Will The Dead Come Out To Play? (SHORT STORY)

Will The Dead Come Out To Play?

The inside of the tent came to life as three young boys passed around a torch, each of them taking turns to scare the others. Shadows spookily danced all over the roof, accompanied by the impersonation of monsters by each of the kids.

“Hey Benny, come on, you didn’t tell us a story yet” Said Phinn, who was the youngest of the group at age 10.

“Yeah, what gives? Me and Phinn already went” Whined Jasko, who was often the obnoxious one of the group.

Benny shifted uncomfortably in his place. Its not that he didn’t have any scary stories to tell, no quite the opposite actually, it’s just that he didn’t feel safe relaying his tale. As the oldest of the bunch, he did have more scary stories than his friends. but at the end of the day he was still merely 12 years old, and what he had seen when he was younger had truly disturbed him.  However, he had agreed to camp outside in his garden and tell ghost stories with the others, so it would be weird if he didn’t contribute to the fun.  Against the pleas of his own intuition screaming at him, Benny opened his mouth.

“Alright guys fine, but I’m warning you, you’ll be shaking by the end.” He sighed. Phinn and Jasko giggled in excitement and stared at him eagerly, as he recalled his experience to them.

                    Three years ago.

The young boy whizzed down the road on his bike. The gentle evening breeze tickled his skin as he went. Benny was riding along an old farm road just outside of town. He had gotten a new bike for his birthday and was eager to take it for a spin. Fortunately, this road was typically unused, and so he was safe to ride away to his heart’s content.

As he rode past a wheat field, an unusual feeling crept up inside him. He stopped pedalling, and gazed at the field for a moment. something was definitely off. The field looked the same as it always had. but it felt wrong. His eyes darted along the field until settling on the familiar sight of an old and withered barn, at the back.

The barn's features were blotted out by the blinding glare of the twilight sun. It hadn’t changed in any way, but he knew something was wrong with it. Benny got off his bike and nervously walked through the field, his eyes focusing on the ominous silhouette of the barn in front of him. Something about it was beckoning him ever closer. Dread rushed through the poor kid, building in intensity with each step. He didn’t want to be here anymore, but his curiosity had reached an almost supernatural level, and was nudging him on.

The wind glided through the wheat, the rustling of which, invoked paranoia in Benny. He couldn’t help but imagine some frightful thing waiting to ambush him. His feelings were only made all that much worse by the unsettling situation he was in.

The sinking glow of twilight was bathing the structure in an even mix of light and darkness. And as the sun proceeded to set further, the darkness took over more of the decrepit walls, swallowing the areas previously covered in welcoming light, and replacing them with vile shadow. Benny’s mind was racing with anxiety and his imagination was running rampant. The building in its shadowed form, was no longer a recognisable sight, it was now a giant hand reaching out to grab him, with its foundations warping and twisting out from the ground to spew its evil across the world.

Benny shook his head and tried to blot out the frightening thoughts. He emerged from the wheat field and stood before the source of his overwhelming fear. The barn had lost most of its colour over the years. The place had been abandoned for quite some time and had fallen into an obvious state of disrepair. Strangely, the giant doors were not sealed shut. They were slightly ajar, as if to tempt the young boy to enter. He succumbed to the temptation and did exactly that. He didn’t even know what was happening anymore or why he was really doing this. Was he actually in control of himself?