The Dark Specter from The Devil's Playground

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Chapter 4

Waking up in the new house felt amazing. Nothing went bump-in-the-night, nothing jumped out at me, and there was no eerie feeling here. It was peaceful and safe. The only problem is we still had to finish bringing everything over from the old place today.

Sighing I headed into the kitchen where my dad held up a Bo Jangles bag. I grabbed the bag pulling my breakfast out; egg biscuit and seasoned fries.

“Eat up, we’re going back once you finish,” my dad said, as I began eating my breakfast. I ate quickly, wanting to get the day over with. In a few minutes I was done eating and was heading out the door with my dad.

We rode to the old house in silence, we didn’t want to return. Who would if you knew the place was trying to kill you? I certainly didn’t.

As we pulled onto the road the trailer park was on, I could feel an eerie fog surrounding me. The area was always dark and gloomy, but this was a different kind of fog. One that told me someone was going to get hurt today.

****

Hours later, we were loading up the last few things. My father and I began loading up our large, white, double-door fridge in the back of the truck. He had the hand-trucks, and I was stabilizing the fridge from the outside of the house. The two of us managed to get the fridge on the truck, safe and sound. Except the hand-trucks were pushed from my dad’s hands and were heading straight for the back of my head. I heard my dad say something and turned around to be smacked across the face with the metal hand-trucks.

“Are you ok?” My dad shouted from inside the now empty trailer.

All I could do was nod as I burst into tears. The hand-trucks busted my lip open and knocked my front teeth out of place. I was in agonizing pain.

“I don’t know how you knew to turn around. I couldn’t get a word out before that thing hit you.”

“Yes you did. I heard you say something, so I turned around. Good thing I did too. If I wouldn’t have that thing would’ve knocked me unconscious.”

“Yes it would have. But I didn’t say anything. I thought it though.” My dad scratched his head, puzzled.

“Maybe I heard your thoughts. I don’t care how it happened, or how I heard you. The good thing is that I did, and I’m not unconscious. Now let’s get out of this hell, and go home.” I walked down the last step and headed for the passenger side of the truck. My dad locked up the house and taped the keys to the door before walking towards the truck. He climbed inside, with a worried look on his face as he looked at my busted lip. Shaking his head he started the truck and we headed out of that neighborhood, for good, never to return to that frightening place again.

Fear caused us to move there and the worst fear of all caused us to move away: the fear of death. Now we no longer live in fear that a ghost may come for us in the middle of the night. We can now sleep safe without any worries.


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