Upon re-reading this, I discovered something.
I am sick in the head! O_O

It was a sad day for the Mappleton family. It was the funeral of the late Joanna Mappleton. Mother of three and beloved by all. Or by many anyway.
As the dark brown coffin slowly sank into the cold and gaping earth, the tears flowed. Tears flowed from father Jason Mappleton, from his brother-in-law Jacob Frederiksen, though most of it might have been the memories of his own wife, Stella Mappleton, who had died exactly a year ago. Granny Mappleton cried, Jacob's daughter Elisa wept for her dear aunt and even her husband, the gentle but reserved Andrew Craffinger, could not hold back his tears.

And though the heavens wept as well, nothing could compare to the tears shed by the children's little hearts. John, age 9, was the oldest of the three. May and Alex, the twins, didn't really understand what 'death' ment, they were only 5 after all. But the they did grasp the undeniable truth that they would never see their mother again.

The casket hit the bottom with a soft thud, and the children were the first to throw some earth down the cruel and unforgiving abyss. The twins threw down a little fist full of dirt, not really understanding. John was more hesitant. As he stared down into the dark hole, he clasped the dirt tight in his little fist. He felt that, by doing this, his mother would truly be gone.
As he just stood there, staring into the dark, the dark stared back at him, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
His father stood next to him. He gently took hold of his hand and together they threw down the small mud ball. It hit the wooden box and John buried his face in his fathers chest.

Half a year later, the family still felt the loss. Mr. Mappleton had begun drinking, Granny, as everyone called her, would spend the entire day just staring out the window, mumbling to herself.
May and Alex hardly spoke anymore, though they had been notorious for their enthusiastic volume, Jacob would show up at the strangest of times, always bringing presents for the twins. And John had started reading in order to avoid realities cold grasp. He read and he read. Page after page, book after book. He began living in fantasy, losing sight of the line between life and the stories. Perhaps life was the real story after all?

One day, he was in the library again, trying to find a book he hadn't read already. But in his uncontrollable hunger for distraction, he had already consumed every book the small town library had to offer at least twice. "I wish there was something special in here." He mumbled to no one in particular. He turned around and was about to leave, when he heard a strange sound, like a whispered echo.
He turned around when he heard it again, this time clearer. "John." He followed the voice to an old door.

On it, was a sign. FORBIDDEN it read in old fashioned writing. One time, he had asked the librarian what on the other side. The glasses had almost fallen from the tip of her nose. "Nothing but cleaning equipment." She had said. But she had commanded him to never speak of that door again. He decided it was best to let it be and was about to leave again when he saw a dark piece of clothing slipping around the corner.
Only now he saw the door was unlocked.

He slowly pushed it open and flinched at the loud creaking sound, fearing the librarian would hear. He walked down the dark stairs and was happy to find a light switch at the bottom of it. The lights lit up, one after another. The old lamps however, did not produce a lot of light anymore. Their weak reddish glow, and the many cobwebs, gave the basement an eerie aura.
But so many books! The shelves seemed to go on forever. This part of the library had to run under the entire town.
"John." There it was again, that strange whisper. He saw the dark cloth going around the corner. Though hesitant, his curiosity compelled him to follow. Moments later, he was hopelessly lost.
Suddenly one of the shelves toppled and almost crushed him. When he opened his eyes the book in his lap drew his attention. Beautifully decorated, it bore no title.

"Who is there?" Somebody called. Panicking, he fled, turning corner after corner. "I know you're in here John." It was the librarian. "You don't want to mess with things you don't… WHAT THE? AAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"
He stopped dead in his tracks. That scream. Was she pretending just to lure him out? Should he go towards it? Should he call out to her? He started walking again. First slowly, the breaking into a run. Another turn. The stairs! He ran up the stairs and hid inside a cabinet next to the door.

He heard breathing. He held his breath. It was still there. Getting heavier, getting closer. Someone was coming up the stairs! He made himself even smaller and tried to peek through a small creak in the door. He saw a shadow, someone looking around. It turned away, back into the basement and slammed the door shut. John waited a bit longer before crawling out of the cabinet. He looked at the door. The sign had fallen off and was cracked in half.
Then he realized there shouldn't have been a shadow. The staircase itself wasn't lit. He had noticed that when he turned the lights on. Suddenly he heard panting and scratching on the other side of the door. He ran like he had never ran before. He didn't stop, didn't look back. He ran to his house, to his room and locked the door, closed the windows and turned on as many lights as he could. Slowly his heartbeat returned to normal and his panting subsided.

