5 Backstreet Boys in search of a plot by Mare
9 by Mare
~Chapter Nine~

Machetes, dead girl, what's that under your bed and in your closet plus 5 scared shitless Backstreet Boys

The Horror Chapter

~By Mersey~




“Did you hear that?” Brian whispered his eyes wide in horror. AJ nodded, afraid to even make the softest of sounds. He felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck standing on end, a sign that fear was slowly creeping.



The temperature in the room dropped drastically, it was so cold that AJ could see vapors as he breathed. The –



“Oh come on! It’s Flori freaking da! It’s never THAT cold!” AJ grumbled.



“I…don’t know…about that…J.” Howie stammered, his entire body trembling.



The cold seemed to seep from the floor to his toes and spread to his entire body. A streak of lightning tore from the sky, giving the room the light they desperately needed for a second, before darkness loomed once again. A clap of thunder followed soon after. AJ felt it tear the earth and shake the very ground he was standing on.



“Is this house safe Howie?” Kevin whispered.



“Of course! The foundation is built six feet under; this baby is hard as a rock.” Howie prided in himself.



Writer: okay you know what guys. I’m tired of all of you going out of character. You’re supposed to be scared, so act like it! If you’re really good actors, this is the time to shine!



“Shh! Did you guys hear that?” Brian whispered. “There it goes again; tell me you guys heard it too!”



THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!



*Nick giggles*



Writer: Okay Nick, I know you’re blonde and all, but I’m sure you know there is no giggling in horror flicks!



“I’m sorry, but ‘thump’? I’m just seeing two thumbs running around the house!” Nick giggled, again.



Writer: I can assure you it’s not two stupid thumbs you’re about to see. So I suggest you pick your choice of words carefully the next time or I might just let you stay here on your own while the other guys move to another genre in about another five pages from now.



THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!



“I heard it too.” Howie said. “You’re not imagining that Brian.”



“Yeah, I heard it too.” Kevin nodded. “And I think it’s climbing up the stairs.”



“Towards us?” AJ shivered. Kevin nodded, his finger on his lips, motioning the guys not to say another word.



AJ felt his shirt being tugged. He turned to his left and tried to figure out who it was in the dark.



“Don’t worry AJ.” It was Nick, whispering right into his ear. “When I’m scared, I count to five, it usually works.”



“What happens by six?” AJ whispered.



“I don’t know. I’ve never gone that far.” Nick whispered back.



AJ nodded even though he doubted that Nick could see him. He closed his eyes, breathed slowly and started counting.



“One…”



THUMP!



“Two…”



THUMP!



“Three…”



THUMP!



“Four…”



THUMP!



“Five!”



The thumping stopped.



AJ smiled and decided it was safe to open his eyes now. “Hey Ni…GAAAHHHH!!!”



The room was still dark, the guys were nowhere to be found and staring at him, just inches away, was a huge silhouette of a man. The only thing visible was the fiery red eyes, and the machete he was now raising above his head, aiming for AJ.



“Oh COME ON! You’re not gonna leave it at that and move on, are you?”



Writer: As a matter of fact, I am.



“That’s too clichéd. Besides, we already have an axe man, now we have what, machete man? Give me something more…challenging.”



Writer: *thinking* Hmmm…you know what, I think you’re right. Just this once.



AJ nodded. “Damn straight. Now, show me what you’ve got baby.”



“Um, for the record, I didn’t say ‘baby’.”



Writer: I know.



The only thing visible was the fiery red eyes, staring back at him.



“You can’t be Darth Vader; we’ve already covered his ass in that sci-fi chapter.” AJ said.



Writer: Darth Vader doesn’t have red eyes.



“Are you sure?” AJ asked the ceiling.



Writer: That’s the Phantom Menace guy, with red eyes and the ugly, ugly face.



“Oh, I guess you’re right. All these Star Wars Episode things are very confusing.”



Writer: Tell me about it. Not much into Star Wars, I’m more a Lord of The Rings kind of person.



“Yeah, hello, if you two don’t mind, we have a chapter to finish and I don’t have all day.” The black figure with fiery red eyes interrupted.



Writer: AJ, stop distracting me! Sorry fiery red eyed guy!



AJ wanted to protest but decided against it.



“I’m not Darth Vader.” The fiery red eyed guy said with a growl.



“Yeah, I kinda found that out earlier. Remember the whole chat with-”



Writer: *clears throat*



“Never mind…so who are you? And why are you here? Are you the one who was making that thump thump noise? Cause if it was you, I’m going to have to smack Nick upside the head. He promised you’d be gone by the count of 5.”



“Nick’s wrong. You can’t get rid of me by counting to five.” The fiery red eyed guy said.



