Not the Ordinary Type //Frerard/Peterick/Ryden/Petekey

One

Ryan Ross walked down the road on a dark, windy October evening. He could see his breath steaming in the cold air.

He was making his weekly visit to the local open mic night to perform a few of his songs.

His was guitar strapped to back, and the heels of his boots clicked against the cobblestones as he walked.

The dim street lights seemed to buzz and flicker a few times as he passed under them.

He had the unnerving feeling that he was being followed, but every time he turned around to look, there was only darkness.

But, he looked again when he heard a strange rustling noise which seemed to come from a stand of trees. He thought he could see something move, but maybe it was just the shadows or his eyes playing tricks on him. He took a sharp intake of breath and looked harder at the trees, but nothing else moved. He told himself he was just imagining things

Ryan walked on, thinking about the song he would be performing in a few minutes at open mic night. He reached the venue and put his hand out to open the door, but suddenly, he felt a strange unease that made him stop in his tracks.

He shook his head and pulled hard on the door handle, letting himself into the venue, where his two friends were waiting for him in the doorway.

"Oh... hey Patrick, hey Frank," he greeted quietly.

"Ryan, you look like you've seen a ghost," said Patrick.

"Yeah, I thought I saw something and I was a bit freaked out but it was only branches moving."

"It's really windy tonight, kinda spooky," Frank laughed nervously. "Patrick had to hold onto his hat the whole way here."

Ryan laughed slightly while Patrick sighed and shook his head at Frank.

"We should go in now," he said. "It's starting soon and you're up first, Ryan."

The three of them went through to the backstage area to wait their turn to go on stage.

Ryan was just about to go and play his first song while Patrick and Frank were watched from the side.

Suddenly, Patrick felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned sharply to see who it was.

A figure shrouded in shadow stood in a doorway a few metres away.

Patrick couldn't clearly make out his face but he was dressed all in black and seemed to be beckoning him over.

He felt compelled to approach the stranger, but just as he reached him, he slipped out into the corridor.

Patrick followed, slightly timidly.

There were shadows along the wall, that seemed to be bouncing with every step he took.

It was kind of unnerving; because Patrick could not work out what exactly was causing them.

He crept down the hallway, nervous of what awaited him at the end.

He reached the door at the end of the corridor and noticed that it was slightly ajar.

Patrick took a deep breath and pushed it open. It creaked loudly, causing him to jump slightly.

He composed himself, but he wasn't entirely sure why he was following the mysterious man in the first place. It was probably because he was curious; Patrick had to know why the man had grabbed his attention and then fled. Or maybe he hadn't even fled. Maybe it was more like he'd wanted Patrick to follow him.