Doomsday

It mostly rains here

Weather in Tuscaloosa was always predictable. Foggy and dark. It always affected the mood of the people living there, making everyone depressed and unsociable. If you where born here, you where more than likely to die here as well. Many people never ventured out of there own neighbourhood unless it was to shop or go to the weekly bingo ever Saturday night. Even then people wanted to stay home, ever since citizens started to go missing.

You sat on your back porch, a ciggerate in hand as you started off into the woods. It was early morning and the sun was still rising. Bringing the ciggerate to your lips you took a drag and threw the butt on the ground, stomping on it with your foot. You let out a breath and pulled your jacket tighter around your frame, the cold air causing goosebumps to form on your skin. A small smile fell on your lips as you saw a shadow at your feet, its tail curling around you leg before it disappeared. Turning around, you went back into your house.

Pouring yourself a drink you went and sat down on your couch, placing a cushion on your lap for the sense of security. You turned the TV on and put on a random show to watch as you scrolled through a random article about another missing person. It was becoming predictable now. The police would try and find the person but they would never be found, so the police gave up and wrote them off as dead. This made the parents have a funeral with nothing inside the casket, never having a sense of closure. You could never tell them that you had seen the missing people. They would label you as ‘crazy’ and ‘a freak’ or even send you off to a mental institution. You shivered and placed your phone down on the coffee table, now interested in the show playing.

You had been watching this show for a few hours now. The sun was up, but it was still dark and foggy outside. It was then that your phone started to vibrate from its spot. You stood up, the cushion falling to the floor as you answered the phone.

“Hello, Y/N speaking.” You spoke as you paced around your living room. The caller didn't reply at first, only his heavy breathing could be heard on the other side.

“Are you the clairvoyant ?” A deep voice asked. His voice sounded raspy and shaky. You furrowed your brows at the question and replied, “Yeah that's me… How did you get this number ?” Again he didn't reply for a few seconds but when he did his answer made sense.

“I found your website, you deal with the supernatural and things like that don't you ?” You nodded your head to yourself and let out a soft hum of agreement. On the other side of the phone was the sound of things moving around and a quiet voice talking to themselves.

“I need help with something, if I give you my address can you come round and help me. I promise ill pay you!” You could tell the voice on the other side was desperate and in dire need of some help. You mumbled to yourself and listed the pros and cons of saying yes. However you needed the money for food and rent. Running your had down your face you walked towards your front door, “Yeah sure, Give me your address.” He quickly handed you the address and you nodded, “Ill be there in about 20 minuets.” He mumbled a quick ‘Thank you’ and hung up the phone. You let out a loud sigh and grabbed your bag, before heading to your car, a sour look on your face.

Music was quietly playing as you drove to the mans house, you didn't even know his name. How stupid could you be ? Saying yes to helping a random man that asked for help with something supernatural. For all you know he could be a serial killer! You ran a hand [ through your hair/over your head ] and rolled your eyes at your stupid mistake. It wasn't long before you pulled up to his house. It was near the outskirts of the town which was surrounded by a large forest. Letting out a shaky breath you got out the car, bag slung over your shoulder.

You didn't even need to knock on the door before it was swung open by a tall man. His long black hair was put in bun, which looked slightly matted. His brown eyes examined your face and you internally shrunk under his gaze. He wore a white button up shirt and black dress pants with a belt holding them up. He looked like a rich guy. So why did he need your help ? Something that concerned you was the scar on the side of his mouth, making it look like he tried to carve a smile into his face. It reminded you of that true crime case about that boy. What was his name ? Oh! Jeffrey Alan Woods.