CHAPTER 2
"Damn. It's colder in here than it was outside."
Liz leaned on her shoulder against the peeling tope wallpaper with her arms
folded. "How is that even possible?" "I don't know but I wish
we'd brought a space heater all of a sudden. At least body heat will make a
little bit better," Sean said, leaning against Liz's back. "Oh you're
always looking for an excuse to cuddle," Fred said as he shoved the last
box of props through the broken window they had used to get inside. "Hah,
it's true," Paul grunted as he stretched through the open frame after Fred.
"Whatever, you know you like it," said Hannah as
she and Jennifer came in from the hallway. Paul cracked his knuckles,
"Where's Ann? I thought you all came in together?" "I'm right
here, nimrod!" Ann exclaimed from the corner of the room. She turned on
her flashlight under her face. "And I vant your blaaahd!" "Hehe,
we should definitely use that as a shot, it'd scare the pants off of
people." said Fred. Ann responded with a creatively illuminated middle
finger. "Good Lord, we need to cultivate some kind of a scary atmosphere
here, guys! Get in the spirit!" Paul said, punching the air. "I'll
get us started." "Oh no, come on Paul I really don't want you to
start freaking everybody out." Sean said, standing up from the wall. Paul
backed away mockingly with his hands up in surrender. "I promise this has
nothing to do with our current situation whatsoever. In fact, it's a game. It's
only for one player though, and you have to do it at home. So it shouldn't
really be scary right now." Sean rolled her eyes and sat on the threadbare
carpet. "Proceed."
Paul stood up straight and bowed with a flourish. "With
my thanks, Mademoiselle." He began circling the room at a measured pace,
looking with feigned intensity at everyone he passed. "This game is no
ordinary game, you see. No, no ordinary game at all. In fact, most would hardly
even call it a game. But those people will never have heard of it anyway, for
this game is a secret passed by word of mouth to those thrill-seekers foolhardy
or skeptical enough to brave it. This, my friends, is the Midnight Game. Its
origins are shrouded in the mists of time and myth, but most believe it began
as a pagan ritual. A ritual designed to punish those who offended the mad gods
that the people served." Jennifer snickered. "Mists of time and myth,
really?" Paul stopped pacing.
He turned slowly and they locked eyes. "Yes, Jennifer. Luckily,
the violent rituals of these awful civilizations have faded into history."
He walked toward her without breaking his gaze, his steps echoing around the
room. "But not all were lost." He paused directly in front of her,
his eyes hidden in shadow as she looked up into his face. "Some survived
as children's stories of bogeymen and demons that hid in the darkest parts of the
world. Others were secretly preserved in their original forms by the remnants
of the pagan tribes. They knew that their religion was dying out, and the only
way to get the Christ-lovers to pay tribute to their bloodthirsty gods was
through trickery. So they spread their legends and practices by turning the
rituals into games." He kneeled at her feet, still staring deeply into her
eyes. "The Midnight Game is one of these." She flinched at the cold
of his hands as they grasped her own. "The rules of the Midnight Game are
simple, but they must be followed exactly or the consequences can be dire.”
"To begin, you have to acquire a few materials. A
candle, a wooden door, a piece of paper, matches or a lighter, salt,
and..." He pinched the tip of Jennifer's index finger hard enough to make
her wince. "A drop of your own blood." Remember that you must begin
at exactly midnight. If you do not the best you can hope for is that the
Midnight Man will not answer your summons, but we'll get to that. First, you
write your full name onto the paper. Then you must let at least one drop of
your own blood soak into the paper. And don't be shy; they say the more blood
you put in the more likely it is the ritual will succeed." Jennifer's face
had gone slack. "Secondly, you must turn off every light in your house.
Nothing, not even other candles or lights from a computer or T.V. can be on.
Once you have completely emptied the house of light, go to your front door and step
outside. Place the piece of paper with your name on it the ground in front of
the door, light the candle, and place it on top of the paper with your name.
Thirdly, knock on your door precisely twenty-two times, finishing just as the
clock strikes twelve, and then open the door. Immediately blow out your candle
and close the door again before relighting your candle. You have just invited
the Midnight Man into your house for a little hide and seek. Now the game
begins."
In the silence he tightened his hands around Jennifer's
wrists. They felt like vices. She could feel the cold seeping into her flesh.
"You must now move in your house with the lit candle in hand. Your goal is
to avoid the Midnight Man at all costs until 3:33am exactly. If your candle
goes out it means he is nearby. You must relight the candle within ten seconds.
If you fail, you have to quickly circle yourself with the salt. If you fail
that, the Midnight Man has won. You experience a vivid hallucination of your
deepest, darkest fears until 3:33am. If you survive, you have still lost the
game. The only way to win is to avoid him without having to use the salt. Some
stories have come my way of the Midnight Man not following the rules. Stories
of his presence lingering in the houses and shadows of those who failed. It
seems the Midnight Man does not like to be cheated."
He loosened his grip on Jennifer's wrists and enveloped her
left hand in his palms. Her shoulders drooped, as if he'd soaked her fear into
himself. "Not wise to cheat in games with this much on the line. Rumor has
it that no one knows what happens if you cheat because no one has survived to
tell the tale." He leaned forward, his smiling mouth revealed in the
porcelain light of the moon outside. "But I know." His smile grew
wider as he went on. "I knew a man who played the Midnight Game. Frank
Horowitz. He was a friend of my grandfather's. Old war buddies, they were.
Friends for over fifty years. I suppose after an experience like trench warfare
you need something extra to get the fire in your veins."
"So they played the Midnight Game. God knows where they
heard of it. My grandfather, God rest his soul, never told me. In fact, he
refused to admit he'd ever played the game. But Frank did. He told me of the
night they sent his kids upstate to stay with Frank's ex wife. The night they
tried to cheat the Midnight Man." Jennifer sat, entranced, but noticed
something strange. With the moonlight on his mouth she could now make out his
eyes. They weren't smiling.
"Alright, enough, enough!" shouted Sean. She
flicked on the lantern from Paul's bag and they all blinked for a moment in the
new light. "First of all, that was like 90% B.S. Second of all, we really
need to start shooting." Liz looked at her cell phone. "Oh shit it's
already almost eleven; we really do need to get started. Um, you can let go of Jennifer
now Paul." "Oh right, sorry, heat of the moment," Paul said,
standing up. "You know I love telling stories. Sometimes I get a bit
caught up." Ann stood from her corner seat. "Alright, Sean's right
enough jawing let's get this thing started. Jennifer? Jennifer. Jennifer!"
"Huh?" Jennifer looked up at Ann with sleep in her eyes. "What
is wrong with you? I know the story was boring but damn." "Hey what
the hell, that was a great story. That I didn't get to finish by the way,"
Paul said indignantly. Jennifer wobbled to her feet. "No, I'm fine, I just
feel a little... weird." Fred nearly stepped through Paul to put his hands
on her shoulders. "You sure you're alright? Do you need to sit down or anything?"
Her eyes cleared as she shook her head. "No, I'm really fine, thanks.
Let's get started." She moved to the boxes so quickly Fred was left with
his hands in the air mid rub. "OK, yeah, let's get started!" Fred
said, clapping, masking the hint of a sigh that colored his words.
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