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2021-08-24 17:53:12“It's been a while,” Janice remarked as the guard brought her to the table. Byron noticed she wasn't tapping her fingers or jiggling her leg this time. Just looking straight at him, eyes expressionless, voice flat.
“A couple of weeks,” he said, glancing up at the two-way observation window and smiled at the officers he assumed were watching.
She nodded.
“I want to ask you about the House today, if that's alright. You don't even have to talk about what happened there, not yet.”
“Then what about it?”
“Why did you go there, what drew you and your friends to it? You said earlier that it was a fitting last hurrah, but I want to understand why.”
“Alright,” Janice said and began to tell her story.
***
“When we were kids, we lived for Halloween. We didn't care about the candy, spooky movies, the cider, or any of that stuff, we were in it for the haunts. For one month, there were things to do, worlds to get lost in that broke the boredom of our day-to-day lives. It wasn't even about being scared, not really, but it was the chance to step outside the normal and live a little.
This probably makes no sense to you, but I'm just telling it like it is. We were haunted house fanatics as kids.
As we grew older, we still went to those things, though a lot of them lost their luster as we got more cynical. We began to seek out other things, other fairylands that could capture us, even if just for a moment.
For a while, we immersed ourselves in the club scene. Frequenting the more 'out there' spots like Goth clubs, Industrial clubs, secret clubs that required scavenger hunting and puzzle-solving to find all the strange, wonderful things extremely rich young people with curiosity could find in the Big Apple. A lot of these places were eighteen and up, but it was disturbingly easy to get a fake ID back then. I wonder if it's harder for kids now, with Homeland Security becoming such a big thing? When we were kids, it was as simple as passing a few hundred to “a guy”. I'll have to ask some of the younger inmates.
Anyway, after a while, the club thing got old too. There were only so many times you could dance with the same group of people to the same songs, and look at the creepy pieces of art the club owners hung on the walls.
We needed something else to get lost in, and it was at one of these clubs, a place called The Asylum, we first heard about site-specific interactive theater. Finally, we thought, this was just the thing that would break through our seemingly endless boredom. Something big and beautiful and different to break through the haze.”
Bab terbaru
Broken Night Epilogue
Two authors found at a bizarre crime scene, one dead.Dark fantasy author Emily Diamond's body was found in her home today. She was discovered by police after a call from true-crime author Byron Matthews, who was also found at the scene local law enforcement is calling “Bizarre”. Diamond had been strapped to a hospital bed, where she was seemingly being fed intravenously. According to authorities, Diamond's neck had been broken. “It would have taken a lot of force to do something like this,” One officer, who wishes to remain anonymous, informed. “We're looking for someone with incredible strength and probably some training.” Officers also found a large quantity of “Psychotropic drugs” in the house as well as what are being described as “Brainwashing accouterments.” Matthews, who is not currently a
Broken Night 13
The room beyond the door was simple; squarish and small, able to be crossed with only a handful of strides. The walls were painted eggshell white, and the paint had started to peel, just a little, at the corners. The room had probably, Janice assumed, begun its life as storage.The only things in the room were a small bed covered with hospital white sheets, slightly yellowed with age, and a small machine which filled the air with soft, rhythmic beeping. Tubes ran from the machine to the bed where they attached to the figure tucked beneath the sheets.It was Emily Diamond… the real one.***Adara felt the atmosphere change in her small apartment, the energies swell above her ritual space. She sensed (more than saw) a figure floating overhead in the shape of a majestic grey wolf.Thank you. She mouthed the words silently, not wanting the sound of her voice to break the preternatural silence that had eng
Broken Night 12
Byron heard a sniffling noise from behind him, and in his mind the demon girl had her head in the air, attempting to scent track like a bloodhound. He wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one and realized he had no way of telling.Everything has gone topsy-turvy. He thought to himself.“Clever,” The demon sneered. “Very clever. Which one of you summoned the seraph?”“Not me,” Byron grunted. “I don't even know what a seraph is.”“And not the girl… she hasn't had nearly enough time to learn how to do such a thing. It would take years of study… no...” All at once, Byron felt the stool under his feet jolt as though the demon had kicked it roughly.“Wait...” he hopelessly, foolishly grabbed the rope as though holding it would save him from hanging.“Who is helping you?” she exhorted, her voice tinged with anger. Byron
Broken Night 11
One night before all the madness started, back when Janice and her friends were looking for something, anything, to break out of the doldrums of day-to-day life, they had stumbled upon a film festival. It was being held in a shady, dirty, independent theater, one of the final 42nd Street dives that had somehow survived the New York cleanup of the early nineties.Though they had seen a handful of short films that day, one managed to somehow stick in Janice's mind all these years, though she could never find out its name. It was nearly plotless, relying on stunning, garish visuals. In the film, a group of people, dressed like gods and goddesses from mythology, participated in a party/orgy that very much took on the trappings of an occult ritual as it went on. What Janice was seeing as she carefully followed the wolf through seemingly endless hallways, reminded her very much of that nameless film.Figures would flash before her for seconds, giving h
Broken Night 10
This isn't real. Janice thought to herself. She had made her way down a long hallway, dark except for a meager supply of tea-lights which were placed in scattered recesses along the wall. Now she was standing in a room unlike anything she had seen before.Clearly, it was a living room decorated opulently with silks and overstuffed furniture. It was the sort of room where Janice expected to see Victorian men, dressed casually, sitting around smoking pipes, and talking about their latest trips to Africa. It was a nice room and not that unusual.Except that everything was wrong.This isn't real, this can't be real.For one, the walls were waving as if they were no more substantial than curtains. Shadowy things moved just beyond the walls which had taken on the opacity of theater scrims. Every once in a while, one of the things would push against the walls. Its hand (or claw or tentacle) would push out aga
Broken Night 9
At some point, the demon had lit a candle, and for the first time since being brought here, Byron could see the room that had become his prison.It was a simple room, unadorned. In the House's former life, as a normal place where normal people would live, (if it had truly ever been such a thing), the room would have acted as a sort of storage space for jackets, handyman tools, or whatever other sundry things the family had collected.He stood on a small footstool, painted black. The rope around his neck was nothing special, the same sort of thing you could buy at any hardware or department store in the country. It struck him as funny that such a simple thing could be his barrier, and possibly, if he wasn't careful, his vehicle to the afterlife.“She's coming,” the Emily demon jumped in excitement.It didn't sound very concerned to Byron, but then again, he wasn't an expert in reading the emotions of demons. He
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