Okay, if you don't know, I don't write seriously. So this story is not serious. I didn't spend much time on it at all - maybe 20 minutes at once max. I didn't read it over or anything so um this is not a very good story... on purpose, lol. You can comment and say how you liked or didn't like it of course, but I though i'd just let ya know that. :)
We all sit in a circle with our eyes closed. And there is the experiment victim in the center… we lightly rest our hands on the little girl. I can feel the electricity of our minds slowly creep into our fingertips and enter her. The drip, drip, drip, of the candle wax and the tick, tock, tick of the pendulum is all that is heard.
In our minds we stop laughing like teens do before a silly seyonce and become serious, speaking words to try and coax the other side more close to us. I can feel them crawl into the abandoned room from the deepest, darkest part of the lonely corners. Our breath freezes in the air, and the dark becomes darker because we can no longer feel or see the dancing light of the candles. Like a sudden stampede, something unseen bangs on the walls all around us, and a sad cry of a woman pierces through the thick molasses dark that holds us still. My eyes violently tear open – grey and glossy… and racing, like my heart that I think just might disconnect from whatever scientific string it is holding on to.
They run, of course, just like humans always do. My friends – they run down the decaying narrow hallway that stretches the door so far away. I am the last one. I stay there, cross-legged and glossy-eyed, staring up at the ceiling. I could swear a piece of that oozing darkness moved, and that is when I run. I am human, after all. Tripping over myself and falling, I escape for my life, or my sanity. But that bit of curiosity lets me swing my head back and look down the hallway into the room before I leave out of the door. There is the little girl, floating above the ground. Her small blue dress is pressed underneath by the hands of the unseen, and her head slumps to the side. I see her hollow eyes look at me and her mouth form a scream that can't be heard. She reaches out her hand, still levitating, but the door slams shut before I have the time to reach back – even before that tear can roll down my cheek. I find only a second has gone by, and rush out of the door behind my terrified friends. Levitation works.