Coffin Hop Update #5

I hope you are having fun keeping up with the Coffin Hop. Today, let’s get right to the story.

L. E. White

Feeding

 

Connor walked out of the upstairs bath, rubbing his stomach and smiling. He could see the green light coming out of his eyes, but he was so happy to have fed that he couldn’t control it. At this moment, his life was good.

He walked past the bedroom that Frankie was in, and paused to listen to him telling himself that the world would be better off without him. “Almost,” Connor said before continuing down the hall to the attic entrance.

He felt a sudden rush of power, but wasn’t ready for it. Conner fell to his knees as his eyes flared like a camera flash.

Frankie had just killed himself.

Connor closed his eyes, struggling to control himself, and wondered how the big guy had managed it. Frankie couldn’t have fit through the window and the ceiling didn’t have a fan.

Once he was in control again, he got up and headed into the attic.

It was time to visit Kyle.

***

Kyle sat in an old rocking chair. He had moved boxes and trash to empty his spot, but it was worth it. He imagined the others, sitting on the floor or against the wall, butts hurting and legs stiff.

He wiggled his butt on the seat, wishing for a cushion, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to look around. The attic didn’t have any windows, so Kyle flicked on a tiny flashlight and began to rummage through the trash that had been left in the attic. Kyle tried to be quiet. He knew you were supposed to be quiet while hunting deer, so he figured it was the same for ghosts.

Each time he moved something, he would stop and listen. He moved a couple of dusty boxes and old books before finding a yellowish blanket on a little table. “Sweet,” he said as he picked it up.

That was when he heard a tiny squeak.

Kyle dropped the blanket on the floor and trained his light on it. The edge closest to him began to wiggle, and he backed away from it a few steps.

Kyle’s breath began to come in short gasps as he watched the blanket move. A small black shape emerged from between the folds and stretched out soft, dark grey wings.

Kyle put his hand over his mouth, fighting to keep the scream inside so that he wouldn’t startle the bat into flying. He had searched the room when he came up here, being careful to check every corner before agreeing to stay in the attic.

He had looked Todd straight in the eyes and said, “I ain’t staying up there if there are any bats. I hate bats,” before climbing up the ladder to the attic.

Now, he was looking into the beady black eyes of one.

Shit like this is why he hadn’t wanted to come on this stupid ghost hunt in the first place. He hated mice and bats and all things tiny and furry. The only reason he was here was to try and get into Todd’s pants when they left.

No matter how cute a guy’s butt was, it wasn’t worth bats.

Kyle backed up another step when it flexed its wings. There was another tiny squeak which made him try to back up again, but Kyle bumped into the rocking chair and fell backward into it. The chair tipped forward and he fell onto the floor with a crash. The little LED flashlight smacked into the arm of the chair and the room went black.

Kyle screamed, and it was answered by a loud screeching sound.

And then by another.

And another.

Kyle grabbed his wrist with his other hand and traced the cord to his flashlight. The screeching of bats became louder and faster as the little beasts began to answer each other.

Kyle bit his lip as he tried to get the light to switch on. His thumb worked the button so fast that the clicking sounded like someone drumming their nails on a table. He pauses his clicking long enough to smack the light into his palm a few times, then he went back to work on the button. He was trying so fast, that when the light did start working, he flashed it a few times before he realized that it was on.

The flashing was like a strobe light in a club. In those bursts of light, Kyle saw bats everywhere. They were on the ceiling, the boxes, the back of the chair and some were even crawling across the floor. When he stopped fighting with the light and sat still in the darkness, he listened.

He could hear his heart pounding like a drummer during a solo. He could hear his breathing, short, fast gasps that sounded more like a little kid fighting back tears than a grownup.

He could hear the flapping of wings, the scratching of claws and the squeaking of many, many, bats.

Kyle clicked on the light and shined it around the room. He found so many pairs of black, colorless orbs, that he started crying.

There was a sudden flurry of movement, the light went off again, and Kyle screamed.

***

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