"Nirvana"

The Paranormal

[2985]

"Braylon! Where are you leading me?" A boy questioned, lagging behind this so called Braylon. He was leading him around the back of a school building, "I told you Tristan, we're looking for the school ghost." He replied firmly.

Tristan flicked his flashlight on, glancing around the darkened area. The sun was slowly setting, and they were on school grounds after being closed, now searching one of the old storage sheds. Tristan feeling kind of sheepish, remaining behind Braylon.

Braylon brushed his brown coloured dreads out of the way, the lighter tips dangling, glancing through the single pane of the sheds door, the interior was empty. Tristan was doing the same at one of the other windows, "Are you sure this is a storage shed? There's nothing in it."

"Yeah.." Braylon replied, his hand being placed against the bolt, yanking it open. The door creaked open, with Braylon stepping back to let it be opened wider, before stepping inside. Tristan followed him through, panning his flashlight to every corner of the shed.

"Yeah... it's empty." Tristan commented, Braylon glancing back, "No shit sherlock, it's abandoned." He reminded him, with the boy looking down at the floor, the collected dust being kicked around by their movements.

"Alright. You said there was a ghost in here, so where is-" Tristan was cut off, the shed door jolting shut, with the bolt firing across, sealing them inside. Braylon span around, rushing to the windows, glancing outside, while Tristan charged the door, attempting to jig it open.

The door was sealed shut, with noone outside in sight, the two boys moving to bang on a window either side of the door. Calling out in panicked voices, with noone on the outside hearing them, yet they continued to bang and yell.

He felt a tug on his leg, scoffing, flailing his foot for a moment, before returning to banging on the window. Tristan's leg was tugged once more, the fabric of his clothes being pulled roughly, "Cmon Braylon, now's not the time to be messing around!" He snarled, with Braylon pausing.

"What?" He was confused, the two being a few feet apart. Tristan glanced down at his foot, a hand tugging on it, before back up at Braylon, who was stood at the opposite window, both of his hands pressed up against the pane.

They glanced back, with the shed now being full of old contents. The hand vanished, and Tristan felt no pressure on his foot, spinning around with a newfound fear. "What the..?" He questioned, glancing over at Braylon, who instead of fearful, looked almost... curious.

He walked deeper into the shed, which seemed to be slowly expanding, now the size of a classroom, instead of the small enclosed space it was prior. The two walking deeper into it together, with a ping sounding above them.

They glanced up, hit with a dull yellow light, Braylon glancing down, flicking his flashlight off. He holstered it in a small sack he carried at his right, with Tristan holding his tightly, forgetting to turn it off.

The dusty boxes to their left shuffled, with the sheepish boy flashing his tool in it's direction. His eyes were wide, and he was growing even more scared, less curious in fact. Braylon being the opposite, taking the initiative and wandering towards the sound they heard.

"Don't go! You idiot!" Tristan exclaimed, yet his voice was barely above a whisper. He charged after his friend, the two glancing up at the boxes, shifting between them. Tristan paused, placing his flashlight down on the shelf, before lifting a box off the top shelf.

He stumbled back, adjusting to the weight he was carrying, Braylon stepping closer. Tristan blew the dust off the top, with his friend waving the air infront of him, blowing the residue away. But the cardboard box in his hands held documents.

"What... documents...? School shit maybe?" Tristan questioned, turning and placing it down on an empty shelf, the two searching the box for an opening. "What the hell? Is it all one bit of cardboard?" Braylon questioned, with Tristan placing his hand in the way.

He whipped out a boxcutter, clicking the blade out, with Braylon stammering, "Don't!" He protested, "You idiot.." Braylon then insulted him, stepping closer and snagging the boxcutter. He clipped the corner of it, before handing it back over to Trsitan.

He placed his fingers around the corner, attempting to dig them in, simultaneously making the hole bigger. He then got a grip on the rip, before tearing it wide open, stammering and hitting the shelf behind him.

A few boxes collapsed from the shelves, hitting Braylon and then the floor, with Tristan glancing over, watching his friend shield himself. The box with the files in them sliding off the shelf, hitting the floor, with the documents falling out.

Braylon crouched down, lifting them up, "What the hell..?" Tristan pondered, stepping closer, leaning down and taking out a few documents himself. He flipped the first one open, glancing between the pages, before doing the same with the second.

He flicked them onto the empty shelf, crouching down and taking more out, while Braylon thoroughly read the files in his hand. "Hey..." Tristan paused, with his friend perking up, placing his thumb on the page, now focusing on whatever he was to be alerted about.

"They're... all the same.. and they're about this janitor...?" He questioned, glancing at the files in Braylon's hand, "Are they all the same for you?" He then asked, with the dreadhead nodding, "This is the same as what you said the rest were, so I suspect they're all just copies." Braylon responded, before opening it up once more, his thumb still holding down the page he was on.

"It's.. files.. like a murder case." Braylon spat his words out, flicking the document closed. "The pages start to repeat, and it just yaps over and over about some janitor being killed, and the school covered it up, but..." He then paused, with Tristan standing there, waiting for him to continue.

"TRISTAN LOOK OUT!!" Braylon reached out, shoving the boy over, before diving down himself, with the shelves being cleaved in half. Boxes flew down from above, showering them, with the dust clouding up, causing them to cough.

Braylon stammered up first, snatching Tristan by the wrist and helping him to his feet, with the dull yellow lightbulb shattering, returning them to darkness. Tristan went to snatch his flashlight, but a crony foot stamped down on it, despite the tall shelf it was on.

He looked up with wide eyes, Braylon dragging him away, the two turning to rush towards the door. The dreadhead ripped his flashlight out, flicking it ahead to display their path, with something bouncing from shelf to shelf, knocking them over, before launching the boxes down the middle.

Braylon slid beneath them, with Tristan charging through them, stammering. With the dreadhead slowing, his hand extending, "The box cutter!" He yelled, with Tristan panicking, digging through his pockets for the requested item.

It slid out, falling and hitting the floor, with Tristan continuing to charge. "Forget it!" He yelled it, passing Braylon, who spun back around, lifting the tool and slashing with it like a weapon, his moves were calculated but random, attempting to strike whatever was pursuing them.

The blade was broken in half, and Braylon's hand began to bubble up, beneath the surface of his skin. He yanked his hand back, turning to see a bunch of piled up boxes, Tristan having forced his way out of the door.

Braylon vaulted over the box, kicking away and sprinting towards the wide open door, the boxes behind him being smashed to the floor. He continued to sprint, with something on his tail, the two getting closer and closer to the exit.

His curiosity got the best of him, glancing back, with an extended frail hand reached out for his face. Behind it was a lengthy figure without feet, it's face curled into an abnormally lengthy frown.

Braylon's eyes widened further, his foot clipping a box on the floor, stumbling over and jetting out the door, Tristan slamming it shut. The boy hit the grass, with his dreads falling over his face, pushing them aside and glancing up at the single pane on the door, the marks of someone's hand being pressed against it.

"I... I told you ghosts were real!!" Braylon yelled, stumbling to his feet, with Tristan gasping, his breath hitching. He then keeled over, his stomach heaved, Braylon patting him on the back. But their quick break was cut short, with a light jolting around the corner.

A security guard rounding to the shed, flinging his flashlight around. "I could've sworn I heard something..." He scoffed, clicking his flashlight off, turning to walk back, before hearing the bolt crack open.

He flicked his flashlight back on, panning it over to the door, slowly approaching. He pulled the door to, stepping inside, aiming it around, before the door slammed shut behind him. The bolt jolted across, letting him know he was now sealed shut.