Gothic Invasion

Tongue-in-cheek, this story is a genre mash up involving star-crossed lovers. The bold words are those assigned by us members of the Warsaw Writer's Group.

                It was an unilluminated and tempestuous nocturnal period.

 Despite the truly ominous sight, the pair of impulsive and self-perceived invincible teenagers did not deliberate one iota against heading toward the eerie old Second Empire mansion located on an isolated, weed-infested knoll. In an apparent involuntary response, they ran toward the spooky house to escape the inclement meteorological conditions encompassing a deleterious mix of blustery winds, driving rain and sleet, stiletto-like lightning bolts that sliced the heavy, roiling overcast all accompanied by the anticipated yet startling clamorous claps of thunder. Undoubtedly, the quandary they faced put the intimidating creepy mansion that would provide them shelter versus the increasingly foul weather that they needed to evade. Notwithstanding the menace that the old, sinister ostensibly haunted house presented, they sprinted up the rain-slicked hill. Our protagonist, a fair-haired girl�"just a wisp of a lovely damsel, cast a fleeting effect of doubt concluding that going on a foul weather hike with her new boyfriend of three hours had already proven one of her less intelligent notions.

Earlier that day, our protagonist took a dozen or so surreptitiously snapped selfies to capture a photo of the new boy. She then employed her new phone application Heavenmadematch.app as a matter of weighing him as a potential love interest, and unsurprising to us readers, it instantly gave him a rating of ten stars out of ten as her love match. It never occurred to her that the incongruous coincidental and creepy simultaneous appearances of both the application and this boy might seem downright�"well�"coincidental and creepy. Considering him further in the standard girlish fashion of judgmental social-standing scrutiny along with her personal predilections, her initial intimate impression of him, a quite distinctive tall, dark, and handsome boy, had seemed to mesmerize her even after her girlfriends labeled her a tramp. His deep, dark sunken eyes, spiky black hair, his nose, eyebrow, and ear studs proved pivotal in her attraction to him besides his unequivocal mysterious comportment topped off by the sterling recommendation of her brand-new digital application. So hand in hand, our protagonist and Goth Boy trotted through the half-broken, spiked wrought iron gate out front of the spooky mansion. A token swinging section of the gate creaked and shrieked in the gusty gales as they passed.

Suddenly, just inside the enclosing iron fence, something shadowy and menacing brushed against her cheek with a graze triggering a blood-curdling shriek as she ascertained a positive apperception that it must have been a vampire bat after her rare well-bred blood. Frantically raking her fingers through her hair with a frenzied flourish because she knew bats always went for your hair, she forced herself to oppress the urge to scarper from the utterly horrifying situation. She repulsively knew she would surely contract rabies. After confirming her hair was unoccupied and she was not bleeding profusely, she noticed Goth Boy appearing surprisingly calm, composed, and brave despite the frightful, near death circumstances. She decided the incident warranted a selfie.

Apparently in an effort to encourage her to accompany him inside, he reinforced his valiant status as a protective male buttress to her shrinking female pluck. He enjoined her not to be afraid convincing her that they must remove themselves from the storm’s brutal wrath and, of course, being right there the frightening old house was their lone choice. In the classic gothic tradition, we readers know, of course, that going inside was always the single most irrational choice teenagers made in a so-called “haunted house situation.” His encouragement gave her a momentary sense of heightened state of protection and elate, but the feelings didn’t last when they darted up to the massive once ornate but now severely timeworn door. Stereotypically, a black cat yowling its’ fool head off streaked out and across the rickety veranda. Startled, she jumped into his arms. He smiled confidently gripping her tight to reassure her�"or�"was it to restrain her? She suddenly conjectured a deep-down doubt that led to dread; nevertheless, she snapped off a few selfies of herself held in his arms.

Obviously ajar, the heavily weathered, gnarled door opened fully on its’ own, the heavy, rusty hinges emitting a spine-chilling squawk. They ran inside, he taking a single deep breath of relief while she panted like an over-spent thirsty canine. With huge, terrified eyes, she scanned about the dust-covered, shadowy gothic furnishings and cobwebby décor while simultaneously quailing at every heavy moan and chilling whistle reverberating through the house. Meanwhile, tattered filigree curtains wafted about in spooky vaporous ethereal movements.

With a grin, the young man plopped down in a cloud of dust to take siege on the old, overstuffed sofa while she stood there trying to rebuild her composure. Our lovely but terrified protagonist turned about in place to reflect on their fear-provoking place of refuge and decided to click off a few selfies of her and Goth Boy who had comfortably draped himself across the sofa with a self-assured expression of bumptiousness. He overstated the fact that he had made a splendid and commendable decision to enter the old but dry house. She mentally derived a resolve that the situation was not at all to her liking and that her current boyfriend was perhaps not who he had presented himself as merely a few hours prior to her current unpropitious circumstance.

