Return of the Wicked Sickness

The Bump in the Night

The blue moon shines over Fic-City's streets. No peeps. No perps. Nothing. Nothing 'cept for the rain that begins with a drop that turns into an even downpour. The streets bathe in the water. It cleans off the dirt and grime left from ice cream and chalk, sadly. Not unfortunately, the blood of previous attacks is washed off, and so is the actual dirt left behind by the selfish. No stirrings occur for several minutes. The aqua painting sits still yet is never able to dry. Hints of blue from the moon reflect perfectly from the shop and building windows, these being paintings in their own right. The lights are on too which further brings the dead city to life. Everything is in harmony. What's only heard throughout the night is the downpour cleaning the city streets, sidewalks, alleys, and buildings: leaving behind shine and neatness in its wake. Again, everything is in harmony with not a creeper or predator in sight. Inverse clatters of feet soon ring out aside from the downpour from the sky. The figure moves from street building to street building till it reaches a big TV. This looks like those TVs from the times of positivity in the negative and positive aspects. He often finds it annoying. He prefers the better TVs like the one that covers that whole building on Flanagan. It's what he wants if his image is to retain itself in its full glory. Speaking of that full glory, it gets displayed in front of him with that familiar warning. Stay indoors. Lock it all up. Find and keep a weapon with you. Ya da ya da ya da.
"Heh heh heh," The sinister villain chuckles, observing the perfect figure in front of him. Oh, how he's missed his time with the people. He turns his head, eyes glowing bright with life. He licks his teeth when he sees a particular sight. A couple in their house are preparing themselves. Bathrobes on, lights going out, but before he can get a better look, the windows are covered with baby-aqua blue curtains. No perverts are gonna see them playing downstairs. Nor will it be possible upstairs with it being taken care of an hour ago. It doesn't matter for the shadowy figure. He'll visit 'em later. He turns here and there. None are in sight. None... save for another group inside a building. Coworkers are celebrating another's promotion from what he gathers. He may not be deaf, but he can't hear what they're saying. Yet his grin never fades for, according to him, it doesn't matter. Darkness swarms the figure and he ends up on that building discussed just seconds previous. His lenses look at their skeletons from the top. Five of 'em are present yet none are spooky and scary. The figure goes to the chimney and then to the windows. Dramatic entrance, yes. Would he want that? No, not yet. Turning off this little trick of his, the figure goes to another building, this being the one with the best number of people. The best people to scare, of course. Three on one floor, five on another, and two on top. Which will he go for first?
"Hmm?" The frightening menace looks up and down. Where should he go? A vent? No. A window? No. The front door? No.
"Mmm," The figure in the shadows emotes in ecstasy. He enters through the backdoor. Hiding in the closet, the shadowy figure sees it all. A tray of snacks, conversation, the news channel plays on the TV, and many more nonsensical details he can care less about. At least now it's bearable because they're not talking about some promotion that's not as important as to what's in store for his truly.
"Yeah, that guy was so dumb," A woman snorts.
"Right?" Another retorts.
"How stupid," A guy brags. Whilst in the closet, the figure looks around. There's the decapitation of one, the mutilation of another. Throwing people out of the building. Maybe leaving a mark. But there's their fear reactions to consider if he'd act out now. Turning his eyes, the wheels turn too as his eyes look at the soundproofing of the room, something that's been installed last night from what he'd last observed. Perfect. Going to the leader, it'd be so easy to kill the head of the pack, but he doesn't want their fear to begin there. That'd be too easy.
"I'm gonna go get more drinks," The leader tells his friends. Going to that closet, the figure's eyes widened. A dark cloud oozes out of the closet. Cans fall, clashing and banging on the floor.
"Huh?!" One voice shouts.
"What?!" So does another.
"Uhh-" Before more voices speak, the lights go out. Panic sets in. Perfect. No lights come on. If they try, they fall, hitting one of the cans.
"AHH!" A scared woman screeches.
"Ow!" A woman strongly says.
"God!" The woman grunts, trying to get up.
"P-" Before that woman can respond, she yelps, no sound coming afterward.
"Huh?!" Another woman emotes. Footsteps trample the floor with panicked ones slipping on a disgusting liquid.
