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Still haven’t come up with Flash Fiction plan for 2019, so you get this random bit of I-May-Have-Watched-Too-Much-Supernatural-Last-Year.

The smell of must and old hung in the air. An ancient floor board creaked as Molly stepped on it. A chill ran down my spine as her shadow—dark compared to the beam of my flashlight—crawled along the floor.

“Are you sure we should be here?” I asked.

Molly didn’t bother to look over her shoulder. “Do you want to stop these attacks or not, Brian?”

Of course I wanted the attacks to stop. Three people had died and six more lay unresponsive save for eternal screaming in the psych ward of the hospital.

“Why do they always pick these old houses?” I grumbled.

“Because they feel comfortable in broken places.”

Molly had a point.

“Now be quiet,” she said.

I sighed and tightened my grip on the flashlight.

I never should have told Molly that I could see them.

Another creak sounded from the floor. Then the whisper of a breeze went past my ear.

My hand shot and grabbed Molly’s shoulder.

She looked back, a scowl on her face. I pointed to the room on my right. When she saw that her lips formed on ‘O.’

Like all of the others, a cracked wooden door barred our way. The lock had been ripped out years before, yet the door stood closed.

Sweat broke out on my forehead and I licked my lips.

Molly hefted her pistol—full of salt and silver—and jerked her head at the room.

The door bowed out ever so slightly, as if the room were breathing. I lowered my eye to the hole where the lock used to be and gazed inside.

A broken bed sat along one wall, and the remains of a dresser stood opposite. Five translucent people huddled in the far corner of the room—two women, one man and two children. They looked human, but the aura around them spiked black and red.

I glanced back at Molly, who stroked the trigger of her gun, and held up five fingers.

She nodded and motioned for me to get back.

The cold from the room beyond started to seep into the hall, and I pressed myself against the opposite wall.

Molly raised a foot and slammed the bottom against the door. A burst of silver exploded from where she hit, and the door flung open.

“Beyond the bed,” I said.

The ghosts’ eyes narrowed as they looked past Molly to me.

I glared right back and covered my ears.

Molly shot, and a spray of the salt and silver peppered the corner of the room.

The sound of the gun hammered against my brain, and I hated myself for forgetting ear protection. Again.

The man and one of the children got thrown against the wall, where the little pieces of silver kept them from moving or disappearing. Their forms shifted between human and monster, complete with dripping fangs, glowing red eyes and scaly hides.

The other woman surged forward, right into Molly’s second volley of shots.

“Watch the floor,” I yelled.

Molly pulled her other pistol and aimed at the floor in front of her feet. She hit the child.

“One left!” I shouted.

Instead of attacking, the last woman hissed, revealing to rows of teeth, and sunk through the floor.

The four pinned specters flickered in and out of reality, clinging on to their home here in the earth. Molly moved forward with a steel cross.

The little boy on the floor, trying to tug his arm free, wailed as the steel touched his skin. The sound turned into a shriek as she drove the cross into his eye.

Then, like blowing on ash, he disappeared.

“One of them went down.” I pointed.

Molly quickly finished the others, who tried to gnash and bite her, before turning back to me. Her green eyes bore into mine. “Find it.”

I nodded and moved back out into the hall. The cold air bit at my lungs, and all of the hair on my body stood on end. I froze.

Molly walked right into me. “What is it?”

“They’re here,” I whispered. At least ten pairs of glowing red eyes regarded me with hate.

“Here?” Molly asked.

The largest of the bunch, standing just a few feet away, growled.

Molly let out a gasp. “I can see them.”

My hand dropped to my waist, where I’d tucked a crowbar. “We need to get out.”

“Down the back stairs. Follow me.”

Before she could move, the specters flickered, and then turned back into human form.

Humans I knew.

Humans who had been attacked.

A young girl gazed up at me with fear in her eyes. “Why are you killing us, brother?”

“She’s not real,” Molly said through gritted teeth. I felt her shoulder bump mine as we ended up back to back.

The girl stepped forward. “Join us.”

I shook my head.

A voice sounded from behind me. A woman. My friend. My lover. My life. “Kill her and join us.”

“They’re not real,” Molly said again.

I blinked to clear my vision, and a tear ran down my cheek. “I brought her, like you asked.”

“What did you do?” Molly asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Molly yelled and fired.

I fell to my knees.

The little girl’s aura brushed mine. “Thank you, brother.”

I shivered as cold gripped me. Molly continued to fight, but I followed the cold.



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