“I’ll say.” AJ mumbled. “Oh no, are you the boogeyman? You’re him, aren’t you? You came out of that closet when I had my eyes closed!” Now AJ was really afraid, but he still managed to move farther away from the boogeyman, inching towards the door.



“I’M NOT A BOOGEYMAN!” The fiery red eyed guy roared. “I am your biggest nightmare AJ.”



AJ had to laugh, which he did, out loud. “That’s what the axe man said. Kevin killed him, with a laser gun.”



“Well Kevin’s not around is he?”



AJ let out a nervous giggle.



The fiery red eyed guy reached for the switch. “I’m a…” the switch was flicked and the room was once again, filled with light. “CLOWN!”



“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” AJ screamed. Damn his childhood fears! And this wasn’t just any other clown. This was a clown with red contact lenses!



“You know, I don’t understand why you’re afraid of me. I’m a clown for crying out loud. I go to kids’ birthday parties and do silly stuff! You do realize Ronald McDonald is a clown right? That didn’t stop you from eating there.” Now the clown was inches away from AJ’s face, wondering why this 27 year old man was still afraid of a freaking clown.



“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”



The clown rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll get right down to it.” He turned around for a few seconds, leaving AJ still screaming his head off. And then he turned back to face AJ, this time, grinning as wide as he could, showing his razor sharp teeth and scissor sharp fingers.



“You’re mine now.”



-



When Nick heard AJ softly counting to five, Nick decided to close his eyes and counted along with him. It had been a long time since Nick did this. He figured nightmares and ghostly encounters only happened when you were young, when your overactive imagination tended to take control. He found himself shrinking back to the old boy he once was, scared and lonely in his bed as the boogeyman creaked open the closet.



“One…”



THUMP!



“Two…”



THUMP!



“Three…”



THUMP!



“Four…”



THUMP!



“Five!”



The thumping stopped.



When Nick opened his eyes, he found himself in the kitchen, all by himself.



“What the-”



He looked around, trying to find the switch. Outside, the trees swayed with the rhythm of the ferocious wind. It made that eerie sound ‘woooo! Woooo!’



Nick giggled.



Writer: What now?



“Woooo! Woooo!” Nick giggled, louder.



Writer: What sound would you make then?



Nick tapped his finger on his chin, thinking.



Writer: Don’t hurt yourself Nicky.



“How about, whhhheeeeee….wwwhhhheeeee….”



Writer: As I was saying, outside, the trees swayed with the rhythm of the ferocious wind. It made that eerie sound ‘woooo! Woooo!’



Tiny branches from trees nearby started tapping on the window, like claws making their way into the house.



“Kevin! Brian! Where are you guys?” His voice echoed against the walls and bounced back at him.



No one answered.



Nick found the switch and flicked it on, but no lights penetrated into the kitchen. The lightning struck again, as if to mock him.



“Stupid lights.” Nick mumbled. He was brought back to when he was ten. He had woken up in the middle of the night to one of Florida’s worst storms ever. He had cried out for his parents but no one came looking for him. He thought for the longest time, that the evil boogeyman had eaten his parents up.



Of course in reality, longest time was actually less than a minute. His dad had come barging through his room and swept him off his feet and carried him down to the basement, where his mother and his sister BJ had taken refuge.



“Damn, that is actually nice. I wish that really happened.” Nick said, looking up at the ceiling.



Writer: Shh!



Nick went to the fridge and opened it. Weird enough, the electricity was working fine for the fridge. He found a few slices of chicken, salami, slices of cheese, tomatoes, smoked turkey bacon and a bottle of mayonnaise and preserved pickles. He brought them all out and placed them on the table.



“Time for a sandwich.” Nick grinned and started piling everything up in between 2 slices of bread. Once he was done, he licked his lips once more and brought the homemade sandwich to his mouth.



The sandwich disappeared before Nick could get a bite of it.



“What the-”



Writer: You were going off topic! You are supposed to call out for AJ and Howie!



“You know, you can take away my girlfriend and my subway tuna sandwich, but NEVER, NEVER take away my homemade sandwich!”



Writer: The bread has mold on it. You didn’t see it, it was too dark.



“Oh really? Why thank you then.”



Writer: Sure thing. Now how about that call?



“AJ? Howie! Are you guys here?” Nick yelled, hoping that this time, someone would answer him other than just his own voice echoing back.



The curtains started to sway, the kettle on the stove started to whistle and chairs started to move around on its own.



“Fuck this!” Nick started to run, wanting to make his way up to the very room he was in before his little countdown had transported him to the kitchen. But just as he was about to make his move, he heard something that stopped him.



Niiiicccckkkkkyyyy….



It sounded like a little girl.



“Maybe it’s my girlfriend Nicky!”



Writer: Your ‘girlfriend’ wasn’t a little girl.



“Oh.”



Writer: Can we continue now?



