Another school story thing… based on kids. Last minute.
CONTAINS: Supernatural stuff…?
"Come on, Mercutio! Quit fallin' behind!" R.T called with a cruel smirk as he beat his twin brother to the top of the hill. Mercutio only groaned and managed to scramble up the steep hill in his rutty old black sneakers. R.T only chuckled, then lifted his blue eyes to stare up at the large house at the top of the hill.
"It's bigger 'n' it was in the newspaper…" He mumbled under his breath as he scanned the filthy white building. Mercutio followed his twin's gaze and made a face.
"Maybe this was a bad idea…" He began, but his twin brother grabbed a handful of his brunette hair, jerking hard enough to earn a squeak of pain.
"Now don't you go talkin' like that, Mercutio! We walked all the way here and we ain't walkin' all the way back, hear me?" R.T demanded, making his brother whine.
"Such violence." A voice muttered and the twins looked up as a sandy blonde-haired teenager stepped up the hill in a pair of bulky motorcycle boots. R.T only huffed, releasing Mercutio's hair roughly.
"Quiet, Stanton." He merely replied in a stubborn tone. Stanton rolled his moss green eyes to the dark, starry sky above, shoving his fingerless-gloved hands into the pockets of his over-sized black coat.
"Are you sure we should be doing this? What if we get caught?" Mercutio asked worriedly. R.T glared, raising a hand to smack him.
"Quit your worryin' so we can get this party started!" He hissed icily. Mercutio ducked the assault, but tripped in the process and landed at Stanton's boots. Stanton looked at R.T flatly.
"Stop hassling him. His fears are rational. We'd get some hard time grounding if we get caught." He pointed out. R.T snorted, folding his arms over his chest.
"Not you. Your folks ain't never home anyway." He disagreed with a drawl. Stanton glared. Mercutio jumped in, sensing a very bad argument between the two.
"Not now, guys!" He protested. Stanton frowned, then turned his back on the twins.
"Not worth my time anyway." He yawned. R.T only fumed, but the words ready to tumble from his mouth were cut off by a loud voice as a raven-haired teenager came barreling up the hill.
"The fun has arrived!" Jakk sang cheerfully as he grinned at them, ear-to-ear. R.T scowled, but it was weak one from the smile that tried to wedge its way onto his pale features.
"About time, Jakk! Where you been?" He demanded impatiently. Jakk grinned some more, his oddly violet eyes glowing brightly.
"I had to sneak past my grandma. She was-"
"You ain't got no grandma!" R.T interrupted angrily. Jakk smiled sheepishly.
"So?" He drawled innocently.
"Jakk, you little-"
"Are we going in or not?" Stanton asked with a frown as he watched R.T wrestle Jakk into the dirt. All the boys went silent now as they stared up at the supposedly haunted house. Dirty tarps or planks of wood covered some windows, which seemed to all be broken. The white paint was chipping away and turning a sickly gray color. Dead rose vines climbed along the sides, even sneaking into a few busted windows. Mercutio gulped.
"How old is this place?" He asked curiously, glancing at Stanton, who didn't even turn to look at the others.
"Mmm… I'd have to say about 200 years. Hard to tell, but the story behind it is way more interesting than the house." Stanton explained slowly, his voice lowering dramatically.
"Tell us, tell us!" Jakk urged excitedly. Mercutio looked sick as he watched Jakk jump around.
"I think it sounds creepy…" He mumbled.
"You think everything is creepy!" R.T hissed. Stanton kept his eyes on the house with an odd emotion flickering through his tired green eyes.
"They say a really nice family lived here. Rich and seemingly harmless… But things went on behind the walls. Things nobody ever expected from a family like this… The father apparently went loco after some tragic accident with his sister… So, he locked all his children in their rooms. Like they were prisoners to the house. He took his wife into the kitchen and butchered her to pieces-"
"Eww!" Mercutio wailed, covering his ears in digust. R.T snickered.
"That's pretty interestin'." He put in.
"Continue!" Jakk called impatiently. Stanton shrugged.
"Not much to say at this point. The father simply killed one kid after another. Each one heard the one before die in such violent and inhuman ways they couldn't even put them in the newspapers… They say the ghosts of the family still reside inside, but that's just the story." He explained, then cocked his head to the side, looking up at the house again. Only Mercutio saw the sad glimmer in Stanton's eyes.