In the sanctum of his room, he began to rationalize the events. He concluded that he should not have stayed up till 3 am to read that horror book, and that his imagination had played tricks on him. When he looked down, he saw that the book was still clutched in his hands. He would have to return it, but that could wait.
First he wanted to know the secrets that lie within. A deep red cover seemed to glow like embers and was beautifully decorated with a strange golden symbol. In the center a small crystal gem was inlaid, whiter than snow. Fascinated, he was even more curious about the contents. He carefully opened it and saw it didn't just look old, it was old.
Calligraphic handwriting adorned the pages, quick notes jotted down in the sidelines here and there. He began to read. The book itself was in a dialect of sorts that John didn't understand. The sidelines however, were the diary of Anna Vin Cospe, a noble who's family owned the entire village during the Victorian Age.

She had lost both her parents at a young age and was forced to marry when she turned 14. Her husband was Richard Hammeling, 52 at the time. A cruel man, he repressed the villagers just for fun. Anna, as his wife, was despised as well. One day, the guards brought an old woman to the castle, who had been accused of witchcraft. Duke Hammeling ordered her to be burned alive, simply because there hadn't been a good burning for quite some time now. Before the guards could drag her away, she looked Anna straight in the eyes and she could hear a voice in her head, telling her to explore the dungeon.
While everyone was at the execution, she slipped into the dungeon. In the darkest corner, she found a secret chamber.

'The shadows have led me here.', the diary read. In it, she found all sorts of magic formulas, potions and curses. And the book that would also serve as her diary. Though scared at first, this discovery had birthed an opportunity, and vengeance took root in her heart. She began experimenting, but to no avail. She needed help. She managed to bring back the witch from beyond, who was more than willing to help Anna exact here revenge.
However, in order for her to remain in this world, sacrifices were necessary. Anna shrouded herself in a cloak so dark, she seemed a shadow herself, and every night, she would take one of the villagers.
Afterwards, she returned them to their beds. The next morning they didn't have a shadow to cast in this world anymore. Living corpses, they would rot away before the end of the day.

But just when she was about to obtain the true power of darkness, one of the villagers recognized her. She was captured and sentenced to be hanged on a young oak tree on the castle grounds. Her final words, she spoke a curse, enveloping her tyrant husband in crimson flames, till only ashes remained. And with that the book ended.

There were still some pages left, but they were empty, except for the last one. 'Make A Wish' was written on the top. John looked out the window and saw that night had already fallen.
Nonetheless, he took the book and sneaked out the back door. It didn't take him long to reach the graveyard.
In the pale silver light of the full moon, the graveyard emitted an eerie glow. The wind rustled the trees ever so carefully. He could feel his heart beating, pounding in his young chest. He stopped at his mothers grave and knelt down, opening the book in front of him.

He opened it at the last page. With shaking hand, he began to write. 'I want us to be together again.' "Please let me see my mother again." He whispered. Nothing happened. "I want to see my mother!" He said, louder this time. He turned the pages to see if anything had changed, but it was the same as before. He cut his finger on the paper and a drop of blood stained the final page.
'Shit.' How was going to explain that. He wasn't even supposed to have the book. Then again, he wasn't supposed to write in it either.

He sighed and stood up, ready to go home, when a blood-chilling howler echoed from the forest. The sound almost stopped his heart. He saw shadows of strange beasts crawling against the trees.
He wanted to run, but he couldn't. His shadow was tied up by one of the beings. The shadows were alive!
He tried to get free, but it was too strong. The others closed in, crawling on the tombs, slither through the graves, taking on even more terrifying forms as they closed in on their prey. The hollow cries echoed between the graves. They grabbed his legs and snaked their way up.
Tears rolled over his face. Shadows crawled up his legs, his body, his neck. The darkness grew thicker. The screeching louder. I resonated inside his head with such force he almost passed out.
The clouds shifted, taking away the last remaining light. In complete darkness, he could feel them covering his entire body, wrapping around his head. They forced his mouth open and poured themselves inside. The world faded into the abyss deeper than darkness. He wasn't scared anymore, he wasn't sad. He stopped feeling altogether.

