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ELEVEN: Elm Street of My Own
ALL I DID WAS RUN.
Sweat dripped down my temples and stung my dry eyes as the piercing darkness of the alleys came rushing at me. Its footsteps lacked faster and faster in a tempo so horrifying that it was about to swallow me raw.
Guilt-stricken minds felt nothing but fear today.
As I ran and ran, I snatched a look from my peripherals to see a horrifying vision so clear and distinct that I could not have been mistaken. It was the decaying body of my sister coming at me at lightning speed, rotting flesh flying through the breeze created by her run. Her mouth gaped open like the blackness of the abyss of the ocean trench and her left eye dangled down like a swinging pendulum, leaving a hole in her skull that seemed as if it was staring back at me with a menacing glare. Her hair flew in strands all over the place as it decayed from her scalp and the wind blew them away, leaving a bruised brown spot like a chemother
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The Midnight Club Murders ELEVEN: Elm Street of My Own
ALL I DID WAS RUN. Sweat dripped down my temples and stung my dry eyes as the piercing darkness of the alleys came rushing at me. Its footsteps lacked faster and faster in a tempo so horrifying that it was about to swallow me raw. Guilt-stricken minds felt nothing but fear today. As I ran and ran, I snatched a look from my peripherals to see a horrifying vision so clear and distinct that I could not have been mistaken. It was the decaying body of my sister coming at me at lightning speed, rotting flesh flying through the breeze created by her run. Her mouth gaped open like the blackness of the abyss of the ocean trench and her left eye dangled down like a swinging pendulum, leaving a hole in her skull that seemed as if it was staring back at me with a menacing glare. Her hair flew in strands all over the place as it decayed from her scalp and the wind blew them away, leaving a bruised brown spot like a chemot
The Midnight Club Murders TWELVE: This is Melodrama
THE WHITE CLOUDS in the heavens were smeared with a dirty pale color that it overcast grey shadows all over the town as if a storm is brewing.The air was thirstily dry that day.Meanwhile, somewhere across the grey suburbia, in a high-end apartment complex sitting in the heart of town, Isaac felt the slippery satin covering of the lush chair he slumped on—trying so hard not to make his gasps for air audible.“So, what seems to be the problem, son,” a woman in her late-40s with dusty bobbed hair asked while tugging her white coat. She sat on a faux leather, filthy red recliner chair opposite where Isaac was slumped.“I did not come here for therapy. I just need the prescription,” he replied, about to be anno
The Midnight Club Murders THIRTEEN: The Bryophytes
THE FOREST IS CUT OFF BY multiple creeks and rivers along the walls of the suburb which enveloped the whites and greens of the town on the map. The suburb sat on a depression in the land’s topography surrounded by ranges of hills and forestry—like a salad bowl from above. It promised a lux life away from the Kafkaesque nature of the city. But neither the gods know what sinister mysteries lurk in the quiet, lush town, hiding behind the endless sea of weeping willows and towering mahoganies. Today is the day that the Midnight Club goes on yet another one of their pretentious adventures; leaving behind Isaac who was still high on alprazolam, Gwyneth who was still in dreamland, and Dean who has unfortunately passed off. The sun is just starting to shed off its blankets at 7 in the morning. Dew on the shrubs and bushes along the stree
The Midnight Club Murders FOURTEEN: The Great Humming
THE THREE FOUND THEMSELVES running through wild bushes and creeping shrubs; not away from the sound but into it, fueled by an adamant Agatha much to the dismay of the other two.The sun seemed to disappear from the morning skies as they delved and dived deeper through the crevices of the forest ground. Drooping bamboo and the roofs of trees hindered the light from them. As the forest swallowed the three, the trail only got darker and rockier and the humming sound grew louder and bellowed even more.Mickey screamed at the top of his lungs, “I THINK WE’RE ALMOST THERE, OH MY GOD!”Isa, Agatha, and Mickey were panting louder than ever, almost gasping for air.The trail winded down a narrow curve between two opposing chunks of dark granite rock. The dirt path abruptly stopped in front of a large boulder painted with streaks of dri
The Midnight Club Murders FIFTEEN: A Performance in Two Acts
Folks, get ready for a performance in two acts—featuring puppets on a string.***Act OneANOTHER SUNLIT DAY at Van Duke High.A heat wave in the middle of August was uncanny. Every student in Mr. Groffman’s BIO 1 class was drenched in sweat. While Persephone-11 was akin to a boiler room, they could not open the windows because of honey bees swarming from the nearby woods.Isa was fanning herself with a filler notebook. Her eyes drooped from the heat and the boredom. Mickey attentively took notes and persevered. Isaac completely fell asleep, sleepless nights being the culprit.Meanwhile, Agatha sat in the back
The Midnight Club Murders SIXTEEN: Wilted Petals
ISA FOUND HERSELF COMING BACK to Christie Claricel's bedroom. Somehow, it felt like home.One evening, while cooking homemade ramen, Noel Marie came home donning the strong, pungent smell of whiskey."Isa make me coffee," he said in a slurred speech, on the verge of passing out.Isa rolled her eyes, "Why are you drunk again?""Coffee.""Will you please answer the question?""Rude fucking bitch. I said, GO MAKE ME COFFEE!""WHY ARE YOU FUCKING DRUNK AGAIN?"In a fit of rage, Noel pulled Isa by her
The Midnight Club Murders ZERO: The Odd One Out
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑑 —𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑓 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑑. IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT, six friends—who each felt like they have known one another for a lifetime—guffaw and chuckle as they bask in the moonlight’s glow. The moonlight spilled onto their faces through the rickety and old window of the familiar classroom. Two of them joked around. One of them whined about going home. Two of them talked too loud. One almost passed out. The Alcohol Junkie The Whining Thespian The Bibliophile The Know-It-All
The Midnight Club Murders ONE: Voices in the Cafeteria
FOUR DAYS AGO, on a sunny Friday morning, the 11th grade of Van Duke Public High School prayed in the midst of an assembly. One hundred and fifty students stood in lines along the asphalt of the school quadrangle. No one dared to make a sound, not even a breath or a snort. Van Duke appeared frozen in time.“…and we hope that sha’ys one with yah angles. Christie had always been a great friend, schtudent, and sistah,” a cheery girl with short stature and curly hair said onto the microphone podium, in front of the 11th graders with a slight whimper in her high-pitched voice which appeared to badly mimic a grieving tone.The day was the first anniversary of Gwyneth Claricel’s sister, Chr
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The Midnight Club Murders SIXTEEN: Wilted Petals
The Midnight Club Murders FIFTEEN: A Performance in Two Acts
The Midnight Club Murders FOURTEEN: The Great Humming
The Midnight Club Murders THIRTEEN: The Bryophytes
The Midnight Club Murders TWELVE: This is Melodrama
The Midnight Club Murders ELEVEN: Elm Street of My Own
The Midnight Club Murders ELEVEN: Elm Street of My Own
The Midnight Club Murders TEN: Syndromes of Fear
The Midnight Club Murders NINE: Melting Wax
