Bad Luck

A Chapter by LoperForLife

Bad luck seems to have followed me throughout my life. The fire, bad family life, and an assorted group of other things.. Yeah bad luck. Now I suppose it's also bad luck that my family decided to find refuge with the family of my killer.

His family had bailed him out of prison when he got caught. So when my family wandered into the mansion-like holding of nameless' house, they didn't know they were walking into a ticking time bomb. In their defense, the family seemed relatively normal, if a bit wealthy.

Luckily, none of them suffered the same fate as me. And for that, I'm grateful.

But I still needed to kill him before he killed someone else. You can say I'm headed for Hell, but he's going to be drug right behind me into that firey inferno.

I suppose you can say I wouldn't mind if he felt those flames eating him up like they did me. So I started dropping signs around my family. Call it creepy, but I didn't mind sending them some messages from the great beyond.

The first one was to my mother. I found that I couldn't really communicate well with people on the other side, but if I focused I was able to leave a word or two behind without completely exhausting and frustrating me.

I guess the message I left her was a bit gory and a bit much. I mean, I didn't mean for the world "Leave" scrawled across her mirror to be written in dried blood. I really just wanted to get the point across, you know?

She ran screaming from the room, so I then tried erasing the message before rest of the family barged into the guest bathroom. Then on, she was deemed "crazy". I thought my mother would understand that it was me, but every time I was near she shivered like crazy, rambled on about spirits and cold spots, and faces in the dark. It's not my fault I'm translucent in the dark! So I left her alone.

My sisters were no use, so I went on to my brother, John.

He was the one who started understanding the signals, such as candles suddenly lighting, an arrow pointing towards my killer's bedroom on the wall, and death scrawled across a paper or two. Unfortunately, as he started piecing it together, nameless also started piecing that together. Two puzzles unsolved.

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