When he woke up, he found himself in his bed, the book next to him. Was it just a bad dream? Had he fallen asleep while reading? The crystal on the cover had come loose and was now a bloody red.
'Wear it' A voice called to him from nowhere. Or was it everywhere? Unable to resist, he took it and the pendant attached itself around his neck, a shadow the only chain. Everything changed. Everything faded.
"John. How are you my dear John?"
"Mom? Is that you?"
"Yes dear. It's me."
"Where are you? I want to see you."
"You can't."
"But I want us all to be together again."
"Is that what you really wish?"
"Then say it."
"I wish we would all be together again.
… Mom?"

The voice had disappeared. Was it just another illusion? He got dressed for school and hid the pendant under his shirt. He gave his dog, a black collie named Sheppie, some food and a quick pat on the head. While John was busy with his math test, the sky grew dark. A storm was brewing.
Before long the storm raged. He couldn't walk home through this. Luckily for him, his father had sobered up enough to pick him up. May and Alex were already in the backseat, so he sat in the front, next to his father.

At the house, Granny Mappleton was wandering around in the back alley, looking for Sheppie. Frightened by the thunder, she had ran away. She found her, fighting with two strays, a German Shepard and a Danish Dog. She tried to save Sheppie, but in the confusion they dogs turned on her. Just as suddenly they let go and ran off into the rain.
When the Mappleton's got back home, Granny was sitting outside on the porch. "Granny?" May asked. "What are you doing? It's raining." Alex walked over and gave her a small nudge.
She just fell face forward into the mud. A trail of fresh blood still visible in the mud and numerous bite marks on her body. She had barely managed to crawl onto the porch before all the life had flowed from her.

Two days later, she was buried next to Joanna. It all happened rather fast, and in the commotion, no one had realized that Granny Mappleton didn't have a shadow. Later that night, John sat in his room.
His hair still wet from the shower, he sat at his desk, still half naked. He wasn't sure if it was the steam from the shower or not, but he could see something swirling inside the crystal.
It appeared a three-headed dog and a human figure, swirling in some kind of whirlpool. It reminded him of his grandmother and he cried. A tear landed on the crystal.

"John? What's wrong?" He looked up and found himself in darkness again.
"Oh mom, it's Granny, she…" He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.
"Don't worry dear. I know it hurts, but everything will be fine soon. Everyone is coming together, just like you wished. Only you can bring us all together again. You can do it. I believe you can. I believe in you, so never give up and follow the chosen path."
And just like that, the darkness was gone, as was Joanna's voice. The swirling figures in the pendant had disappeared as well.

The next morning, he felt a lot better. Things seemed pretty normal; uncle Jacob had bought the twins another toy and father was drinking again. He only missed the quiet murmurs and the creaking of Granny's rocking chair. When he looked at his uncle, he saw that he had forgotten to paint his hair. He had always hated his natural red color. The same red as the twins. Thinking about his family, he wondered where his cousin Elisa was now. He wandered outside and sat down underneath the old oak tree in the backyard.
He looked into the crystal and it seemed to suck him in. He could see blurs inside it, but he wanted to see more. As he peered deeper he saw Elisa and her husband Andrew. They were at the carnival in the town they lived in. As they went into the mirror house, his vision became clearer and clearer. He could even hear them talk. "Elisa." He called out to her. Immediately she turned around.
"What's wrong honey?" Andrew asked. "I just thought I heard some one call my name." "Probably just the wind or something. There is no one else here." They kept walking, not seeing the trembling of their shadows.

Seeing them so up close, he wondered if he could reach out to them. He couldn't actually touch them, so he tried a different approach. He focused on their reflections. Suddenly the mirror shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Elisa screamed as a few pieces cut them. It were just a few scratches, but it was still enough to draw blood.
John suddenly became very excited. He felt something inside him stirring as he watched the thick red liquid. He could almost smell it, feel it's warmth. It was a strange, new sensation. Or maybe it had always been there? He wanted to see more. He focused again and another mirror burst. A laugh escaped his lips, his smile grew into a malicious grin. He didn't understand why, but he enjoyed hurting them. Was it even real? He didn't care.

The young couple was now running towards the exit. John tried something new, and succeeded. The mirrors moved and shifted, trapping them in a moving maze of mirrors. Reality almost seemed to split between light and darkness, ever shifting. A wall slid between them, separating them. The both ran and ran as mirrors randomly popped and shards floated through the air.
Elisa grew desperate and curled up in a corner crying. Andrew kept running, and calling out Elisa's name. When he found her, she was coiled up on the dirty ground. He held her in her arms and she began crying again, this time from happiness. The walls shifted again, creating a room of mirrors with no way out.

