Symbol of Terror

3.

Staring up at the ceiling got boring after a while for Wade. How long had it been since Mark left him up here? He didn't have his phone with him, just the clothes on his back and a lighter. He took it out of his pocket again, flicking the switch to make sure it still worked. The tiny flame burst forth, a white flicker in the darkening room. It must be getting near evening, he speculated. He shut the lighter off, put it back in his pocket, and stood, sight clouding, and he felt dizzy. Realizing he'd simply sat for too long and stood too fast, he waited until it was over before he paced a few steps. A loud thump issued from downstairs, causing Wade to turn towards the sound.

He debated going to look to see if that was an object or a body, and he eventually decided it was worth the risk. He unlocked the door as quietly as he could and peeked out into the blackened hallway. Trying not to let the door creak too much, he tiptoed out of the room and down the hall. He hid around the corner to the stairs, and not seeing immediate danger, he came to stand at the top step.

A figure wandered noiselessly in front of the bottom of the stairs, Wade catching a glimpse of yellow on their face. He stepped back into the more obscuring shadows, hoping he hadn't been seen.

"Wade, you're at the top of the stairs," Mark said, the yellow disappearing from his face, "Why'd you come out of there? I managed to close my eyes so I won't kill you."

"I-I don't know, I heard something."

"You've got to be kidding me. Well, I can kind of understand, this is a weird situation."

"Are Bob and Aaron okay?"

"They're intact, for the most part," Mark said. Wade cringed at the closing phrase. "Please go back to the room. It's the safest place until tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow?" Wade asked, voice weak.

"Antimonos is deciding not to be homicidal to you from tomorrow on. But you should go back, seriously. I'm preserving you because Aaron and Bob are in more danger than you are right now."

Wade's eyes widened. Danger? Oh man... I hope they aren't hurt badly.

"You should still know that when I'm not looking at you, it's really me speaking to you. You should also know that you mean a lot to me. Please just go to your room."

Wade reluctantly stepped backwards, slowly going into the room he had to lock himself in almost all that afternoon. Locking the door once again, he stayed there. Pressing his ear to the wood, he heard someone coming up the stairs, probably Mark, growling and mumbling to himself. The man came to Wade's door, placing a hand on it.

"Goodnight," he muttered in a pained tone. He walked away and, presumably to Wade, went into another room upstairs, shutting the door loudly behind him. Wade was left speechless and he backed away from the door. Sighing, he went to collapse onto the bed, not caring about the musty smell. Love for his friend tugged at his heart, and he could feel the barely noticeable pang of being on the verge of tears.

He eventually fell into a dreamless sleep, thinking about his friends. He wanted to leave the gray house with all of them safe and sound, but most of all, he wanted to be back with his beloved girlfriend, Molly.

---

In the morning, barely any light seeped into the room through cracks in the boarded up window. Wade still lay on the bed, arm hanging over the edge, in a deep sleep. He couldn't hear the doorknob across the room being struggled with, until someone banged loudly and urgently on the door. He jumped, wary and staring anxiously at the door. Remembering it was locked, he loosened up a little and closed his eyes. He fell asleep again, and soon dreamt he was being pulled off of the edge of a building-- and opened his eyes to a collision with the floor. Mouth and nose clogged with dust, he coughed before he pushed himself to a standing position. The room was brighter, and as he turned he could see Mark's face standing shorter than him, yellow eyes blinking passively.

"Took ya long enough," Mark said, followed by one of those mischievous yet cheerful smirks. Wade was in a minor panic. If he kept looking at him, he was sure he'd be dead.

"Why are you staring at me?" Wade said fearfully.

"Did you even listen to Mark-- we-- us-- No!" He smacked his forehead, frustrated and trembling. Composing himself, he sighed. Wade was confused but soon recalled what Mark said yesterday.

"Nevermind..."

"Okay, good... Come downstairs," he walked out swiftly, Wade trailing behind.

"What time is it?" Wade yawned. Mark absently pointed to a clock on the wall, and Wade nodded towards it, then realized it had no hands. He bemusedly looked at the peculiar device, pausing his movement, until Mark dragged him to the kitchen area. "This house is so old, is there even any food in here?"

"Beats me," he said, going to sit on the counter. He glanced at the old knife block, grabbed one of the rotted handles and pulled, slightly rusted blade glinting in the light. "Does this make you uncomfortable?"

"What would make me uncomfortable?"

"Do you feel threatened."

Wade had to process this blunt statement for a moment.

"Uh, no..?" he said as Mark kept his blank stare, "Is that what I should say?"

"No clue, I don't know how your brain works. Why would you ask me that?"

"You're holding a rusty knife and asking me weird questions, I'm concerned, but I don't feel like my life is in a whole lot of danger."

Mark turned the knife over in his hand, looking downward. Wade noticed a light, cool breeze drifting in from the half-boarded window, distracting his senses for a moment.

"Interesting response," Mark said, jumping down and walking to Wade. He stood in front of him, looking up at his face, dropping the knife with a clatter. "Wanna go see how Bob and Aaron are doing?"

"Um, sure," he said, pausing in between the words. Mark gestured him to come along, and he led him through the living room, past the stairs, and into the hallway. Reaching the first door, they stopped abruptly. Mark cut in front of Wade, facing away from the door but grabbing the handle. He looked at his taller companion with a slightly lowered face, grinning and chuckling deviously, yellow eyes prominent in the dark atmosphere. The handle clicked and he used the rest of his body to force the door open to a larger area, caked in black, tentacle-like masses towards the back of the room and spread halfway across it. Wade suspected that these were the two rooms Bob and Aaron were in, just merged into one by the spidery amalgam. He had already entered the room, lit by two industrial-type lights, deep in astonished examination.

"Fun, huh?" Mark said, giggling immaturely. Wade looked around, barely breathing and feeling slightly claustrophobic by the nearly all-surrounding darkness. A muffled cry and a squelching issued from the wall across from the two, startling Wade but pressing him to find out what it was. As he approached, he dared not step on the edge of the fleshy mass, but waited for something. He didn't know what, but there was something there. Several tentacles let up and spread away from a face, a bearded face that opened a pair of almost-dead-looking dark eyes, some of the black tendrils inserted under its skin like veins.

"Wade..." they breathed. He gaped and stepped back a little, turning his head to see Mark grinning the most horrifying, vile, childlike smile he had ever seen, blank yellow eyes boring into him ominously.