1993

“This is a bad idea,” Gaspar mumbled for maybe the millionth time as he flashed the flashlight into the darkness of the abandoned orphanage, the starless night a weighing canopy of dread above them. He heard Casparo’s boisterous laugh from behind him, his sixteen-year-dol twin brother approaching him from the darkness with the flashlight shining in his face.

“What’s the matter? Afriad little Annie’s gonna appear and drag you to the fiery depths of hell?” He made a ghost-like noise and Gaspar rolled his eyes, backing away and glaring at his brother.

“I’m _afraid _that the cops will get called on us by the locals, or we’ll do some damage, or some damaged stuff and will hurt us. Ghosts aren’t real, Sparo,” Gaspar mumbled indignantly and crossed his arms, shining the light at the secret passageway Caspar had found.

Casapro laughed again, his dark brown eyes sparkling against his dark bronze skin and curly black-brown hair. They looked identical, except for a few facts; Casparo had a cleanly cut scar across his eyebrow (He told everyone he got it from wrestling a bear. He had just angered their grandmother’s ornery cat and got that nice little reminder of how annoying he can be), and he grew out his hair. Gaspar preferred to keep his hair straight and short and he didn’t have any scars—well, except for one minor thing: his right eyebrow was slightly lopsided compared to his left one because of an experiment involving pyrotechnics gone wrong. “Ay, you worry too much, _hermano_.”

“Don’t even try to pretend to know a lick of Spanish,” Gaspar snapped and rolled his eyes. While Casparo decided that it wasn’t something he needed to know as a kid, Gaspar knew that it was scientifically proven that knowing multiple languages helped your brain grow and stay healthy in old age.

Casparo scoffed and ventured into the dark passageway. “Relax, Mamá may or may not have convinced me to actually learn some of the language recently. I’m tired of you and our parents talking behind my back in the dumb language.”

Gaspar scowled and hesitated. The abandoned orphanage existed until it lost its funding in the 30’s, and now just sat around, slowly deteriorating as the years wore on. It was a large property, with white fences surrounding it, though the fences were either perfectly standing and good to go for another decade or completely collapsed; either way, they were surrounded by overgrown tall grass. It was like a sea of grass, filled of hidden surprises. Off to the side was a pathetic playground with two rusted swings, a disgusting looking sandbox filled with random crap, and a metal, weak slide next to the swings. Yet the building itself was tall, roughly three stories not counting the potential attic, and made of brick with windows evenly spaced out, however, many of the windows were either completely covered in dirt and impossible to look through, or shattered, the remnants of glass scattered around in the grass as one of the many surprises. There was double doors as the very front and center of the building, however, those were bolted. It was impossible to get in.

But two nights ago, his older brother by seven minutes discovered something interesting while trespassing (“Out of curiosity!” He liked to claim. The selfish prick was probably trying to see if there was any treasure fo him to steal.) and had dragged Gaspar along with him to explore.

In the back was a small shed attached to the building and the door had been torn off, which revealed a deeserted, dusty shed that probably held maintence and gardening tools. But now in the small area, all that lied was a second entrance into the orphanage.

And his brother had just ventured into the darkness, his flashlight illuminating the dust flying around.

Gaspar hesitated.

He didn’t want to be called a chicken. He wasn’t chicken. People who called people chickens for not doing stuff were the chickens.

But he didn’t want his brother to be alone if he got hurt or some crap.

Gaspar sighed and followed inside, following his brother’s loud footsteps. This was stupid. But at least he could get hi brother out of there if he got himself hurt. “I swear, it’s like you_ want _to get arrested,” he grumbled and followed loosely behind, catching a glimpse of Casparo’s new, brown leather jacket. Their mother had gotten it for him a month ago. A week after the accident, as if that would help them forget.

“What can I say? I’ll have plenty of stories to tell my kids one day,” his brother crooned. “And you’ll be a childless workaholic virgin who never makes a legacy.”

Gaspar rolled his eyes, flashing the flashlight abruptly in his brother’s eyes to catch him off guard. “Shut up. Unlike _you _I’m waiting for the right person.”

“Yeah. . . . You totally aren’t just too shy to ask someone out,” Casparo muttered, smirking arrogantly.

“Calláte.”

The abandoned orphanage was everything one would expect it to be; lightless, empty, large, and deserted with dust everywhere. There were swinging doors with creaky hinges, the floor was dusty and slightly muddy from years of people not cleaning it and tear and wear. It was . . . Haunting.

Gaspar frowned, hanging behind Casparo closer than he would like to admit. “Is your curiosity satisfied yet?” He grumbled, flinching at the sound of an owl hooting in the night and he tried to swallow back a whimper.

Casparo snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re done yet,” he teased him, spotting one ajar door. “Hey, that one is open all the way . . .”

Gaspar tensed, and giving up on keeping his pride, he latched onto Casparo’s shoulders. “We should get out of here.”

Casparo rolled his eyes, crying out. “Are you kidding me? I’m just getting started, _hermanito_.” His smirk grew and without hesitation and bolted into the room, dragging a squeaky Gaspar with him.

It was a long, strange room with rows of metal, rusty beds without their covers or mattresses. The windows were either cracked, dirty, or shattered and glass littered the floor along with some dust bunnies. Creepiest of it all, little baby dolls were propped up on some of the beds, their fake hair messy and dirty, their clothes gone, adn their plastic limbs covered in dirt, and their soulless eyes staring into space.

Gaspar instantly got a bad vibe the moment they got a good look at the room.

His brother, however, did not have that intuition. “Woah, dude, this is epic.” He grinned. “Must have been where little orphan Annie and her little friends lived in.”

Gaspar tugged on Casparo’s sleeve, whispering pleadingly. “Can we go? Can we please just go? I don’t like this . . .”

Casparo rolled his eyes again and stepped forwards into the room with no regards for his safety. “Bah, you’re being ridiculous. Or are you a little chicken?” He mused mockingly, titling his head challengingly at Gaspar.

Gaspar’s face burned red with embarrassment and he swallowed back his pride. “Sparo, please, can we just leave—?”

Casparo turned to face Gaspar, already staring a tirade. “Oh, come on, you’re being a scaredy cat. It’s _just _an abandoned orphanage. Stop being so—. . .” The color drained from his brother’s face.

Gaspar’s heart dropped. He whirled around, only to see a maybe fifteen foot tall creature with mangy hair, puppeteer like limbs and soulless white eyes staring at them.

For a split moment, Gaspar’s soul must have left his body.

He let out a scream and grabbed Casparo’s harshly, acting on pure instinct as he sprinted underneath the creature’s abdomen and tried to make it to the door, hearing his own brother let out a short lived shriek.

This had been a bad idea, this had been a bad idea, this had been a—

No time to dwell on that. Holding his brother’s hand tighter, he heard the creature make a horrible gurgling noise nad clicking footsteps walking after them, like when their mother wore heels. He was trying his best to navigate the dark place and tightened his grip once again, not caring if his brother hit something. Just as long as they got the hell out of there.

He bolted out of the wya they came in from, hearing his brother grunt and they ran.

He didn’t know how long they had been running for, not that he cared to know. He just wanted to get away. At some point, they saw a house in the distance and managed to get inside. The elderly couple helped them and called their parents but . . . They gave them some weird looks. Especially when they were telling their story (Even then, his brother Casparo, who would’ve have just at the chance to exaggerate and be praised, was deathly silent).

. . . The elderly couple told them that no one had seen anything like that before.

The creature had vanished. And their parents had a hell of a lot to explain.