In the reflection, monstrous forms rose from their shadow. Their reflections repeated endlessly, deepening the darkness. Meanwhile, a young boy sat under an old oak tree, a wicked smile etched on his face. The mirrors cracked, the creatures in it screeched and the mirrors simply collapsed. Andrew and Elisa just sat there for a moment.
It was over. "I want to have more fun." John pouted.

The shards began shivering and slowly rose from the ground. In them the creatures still resided. They became one swirling hurricane of light and dark, enveloping the young couple. As Elisa screamed everything froze mid-air. The pieces lunged at them, drove straight trough them, smearing them all over the place as John's sinister grin almost stretched to his ears.
The mirror house returned to normal, except for two skeletons, holding each other. Most of their soft parts had been spread on the ground and mirrors, leaving only some flesh attached. Cuts had been carved into their bones.
Satisfied, the young boy stood up as he watched two more shadows being sucked into the pendant's void. He wondered what more he could do. Would he be able to see the rest of his family? He saw the twins, out playing on the town's main road. They weren't interesting to him now, and he switched to his father.

He was in the kitchen, fighting uncle Jacob in one of his drunk rages. This was promising to say the least.
"What the hell do you want?" Jacob shouted.
"The truth! Did you sleep with Joanna?"
"You're drunk. Lie down before you hurt someone."
Jason lunched at his brother-in-law and held him by his scarf.
"Answer me!" Jacob could smell his breath. He was really wasted.
"Why do you even ask?" Trying to avert this discussion. Maybe he couldn't give a reason and would let it be. Or he would just keel over. It had happened before.
"The twins." "What?" A slight pang of guilt.
"They look like you." He let go of him.
"You always liked them better than John. And you and Joanna spend a lot of time together." Looking him straight in the eyes. "Well? Did you sleep with my wife? Are the twins yours?"
Jacob had already given himself away with his reaction, but Jason was too drunk to have noticed. But John had noticed, watching through his crystal.

Jacob regained his composition. At this rate, he would talk his way out of it and Jason would forget soon enough. John reached out again, but not physically this time. He peered right into his uncle's deepest being and found the guilt that was already there. He took it, brought it out, increased it. Forcing him to confess. Overcome by this sudden burst of guilt, Jacob started sobbing.
"Yes." He cried "Yes I slept with Joanna. Yes the twins are mine. It was all her fault. That slut came on to me when Stella and I were having trouble. She just came by one night, throwing those hips around the place, her cheap perfume wafting wherever she walked..."
"YOU BASTARD!" Jason snarled. He attacked Jacob. Quickly John moved a knife in his reach.

Blood dripping on the floor. Horror in his uncles eyes. The scent of blood. Mortal terror. John loved it all. Jacob fell to his knees. The knife had pierced his heart.
The life was flowing from him fast, and there was nothing that could be done anymore. Jason stood there, looming, towering over his brother-in-law. The rage inside his was far from over. With an almost primordial scream, he lifted the knife up and grasped it with both hands. Jason rammed the knife straight through Jacob's skull, leaving only the heft sticking out.

His thirst for blood now unquenchable, John looked into his father's heart and fueled his drunken rage. He ignited the flames hatred to inhuman levels, throwing the man into insanity. Jason took another knife and started cutting the body into tiny pieces, trying to stuff them into the oven. It didn't fit. The door couldn't even be closed anymore. Nonetheless, he turned the old gas oven on. He intended to blow himself up, but John wasn't done yet.
He willed him to the garage and into his car. Jason began driving, no longer master of his own body. Out on the town road, he saw the twins.

"Not mine. Not anyone's." He muttered. The two waved at their alleged father. He sped up. By the time they realized what he was doing, it was too late. The last thing they saw was the inhuman madness in his eyes. And for that final second, they could see John's face in a red blur.
With a splat their organs were spread over the road. The sound of small bones breaking as Jason backed up and ran over the remains a second time, twisted not just the stomachs of the few people who witnessed it, but Jason too. He watched in horror as something inside him murdered those innocent children. The children he loved as his own, even if they weren't. After running over them a couple of time, painting his wheels red, he looked up at the sound of an explosion. In the mirror he saw a pillar of smoke and billowing flames from the house.