"AHH!" That woman nearly screams which is heard throughout the room. But no one can hear them from the other side. Not even the top floor is aware of this occurrence. Murmurs and whimpers follow. Scratches sting their eardrums but the ones standing up can't move anymore. Eyes dart from one direction to the other. They can barely see a thing, but their hearing's still sharp, stinging thanks to those sounds. Dead silence perpetuates in that room for some time now when the noises suddenly stop. Eyes of green and hazel soon adjust but they're met with a grotesque sight. Two scratch marks. On the wall, it appears one of them had been removed recently. Blood soon reaches the other man's shoe. The man looks back and forth. No creature or such is in sight. The two men stare intently into those scratch marks wondering what's to be done now. Soon, another scratch mark is removed, the leader turning around to find himself alone. Tapping his pointing finger on his shoulder, the creature gets the man's attention, softly laughing as he's gone from the man's sight seconds after turning around. No movement comes from his paralyzed body even after the lights turn back on. His hazel eyes look to the left. Red liquid. Cans everywhere. Scratches. His body soon regains consciousness as the leader's mind starts giving signals again. After a quick look to the right, the floor only having scratches with the wall one's being mostly gone, the leader leaves the room. After all, he doesn't own the place. The monster does.
"Yeah, yeah. Donna- Donna..." Frederick argues with his wife whilst he and his employee go over the weekly storage assets.
Frederick argues, "I know. Listen, I'll be home before dinner. I promise." Sighing, the argument continues. Samantha, amid her reports being written, looks toward the door. Freedom. Oh, how she's longing for freedom right now. Bloody hell if it'd come now... Footsteps can soon be heard by both employer and employee.
"Donna, I gotta go. Ok. Bye," Donna's husband says before hanging up in a hurry. Quickly, with a given head glance, the woman goes to get the door.
"I'm sorry, but we-" Samantha's voice loses all emotion when she sees no one there. She looks back to her boss.
"What-" Whilst standing up, the man hears an elevator go down to the building's bottom level.
"Do you think it's..." Samantha can't finish. There's this feeling in her gut to emote how she feels something's wrong. She emotes with her face filled with freight. Her quivering lips. Shaky hands. Her mind pumping out images of what this thing is capable of.
"Samantha, I don't know. Maybe Sarah or Drake are pulling a prank on us. After all, they won't be back before Halloween, so-" His rational attempt at calming her down gets screamed away.
"AHH!" A certain Avenged Sevenfold song plays outta nowhere which scares the two outta their skins. Quickly, Samantha runs to the elevator, turning the music down to have it muted altogether. Samantha runs back to Fredrick.
"What's going on?" Samantha says, terrified.
"I don't know, but-" The lights go off before Fredrick finishes. The only lights on are some torches they have for emergencies and their eyes.
"This can't be..." Frederick barely reasons to himself. Drake and Sarah, having known them for years, wouldn't have done this. If they did, they'd be shipped off to RSBC or some other mental health ward before being fired. This... This...
"What are you doing?" Frederick questions Samantha who's on her phone.
"Calling the cops!" Samantha shrieks.
"Good plan," Frederick compliments. The two, bats in their hands, move close together down the hallways. The cops won't be here till a few minutes. Best they'd leave before their blood's splattered all over the place. No macabre drawings are seen nor are large rivers of blood when they walk these hallways. Both walk and walk endlessly. Samantha turns this way and that to get a good feel of where this bastard could pop up. Fredrick looks here and there too albeit more calmly. Samantha's eyes soon lock onto some drawings. Frederick stops dead in his tracks as does Samantha.
"My god," Frederick gasps. Franklin Macari's childhood lies on the walls next to them. They see him smash plush spiders. Are they the spiders, or was this the beginning of his crimes? The two start walking again as they continue this museum tour of Fearmeister's past life. Samantha goes to the other side where it doesn't stop there. There's Fearmeister's many faces chugging along as they recount how fun it's been to watch some old horror movies and paint dark artistry. Samantha goes back to the other side. Franklin sneaks out here and punches his younger siblings here. Brutal bastard. Fredrick has to say. This is probably who Franklin was all along. A monster. The two of them keep walking as they turn a corner here and there. They walk and walk with no way to stop. They feel as though Fearmeister watches them. He can be anywhere. Samantha sees a hallway. Noises are heard from glass breaking to tables getting smashed, and they're much more vicious than the fate of those plush spiders. They don't go down there, no way. But there's no other way of escape. No windows can be seen. No other rooms to hide in. So they keep walking, boss and employee tired and afraid, but not willing to give up. Frederick pays less attention to the little museum they're forced to go through but does nothing to get rid of it due to Fearmeister's... passionate ways of showing pride in his work. The elevator soon comes to focus as it opens up. No one's there but, as they notice, the formerly white-polished floor now wears a bloody paint coat. It's so perfectly sculpted onto it. The symbol on the wall inside the elevator is also in blood drawn to be the demon's face. The third floor and second floor's fate? They didn't stand a chance. Samantha readies herself whilst her boss stands tall, more stable and confident.
