We set down our wine glasses, linked hands and asked ‘Is there anyone there? Knock once for yes, twice for no.’
The knock was terrifying, elating. We asked questions of death, of murder, of intent.
The flickering candlelight cast black prowling shadows we shrunk away from, the strangers from our nightmares, the monsters under our beds.
None of us were ever the same again.
Fluorescent lights flicker and the room is swathed in bright, white light. Still the shadows remain.
I sit on the floor in my stark white gown, screw up my eyes tightly and clasp my hands over my ears. When will the knocking stop?
I have been in bed with the Flu for the past week. In my temperature ridden, medicated head this story makes sense, apologies if it doesn’t.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. Read the other entries here.