John was surprised by the explosion. He had forgotten he was still in the back yard. He could feel the heat around him as the flames tried to consume him as well. He could feel the light in the fire, trying to destroy him. The shadow subsided the flames and small shadows crawled out from his wounds like black little worms, healing him.
He looked back into the crystal.
His father hadn't been sitting still. He intended to kill himself. John didn't have any further use for him. He could die now. But when he saw the power plant loom in the distance, he got an idea. Just a little more fun. He took control of the wheel.

Jason desperately tried to regain control as the car drove through the fence. Like a cat playing with a mouse, John let him drive for a second, only to retake control seconds after. This little game wasn't very entertaining, and he soon drove the car into a generator, frying his father with several thousand volts. One of the employees rushed to the scene. But for Jason all help was too late. The current had already turned him to a brown smoldering heap. The man covered his nose from the scent and John got another idea.
The corpse suddenly turned to the man and spoke with a dry and creaky voice; "It ain't pork chops you smelling sonny!" The man simply fainted.

John was rolling over the ground laughing. He quickly regained himself though he couldn't wipe the grin on his face. What would he do now? He already killed his family. There weren't any Mappleton's left. Were there? The shadows enveloped him and when they dissolved, he found himself at the train station. He put up his hood and waited for the next train. He took a seat near the window, but soon got restless and walked about. He walked toward the control cabin.

His plan was already in motion, the pieces were moving, the stage set for the grand finale. He had seen the power that lies on the other side, and soon that power would be his own. "Hey kid. What are you doing there?" One of the conductors asked him. He went further into the cabin. "You deaf or something, kid? Get lost!" The conductor grabbed his arm but he simply pushed him back, surprisingly strong. "What the?" He reached for his radio, worried by the sick grin on the kid's only thing visible under his hood.
"Karl. You read? Get over here. We've got a 'minor' situation here at controls." "Roger. Be right over" "Let's see how you like that kiddo."
"DIE." "What did you say? Speak up." "DIE!" He shouted and the shadows flowed out of him, grabbing hold of the man like snakes, wrapping themselves around him entirely. He couldn't breath, let alone scream.

The shadows spread from John's legs to lifted him up. He looked at the man's face closely. He could see the fear and confusion swirling in his eyes. Eyes begging for mercy, for salvation. Praying to a god that couldn't save him. His voice resonated in the man's ears, but his lips never moved from that monstrous grin. "No one can stop me." The shadows squeezed harder and harder, until he burst. Splatters of crimson adorned all of the cabin and with a sloshing sound, the remaining heap sank to the floor. John's smirk couldn't have been any wider. The crystal was now pitch-black. The shadow's tentacles crept back into him as he stared out the window.

Several hundreds of years ago, in a small town, a witch was hanged. With her last breath, she had cursed her husband to burn to his death. Months before, a witch was burned. No one had heard her wish, softer than a whisper. A wish for her unborn child. Her wish for him to live forever. He should be named after its father, Jonathon Mappleton.

Steps echoed on the cold metal floor. The raging of a train on its rails in the background. The door opened. A man had stepped inside the cabin, but instantly stumbled back. "What the hell happened here?" A small boy stood across the room.
He slowly turned around. "Hello. You must be Karl." The door closed right behind him. A shadow, barely human, held it in place, glaring at him with an evil grin. The same grin as that of the boy to whom the shadow belonged.
The boy's eyes were black as the night and stared ahead coldly. An eerie pendant around his neck glowed black and purple. The boy turned around and pointed at something outside the window.

Cautiously, the man named Karl walked around the heap of warm flesh toward the window. Not getting close to the blood spattered boy, he peered outside. He saw the switches in the distance. But they were wrong. Like this, they would collide with a freight train, carrying toxic chemicals. Hundreds would die from the waist alone. He reached for the emergency brake. Quicker than lighting, shadow spread from John's arm and tore the man to a bloody mess, like giant scissors.

They passed the darkness seeped from the boy, no longer himself. Perhaps never had been. It snaked up the walls in thin lines, burning strange runes into the walls. The boy continued to stare out the window, looking at the train, coming straight at him, closer and closer. As they collided, reality froze and cracked like a mirror.
The world around him was no more.
The shadows twirled like a mad whirlpool beneath him and as the pieces fell down one by one, a young boy slowly sank into the abyss deeper than darkness.

Still grinning.

Make a Wish

Ok be honest, should I see a psychiatrist about this? XD

Anyway, I hope it was bone-chilling fun for you. Ke ke ke! :D

Review to tell me what you thought of it. ;)