Paranoid

3

Ten minutes pass by as we sit on the living room floor, shaking with anxiety and trying to figure out what to do next. Neither of us speak. Denzel reaches for my hand, and I grab it immediately. His shaking fingers interlock with mine, and I feel just a bit better. At least I wasn't alone. At least he could see what I saw. At least I wasn't completely mad.
“Ariel?” he whispers. It was the first word spoken in what felt like forever.
“Yeah?” I respond, trying to sound less scared than I really am.
“Am I crazy now?” his voice audibly shakes. He's not trying to hide his fear. I turn my head and look up at him. His face is completely drained of colour, and his eyes are still as wide as dinner plates. He looks terrified and unsure. It was crazy to see the boy that I'd known to be strong and in control for so many years of our lives look so vulnerable.
“No,” I say. I want to comfort him, but I don't know what else to say. I'm a diagnosed crazy person. Knowing that I saw what he saw doesn't give him any relief. If anything, it's probably making him question his own sanity even more.  “I think something is wrong with this house. I know that my sanity isn't necessarily solid, but yours is. You couldn't have gone mad in only a few hours. Denzel, we can't ignore this. We need to find out what that thing is.”
“What? No, I think we could just leave. Your stuff isn't here yet. Call the moving people and tell  them to bring your stuff to my house instead. Just forget this place. It's dangerous. And I don't want you to get hurt,” he argues, turning to look at me directly.
“It's storming out there. Badly. This isn't a good time to drive.”
“Okay then, we'll leave first thing in the morning.”
“Shouldn't we tell someone what we saw?”
Denzel's mouth opens, and then closes again. I notice his gaze shift to the doorway behind me. His eyes flicker with fear, and my stomach tightens. There was only one thing this sudden mood change could have met. The thing we saw earlier was back.
“Run,” he whispers. He jumps to his feet and jerks me to a standing position by my shirt. Without letting go of me, he runs through the doorway that leads to the main entrance and begins scrambling up the stairs, dragging me behind him. I struggle to get onto my feet, but my legs won't cooperate. The only thing I can feel is the thumping of my heart. It beats so fast that my chest begins to hurt. I can hear a horrible, low moan from behind me. Denzel glances over his shoulder and panic tightens his features. He half-carry half-drags me down the hallway and throws me into the bathroom. I fall onto the tile floor, hard. Denzel is only two steps into the bathroom when two long, thin, charred arms wrap themselves around his waist. He screams, the sound echoing off the walls. I try to get to my feet, but all I can do is fall forward onto my hands and watch as he fights for his life. The thing begins pulling him backwards, but he grabs onto the door frame. His knuckles turn white, and he looks into my eyes. He's screaming at me to get back, but his voice sounds far away.
“Ariel close the door!” he yells. His fingers slip off of the frame, and he's dragged down the hallway. Suddenly, my legs begin to work. I stumble to my feet and stagger down the hallway as fast as I can. The thing pulls him around the corner, towards the attic door. I open my mouth to yell, but nothing happens. My voice won't cooperate. The attic door flies open just as I manage to grab one of Denzel's hands. I hold tightly and pull, digging my heels into the ground. Hot tears roll down my cheeks. This is a fight I won't win. Whatever the hell that thing is, it's much stronger than me. I slide forward, and Denzel begs me to let go of him. I can hear the thing cackling- a god awful sound. I catch sight of its horrible face from behind Denzel's shoulder. Its long, twisted mouth is curled up slightly at the sides, as if attempting a smile. Rage bubbles up inside of me, and I scream, using every last bit of strength left inside of me to pull Denzel back. My hands slip, and I fall backwards, slamming my head onto the wooden floor.
Then Denzel is gone, and the attic door is slammed shut. I crawl forward and try to open the door. It's locked. I bang on the door, throwing my whole body against it repeatedly until my shoulders are numb and all I can do is slide to the floor and sob.
There's a chance he's still alive. And I have to save him before time runs out.

A/N:
Short chapters ftw. Also not edited.
Sorry I went days without updating.
And also sorry I wrote this in like 20 minutes.
Sorry I'm such a sorry excuse for an author lmfao #whoops
Thanks for reading tho xD