Shrieks From The Shadows: Once Bitten, Twice Shy: Chapter 1

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

By Lack Lunason 

A Town Seized With Fear 

     That’s why the town was exploding with conversations about the murders.

     Discussions of the murders had even found their way to Trevorston High, the sole high school of the town and surrounding area. The narrow halls were abuzz with the sound of chatting as the students tried to make up their minds about who could have killed the three people in the past three nights.

     At a table in the corner of the lunchroom, sitting alone, was a boy of fifteen years of age. His dark black hair hung down in his face as he surveyed the groups of students at the tables. His eyes, the same color of his hair, were darting back and forth, scanning for his friend. Finally he spotted his friend weaving through the crowd, holding the current issue of the town’s newspaper in his hand. The boy at the table raised his arm and waved his greeting, the sleeve of his jacket falling down slightly.

     “Hey, Arnold.” The boy with black hair said as Arnold sat down and slid the newspaper over. He reached forward, picked up the copy, and read the title; New Victim of Mysterious Murderer’s Rampage. He looked up from the headline and made eye contact with Arnold. “I’m taking it you’ve heard the news.”

     “Of course, Mark. I doubt there’s anyone in ten miles who hasn’t.” Arnold replied as he leaned his chair back. Arnold was roughly the same age as Mark, but completely different in personality. Where Mark preferred sense and reason, Arnold liked the paranormal and fantastical.

     Mark finished reading over the article and placed the newspaper down. “So no evidence again. I don’t know who’s doing this, but they’re good.”

     “Sadly, I have to agree. Each time, someone completely random is found at home dead. The only thing any of the victims have in common is that there have been two holes on the neck and the person has had a surprising amount of blood loss.”

     Mark shook his head and muttered, “This is a nightmare.” The boys fell silent for a moment, both pondering what to say.

     Arnold slowly brought up the one thing he had been thinking, but had been trying not to mention. “You know...the movie geeks have come up with a theory.” Mark didn’t make any sign of not being interested, so Arnold went on. “They think it could be vampires.”

     Mark slowly raised his head from his hands and leaned it to one side. “The movie geeks...or you?”

     Arnold paused for a second before coming clean. “Fine! I admit that it’s my theory, but come on. All the signs are there! The murders have been at night, there’s been two punctures on the neck, extreme blood loss. It just has to be a vampire.”

     “Arnold, you know I don’t believe in the supernatural. This is just the work of a crazed psycho, nothing more.”

     Arnold threw his hands in the air in exasperation, his wild, blond hair getting knocked around. “C’mon! It has got to be a vampire! You have to admit, it would be kind of cool and scary.”

     Mark smiled grimly. “If you want something scary, we have an algebra test in ten minutes.”

     The look of pure terror that fell over Arnold’s face made it look like he did just see a vampire. He jumped up from the table and started running. Mark stood to get a better view of him leaving. “You going to study?” He called after Arnold.

     “What do you think?!” Arnold shouted back as he weaved between the tables. Arnold suddenly came to a halt and, turning around to face Mark, shouted, “You’re still coming over to my house later, right?”

     “Of course!” Mark called back, “I wouldn’t miss it!”

*****

     The afternoon sun shone down onto the street of Hummingbird Lane. The houses had a few Halloween decorations scattered through the yards or on the porches, but, since Halloween was still a few weeks off, nothing too special was out. On normal years, people would be out and about walking their dogs, taking a jog, or running an errand. But this was no normal year and most of the inhabitants had taken to their houses to avoid any unwanted attention.

     The quiet that hung over the street was suddenly broken by that of a school bus turning onto it. The bus rumbled down to the corner and came to a stop. The doors groaned open and Mark and Arnold stepped off. They both watched the bus turn right and continue on its path. 

     Mark looked left for a moment. That was the direction of his house, but that wasn’t where he was heading. He turned and walked back down Hummingbird Lane with Arnold beside him. Arnold was presently talking. “You should have seen the look on Nicole’s face when Bill asked her out. But can you really blame her? Bill has always been a few players short of a baseball team.”

     Mark wasn’t really paying attention. He was busy trying to plan out his next few days so that he could get everything done. He had a good amount of homework, he had to help decorate for Halloween, he had to get the house ready for his aunt coming in a few days, and he still needed to decide what he was going to be for Halloween. Even though the weekend was starting, it didn’t feel like a break for him.

     Arnold turned and started walking up the path leading to his house. Mark paused and looked up at the house. He had been visiting Arnold’s house for years and he only felt good feelings when he looked at it. There wasn’t anything visible to make it any more special than any other house. It was blue, had a small porch, there were two stories, and a very tiny garage. But the people who lived within were anything but normal, at least to Mark.

     “You coming?” Arnold called from the door.

     A smile grew on Mark’s lips. “Of course!” He ran up the path, leapt onto the porch, and walked inside. Arnold shut it behind him.

     “I’M HOME!” Arnold shouted through the house.

     “GOOD FOR YOU!” A sarcastic voice echoed from upstairs. It was instantly recognizable as Arnold’s younger sister; Emily. As long as Mark had known them, he had known them to be the best example of what siblings weren't supposed to be.

     “I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU!” Arnold shouted back as he threw his bag on the floor and Mark did likewise. Arnold’s dog got up from the couch and trotted over. The dog was a small, white Pitbull and its name was Frankenstein -a name given by Arnold.

     Arnold patted Frankenstein and walked up the wooden stairs with Mark close behind. Mark stepped into Arnold’s room and sat down in a chair. It was a medium-sized room painted bright red. There was a bed in a corner, a TV on a table pushed against the opposite wall, and there was absolutely dozens of pieces of paper strewn across the floor.

     Lifting up a game controller, Arnold asked, “Wanna play a round or two of ‘Dark Planet Settlers’?”

     “Absolutely... But only if you want to be destroyed again.” Mark challenged as a grin spread across his face.