05-07-2019, 06:09 PM
The moon was especially bright tonight. Its fluorescence crept through the hollow windows of his stone hut, chasing away the shadows that crept within. The occasional bog noise could be picked up, be it the croak of an exceptionally boisterous frog, or an acute gust of swampy air blowing past - though all was relatively quiet. Perfect sleeping conditions, they were.
One could say that tonight was perhaps even too quiet.
Turbulent snores erupted within the back of the slumbering guardsman’s throat, forcing themselves out in rank-smelling breaths. The cool room was infused with the faint aroma of canned peaches, in addition to the putrid breaths Leroy expelled in his stupor. His eyelids had collapsed hours ago, meaning that the current hour was likely one of the early morning. His conscious sat in a deep state of dormancy.
Click.
A bulb flicked on somewheres within environment, its radiance gingerly invading the relaxing backdrop. A low electronic hum became the latest addition to the list of white noises that made up the setting. Following a time period of a modest amount of seconds, neon lights of red, green, and yellow abruptly bathed the once-torpid hut with their illumination.
Amber hues gradually revealed themselves amidst the whole ordeal, suddenly languishing into a wince whilst the lights first turned on. Once the realization of what was happening hit him with the force of a barreling semi-truck, Leroy’s tired eyes darted open as he quickly sat upwards.
"Fuck."
The commotion’s source was the spectre that made a home out of his jukebox, and any second now, it would-
”♪ WHOA! I FEEL GOOD!”
”Not again.”
At a volume that was amplified louder than usual, the musical piece of hardware spontaneously began playing James Brown’s ‘I Got You’. Last time this had happened, it was early November, just after the ghosts ended their month-long invasion on Tanglewood. The male thought that he’d seen the last of this spirit. Evidently, and unfortunately, that was not the case.
”♩I KNEW THAT I WOULD, NOW.”
Augmenting the present issue to a higher degree, the spectre must have manipulated the machine’s lights, as they were appearing way brighter than they should be.
”This is not good,” he declared, before bolting out the building’s door and chanting, ”It ain’t my fault! It ain’t my fault! It ain’t my fault!”
It was not his fault.
One could say that tonight was perhaps even too quiet.
Turbulent snores erupted within the back of the slumbering guardsman’s throat, forcing themselves out in rank-smelling breaths. The cool room was infused with the faint aroma of canned peaches, in addition to the putrid breaths Leroy expelled in his stupor. His eyelids had collapsed hours ago, meaning that the current hour was likely one of the early morning. His conscious sat in a deep state of dormancy.
Click.
A bulb flicked on somewheres within environment, its radiance gingerly invading the relaxing backdrop. A low electronic hum became the latest addition to the list of white noises that made up the setting. Following a time period of a modest amount of seconds, neon lights of red, green, and yellow abruptly bathed the once-torpid hut with their illumination.
Amber hues gradually revealed themselves amidst the whole ordeal, suddenly languishing into a wince whilst the lights first turned on. Once the realization of what was happening hit him with the force of a barreling semi-truck, Leroy’s tired eyes darted open as he quickly sat upwards.
"Fuck."
The commotion’s source was the spectre that made a home out of his jukebox, and any second now, it would-
”♪ WHOA! I FEEL GOOD!”
”Not again.”
At a volume that was amplified louder than usual, the musical piece of hardware spontaneously began playing James Brown’s ‘I Got You’. Last time this had happened, it was early November, just after the ghosts ended their month-long invasion on Tanglewood. The male thought that he’d seen the last of this spirit. Evidently, and unfortunately, that was not the case.
”♩I KNEW THAT I WOULD, NOW.”
Augmenting the present issue to a higher degree, the spectre must have manipulated the machine’s lights, as they were appearing way brighter than they should be.
”This is not good,” he declared, before bolting out the building’s door and chanting, ”It ain’t my fault! It ain’t my fault! It ain’t my fault!”
It was not his fault.