The girl grinned as she leaned over her laptop, wide framed glasses slipping forward on her nose. The screen lit up her face in the dark, her fingers flying across the keys. The quiet tapping of her nails was unheard under the layer of mellow rock music. Christmas lights strung around the room were the only other source of light.
She was laying down a story that she thought had come from her head. A story about ghost girls that killed and joined more to their ranks. Ghosts girls that had glowing blue eyes. Ghosts girls that were rarely older than 14. Ghosts girls that were an unknown.
She shivered as she felt a breath on her shoulder.
Her brown eyes left the screen as she reached over to turn the radio off. She looked behind her, spinning in her red chair, her pajama pants scuffing the black carpet.
She stayed silent as she usually did as she was writing, with an explanation that it broke her train of thought.
Two of the blue Christmas lights glowed brighter than usual, catching her eye.
The face a 13 year old girl emerged and she stepped forward, her head tilting.
The writer gasped, her eyes flicking toward her laptop screen.
"Don't run. Come play." another voice came from the opposite side of the room.
The writer turned in the direction to see another glowing-eyed girl, this one younger.
"I can help. Don't run." A third voice came from the writer's bed.
The writer stared in awe and fear, her writing coming to life.
A girl of about five materialized in front of the writer, her hair in perfect curls and her pink, ruffled dress spotless.
"You know." She stated simply, unlike the other Nameless who rarely uttered anything other than their lines.
"How?" the writer pleaded, wondering how she knew about the league of ghosts.
"You know. You will join." The girl stretched her hand out, the other three standing behind her, holding hands.
The writer looked at the three other Nameless. One was a elder, one was a middle and one was a little.
"When will I die?" the writer asked. In her stories, she wrote that a girl could only be joined if she just died or was about to die. Last she checked, her heart was beating.
"Soon. You will be one of the Council." The girl said, stepping closer.
"Council?" the writer frowned.
"We choose who joins our ranks, who moves on, and who dies." The three girls chanted.
"You will be one of us." The little girl in pink insisted.
The writer slowly placed her hand in the girl's.
She winced, expecting screams, but the world was silent.
"Joined." Was the last she heard from the Nameless.
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Years went by, the writer expecting her death. When she was twenty-two, her best friend was driving them to the beach. They were hit by a fuel truck. The writer died.
She was brought back as the oldest Nameless out there. It surprised the Council, so they shunned her.
She never forgave them.
___________________________
"Don't run. I'll give you revenge." Two bright red eyes flashed, illuminating the face of Revenge.
YOU ARE READING
Nameless
Paranormal"Don't run. Come play." If you ever hear this, stay completely still. One move could mean your life when facing the Nameless.
