Let's Make a Trade

#FillTheFear

Robert, one of the Shadyside High Kids who arrived earlier, snuck behind Veronica and grabbed a fireplace poker that was beside her. He carefully hid the fireplace poker behind his leg, and then leaned closer to her. “Don't panic,” he whispered. “I have a plan.”

      “If you think it would be as simple as having one of you killed,” Alyson followed, grinning menacingly. “You're sorely mistaken.”

        “You're crazy,” Marty interrupted, as he jangled the jammed knob. “Come on Jill, V.”

        “No, wait,” Carrie, one of the three who arrived earlier, pleaded. “Alyson, please. You can't do this. You've got to let us go.”

        Jillian walked towards Robert and helped him loosen the knob. Her eyes began to well up, as her silent sobbing was on the brink of bursting. “If this is your idea of a joke, it isn't funny!”

        Dylan, one of the other three, waved up his arms and laughed. “What are you gonna do? There are six of us and only one of you. How about we trade your life for your sister? Does that sound fair?”

        “Dylan, please,” Carrie retorted. “This isn't helping. Alyson, we know you're hurting, but this isn't the solution. Taking one life for another is––”

        “Forget this!” Dylan shouted, throwing a candle at Alyson. “We're not going to be part of your game!”

        Alyson skittered back into the shadows, then burst into a creeping shade which extinguished the candle light and enveloped the whole house in darkness. The windows and doors flung open, causing the teenagers to scamper in every direction.

        “Wait!” Jillian begged, stopping Marty halfway out the shabby house. “We have to go back for V.”

        Marty's eyes widened in anger, as he dragged Jillian forcefully by her wrist. “There's no time! She'll find her way out.”

        “I'm not leaving her,” Jillian reiterated. “Veronica! V!”

        “Try as you may, you can never escape,” Alyson's chilling voice reverberated through the air, directionless and unshakeable. “One of you has to die before the sun rises, or else everyone dies.”

        Panting heavily, Marty and Jillian eventually made their way to their car. Marty tried to start the car, but to no avail. Jillian began to break down in the passenger seat. Their narrow escape was a shallow victory that came with lasting consequences. From a distance, they could see the creeping shade enveloping the entire house.

        Suddenly, a face appeared from out of nowhere, just outside Marty's window. The pair screamed. It took some time for them to recognize the unexpected surprise. It was Dylan.

        “Let me in,” Dylan begged, knocking heavily on the car window. “Open the door!”

        Marty hesitated for a second, but eventually gave in to the request. He and Dylan had played for the same football team for two years now but neither made an effort to extend their friendship outside of the field.

        “W-what the h-hell was that?” Dylan stammered, still trying to catch his breath.

        “I don't know,” Marty gasped, trying to make sense of everything that transpired. He paused for a bit to gather some semblance of coherence. “I––”

        “You were the one who thought it was a good idea to throw a candle at the crazy lady,” Jillian blamed Dylan. “What? Did you think she would just burst into flames and then we'd ride off into the sunset?”

        “Sunrise,” Dylan replied, in an almost snarky tone.

         “What?”

         “I said, Sunrise. It's nighttime, so technically––”

         “Gah! Don't make me come back there and kick your ass!”

         “Shut up, both of you,” Marty interjected, still trying unsuccessfully to start the car. “I'm trying to focus. Hey, where's that girl you're with? Karen?”

        “Carrie? I don't know. When it went dark, I just aimed for the outside. The first mistake people in horror movies do is go deeper into the haunted house.”

        “Typical,” Jillian commented.

        “At least I'm alive,” Dylan replied. “Have you tried choking the accelerator?”

        “Battery's dead,” Marty remarked sullenly. “Looks like we have to make a run for it.”

        “Are you insane?” Jillian exclaimed. “You heard what she said, nowhere to run off to for miles.”

        “I'm going to have to take her side for this one,” Dylan followed, scratching his head in dismay.

        “Yeah, well,” Marty said. “What do you propose to do? Just stay here and hope to not get killed?”

        Elsewhere, inside the darkened house, Veronica and Robert found themselves in a damp cellar. They barricaded the door with anything they could find, as soon as they arrived. Adjusting slowly to the darkness, the pair took refuge at opposite corners of the room. Veronica curled into a ball while Robert stood in attention, his eyes fixed firmly on the door.

        The cold air crept up their skin while a foreboding dread hung menacingly over their heads. The hallways echoed a vile, ungodly shriek that seemed to emanate from the walls. The wooden floors creaked, and the wind from the outside caused a kind of whistling noise as it seeped through the cracks.

        “What are we going to do?” Veronica asked, trying to calm herself.

        “What else can we do? Just survive, I guess.”

        “I knew this was a bad idea. I couldn't believe Jill talked me into this!”

        Robert stared at her silently, letting out a tired smile, as if to comfort her. Veronica looked back and returned the gesture. He scrunched up his nose and gripped on the fireplace poker tightly.

        Back at the car, the trio were preparing to perform a rescue. Armed with nothing but a tire iron, they treaded stealthily back into the house.

        “So,” Marty reiterated. “In and out as quickly as possible. Get V, Carrie and, what was the name of your other friend?”

        “Other friend?” Dylan asked, perplexed. “What other friend?”

        “The other guy you're with,” Marty followed, nervously. “The tall one.”

        “I-I don't know who the hell that guy is.”

        Marty and Jillian's eyes widened, panicking silently as they ran back into the house.