
Nathaniel Wells was a murderer who wrote poems with his victim's blood. He committed suicide, and everyone thought his crimes were through. No one knew that Nathaniel had a son, not even himself. The short sequel to He Wrote the Poem in Blood...
Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 5 - Words: 2,650 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 05-13-12 - Published: 05-09-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3021061
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I was in absolute shock. I had just talked to a ghost. His words ran through my head.
"How old are you?... Raine Carterson?... Give this to her…."
I felt a shiver run down my spine. I felt as if something evil was hiding in the shadows. Something demonic and horribly close. And it was looking right at me.
I felt really tired. I told mom I was going to go lie down. It was only 7:30, so of course I wouldn't fall asleep, but I had to get out of there.
The presence followed me.
I went into the bathroom and took the dirty and blood splattered clothing off of my body. I saw the bruises and remembered the pain. I took a cool shower, and the pain was dulled a bit. The water fell on my head and washed me clean.
I thought as droplets fell from my face. There was something watching me. I could feel it. What was it? It was starting to creep me out. I felt like a little kid again, constantly scanning the shower for anything scary that might have entangled itself in the curtains.
I stepped out of the cool water, turning off the shower as I reached for a towel. I dried my body. That's when it happened.
I felt a freezing hand run across my neck. Goosebumps formed on my arms. I looked in the mirror. My reflection was morphed into the face of Nathaniel Wells. Once again, I saw the black hair, the pale eyes, the creamy skin… But there was something new in his face. A demonic look in his eyes. He grinned, and it looked like pure evil.
"Joey…" he whispered in his silky voice. It sounded so horrid and beautiful at the same time.
The lights went out, and I heard a crash in front of me. I screamed as shards of the mirror flew up into the darkness. I felt a cold hand grip my neck. I was lifted up in the air. My feet kicked franticly. I held on to the towel with my hand, and I used the other to try to get the hand to let go. I couldn't breathe.
Suddenly, the door flew open and the lights turned back on.
"Joey?" I heard my mom's voice.
I opened my eyes. The mirror wasn't shattered, and my reflection was normal. I still felt the presence near.
"I heard you scream and- OH MY GOODNESS WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR BODY!" My mom quickly swooped in and grabbed up my arm. She hadn't seen the bruises before because I had hidden them by wearing a jacket.
"I… um… got robbed and beat by a gang on the way home tonight," I mumbled.
"Why didn't you tell me about this?"
I shrugged.
My mother made me get dressed in some pajama pants and led me shirtless into the kitchen. She grabbed a whole bunch of medical stuff and began to fix up my chest and arms.
I still felt that evil presence lurking in the corner of the room.
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