"Let's go in! Maybe we'll find some ghosts!" R.T laughed as he stomped up the old steps to the redwood door. Jakk followed eagerly. Mercutio groaned.
"This whole idea just spells double trouble." He complained as he followed Stanton up the steps into the old house. Stanton smirked.
"Look alive, Mercutio… There could be ghosts anywhere." He replied. Mercutio sent him a funny look and hurried inside. Stanton shut the door, looking around. A musty smell filled the air heavily along with some other unidentifiable scent. Old Victorian styled furniture pieces were covered up with old, dusty tarps. A large chandelier hung at the center of the hallway, covered with dust and cobwebs. The floorboards creaked as Jakk and R.T ran around, searching every part of the house they could. Meanwhile, Mercutio stuck close to Stanton, who wondered into the kitchen.
"I feel sort of bad for that family…" Mercutio murmured as he scanned the old kitchen. All the fancy China silverware and plates were still set out like a dinner was to begin soon. Stanton stared at the table as if he were dreaming. Mercutio watched him stare, then wondered into another hallway. He noticed several photos that were caked in so much dust, they weren't even visible. So, Mercutio reached out and brushed away at the dust. The photo was revealed and Mercutio gasped in shock, jumping back as if he had just seen a ghost…
In the photo was a very lovely looking family. A mother and father seated at the center of an old sofa with their seven children seated all around them. One of them was so very familiar… The one seated beside his mother. His hair was swept off to the right, his eyes staring past the camera at the person who was taking it. His soft, childish features were so recognizable that Mercutio almost screamed.
"Stanton…" Mercutio managed to choke. He whirled around and ran into the kitchen, only to find Stanton gone. He looked around frantically.
"Stanton?! Stanton, where are you?! R.T! Jakk!" He wailed, then ran out of the kitchen and slammed right into Stanton, who gave him a funny look.
"Mercutio? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Stanton mused, his green eyes brightening. Mercutio stared at him. He studied Stanton's face and knew right then that his suspicions were correct.
Stanton was the boy in the photo.
"Y-You're… A ghost…" Mercutio stammered. Stanton tilted his head slightly, cocking a brow.
"Hm…? A ghost? What would give you that idea?" He asked curiously. Mercutio took a small step back, reaching blindly behind him onto the kitchen table nearby. His fingers wrapped around an expensive China fork.
"I saw you! Your picture in the hallway! You were one of the kids killed here, weren't you? That's how you know the story and everything!" Mercutio accused. Stanton frowned.
"You can't prove that… Maybe I'm related to him in some weird way." He insisted.
"I can prove it!" Mercutio yelled and rammed the fork forward. Stanton froze as the fork went right into his chest. However, nothing happened. Instead, the fork fell from its place to reveal a nice little hole in Stanton's chest. No blood, no wound…
Mercutio stumbled back against the table, staring in complete horror at his discovery. Stanton lowered his eyes to the floor as the hole in his chest at itself up and disappeared with no trace of ever being there.
"No use in lying anymore… I'm sorry, Mercutio…" He murmured. Mercutio gulped.
"Why-How-I don't understand! You're… Dead!" He cried. Stanton frowned.
"Yea… I've been dead for 200 years, searching everywhere for someone to lift my father's curse."
"Curse?" Mercutio asked. Stanton scanned the kitchen vacantly as he recounted the memories.
"My father's soul is still within these walls. He keeps us bound here. I only escaped while he was torturing my mother. She gave me the chance the find salvation…"
"But… Who did you…?"
"I studied you, your brother, and Jakk to see which one of you is fit for the position of extorting my father back to his grave. We only want to live in peace, but we can't do that if my father is still here."
"How come he's not attacking you now?" Mercutio asked suspiciously. Stanton shrugged.
"I don't know for certain… He has his reasons. He is probably awaiting his move to attack whoever is fit for the position…" He mumbled.
"And who's that out of the three of us?" Mercutio asked blankly. Stanton gave him a weak smile.
"You'll know when the time is right… I'm just glad that I told someone. I've always been such a blabber mouth." He answered. Mercutio smiled sadly. He almost felt bad for Stanton. The poor boy had been bound to his home for 200 years with his murderer. Mercutio didn't know what to say now as he watched Stanton look around his old home.
