Town of Limbo Chapter One: Mo(u)rning

It's a horror story meant to specifically appeal to teenagers. It takes place in an uncanny, paranormal town with powerful entities at work. Indeed, all is not well in Mortorville

Mo(u)rning

 

Walter Ira staggers into the house after an 8 mile run: hardly a workout. He doesn’t bother closing the door, but turns and shoots his failed assailants a glare that silences their shrieking. Then, his glare transforms into a smirk as he watches the three pitifully scramble away, trying not to trip over each other, one of them clutching an arm Walter knows he snapped. Walter walks up to his mirror cabinet trying not to get blood on the carpet. He pulls out a first aid kit, removes his damp tracksuit top, and examines the knife wounds in the mirror. Shoulder and arm. He scoffs at his own weakness, wraps himself up, and sighs.

The sun, that fiery ball of hell is already starting to crack through the dark dome of silence he takes solace in. Soon the birds will awake with all their chirp chirping, then the people will be next. And his neighbours do plenty of chirping themselves. Parents will be packing their children's lunch boxes, giving them kisses on the cheek, and filling their heads with lies. Meanwhile Walter bitterly accepts silence. He has no child to lie to, not anymore. Not since he moved out on his own, away from his parents and his sister Emily. Away from the weakness of his family. But that's good, he thinks.The silence makes his stronger. So do the underground fights he makes his livelihood from. He’s safer this way. He’ll get stronger now that he’s away from that little blonde demon. If only his neighbours could be so lucky, as to be able to mourn the death of silence. He is a creature of the night. He feeds there, he runs there, he fights there, he hides there.

But then morning comes, and there's nowhere left to hide, so as he put on a T shirt, and a football Jersey over that, he is disgusted to find himself shaking. He wills himself still and eyes himself in the mirror. He still looks good. No. He looks perfect. He’s probably going to get into trouble since he’s only supposed to wear it during games, but he needs something to hide the wounds. He makes some oatmeal, grabs yesterday's paper and he's out the door before anyone else in the neighbourhood has even opened their eyes, except for some obnoxious lunatic, dashing so quickly to the cemetery that Walter can’t even make out he he is. He doesn’t care.

He chooses to ignore it and takes a look at the paper: ANOTHER CHILD MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEARS

Walter grins. Not so chirpy anymore, now are we?

 

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Author's Note

Any criticism welcome and appreciated.

Reviews

[Zoya]

Mhm, very well laid out. Suspense builds up at each line...Would soon read the next chapter.