"Let's go. We-" Then, before he does something, clawesque hands form a weird position from behind in which their fear is feeding him. Once this position ends in two silent minutes, Samantha's fear being the strongest of the two, he stops and takes a look at them. Could he ignite the town like this? The demon appears to the man and woman. He looks up and down, and then thinks. No. Too easy. He then teleports away. Taking this opportunity, the two bolt to the elevator. The elevator, as soon as Fredrick punches in the correct coordinates, goes down to the garage.
"Come on!" Frederick says, bats still in hand.
"O-" No more sounds come from either as Samantha and her boss are grabbed by their mouths. Their bats drop and a foot closes the doors. A ding to go up rings out in the garage, and that's the end of the opening act.
"Hmm. Hmm-hmm." Humming is heard throughout the household as a painting is in the center of the walls colored green and red. Green for the assets he's needed for... reasons. Red? 'Cause no one's getting outta here. Not in this horror story. His fiery eyes go to the parents' bedroom. Could he get to them first, maybe tell the kids Mommy and Daddy are going on a trip and he'll take them to them? No. Also, who's to say they'd not put up a fight? The burning infernos in his eyes catch wind of this kid's karate match. Yeah, if that kid survives, no doubt he'd try to pull a Bruce Wayne and seek vengeance. Ooh, how Batman made his gears grind, using his weapon for all the wrong reasons. The kid even dares to have a little bracelet dedicated to the Dark Knight. He goes to the little girl. Yep, this one's as tasteless as they come. She doesn't even like the proper horror movies, even more audaciously than the boy. The parents become his final concern in his plan. Boring. Loving. Bleh. Ok, they're last. Now the fun part. With quick thinking, the demon sets his sights on the Batman fanboy. Opening and closing with deafening silence, the dreaded demon gazes upon his prey. Using what he had before, he absorbs the boy's fear. It's bucket loads. Oh, yes. It's so exquisite. So rich. He can understand. Wanting to make his family proud, the insecurity of never being enough, all the stuff he could care less about. He never had to worry, for his family was nothing but a long part-time job he finished long ago. This kid won't worry anymore either. Moments later, he's in the little girl's room. He watches her. Then, with the paint from his previous project, he paints her cheeks to make her cry blood. Should he make her scream? No. Too predictable and too cheap. The demon opens his claws up. Now to the parents' room. Mommy and Daddy sleep peacefully. He doesn't even think to check their fear levels or the little girl's. They're all so bland and pointless. The perfect models for those fifties sitcoms his father adored. It's decided. These people aren't worth it. So, yet again, he gets his claws out. Running through each building and not taking a moment to look back, the shadowy figure goes to the top of the building he chooses. Here, he begins plotting. Should he scar a bigger family? Get the kids to sing in a choir? Should he go to the biggest workplace in MainCorner? No... They'd notify the town too quickly. Quickly. Quickly. Yes... He knows just where to go.
"Mmm," Pamela sighs without a breath coming out. She's in bed right now, resting near one of the best people she knows. Olivia Addison, her girlfriend. Her eyes can barely open but she's still happy. Hours go by that she can't count but doesn't care. Then, as she slept, movement in the bed Pamela shared with Olivia begins.
"Mmm?" Pamela grunts. Her eyes begin to adjust to the darkness of her room. When they do, the newswoman sees her girlfriend sitting up, her nude backside being all she sees. Pamela, her body struggling to wake up, shakes around, trying to escape her mind's control of her body. Olivia's head turns to Pamela, smiling innocently.
"Morning," Oliva sweetly says. Oliva goes down to kiss Pamela's cheek. Oliva turns her head back. Shuffling around is what she does next.
