you can't trust anyone | By: sara parkinson | | Category: Short Story - Death Bookmark and Share

you can't trust anyone

I rechecked the address three times but there was no mistake. This was the place.

            “Well, it’s no o2 arena,” Tanya said from behind me. This was an understatement. The nightclub we’d arrived at looked neither glamorous nor inviting. In fact, it was the complete opposite. The paint had peeled off most of the wall, and graffiti decorated the blank patches. Not colourful graffiti, though: dull graffiti in black and dark purple which made pictures of bats and dark angels. There were no lights on in the windows, but a faint red glow came from the open door. A figure stood there, dressed in a black hooded cloak. From under the hood, I could feel his stare as he watched us.

            Acting more bravely than I felt, I approached the figure, his eyes watching me.

            “Excuse me,” I said, when I’d reached him. “Is this where H2O Plasma are playing?”

            He nodded once. I beckoned to Tanya and Sarah, who were standing a little way back, and we entered the nightclub together. The red glow grew brighter until we reached the main room. Like the outside of the building it was also extremely unappealing. The room was crowded with lots of Goths, and what looked like Nocturnal people, probably here to see the band play. Everyone was dressed in black and dark colours and I felt exposed. Tanya, Sarah and I had adopted a dress scheme of black and bright pink, so we stood out in the darkness. I noticed the disgusted, unwanted looks we got from people who obviously didn’t mind showing their true feelings. I let my hair out of its clip and let it drape over my face, providing a shield from the outside world.

            We stood for about five minutes before I heard a voice shouting: “Maddie! Tanya! Sarah!”

            I turned and saw our friend, Cassandra running towards us, her long velvet dress flowing around her ankles. She looked us up and down, and raised her eyebrows slightly. I suppose that when she’d invited us, she’d expected us to dress like the others around. She looked like she was about to comment, but luckily an overhead projected voice announced the entrance of H2O Plasma, and she joined in with the cheering as three boys walked on stage. I gasped.

            One thing was for sure, they were too breath takingly good looking to be human. They took their places on stage behind the instruments. The drummer started tapping the drums with his sticks, his head nodding with the beat. His hair was shoulder length and blond, with a shaggy look to it. He had extremely long legs which stuck beneath the drum kit. The bass player was also tall, but his hair was short and spiked, and his face was covered in guy liner and manscara. It was the third boy who caught my attention the most.

            He was shorter than the other two by about a head, and had chin length dark shaggy hair that kept falling over his pale face. As he tuned hid guitar, he seemed to feel my stare, and his head lifted so his eyes met mine.

            He smiled slowly, and I felt a chill pass over the room. I couldn’t move and the cold seemed too take control of me. I felt powerless. Fortunately, the bass player tapped him on the shoulder and he looked away, taking the chill with him.

            “They’re amazing right?” Cassandra screamed breathlessly. “That’s Josh, Jared and my brother, Alex.”

            She pointed at the guitar player last, and I noticed how similar he looked to Cassandra. She began to cheer loudly with everyone else as the band began to play. They were exceptionally good, and I was surprised that they hadn’t been signed yet. Cassandra had said they’d been together for three years now. They had the attention of everyone in the room, and a sense of affection and admiration filled every corner.

            Excitement still filled the room, even when they had long finished playing, and disappeared. A few people had left but most had stayed, chatting and dancing to the background music that was now playing. I looked at Tanya and Sarah, preparing to leave, when Cassandra started pulling on my hand.

            “Come on,” she said, excitedly. “You have to come backstage.”

            We followed her, which seemed like the only option at the time. The changing rooms seemed murky, and the lights were dim and faded. The band was standing facing the door. I had a strange sense that they’d been waiting for us. The door behind us shut suddenly. I turned and saw that Cassandra had disappeared. When I looked back, so had Tanya, Sarah, and the two band members, Josh and Jared. The last member, Alex, smiled slowly again, and the chill came back. Once more I felt weak and helpless.

            “Hello, Maddie,” he said, his voice as icy as his smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Did you enjoy the show?”

            I nodded, unable to speak. I wanted to leave and I backed towards the door while he watched me.

            “It won’t open.” He chuckled darkly to himself. I tried the doorknob, and found he was right.

            When I looked back at him, he had changed. His skin had become so pale it seemed almost transparent, and his eyes were a bright, luminous red. They reminded me of the old vampire movies that my dad used to watch.

            “What are you?” I asked faintly, finally finding my voice.

            His smile widened. “Well, that’s a hard question. I don’t have a title. I guess you could say I am one of ‘The Undead’.”

            I looked at his translucent body.

            “You’re a ghost!” I screamed.

            “Ghost, demon, vampire, same thing,” he said frowning. He was approaching me, huger in his eyes.

            “Get away from me!” I shouted. “You are not drinking my blood. I mean it, if you take on more step towards me, I’ll scream for help.”

            I sounded pretty threatening, and Alex stopped.

            “One, it’s your soul I want, not your blood, and two, you can scream if you want. No-one will hear you.”

            The door swung open unaided, revealing an abandoned, dusty room. Everything had vanished: the stage, the bar, and the dancers. It was silent, and looked as if it had been deserted for years. It didn’t make sense.

            And now I stood facing this undead being with hunger gleaming in his eyes.

            “You’re alone,” he laughs, heartlessly. “No-one was ever here tonight except you and I. Even your friends are at home asleep. You can’t trust anyone can you, even yourself.”

            I gasp, confused. Tanya and Sarah are safe at least. I feel better, though only just, and I face my killer. He jumps forward, quicker than light.

            I barely have time to scream before my life flashes before my eyes.




            PC Polly Jones had been given the task of investigating the death of Madison Evans. The girl’s body had been found at an old, deserted nightclub the week before. She opened the results from the lab, and scanned them through. The cause of the death was fairly simple. The girl had obviously hit her head, and she had died of a head injury. Feeling selfish, Polly personally felt that served her right, hanging around deserted areas at night.

            “Kids these days,” Polly sighed, closing her notes. “Case closed.”

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