“Yeah sure, whatever.”



It sounded like a little girl. Her voice was soft and breezy like the wind. But there was no comfort to be found in her voice.



Nick felt the tremble back on his body. The fear. You’re NOT gonna pee! No way!



Nick turned around quickly as he heard a set of footfalls running across the kitchen, followed by a childlike giggle. But there was no one there.



“Guys! This isn’t funny anymore!” Nick yelled.



“Hey Nicky, over here!”



Nick turned to his right, trying to find the person behind that voice, and again, he saw no one. He turned to his left, about ready to flee the scene, when there she was, standing at the very doorway of the kitchen – Nick’s only way out.



She couldn’t be anymore than five years old. She had a white gown that reached past her toes. Her golden locks looked frail and almost white. Her eyes pale, her lips blue and where her eyes should be, there were only dark sockets, with maggots coming out of them.



“Oh shit.”



That was the last thing Nick said before he blacked out.



“I demand a better ending!”



Writer: that’s not an ending you goon



“Still! That made me looked like a wuss. She’s only a 5 year old girl!”



Writer: She’s a five year old DEAD girl, who will cling on to your neck and never let you go if you don’t shut it, right about now.



“Yeah…ok, so, faint it is then.”



-

Kevin, ever the smart one, realized something was amiss when the dark room was suddenly filled with light and he was alone, in a totally different room. In fact, it was a nursery.



“I really think this should be Brian’s scene.”



Writer: I really think you should stick to being scared.



“I sense something unpleasant in this room.” Kevin said to himself. The nursery was filled with everything pink and lacy. Somewhere in the distance, an instrumental lullaby song was playing softly.



Out of nowhere, an apparition of a woman in a white nightgown came approaching the crib. Kevin could hear a baby crying now, wailing for some kind of attention. The window started to open on its own; the soft pink curtain looked like flailing arms as the ferocious wind started blowing in.



The rocking chair started to rock. Things started to move on their own.



“It’s just the wind.” Kevin told himself and started for the window, fighting with the wind to get it closed.



The baby had stopped crying. The woman was making cooing sounds as she stared down at the crib. Kevin approached her with caution, not wanting to make any noise and risk waking the baby up.



“I didn’t know Howie was married with a kid.” Kevin said. “This must be some alternate universe thing going on.”



Writer: Not really, we haven’t reached that genre yet.



“Excuse me miss, can you tell me where I am right now? I mean, do you live with my friend Howie? Cause last I checked, we were in his house.”



The lady said nothing, still cooing at the baby crib. Her hair was a mess, and her downward gazing eyes weren’t helping Kevin any.



“Miss?” Kevin asked as he reached the crib. He looked down and gasped. There was a baby all right, but there was also a pillow on top of the baby.



“Damn, you’re SO mean!”



Writer: It’s supposed to be scary Kevin!



“Still, that’s mean!”



Writer: Mean would be having this woman strangle you. Now, carry on please.



“She won’t cry anymore…” The lady whispered. “Everything will be all right.”



Kevin felt like throwing up. “You…you…”



She looked up for the first time, smiling at Kevin but there was no comfort in that smile. Kevin also realized he could see right through her.



Writer: This would be the best time to start screaming.



“HOWIE!!!!!”



-



Howie was running in the dark. He wasn’t sure where he was going, or what he was running from, all he knew was, he had to run. The thumping of someone, or something, hadn’t stopped ever since they heard it back in his room. He also figured somewhere along the way, everyone freaked out and started running in different directions. So much for staying together through thick and thin, he thought.



But something finally made him stop running. And that something came in a form of Kevin’s voice, calling for him.



“Screaming more like it.”



Writer: I’ve decided screaming is too girly for Kevin.



“But you wouldn’t have any problems if it were me.”



Writer: You bet.



Relying only on his hearing, he decided to run towards Kevin’s voice.



“But what if that’s not Kevin.” Howie said, immediately pausing in his track. “What if it’s that thing trying to lure me out?”



Howie waited, weighing his options. Meanwhile, Kevin’s calls for help were becoming desperate.



Writer: For goodness sake, just go!



“This is important! And you could help by telling me if it’s really Kevin or not. You wrote this damn thing!”



Writer: Play fair. AJ didn’t even complain and he’s facing a fiery red eyed clown with razor sharp teeth and scissor sharp fingers for crying out loud.



“WHAT!”



Writer: Kevin is in danger Howie.



“You….ugh!”



So Howie started running towards Kevin’s voice and found himself climbing up the flight of stairs and facing the door to the attic.



“Great.” Howie muttered. “I don’t even have an attic.”



Writer: You don’t? You’re weird. Would you prefer the basement? I can always rewrite you know.



“After you made me climb these stairs? Heck no. I’ll just go check this out.”