"How're we supposed to know who will save you?" Mercutio asked at last, the thought not leaving his mind. Stanton lowered his eyes to Mercutio's, his pupils practically expanding.
"I don't know… I have to go. Find R.T and Jakk. Make sure they are safe."
"Uhm, okay…" Mercutio murmured as Stanton departed from the room. Mercutio took his chance and ran up the spiral staircase, his sneakers squeaking on the old, dusty wood. His blue eyes scanned the second floor. A long hallway with eight doors came into view around the corner. Each door had a very distinctive letter upon the door. Mercutio walked down the hallway, reading the letters in order. The first one was B, second R, third C, fourth K, fifth O, sixth L, and S upon the last one. The eighth door bared no letter. However, the door seemed to have been kicked open, seeing as the wooden door frame was splintered. Mercutio reached out and pushed the door open to find R.T sitting on the bed with Jakk, who was messing with a bottle of perfume.
"This place smells funny." Jakk mumbled as he shook the bottle. R.T rolled his eyes.
"Don't be such a baby," He muttered, then saw his twin in the doorway and smirked, "Hey, chicken. Where's Stanton? He chicken out on us?" Mercutio averted his eyes, entering the room cautiously. It was obvious this was the parents' bedroom and most likely housed the spirit of the murdering father.
"He, uh, didn't chicken out… He's…" His voice cut off at the sound of a loud bang from one of the rooms. He whirled around, paling with fear. R.T jumped up, knocking Jakk over, who tripped and dropped the glass bottle on the floor.
"Oh!" Jakk gasped in surprise, staring at the purple mess on the floor. R.T burst out laughing as Mercutio stared in horror.
"You-You broke it!" Mercutio cried.
"Oh, who cares? It's just an old perfume bottle. Ain't nothin' important anyway. The folks here is dead anyway." R.T snorted as he kicked the glass bottle across the room.
"R.T, this is bad! What if the ghosts get mad?" Mercutio asked.
"Uh, he has a point…" Jakk mumbled.
"Ain't no such things as spirits, you dunderheads." R.T retorted as he slammed his hand down on the bed, causing as cloud of dust to explode into the air. Jakk only coughed as a response while Mercutio peeked out into the hallway.
"Do you know what the letters are for?" Mercutio asked. Jakk nodded.
"My dad says he and his brother had them on their doors. It stands for the first letter of their names." He explained. Mercutio frowned, then looked out, his eyes locking on the door baring the letter S.
"We need to go to that room." He said and led the way to the room with an eager Jakk and a complaining R.T. Mercutio easily opened the door and pushed it open. It was dark in the room. Only the fuzzy, dusty outline of a small single bed and a dresser was seen. Mercutio moved his hands around for a light switch, but found none. R.T coughed, waving a hand in his face.
"Ugh, it smells somethin' bad in here!" He whined. Jakk shushed him, then sniffed and covered his nose.
"Oh! God, it does!" He cried in disgust. Mercutio ignored the stench, hoping it wasn't what he thought it was. As he stepped into the room, his foot hit something… Something odd that clanked about. The sound made all three boys freeze.
"What was that…?" Jakk asked, stepping back. R.T paused and laughed weakly.
"Just a toy, I bet you… Stanton said there was kids here afore, so… Maybe it's the kid's toy…" He said, more to comfort himself rather than the others. Mercutio gulped.
"I don't think that was a toy, R.T… We need some light…" He said shakily as he made his way across the room to the covered up and busted window. He moved the curtains letting in the moonlight. A loud scream made him jump and spin around. He froze in terror as he found himself staring at a skeleton on the floor. The skull was knocked sideways, away from the body, which was scattered along the floor, which seemed to be only painted a blackish-brown color in that area. R.T was staring at it in disbelief while Jakk jumped back.
"Oh, god that's real!" Jakk wailed.
"Dude, that's disgusting…" R.T muttered, losing his false Southern dialect.
"Ssh! D-Don't panic…" Mercutio said, trying to calm himself down. R.T glared at his twin.
"Are you dumb?! Mercutio, that's a real dead person!" He yelled angrily, not caring how much he sounded like his brother now. Mercutio glared back.
"It's not just any dead person, R.T! That's Stanton!" He snapped. Jakk blinked.
