Scripture – Case two – Ethan

Written for Marc Smith –The Horror Master and the one sole fan of RHPS :P

(Divine insanity) xx

Day 2

“I wonder what happened to Emily yesterday” Ethan said to his friend Jay, as they trudged their way through the hard-hitting wind and rain, on the way to school. A lot of people had speculated and joked about the young girls sudden disappearance after she was forced out of their English class yesterday.

“Dunno…I heard she went home, though you never know, she probably got lost on the way” Jay replied letting a smirk creep onto his face with his words. Ethan smiled but didn’t reply; maybe something bad had happened to her? He felt bad about his thoughts and just put it down to his wild imagination. He read a lot of horror stories, so maybe it was just his mind getting too worked up. Ethan loved to write stories, he was a born writer and had actually written a play based on one of his favourite movies of all time: The Rocky Horror Picture show.

The two boys finally reached the school gates as the storm began to pick up. The wind became rapid, buffeting the grass, and things on it, with an extreme force. Ethan and Jay bowed their heads and pressed against the oppressing winds to the front doors. They grabbed at the metal frame of the door to keep their balance as the wind buffeted their bodies. ‘Such a harsh and sudden weather change…maybe it meant something’ Ethan thought as his mind began its wild imagining again.

Break took its time in getting there. Ethan was so exited; he couldn’t wait to finally give his script to the drama teacher. It had taken him ages to persuade Mrs Saditon to let him take on the task of writing, producing and starring in his own school play, and now he had the chance! He impatiently watched the clock tick by, wishing it to go faster. He had to sit for another five minutes listening to the boring ranting of the history teacher. “Now children, we all know the story of Ray fielding don’t we? Well that clock from that famous story has made its way to our school and will be here next week! Now we are very exited about this artefacts visit here, for it is very rare and fabulous.” Droned the teacher with a monotonous voice – even though he meant to sound exited.

Ethan didn’t care about some stupid clock and a weird horror story right now; he needed to get to the drama room as quickly as possible. The clock was down to two minutes now. ‘C’mon’ Ethan thought. Only one minute to go now, and he was starting to get agitated.

“Ok, can we start to pack away our books now and I’ll let you go row by row”. Stated the history teacher seeing the time. He started waving pompously to dismiss each child in the class one by one. “Ethan you can go” he said waving his hand in Ethan’s direction.

Ethan almost ran out of the classroom. He raced down the stairs missing odd ones out in his rush. Flying through the hall he finally arrived at the drama room, and in resting a moment to gain his breath, he knocked on the black-painted door. It slowly opened straight after he had knocked. A strong smell of plastic wafted out from the room. From the thin gap, which had just been made between the door and its frame, an old lady stuck through her head. The woman was very old and she had obviously tried to hide the fact by covering her grey hairs with dark red hair dye. This woman seemed to be a ‘red addict’. Everything about her was red: from her dress sense, to her red rosy cheeks, to the slight redness on her teeth.

Her eyes were sealed over with a layer of skin, as if it had been sown on and she grasped blindly at the doorframe waiting for her visitor to speak so she could ‘see’ where he or she was.

Confused at the sudden appearance of this lady Ethan stuttered with his words. Was this the covering drama teacher? He had heard that Mrs Saditon was going to get someone in to help him with his play…maybe this woman was the cover?

“Erm… I’m looking for Mrs Saditon.” Said Ethan.

“Ahhh” said the woman at the door in acknowledgement “I am Mrs Norse, the new drama teacher, please…come in… Ethan”

How did she know his name? Did Mrs Saditon already tell the new teacher about him? He was going to take drama as a GCSE option, maybe that was why? As Ethan wondered, he didn’t notice that the woman had moved aside to enable him to enter the dark room beyond. Suddenly coming to his senses he thanked the lady and entered.

“Erm, I don’t know whether Mrs Saditon told you about my play…Its based on the classic movie RHPS” Ethan began. If he was going to get this play up and running he needed to sell his idea to this woman as quickly as possible. He closed his eyes remembering his selling techniques.