Over the hearth, she read a dusty, cobwebby plaque that stated the motto: “Do not tarry, go forth and entreat your due.”  She took a selfie with it before contemplating her dreadful situation with her imagination running wild about the house and her boyfriend feeling so distraught that her psyche couldn’t ascertain a suitable rectifying response. Snapping out of it with a sudden determined steadfastness, she demanded that Goth Boy take her home at that very instant. In turn, he nonchalantly told her that she was there to remain for the rest of her life because the spooky house was his family’s new home and she would soon become one of them. Quickly mounting terror replaced our protagonist’s short-lived makeshift bravery. At that instant, Goth Boy glowed momentarily before growing translucent while three other near-invisible creatures drew up into her midst. Despite their semitransparency, they too had dark ringing their eyes and various studded facial features similar to her soon to be ex-boyfiend. Considering the sheer pain of their cosmetic perforation procedures, she shrank in fear though remained her usual measured dimensions.

 Notwithstanding being frozen with frightful paralysis, she eyed the four apparitions surrounding her, but her finicky trendy tastes evaluated their total lack of fashion sense. The apparitions wore translucent clothes that she determined had to be chic all of three years ago. Figuring her friends would never believe her that anyone could be so outdated, she clicked off several selfies. Despite her appalled sophisticated observation and slightly suppressed fears, she decided to invent an excuse so to initiate a believable opportune and courteous exit. Our protagonist came up with something as best she could on the spur of the moment and directly informed the floating specters that she had to go home and wash her hair then continued about the dust, the rain, the cats, bats, vermin, and so on.

The four specters didn’t seem to care because with an encouragement from her translucent boyfiend, the smallest of the four specters, apparently a sibling understudy in the haunting clan, stepped or rather levitated toward her and informed her that she would never need to wash her hair again because she had been cunningly abducted as breeding stock for propagating a hybrid variety of their interplanetary humanoid species. The boyfiend held his head in stock embarrassment before directing the smaller ghostly apparition that they should shut up concerning the touchy subjects of interplanetary breeding programs and subsequent hybrid species propagation.

Widening her stance with a newfound reinvigorated fortitude, the pendulum swung in our protagonist’s favor as she sternly told them in an extended grandstand speech that she was not about to spend the rest of her life without washing her hair in such a dirty, dusty place especially while cohabitating with a family of Goth ghosts. The four floaters retreated to form a circle and began conversing in a low, moaning-toned prattle. She inched towards the creepy squalling front door as the four seemed preoccupied in their ghostly conversation. Suddenly, the largest of the specters noticed the girl’s seeming attempt at an escape and sounded a ghostly moaning alarm.

 Jumping into action, she ran to the door forcing the frightful black cat to yowl again, but as she ran out, she overheard the ghostly matriarch tell the ex-boyfiend that he should disappear into the walls in disgrace for not preparing the girl properly for their interdimensional mating proposal. With a gleam in her eye and joyful song in her heart, our protagonist streaked down the weed-ridden sidewalk to the street as several bloodcurdling screams emanated from the house. With a premature fruition of her escape in sight, she rounded the corner only to be met head on by him, the ex-boyfiend. With such heartfelt emotion, he endeared upon her to pause and reconsider him and his family. With a glance to the spooky house, she saw the other three specters staring at them with noses pressed tightly against the windows. After a selfie, she stopped and listened.

 Goth Boy implored upon her that with her disagreement coupled with her hasty departure in effect had applied a shear to his self-respect and the respect of his outer space traveling family. Respectfully, she asked him what type of interplanetary creatures they truly were and what brought them to her neck of the woods, er�"suburban area. After a moment of pensive hesitation, he confided in her that they formed a survey expedition from another planet evaluating Earth for possible colonization. Our protagonist in turn informed him that Planet Earth was overpopulated as it was and didn’t need any additional alien beings especially Gothic Ghouls residing on Earth. He countered with a sorrowful story of how their planet had become uninhabitable because of rampant global warming and now here, they could facilitate efforts to counter Earth’s own atmospheric catastrophe. He went on to tell her that they had monitored earthlings’ transmitted preoccupation with hauntings and dark houses, particularly “American Horror Story,” so thought the old house would be the logical place where they could recruit potential humans for companionship and breeding stock. With an exasperated facial mannerism of condemnation, she demanded to know if that’s what he truly considered her�"breeding stock.

“Well, sure,” Goth Boy said with a shrug. “You’re pretty hot.”

“Oh, okay then,” our protagonist said with sighing relief. After taking a selfie with him out front, they trotted back to the old dilapidated, spooky mansion.  

The two young, interplanetary lovers failed to notice the ominous black SUV parked across the street or the dark-haired man and red-headed woman emerge from said vehicle. Both immaculately groomed and wearing dark glasses, the portentous pair crossed the street while threateningly reaching inside their long, tailored, black coats...                                                                        TO BE CONTINUED!