"Stanton? But he… He's not-"
"Dead?" A voice asked and they all whirled to face the doorway, where Stanton stood as a misty group of particles. His features were fuzzy, his body wispy now. He looked exhausted as well.
"S-Stanton…" Mercutio stuttered.
"You-You're-I-But…" Jakk stopped talking to start crying. The confusion and fear was giving him a migraine. R.T frowned.
"How come you didn't tell us before?!" He demanded. Stanton shrugged.
"How come you fake your accent?" He returned. R.T scowled.
"Cuz. I already look like that coward and I don't wanna sound like him!" He snapped. Mercutio cringed. Stanton frowned.
"And the reason I didn't tell you was because I was hoping you'd find out on your own, but if you're too dimwitted to do so, maybe you're worthless to me." He lowered his voice darkly, giving a very dangerous smirk. R.T glared at him.
"What do you mean worthless, you dead-"
"Guys, stop it! This isn't going to help anybody! Stanton needs us!" Mercutio tried, but Stanton was already angry.
"You picked the wrong person to fight with." Stanton growled and started forward, but stopped in mid-step. He took a jolting step back and screamed.
"Agh, nooo!" He wailed and quickly disappeared, poofing into a cloud of dust and vanishing. Mercutio winced.
"Great…" He muttered. R.T blinked.
"What happened?" He asked, reverting to his Southern dialect. Jakk frowned.
"Maybe it was his father, the bad ghost…" He mumbled thoughtfully. Mercutio nodded.
"Stanton needs our help. We need to try and send his father back to the grave."
"How do we do that?" R.T demanded.
"… What don't bad ghosts like?" Jakk asked. Mercutio frowned.
"Holy stuff!" R.T blurted.
"Holy stuff?" Jakk repeated, confused. R.T scowled, smacking him in the back of the head. Mercutio rolled his eyes.
"Holy stuff. You know, holy oil or whatever and crosses…" R.T drawled, annoyed. Mercutio looked around the eerily silent room now.
"Where do we find that?" He asked. R.T paused, tapping his chin as he attempted to figure it out. Jakk rubbed the back of his head where he was smacked.
"My parents always keep our Christian stuff in their closet… Maybe the other bedroom has Christian stuff." He tried. Mercutio and R.T nodded and led the way to the bedroom that they had broken into previously. Upon entering, R.T and Jakk got to work on searching for the goods while Mercutio kept watch at the door.
"Hey, check it out! I found a cross!" Jakk exclaimed, holding up a gold painted crucifix. R.T shrugged as he tucked a box of matches into his pocket.
"That should do." He agreed and they went on searching, just in case the cross didn't work. Mercutio watched them, his back turned to the door now and completely unnoticing the misty cloud behind him. A cold, hazy hand placed itself on Mercutio's shoulder and he let out a shocked yelp of surprise.
"Mommy and daddy don't like it when you go into their room…" A familiar voice mumbled. Mercutio whirled around in shock and found himself staring at a younger version of Stanton. He was a lot shorter and looked to be about six or seven, maybe even ten.
"Stanton? What happened?" He asked. Stanton rolled his eyes around blankly as if searching around the room for an answer.
"Daddy's really mad… Daddy hurt me." He answered at last in a soft voice. Mercutio blinked.
"I don't understand." He said aloud. R.T came up behind him with Jakk at his side.
"Maybe every time he's scared, he turns into a little kid. You know, like the movies." Jakk suggested as he watched the young Stanton shift. Stanton looked up at the teenagers, confused.
"Daddy's gonna hurt you if you don't leave. Daddy's really mad…" He whispered hypnotically. Mercutio opened his mouth, but the child version of Stanton suddenly began to become another cloudy whirlpool in the air. However, instead of disappearing, Stanton came back to his normal teenaged self. Shockingly enough, Stanton grabbed a hold of Mercutio's arms and jerked him close. Mercutio yelped as Stanton held onto him, smirking darkly.
"I found you. You're the one out of the three that'll help me escape. All you have to do is let me slip into your body…" He cooed in Mercutio's ear.
"You lied!" Mercutio gasped, trying to squirm away from the ghost's grip. R.T glared, clenching his fists tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.
"Let go of him!" He yelled. Jakk only stared in disbelief. Stanton scowled at the older of the twins, refusing to release Mercutio.
