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Bits and pieces of prose and poetry entered in contests for the I Write contests. |
| The guys stood on the steps, their equipment heavy The house before them began to belch and grumble. It swayed on its foundation. "This one sounds sick." Ray whispered as he looked first at Egon and then to Peter. Egon adjusted his pack and nodded solemnly. "Hmmp...." Peter shrugged it off, "Sooner we deal with it, the sooner this house can heal." "I don't think houses can really heal..." Egon began in his calm logic. "Doesn't matter. We got a job to do. Let's make this ghost dance." Peter winked over at them. Ray gave a quick nod of agreement and readied himself. "On three." He said and began counting... "Wait, do we go on three or is it 1-2-3 then go?" Egon wanted to know. "1-2-3 then go." Ray told him. Egon nodded. Ray began to count again and just as he said "3" Peter surged forth, throwing the door back with a resounding crash. His head held up, gun at the ready and his war cry ripping through the house's grumbles as he charged in. Egon and Ray hesitated then lunged after him. "Remember not to cross the strains." Egon reminded them as he charged in beside Ray. They stood in the front foyer and listened. The sound seemed to reverberate throughout the whole house. "We're going to have to split up." Ray told them. "I'll take the basement." Peter called out as he moved towards the basement door. "I'll go up." Ray told Egon who nodded as he headed for the back of the house. "Ah guys, you may want to come down..." Before he had even finished his sentence Ray and Egon were on his heels. The sight before them stopped them in their tracks. The furnace was glowing. An iridescent blue radiated out from the bowels of the old oil furnace. It seemed to be dancing on the grey cement floor. "Oh, this is bad." Ray whispered. "Metaphysically bad." Egon whispered. "We need a plan... and fast." Peter told them as they watched the iridescent bile begin to flow out of the furnaces great, yawning mouth. It was moving toward them picking up speed as it sensed their presence. "Blasters ready." Ray yelled. "Just don't..." "We know. Don't cross the streams.... or we all blow up, got it. On 3....." Peter took a breath then yelled "3" and all of them fired their blasters at the glowing bile. Egon tossed out the chamber and they dragged the ghost and its screaming cries toward the box. They did not let up until the box closed up and the sounds ceased. Silence prevailed. Ray whipped at his brow. "Well, that went well." Egon approached the box to make sure the ghost was fully enclosed, then smiled over at the guys. "Another one to add to our tank." "Nice work, boys. Now let's get out of here. I have a date with a gorgeous blond...." "Yeah, I'm sure you do." Ray mumbled and Egon smiled. Word Count = 497 Day 9 - Thirteen Days of Halloween ▼   ** Image ID #1855238 Unavailable **   |
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