He heard the rasping breath of the woman as he talked. “I’ve written all of the script and songs myself, and I’m on the way to getting the cast aswell. I am willing to sort all this out myself, and all I need from the drama department is the props…Erm stillhettos, stage design, that kind of thing. And that’s all the drama department would need to do for me, nothing else. Do you think you could do that?” Ethan re-opened his eyes expecting to see the old woman standing in front of him, accepting his terms, staring at him with those blank eyes. But she wasn’t.

He turned around in confusion; she was there a minute ago. Did she really go and leave him to speak to himself? In his turning, he spotted her. She was standing in the corner of a room blindly searching through a cardboard box for something.

“Stillhetto’s…yes…I have the most perfect pair for you…here” With these words the woman turned round grasping a stillhetto in hand. Ethan looked at the magnificent shoe with amazement. This was perfect! The colour was blood red with the odd sparkle, just like in the film!

“Magnificent isn’t it” spoke Mrs Norse again. “But I’m afraid it isn’t finished…see there’s a spot that hasn’t been coloured. She turned the shoe around and let Ethan see a grey spot where the red paint had come away. Mrs Norse stroked the shoe with some kind of love and devotion. She must have had it a long time.

Ethan was still staring at the shoe. Did it matter that it had a little uncoloured spot? This thing was fabulous and exactly what he needed for his play. A big grin crept itself onto his face and he saw the woman slowly bring the stillhetto towards him.

“The shoe needs to be fed” the woman said still stroking the shoe, certain tenseness appeared in her voice and she started to breathe heavily, her voice velocity increasing with every step she took towards Ethan. “It needs food, I need food… it lives through me and I must serve it…It needs food, It needs Blood!” As she said these words Mrs Norse forced the stillhetto’s pointed heel into Ethan’s neck. Blood began spurting out of the wound and the blood red colour sank into the shoe…like the stillhetto was draining the colour, eating Ethan’s blood. In panic Ethan threw his hands to his throat. It had not hit him directly on the vain and he could still breathe. Warm liquid fell onto his hands as he grasped at the stillhetto heel.

Mrs Norse seemed to be in a trance. She cackled as she watched her baby feast. She heard her newest victim gargle, blood swelling up in his throat, he choked on his own blood.

Ethan forcefully tried to retract the plastic heel from his neck. The shoe slipped and he fell to the floor. Getting dizzy from the blood-loss he desperately crawled on the floor to reach the drama room door. Mrs Norse couldn’t take it any longer. This victim wasn’t going to go down as easy as she first thought.

Ethan rushed to get to the door; him getting to that door was the key to his survival. If he got to the door he would be seen. This mad woman would get taken away and he would get taken to hospital. Blood stained his uniform red as he dragged his body to the door. Lying on the floor at the base of the door, he reached for the handle. The pain in his neck was excruciating and he was finding it hard to breathe as pools of the liquid of life and death formed in his throat. It made his eyes sting and water. His heart racing he reached for the handle. Just a bit further and his hand would be clasping the metal.

He reached up, and let his hand fall upon the cool round exterior of the handle. He turned it as much as he could. He was going to be all right! Just as it was about to open, a cold, wrinkled hand grasped his. With an immense force Mrs Norse’s hands prised Ethan’s hand off of the door. She shoved him to the middle of the floor and thrust two knifes in each of his legs to hold them down. Then she bent over him put her lips to the gash in his neck and began to drink, the warm blood filling her with the young boy’s life.

As Ethan slowly fell into the clutches of death, only one picture remained in his mind. That fabulous stillhetto: the very thing that he had loved and wanted for his play; the one thing that had taken his life. Then his life ended and he fell into the never ending darkness, his mind and strength failing him.

Mrs Norse finished drinking and lifted her head. Blood trickled down her chin and stained her teeth. Her red hair seemed that extra bit darker, the blood adding to the irremovable stains from the thousands of victims lives she had claimed over the years. Stumbling through the room, she made her way to her precious: the beautiful stillhetto. Finally she had served her duty; she had filled the brilliant shoe with the bright red colour it deserved. The life it deserved. The shoe lived within her, she had served her master, and Her baby was fed.

Written by Artzcreator xx