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Pressure(Paranormal Flash Fiction) (Susan Grass)

“Ugh. Do we have to do this in the basement?”

“Duh. Why would we do it upstairs?” Melissa glanced back at her friend with an incredulously raised eyebrow.

Stephanie was stumped into silence and said nothing more while they went deeper into the bowels of the house. It was dank and dark and filled with cobwebs, none of which Stephanie cared for. Melissa handed the box over to her and proceeded to set up a table and a pair of chairs that smelled like mold and felt a little damp to the touch.

The Ouija board itself wasn't in much better shape. It was a battered, old thing that they found only the day before. Their search for old clothing had derailed itself considerably – but Stephanie had to go home before they could examine it together. It had to be together; Melissa had said so. Stephanie didn't care for any of it, but Melissa didn't care; she was fascinated, utterly and completely, by the peculiar board.

It scared Stephanie a little.

Melissa lit a few candles around the table and plunked the planchette in the middle of the board.

“What should we ask?”

“I don't know. This was all your stupid idea,” Stephanie grumped. She crossed her arms and glowered at the scuffed board.

“Just put your hands on the thing, okay? Gosh.”

Stephanie heaved a long-suffering sigh and complied, but not without a baleful look being shot to her best friend.

“Spirits, are you out there? Give us a sign.”

”… this is so stupid.” Stephanie muttered the words just under her breath - and then the planchette jerked under her fingertips.

“You're moving it!” she cried and pulled her hands away from it. Melissa shook her head vehemently.

“I did not!”

Both girls looked and saw the pointer was resting conveniently over the 'yes' indicator.

“See? It works!”

“It doesn't work.”

“Spirits, give us a sign to prove that-”

Upstairs, something shattered on the floor and both girls fell silent.

“No. More.” Stephanie hissed the words through her teeth.

A door slammed upstairs. She could practically hear the fixtures rattling with the force.

She pushed up to stand, only to feel something pressing at the backs of her legs. She shrieked and the sensation went away; it didn't hurt that she clambered up onto her chair to further avoid the sensation of warmth and pressure.

Melissa wouldn't listen. She looked briefly at Stephanie, then back down at the planchette resting placidly on the board. She put her fingers lightly on it and shut her eyes for the span of a steadying breath.

“Spirits, what are you trying to tell us?”

A low sound started nearby, a low wailing that swiftly rose into a feral shriek. Stephanie began to scream and Melissa continued, undaunted. The pointer twitched and moved sluggishly, stuttering its way across a series of letters under the trembling tips of the girl’s fingers. Melissa squinted and mouthed the letters as they were indicated, but Stephanie's terrified cries were a distraction.

Something fell in the basement and burst with an explosion of sound.

Stephanie hurled herself from her chair and bolted for the stairs. She lost her footing and landed, face-first, on the stairs. Dazed, she was only dimly aware of the blood rushing from her nose and split forehead. She looked up blearily and was able to make out the doubled image of a black cat with gorgeous green eyes. Eyes that were almost human.

Eyes that were a lot like hers.

They were the last thing she would ever see.

Flash_Fiction


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