Leave the light on

This was made as a compaction with a friend. Sadly he was way too lazy to write as fast as I did, so I decided to publish mine now anyway. It is my first story in English and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t shitty writing English. Luckily I had a couple of friends willing to play the part as my Editors. For that I thank you. Now, it would be the best if I said what the story is about, but I really want it to be a surprise, so instead I want to tell you more about the inspiration. I built this on inspiration from several games, movies and mangas, such as Another (manga), American Horror Story (serie) and Black box tv on youtube. I want people to think and to feel twisted/scared. And I want feedback, which you can give me here or in a email: jullemus_a@hotmail.com. Oh, and by the way. This story is set to Green in age rating, because I think that the reading of my story is on the readers responsability.
- Sorry for my broken english ...


1. Candle

The door opened soundlessly, letting a stribe of light in. In a flash it was broken and strangled. A pair of feet was moving on the stairs. The friction between the clothing made the only sound, besides from the heels of the girl’s shoes. It was rather tense to walk in such a silence. One of the people began to hum slowly. It was an old summer hymn, but it was barely recognizable. The other person let out a sigh, stepping off of the stairs and taking the first steps on to the floor. Her feet made a loud echo, soon followed by the sound of the other people.

“What are we doing here?”

The second person hurried after the first, making the tense echoes even louder.

“You know that already.” The first person answered, with a smooth voice, laughing.


“You have the dreams too, right? About dying? About getting killed?” The first person stopped up so suddenly, that the second bumped into her friends back. She fell to the floor with a gasp and let out a yelp with her whimsy voice, followed by a sad sobbing. The first person turned around, holding her hands in the darkness of the basement.

“You are such a princess, soft and fragile like a fucking butterfly! Why people like you, I really don’t get.”

The second girl shifted her sobs to a surprised gasp, right before her delicate face got struck by the first girl’s foot. Her body feel back, hitting the floor, making the same dumb sound as a rubber ball against a brick wall. The first girl laughed with the same smooth voice as before, after which she flipped a switch, turning on the only lamp in the basement.

The first girl’s black hair seemed to grow into the darkness, like she was a part of it and it of her. Her skin was now glowing in the dim and pale light, causing her hollow cheeks to create deep shadows, which moved upwards to her eyes. The other girl desperately crawled back on the floor. Her face turned red like her hair while her eyes widened in terror. The grinning girl reached up, touching the lamp screen lightly with the tip of her index finger, and setting it into motion.

It swung and swung, like a pulse or a heartbeat. The redheaded girl, in her sudden terror, clumsily pushed herself from the floor and took off in a sprint, as fast as her shaking legs would allow her to.

She was going for the stairs, but found it suddenly sealed off by long thick threads, like black hair or silk. It was almost impossible to break and as she touched it, it was like running her fingers over a thousand sharp knives. Tiny red drops, originating from the deep cuts, formed on the very tips of her fingers. Staring at her bloodied fingers, she only felt the other girl’s terrifying presence behind her, before hearing the bone-chilling voice.

"Come on! Come out! Don't you want to play?" She taunted with her wicked laugh.

The red-haired girl could hear the delicate, yet disturbing, footsteps as she moved away from the stairs. She knew the black-haired girl was there. There wasn't any room in her head for thoughts anymore, just nameless, all-consuming dread.

The footsteps stopped. Then there was another giggle, close by.

"I can see you..."

She felt like she was being suffocated by panic. Her head was consumed by that panicking indecision when her mind flies from option to option, wondering if she should do something? If she could do something? If she messed up somewhere? Was this her fault?

Suddenly a single thought began to grow in her mind: “It is just another nightmare.” She repeated it in a low and rasping whisper. The redheaded girl ran behind the stairs, in a desperate search for the backdoor, which would lead her out to an outside and underground crypt of the school’s basement. The crypt was built as an escape during the world wars, but had never been used.

