I Survived A Horror Story

Prologue

 The eerie glow of the computer screen lit up the room, his startling blue eyes fixated on the image of a car driving up to the house. Her house. His lips twitched as he clicked on the mouse rapidly, zooming in on the car. Dragging the image around, he stopped when he saw the face of the driver. And smiled.

The chair creaked as he leaned back and stretched his arms over his head. Worn out bones cracked and popped but he paid no mind, rubbing a finger thoughtfully over a scar that had lasted him years of his life. Would she let them in? He watched as the doors of the car opened and four boys poured out, their feet dropping onto the pavement. They gazed around, knocking into each other and speaking in animated tones. He couldn't hear them, his cameras didn't pick up sound, but they didn't exactly look quiet either. She would know already then, that people had come.

Would she let them in?

Yes. The door of the house swung open easily, at the hands of a slight, chestnut haired boy who wavered at the doorstep. He glanced behind him, and stepped in only when another - taller, blonder, and more spirited boy - bumped into him. The small group of boys disappeared into the house, save one who held back. Tall and broad, he was looking over his shoulder at the car that drove away, and then suddenly right at the camera.

The man in front of the computer leaned forward with interest, studying the face of the young boy. Dark curls accentuated dark eyes as the boy frowned, his eyes passing over the camera, but not seeing. Then he sighed and vanished into the house as well, the moment passing. The man's smile grew as he tapped the screen of his computer and stared at the empty, open doorway. "Danielle," he crooned, "Sweet sweet Danielle."

And, as if she heard him, the door swung shut slowly, on its own accord.

The man's finger lingered on the screen, and his lips pulled down into a scowl. Pulling away from the computer, he grabbed onto the mouse and yanked it around, jabbing and clicking. The images switched rapidly, flipping between various viewpoints, both outside and inside the house.

Closed door. Empty staircase. Empty kitchen. Empty bedroom.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Where was she? He growled, his hands shaking as he let go of the mouse. And then, across the screen, were the four boys, passing by the unseen camera as they neared the staircase.

His hands stilled, and he was smiling once more.