Ghost

Practice

"Alright team, you know the drill." says the coach. He stands on the fake grass of the football field, arms folded. John is wearing his black cleats and a white muscle shirt. He bends over on the grass, looking at his fellow team members. He looks to his right, looking for Marcus.

"Red thirty two, hut!" yells one of the players. They clash into each other, one throwing the ball across the field. John stands there, watching the ball fly out of his reach.

"What are you doing, Johnny boy!? Go get it!" yells the coach. John snaps out of his trance but is tackled by another teammate. They both plummet to the ground. "Boy, get your ass over here!" yells the coach. John gets up, shaking his head in confusion.

"I'm sorry coach, I don't know what happened." he says.

"It's okay, boy. I think you should go home. Practice is almost over anyway. You better snap out of that shit for the game tomorrow, you heard?" he says patting John on the back. He nods and makes his way towards the bench, grabbing his phone and clothes. He waves at the coach and starts down the field.

"Let's run it again boys! Where the hell is Marcus!?" he yells from the distance. John continues to walk out of the field and through the track. The yelling fades. The boys continue to ram into each other on the grass.

Clouds surround the school's field, darkening it. After walking through the track, he makes his way behind the stands of the stadium. Suddenly, his cell phone begins to vibrate. He pulls it out from the cluster of clothes and notices the phone number is blocked. Confused, he taps his screen and places the phone on his ear.

"Yo." he says in a confused voice.

"Omaha." responds the voice. John looks around him, his eyebrow raised.

The masked murderer lashes out at John from behind the concession stand, slashing his arm. John yells and swings at him, catching his face. The killer falls back and swings his blade at John again, except he misses. John sprints at him and tackles him on the ground, knocking the killer down with John on top of him. John punches the killer in his masked face, swinging hard. In a rapid movement, the killer manages to jab him in his shoulder. The black ghost gets on top of John, who is holding his wound. The killer grabs John by his locks of hair and slams his head on the concrete, silencing John. He closes his eyes and stops moving. Grabbing his heavy and unconscious body, he begins to drag John away from the stadium, leaving nothing but a few barely visible drops of blood on the ground.

"You've got a game tomorrow, and it isn't football, Johnny boy."