Inktober 2019 @NotHeere

Day 3: Bait

When my friends said they only needed me to be their camera man, I was a tad bit skeptical. They've been raving about this "haunted house" for weeks now, and two days before their expedition, their usual guy called in sick.
Of course I had to agree to help out.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Now I'm stuck here in this cold ass building that looks like it's going to fall apart. At. Fucking. Midnight.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
We've been poking around for what feels like hours. Oh wait. It has been. Fanfuckingtastic.
At this point everyone has pretty much given up.
"I don't know guys, I think we should just call it," one of the guys calls from behind me.
"Yeah, there's nothing here. What a waste."
I let out a sigh of relief as I begin packing up the cameras.
"Hey guys...where's Jake?"
I glance up as everyone else begins to notice the absence of our quiet friend.
Fuck.

~~~

Yay. Now I'm alone in the shitty ass house. I don't want to be here.
I sigh and shuffle around the rooms, shining a flashlight through the door before moving on.
It's well into 1 by now, and the chilling freeze doesn't seem to be letting up any time soon.
I make my way through the twisting corridors into room after room.
It's an old Victorian mansion in the middle of a thicket of trees near our hometown. Someone happened to stumble upon it. There's no history of the building except an old wives tale about a jealous wife who murdered her entire family.
I shuffle into the last room in the hall. It looks like the master bedroom. A massive window on the opposite wall lets in the moonlight. On my right, a figure stands frozen, eyes widened in shock, staring at said window.
"J-Jake?" My teeth chatter in the cold. When did it get so cold?
He doesn't respond, still staring out at the window.
I move to wave my hand in front of his face.
"Jake? C'mon man, everyone's looking for you."
Again, no response.
"Seriously man, what are you even looking a-"
I sweep my eyes to glance in the direction he's staring when I see it. Someone else is in the room.
She's standing in front of the window, her pale dress in sharp contrast with her dark hair. The moon illuminates her petite figure, her face shrouded in darkness.
Oh
Fuck
No.
Her lips curl into a sweet smile, her arms outstretched, beckoning me forward.
Oh
Fuck
NO.
I try to turn away to run, to scream, but my body refuses to respond. Her sweet smile seems sinister as her lips quirk down for a moment. That's when I notice it. Her shadow. Dark and twisted it seems to squeeze the breath out of my lungs. Her hair is matted with long bony fingers and sharp jutted angles. My intestines clench as it begins to move.
The figure stands perfectly still as her shadow seems to contort and stretch forwards me. Curling up my legs and squeezing the little warmth I had left out of my body. It feels like old leather curling up around me. Sharp edges digging into my skin and tugging at my limbs.
I feel the sickening hands curl around my throat squeezing and squeezing but I can't make a sound.
My lungs scream in protest but my legs refuse to run. It feels like millions of hands are holding me in place.
I can't move.
My last thoughts drift to my girlfriend, out searching for Jake with the rest of them. I hope she had enough common sense to run.

~~~~~~~~

Three weeks later:
A news report flashes on screen. The reporter is speaking as a crying woman yells in the background.
"The three week long search for teens Jake Marrow and Evan Willows has just ended. They were in a group of friends exploring what they say was an old manor in the middle of the woods. The rest of the woods have been searched, but no trace of the bodies or the supposed manor have been found. The police are baffled by this turn of events, and have released a statement claiming that even though all the friends have been put through multiple lying tests, they are now suspects in the murder of these two boys. The police have decided to call off continuing search parties. All the friends still hold to the story that they were exploring the manor, but it still remains a mystery of what truly happened that night."