"Evelyn's Wall"

“Evelyn’s Wall”

Steven’s eyes darted across the height of the impressive wall. “What is it?” he asked, shuffling close to Caleb.

Caleb said nothing. He held his phone higher, spastically jerking it from side to side, as if he was recording a racquetball game. Steven trailed him, watching the wall for what he clearly wasn’t seeing.

“Dude?”

Caleb shushed him. “You don’t see it?”

A sudden burst of fear skittered up his spine, and Steven tried to find the exact spot his brother was looking at. “I don’t know! What is it?”

Caleb took a step back and his body stiffened, causing the fear to harden in Steven’s stomach, taking hold of his nerves.

“Caleb, what?” he said, attempting to sound more impatient than frightened. He grabbed his brother’s arm, trying to steady the phone enough to examine the screen, but there was nothing there—just the wall.

“S-Steve…” Caleb trailed off, his tense gaze still glued to the screen. His arm flailed at Steven until he caught a fistful of his t-shirt, and tugged him as he started backtracking faster. “We shouldn’t have come…” His voice hitched at something Steven still couldn’t see. “We shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s just a wall…” Steven shook his head as if denying something no one was saying. “It’s a ghost story, man!” But his faked, brave exterior cracked when horror replaced the color in his older brother’s eyes.

“It’s not… Steve, ru—” But his warning was cut short. The phone smacked to the concrete several feet away, as if he’d thrown it, but Steven knew he hadn’t. Caleb shrieked and reached for his brother as his body was snatched and snapped midair, like a whip.

Steven tried to move, but his heavy terror held him, fusing him to the concrete. Blood appeared where it didn’t make sense, and he watched as his brother’s body was shredded, only managing a whimper.
       What was left of Caleb’s skin slithered across the ground and inch-by-inch disappeared, as if it were being eaten, leaving only bloody proof behind. The air staled, dead and quiet. Steven stood stupefied, and his eyes fell to the blood-spattered phone at his feet.

Written for The Angry Hourglass
c.parsons1@yahoo.com
360 Words