"I had to see which one of you was the most kind hearted, the most healthy and fit person for this entire ordeal. So, I faked a story… Most of the way anyway. You can't extort a ghost from his eternal grave… It's impossible. However, a ghost can possess anyone and leave like that." He explained, then hugged Mercutio close grinning in triumphant.
"You can't have him!" R.T argued. Stanton frowned, still hanging onto a squirming Mercutio.
"What was that? And why do you care? You always said you hated your brother… You always tried to dress, talk, and be completely different so you weren't mistaken for your goodie-two-shoes of a brother… Why do you want him back?" He challenged. Mercutio looked at R.T, whining in pain. R.T frowned.
"… Because. Mercutio's my brother and no matter what I do that hints that I hate him, he'll always be my brother. And you can't have him!" He barked and tore the crucifix from Jakk's grip. Stanton only had time to step back as the cross flew at him, easily smacking into his face. He let out a sharp cry and released Mercutio to the floor, stumbling back as the cross fell from his face. In its place, a large red print began to grow, turning white after a second. Stanton screamed in agony, pressing his hand to his face as if to relieve the pain.
"Argh! You'll pay for this!" He shouted wrathfully and disappeared. R.T ran to Mercutio, pulling him up to his feet. Mercutio coughed weakly, groaning.
"Ugh… God, I thought I was going to suffocate-Hey!" He yelped as R.T gave him a brotherly hug.
"I'm sorry, Mercutio. If I ever made you feel bad, I'm really sorry. I'm such a bad brother…" R.T apologized. Mercutio sighed, but relaxed now.
"It's… Okay…" He mumbled. Jakk smirked.
"Awww, how sweet." He cooed. R.T whirled around, blushing furiously.
"Be quiet, Jakk!" He snapped. Mercutio laughed quietly, then looked outside, eyes going wide.
"Oh no! It's almost sunrise! We're gonna get in trouble!" He cried. R.T frowned as he glanced at the window, then grinned.
"I have a way out." He replied and ran to the window, punching out the rest of the glass with his elbow. Mercutio only watched as R.T went to work in making a nice exit for them, by tearing away the glass shards and moving to throw the mattress of the bed outside to land on. All the while, Jakk was curiously poking about the room.
"Let's go, guys!" R.T urged, grabbing Jakk by the collar and dragging him to the window. Mercutio nodded and they all went to the window in a hurry. R.T pushed Mercutio out, followed by Jakk, then pulled the matchbox out of his pocket.
"What're you doing?" Mercutio called up.
"Sending these fellas to the place where they belong!" R.T replied, then struck a few matches and tossing them into the room before jumping out himself. The three boys took off down the hill as the large, orange sun made its way into the sky. Looking back, the house was only a large group of flames that licked at the sky, shrieking loudly. Smoke gathered all around like a giant rain cloud. The most interesting feature, however, was the group of white, cloudy particles that shot up into the sky. Mercutio sighed with relief.
"Good… They're gone and so is the house." He added. R.T nodded.
"Thank god for that." He answered. Jakk stretched.
"Let's get home already. I'm so tired; I'm so skipping school tomorrow to sleep." He yawned.
"Me too." R.T agreed.
"Me three." Mercutio approved. The three headed home quietly. However, Jakk stopped suddenly, wincing as a large cloud of dust smacked into the back of his head.
"Ow!" He yelped.
"What's wrong?" Mercutio asked. Jakk paused for a second, his eyes flickering for a second before he smiled.
"Nothing, I just got a really bad headache." He answered. R.T smirked.
"Join the club." He stated, then split off with Mercutio to head home. Meanwhile, Jakk twitched and coughed as the white dust cloud got comfortable inside of him. He smirked.
"I'm not finished yet…" Stanton's voice muttered from Jakk's mouth, then whirled around and ran to his home. Or rather, Jakk's home… Jakk walked into his house, shutting the door and sneaking past the kitchen. However, his father looked up.
"Did you just come through the front door?"
"Yea, I went for a short jog… And you know what?"
"I discovered something on my jog…"
"And what's that, son?" His father asked. Jakk smiled, his violet eyes turning an eerie, dark green.
"I think I'm a whole new person."
A/N: Done in a rush, sorry for any mistakes. Last minute school report, which I thought was pretty good.