#mmrpclose

[areyouafraidyet-blog1]

Left Wing Guest Room II Nov 2 II Noon

They waited for September to step out of the room, leaving the boy alone to change. The children would not keep making mistakes like that; their chances to single them out would become increasingly limited. As the boy pulled on the shirt, they spoke, a young girl’s voice echoing out into the room, “Spiders crawling up your back, spiders crawling up your back, bite, bite, bite. Stick an knife in your back feel it twist and turn. Feel the blood rushing down your back. Tight squeeze. Cool breeze. Now you have the chillies.” A pause, as they watched the large spider crawl up the boy’s back. “You probably should have checked that shirt before pulling it on.”

@romanxguerra

[areyouafraidyet-blog1]

Perspective Hallway II Nov 2 II 10:10 am

 It was very sad that the boy had lost his mother at such a young age. So sad that his father had crumbled to pieces. So sad that the boy threatened to follow his father into oblivion. Isabel Messinger had been a good mother, kind and gentle. Tainting the boy’s memory of her would shatter him. Her flowered scent, earthy and fragrant, permeated the room, tickling the boy’s nose. It was said that smell was one of the most powerful reminders of a memory. They drifted around the boy humming a soft tune Isabel was fond of when she cooked. A touch to the boy’s cheek. A flicker, the barest, of a woman, Isabel, in a white sundress, brown hair just touching her shoulders, ethereally pale. She flickered away again and her voice, her voice as the way the boy remembered, honey-sweet and soothing, filled the hallway, “Jordan, Sweetheart, what are you doing here? It’s not safe here. It’s not safe. I can get you out of here. Just let me look at you first.” A pause. Another touch to the cheek. A sigh that ghosted across the boy. “Oh baby, I always knew you’d end up disappointing me. You're just like your fucking father. A complete emotional wreck. You know he's tried to kill himself a couple of times-coward can't ever get it, right. You could do it. We’d finally be together again.”

[areyouafraidyet-blog1]

Left Wing Guest Room II Nov 1 II 12:33 pm

The silly Manchester girl had ignored the screams. They wondered absently if the girl recognized who the screams belonged to. It wasn’t altogether surprising; she seemed to have a habit of trying to deny things. But then the Manchester family all tended to be that way. They had been so thrilled, when they met young September, to learn that the Manchester line had continued. She seemed a lovely, terrible child; insecure and arrogant in equal measures. Not a nice girl, but any imagination, which made them like her all the more. It was only a brief meeting once when the girl was about six but there had been a feeling even then that she would come back to them. It had taken quite a number of years but she was back, back and ignoring them. It was okay though-they had a plan. She would not be given the option of ignoring them anymore. When she had first arrived, September had dropped her stuff in the left wing’s guest room, one of the better kept rooms. That’s where they waited for her now. They already knew the girl was fast on her way, looking for somewhere to hide in the wake of the screams. She would not get the hide-out she hoped for. On the pillow, beside the girl’s purse, lay a generous lock of hair, belonging to the dearly departed Hayley. The door cracked open and Ember slipped through. They shut it firmly behind her. It was so rare to catch the girl alone; they had to take advantage.

“I left you a little “thank you” for letting me have her, September,” They said.

@septembers-monarchy

[areyouafraidyet-blog1]

Kitchen II Nov. 1st II 11:47 am

They had been watching the arrogant girl since she arrived. There would be no point in trying to force her into believing in the paranormal. It just wouldn’t happen. She was intelligent, yes, but so close-minded to anything outside of  popular, testable knowledge. It was a flaw in her logic that she couldn’t accept that science was ongoing field and that there was still so much humans had to learn. In the grand scheme, they were all still stupid. It wouldn’t be a true problem though, fear not belief was the key, and like all the guests she had her pressure points. The girl just needed a tangible, logical reason to be afraid, to be terrified for her life. She needed a villain she could recognize, another human. It was an utter work of art to them. It would be a cold, vicious slap in the face to all of the stupid children. But for Elizabeth, it would be a puzzle, a frightening, irresistible puzzle for a curious girl like her.  She, unlike many of the others, was still moving about the mansion alone, seemingly unconcerned with their lockdown. Although, they knew that wasn’t entirely true. Halting the girl’s search of the pantry, they slammed the door shut and instead swung open the kitchen door. Making sure they had the girl’s attention first, they opened the next door, and then another beyond that leading to the hallway towards the second floor stairs. Once she entered the hallway and they just knew she wouldn’t be able to resist checking out the hallway, the unmistakable blood trail would lead her the rest of the way.

(@elizabethsuttonn.tumblr.com)

[areyouafraidyet-blog1]

1st Floor Bathroom II Nov 1 II 9:01 am

They had been waiting all morning to play with their little doubting Thomas. His ability to deny all the evidence before him was amusing and begged the question-how far could he pushed before he fractured? They always enjoyed the doubters, the realists, the ones who despite everything clung desperately to the idea that none of it was real. Somehow it was so much more cowardly then those who accepted the truth. As if an actual human could be smart enough to plan and do everything they had. It was insulting, really. It had really been only a matter of patience, waiting to get him alone. It was the alcohol that had done it finally. They waited as he drank, waited as he walked to the bathroom, waited as he shut the door, and then the moment he faced the mirror they acted. It was a simple party trick; the boy’s reflection showed a version of himself with a gruesome laceration along his cheekbone, blood leaking down his face. The boy in the mirror opened his mouth and said, “This is your fault.” Even as the words fell from the reflection’s mouth, a crack splintered through the mirror, the only warning before the whole thing burst outwards in a mess of glass. They sighed happily as the first drop of blood hit the ground. It had been so long since they tasted anything so sweet.

(@alejandrocastillos)