“You have the same thought as me, don’t you? I’ve been having these weird thoughts lately. Like is any of this for real? Or is it just another dream of mine? Or rather a nightmare of mine. I can’t tell the difference anymore.”

Something sharp with a shiny blade cut through the light. The redhead tried in a panic to find the doorknob, but could only find the hole where it belonged. She let out a frustrated cry, sliding her hands down the door and turning against her tormenter. Where was she?  The darkness was consuming everywhere and everything. A new and more frightening laughter broke it. Something shiny was rolled over the floor, ending its journey at the redhead’s feet. It was the round doorknob.

“You wouldn’t believe me, if I told you that this event is fate and that I can’t change it. In fact it has all happened before, just interrupted by others. That is why we have our nightmares, because we have seen it and experienced it all before, but I promise you, this will be the last time.” 


Right then, something sharp and cold penetrated her shoulder, pinning her to the wall. The thin blade was barely visible, but the shaft was pointing out of her body. Bobbles of warm and red blood were forming on her shirt, dripping down her chest and stomach. The wound hurt, paralyzing her against the wall, as a defenseless ragdoll, but it didn’t kill her, nor was it meant to.

A short moment she felt happiness, but the pale, almost skeletal, wrapped their bony fingers around her neck. The lifeless fingers were strong, even though their owner looked ill. She could feel the moist palms, soaked by sweat and the breath of the owner, pained by exhaustion, but the fingers were still choking the life from her.

The air in her lungs was burning, screaming even; begging to be replaced by new air, but nothing got in or out, nothing was allowed past the skeletal fingers. Her shaking hands were fumbling in the dark, but finally found her adversary’s shoulders. She gathered what little strength she had left and pushed. It didn’t help anything, except for making the cold blade slide deeper. From the loss of air and the excruciating pain from her shoulder, she slowly, but surely, gave up the fight.

The cold and soulless eyes of the black haired girl, watched with glee as the will to live left her victim, and the emotion left her eyes. Voided of all emotion, the eyes turned white and glassy.

The black haired girl stepped back into the darkness, laughing to herself. Her body shook with a mixture of nameless emotions, leaving her to scream her maniacal laughter out into the cold dark room.

She took a firm hold of her knife and pulled it from the dead girl’s chest, making the corpse fall to the ground with a small thud.

From the lips of the dead girl, a mixture of blood and stomach fluids were leaking onto the cold floor. It smelled disgusting, like the corpse was already starting to rot and decompose.

She was suddenly overtaken with fear, terror and the urge to vomit. She watched the corpse, just lying in its own bile.

Only faintly does she realize that it was indeed her doing, her work, her revenge.

She didn’t really notice that the blade was turning against her now. Nor did she notice when the razor-sharp steel cut her throat. The thick fountain blood was almost spraying out of her neck at first, before turning into a waterfall of red water.

She softly placed her own fragile body away from the corpse; the milky eyes seemed to follow her. Like it had a mind of its own, the blade started to thrust itself against the veins on her wrist, not stopping till it broke through.

She repeated the procedure on the other hand till the blood was flowing from both of her wrists. She was dying with her anger and thoughts of revenge, but also with a twisted hope.

She wished to see her loved one’s more, knowing that all her doings would be forgiven in the sweet embrace of his arms. Her body grew stiff. Her shaking hand was moving the hungry blade against her thigh, cutting delicate lines in the pale flesh, while bleeding out.

The heartbeat was so slow that she could count it out loud with her raspy voice “One, two, six, eleven, twenty…”

It had stopped. Finally all the suffering had ended, unless she was going to hell of course. But she was still there. Why was she still there?

The body, the dead body of the dead girl, was moving. The joints were loose and the body was moving like a puppet, still attached to its strings, stiff and weird. The wounds were not bleeding anymore, but dripping with rot. How long had they been there? Could she also move? The body of the other girl moved closer.

“This … This is your punishment.” She said, with hoarse and inhuman voice. 

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