Out of the Darkness

15

"Sweet," I mused, reaching down and moving the contents of the box in his trunk. He wasn't kidding. There were multiple costumes and accessories in here. "This one," I said, pulling up the mask. "Okay, I'll take this one," he said, pulling up a separate mask, and a red sash. "Are you Zorro or something?" I asked, taking in what he had pulled out. "Yup, how'd you know?" he asked, tying the black face mask behind his head. He was already wearing black jeans, and a long sleeve button up black shirt, so he just unbuttoned it about halfway, then put the red sash around his waist. "Not bad," I replied, laughing. "But where's your cape?" "Right here," he replied, pulling one out of the box." I just shook my head and laughed. "That all your getting?" he asked, pointing to the mask in my hand. I looked down and frowned. "Yeah, I guess. I'm not really in the mood to dress up all that much. I'm already wearing black so this will work." He nodded and slammed the trunk closed. I put the Jig Saw mask on and we followed the crowd inside Tavan's place. The place was packed, faces I recognized and some I didn't taking up every square foot of the living room and kitchen. I saw Tavan and Corey in the cleared out area of large living room, dancing with Chazz and another guy and girl that I didn't know. Brennen and I made ourselves a couple of drinks and stood around talking with some other people we knew who ran in the same circle as we did. The music blasted all around us, and it wasn't long before I needed to go to the bathroom. "I gotta take a piss. I'll be right back," I told Brennen, before making my way past all of the people in the hallway so that I could get to the bathroom door. I did my business then washed my hands in the sink. The distraction of the party had been working amazingly but now, I was alone with my thoughts again and I couldn't get a certain pair of emerald green eyes out of my mind. I was a little tipsy but nowhere near enough to justify thinking about a stupid fucking doll. I looked at my reflection in disgust and shook my head. "You really need to find a girlfriend. This is getting ridiculous. You're thinking about a fucking doll. That's fucked up," I told myself. Obviously, I wasn't having romantic feelings for a damn doll but I couldn't stop thinking about her...it, for some reason. I wanted to know how her eyes looked so damn real and full of emotion. Most dolls had those empty dead eyes, no matter how realistic they looked. That's why I found them so damn creepy. I splashed water on my face and fixed my hair before I walked back out to the party. I went straight to the kitchen to grab another drink, making it stronger than before. I needed to get drunk. After I made my drink, I found a small secluded part of the wall where I could stand off by myself. I enjoyed parties, and could even have a great time, but sometimes, I ended up just standing my myself and being on my phone while everyone around me actually interacted with each other. I had my drink in one hand and my phone in the other. On instinct, I looked up the old house and any disappearances that had been associated with it. Research was nothing new to me, even in a half drunk state of mind. My surroundings disappeared and my mind was focused on nothing but the print on my phone screen. I scrolled past legend after legend, theories about witches inhabiting the now empty house, the torture of young women and some men leaving spirits behind to haunt whoever dared to enter the walls of their home. One of the stories made me read again. It was about the dolls. I saw a black and white picture of the dolls that was dated to have been taken in 1975. It looked almost the same as when we had seen it...only with less dolls. Their black eyes stared back at me, making me feel like they were staring into my soul. I shook my head and tried to read the article. My eyes were starting to blur from staring at my screen so much. I had a sneaking suspicion that I was getting pretty drunk at this point, though I didn't feel it much because I was standing still. The legend read that the house was meant to be torn down several times. Once in 1952, once in 1960, once in 1973, and then again in 1985. Each time the workers would try to do what they had been paid to do, something always stopped them. Some said they heard a low, menacing voice telling them to leave or die. Others said, they ended up in some kind of alternate reality, the house the same, but no one but themselves there. That one made me shiver, as I remembered having that exact feeling myself. An even more disturbing reason that was given was that a black, smoke figure that could only be described as a demon or something that was pure evil, appeared and engulfed everyone in total  darkness. It was said that the workers screamed in terror as they felt like they were being pulled into emptiness, and they even fought each other, kicking and screaming, to get out and away from the house as quick as possible. That shocked me. I had almost gotten myself to believe that what we had seen was just a trick of our eyes, or some kind of reflection causing the image. The black figure was assumed to be the spirit or evil remnants of the witches, or the head witch, that used to live there. The part about the dolls was the last paragraph and it freaked me out maybe worse than the demonic smoke.