Howie reached for the knob, twisting it painfully slow, as if to drag the suspense further.



“Howie…help me, please!”



“I’m coming Kevin! Hold on!” Howie yelled through the door as he twisted the knob and pushed the door ajar. Rusty hinges creaked and the opening was finally big enough for Howie to squeeze through.



“Hurry D!” Kevin pleaded.



The urgency in Kevin’s voice only scared Howie even more. Something wasn’t right with him.



“I’m here! I’m here! Where are you Kevin?” Howie asked, looking around the dark attic. He tried looking for the switch but found none.



“Kevin?” Howie asked again when he got no response. “Nice Kev, call me out to hurry and now that I’m here, you’re hiding.”



Howie tried adjusting to the dark, trying to find where Kevin had hid himself. Perhaps Kevin was too hurt to say anything now. Maybe some huge old trunk had dropped on him.



“Kevin? It’d be really awesome if you could just yelp a little ‘I’m here’ and help me find you.”



No answer.



The temperature started to drop. His body started to tremble. The attic didn’t seem like a good place to go to when there’s something out there ‘thumping’ to get to them all.



The door to the attic slammed shut.



“Oh shi..”



-



“Guys are we playing hide and seek?” Brian asked out loud as he realized none of the guys were there in the room with him anymore. The scary thumping sound had stopped and the lights were back on in the room. Brian was truly impressed with Howie’s deco.



“Howie? Are you sure you want to play this game? I throw stuff around during hide and seek, you know that right?”



No answers.



The curtains that reached all the way down to the carpeted floor, started to sway gently. Brian felt himself grinning. He tip toed his way closer, carefully navigating his way without being caught.



“Sometimes I drop stuff, breakable stuff.”



He grabbed a fistful of the material and counted to three before yanking it away. “GOTCHA!”



To his disappointment, there was nobody hiding behind the curtain. That was weird, he thought. He could have sworn he could make out the figure of someone about his height.



“Fine, you guys want to play dirty, I’m up for it!” Brian yelled. “Nick, I can’t believe you joined them in this! I thought you were my partner!”



Brian looked around the room. There weren’t too many places for a Backstreet Boy to hide, yet, now there were four of them hiding somewhere in that very room.



He looked behind a bookshelf and under the study table and found no one. Brian started to scratch his head.



“You know, there is NO way you can hide all four of them in this room now.”



Writer: That’s for me to worry about Brian. Now shoo! Keep looking!



He went for the laundry basket next. It was big enough for at least one Backstreet Boy, and a pile of smelly Howie clothes.



“What the heck is a laundry basket doing in his room?”



Writer: You have got to be kidding me! Didn’t you know Howie learned to do his laundry while on hiatus? Come on, you guys should be tight. You should know this! Shame on you Brian.



“That still doesn’t explain why there’s a laundry basket in his room.”



Writer: I don’t have to explain anything to you. Now go on, check that basket.



Brian grumbled but did as told. He opened the basket and yelled ‘GOTCHA NOW!’



Still, there was no Backstreet Boy there.



“This is beginning to feel like ‘Where’s Waldo?’”



That was when he heard it, someone giggling coming from under the bed!



Brian smacked himself on the forehead. “Stupid! Of course, under the bed! That could fit all 4 Backstreets.”



Slowly making his way there, he grabbed for the bed cover and pulled it up. On his knees, Brian ducked his head down there to surprise the boys.



“Yoohoo!” He cried, grinning as widely as he could. But there was no one there.



Brian jumped on the bed as fast as lightning. Fear clearly in his eyes. “No, they have to be down there. I heard someone giggling!”



The thumping was back and it sounded louder and nearer than before. Brian could feel the ground shaking as it made one huge thump after another.



Out of fresh ideas, he made a grab for the blanket and covered himself with it. Perhaps whatever it was that was definitely coming towards him wouldn’t notice the bulge under the blanket. Perhaps whatever it was, was exactly what Nick had thought it was, just two harmless thumbs searching for a pair of thumb less hands.



It was in between saying his prayers and almost peeing in his pants that Brian heard someone knocking urgently. Upon better inspection, he realized that the knocking came from inside the room, not outside.



He pushed the blanket off of him and sat on the bed, listening carefully.



The thumping had just passed the room, making its way to the room next to Howie’s. And to his surprise, the knocking came from the closet.



“Oh my God, maybe it’s the boogeyman!” Brian cried, unsure of what to do.



“I’m not the boogeyman! Hurry open up!” A voice whispered from in the closet. It didn’t sound like any of the guys. In fact, whoever it was trapped in that closet, had a British accent.



Curiosity won him over. He went running for the closet, and swung the door open.



Brian’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell frozen in the shape of an O.



Hey all! Mare will be back next Wednesday with the crossover chapter


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