"Morning," Pamela responds, groggy. Stretching right after, she sits up, and like her partner, the sheets cover her body.
"Do you want me to stay?" Olivia says with a giggle. This is when Pamela's light yet hairy legs met with the soft ones of Olivia's. Pamela's lips soon meet Olivia's cheek for a few milliseconds.
"Just returning the favor," Pamela utters, a chuckle coming soon after before pecking with Olivia.
"Good morning," Pamela whispers, much more lively than before. Pamela goes back down to her pillow.
"Well," Oliva gets her bathrobe on, unseen by no one but only seen by Pamela. "I'd best get ready for the day." Olivia finishes putting on her bathrobe. She goes to the bathroom door, Pamela doing the same as her, but it's not seen by anyone, not even Olivia.
"You could always join me," Olivia offers, teasing for more fun.
"That'd be nice," Pamela starts before getting back into her bed, bathrobe on. "But-"
"Let me guess," Olivia begins with a sigh. "Work?" She asks, looking back at her girlfriend.
"Yep," Pamela says, her laptop already on her legs.
"Ok," Olivia says, not saying it again. In and out of the room she goes as she enters the bathroom. Work comes first for the woman of Hogus-Bogus News. Sure, they'd showered before and the day before their lovely night together yesterday, but Olivia can handle not being with someone as she showered for one instance. Although, in Olivia's case, this is the second time this week. She's been doing this for months now. Pamela pays no mind to the slight aggression in the door shutting and gets right to work.
"Hmm." Pamela goes to her latest article. Getting her earbuds on, Pamela types and types away to the words of her latest interview, it being anonymous in the respect of the person's privacy.
"So, you saw... the Macabre, sir?" Pamela asks from long ago.
"Yes..." The man with a gravelly voice mutters.
"One of them was the one with..." The man pauses. The newswoman, as she's listening to the rest of the interview, types and types more with her being aware of what the man says, but she needs at least some background noise to work from home. Even if this article wasn't due for a few hours, Pamela likes getting things done no matter what. As she works, faint noises can be heard from the bathroom. A thud. Shower beatings of water. The usual according to her. After all, it's not the first time Olivia had dropped stuff or had the shower on that type of blast. With a few clicks, lookarounds, and done!
"Alright," Pamela says with triumph. As she closes her laptop after sharing her article with her employer, Pamela puts her work away.
"Mmm." Pamela stretches some more. Then she gets up, looking at her bathroom door.
Pamela says in a quiet sing-song voice, "Coming, Olivia." It's a little thing they have done since high school. When they're sad together or even the happiest around each other, it's a good cheer-up mantra. Only now will it be for some... lovely time.
"Wha..." Pamela's eyes widen. Her plan has backfired right then and there. Olivia's here one minute, but when she opened the curtains, expecting to charm Olivia to make up for that refusal of hers earlier, now she's gone.
"Uhh..." Pamela looks here and there. Nope. She's not dreaming. Exiting the bathroom, Pamela looks towards the living room. No breakfast making here. Pamela looks near the table, the front door, and even in the hallway closet. A tightness forms in her chest, Pamela searching through spots quicker and quicker.
"Olivia!" Pamela shouts, freaked out internally.
"Olivia! Olivia!" She keeps shouting as she searches her home. Some thuds soon catch the attention of her eardrums. They're from her room. Running towards her room, no other noises are heard, the noise stopping when Pamela enters her room. Under the bed? No. In her bathroom again? No. Pamela looks throughout her room. Her pictures are filled with so many fun times. Dennis and Sam kicking ass. Alex getting her first book published. Dennis getting promoted to lieutenant. Addison and her with their many adventures at restaurants, museums, and even mountain climbing. Her parents taking her out for ice cream. Even trinkets that reminded her of her adventures in the news and real-world remain untouched.
"Olivia," Pamela says, trying to sound brave. Light is coming into the room but it isn't enough to light the room up. Only her eyes act as her lights. Creeping forwards in a steady but cautious manner, Pamela goes to the door. Millions of thoughts come and go through her mind. Sweat starts from her forehead. Her hand is now on the closet door. Carefully, Pamela opens it, a bat concealed behind the nightstand should she need it. Her eyes go wide. Although not heard, she's screaming and all of Fic-City will too.