Information
Rosary has a minion!
Spook the Oowel
Spook the Oowel
Rosary
Legacy Name: Rosary
The
Custom Nightmare LegeicaOwner:
Age: 14 years, 8 months, 2 weeks
Born: August 7th, 2009
Adopted: 14 years, 8 months, 2 weeks ago (Legacy)
Adopted: August 7th, 2009 (Legacy)
Statistics
- Level: 486
- Strength: 1,215
- Defense: 1,215
- Speed: 1,207
- Health: 1,207
- HP: 1,206/1,207
- Intelligence: 428
- Books Read: 425
- Food Eaten: 1
- Job: Mens Specialist
Art by mclaren
Profile by diglett
Overlay by Ankoku
Creaaaak. The sound of pressure being applied to wood, of nails being slowly pulled from their holes, filled the air.
The girl looked around worriedly. They were being so loud! She groaned and pulled her coat tighter around her body as she watched her breath blow out in a visible little puff. It was a chilly night, and the sun had been down for hours. The moon didn't provide any warmth and was hidden by clouds, anyway, as were all but a few stars that speckled the sky here and there. Sure, they'd brought flashlights, but the little things only went so far. They were no match for the night.
All in all it was cold and dark, the only real noise caused by the them, and she wanted to go home. They weren't even supposed to be there. What business did teenagers have at an abandoned orphanage, anyway?
The fact that the place had been closed longer than she'd been alive was bad enough. Rusty nails held boards over windows that had been shattered long ago. Broken glass littered both the ground outside and, from what she could see from peeking over her friend's shoulder, the floor inside, as well. Even the building itself, which was made of brick, was beginning to crumble. It wasn't safe, and, honestly, had probably been condemned years ago.
But then you had to add in the fact that the place used to be part of a church, had housed children 24/7, all year round, but was now left behind to rot due to loss of funding, and then the night wasn't just cold and black. It was creepy, too.
There was even a graveyard to the left of the old building. A graveyard!
A shiver ran down the girl's spine, and she kicked at the bottom of her friend's sneaker, the sole exposed as he sat on his knees, prying wood loose from a small window leading into what seemed to be the basement of the building. "Come on," she said, her voice a little high-pitched. "Let's just go rent movies and watch them at my place. If you want a scare we can rent a stupid horror flick, something about ghosts or vampires."
CRACK! Finally the wood snapped, breaking into two pieces and falling inside the basement, making a loud crash.
The girl sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes wide as she took another glance around at their surroundings. There were no nearby houses, no neighbors to disturb, but it still seemed like they should be quieter ,or, as she'd already suggested, not there at all. Surely it was at least possible they'd be caught.
"Sweet!" The boy's voice was loud and excited, and, as he turned his head so that he could look up at her, a big grin stretched across his face. "You come on. Why would you want to go home and watch ghosts when you can see them?"
There were so many ways she could respond to that question, but she wasn't given the chance. Instead of waiting to hear any sort of reply, the boy was already sliding through the small window he'd just unblocked. He turned, his legs sliding in first. After a moment his entire body had slipped through, nearly impossible to see in the darkness of the building, save for the moments where the dim beam of his flashlight was waved around, before pointing in the direction of a set of stairs.
The girl sank her teeth into her lower lip, chewing it anxiously as she watched her friend disappear into the shadows inside. "This is such a dumb idea," she whispered to herself, but that didn't stop her from following behind.
Broken glass crunched beneath her booted feet as they touched the floor, and she groaned at the sound. This had bad idea written all over it, she was sure of it, and she hurried to catch up to the boy, his hand held out and waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs he'd found. She didn't want to be alone outside or inside of the old building.
Their fingers intertwined, and, as he squeezed them, he gave her a confident smile. "Don't worry so much, ghosts don't really exist, right? Plus, we're in an orphanage. Surely, if ghosts were real, the only ones here are the ghosts of little kids, and how much harm could they possibly do?"
While the girl didn't want to think about children becoming ghosts, particularly in a place completely abandoned of any sort of life, she tried her best to convince herself there was really nothing to fear. She squeezed the boy's hand back, giving him a weak smile, and, together, they ascended the stairs, leaving the dark, shadow-filled basement behind.
It was no more lit the farther upward they traveled, the stairs leading them into what appeared to be an abandoned kitchen. Pots and pans littered the floor, as well as dust-covered counters and tables. Chairs were stacked here and there, others knocked over, and some were even missing legs. Like in the basement, glass littered surfaces left and right, and the entire building seemed to smell heavily of mildew. The girl's nose wrinkled, and she held tighter onto the hand of the boy as he led her through the room.
They left the kitchen behind, entering what appeared to be the foyer of the orphanage. Two heavy doors were tightly shut and locked in front of them. There was no decor, no furniture. All that was left in the room were numerous pieces of old paper, turned yellow with age, the words faded and illegible, and another set of stairs, chunks of wood missing from steps here and there.
"C'mon," she whined, her eyes pleading as she managed to pull the boy to a halt, just before he began to take on this new flight of stairs. "What are we even doing here? There are no ghosts here, you said so yourself. This place is just creepy, and those stairs are dangerous, and we never should've even come in here. There's no point in us being here, and we should just go."
The boy stared down at her, but finally, after a long moment of thought, he sighed heavily. "Fine," he said, not bothering to hide the grumpy edge in his voice. "We'll go, but can we at least get a souvenir, or something? Let's just find some little object to take with us, to show everyone we were actually here. They'll never believe us otherwise! Please. Let's just look for a little toy or something to take with us, to prove it, and then we'll leave. I promise."
She sighed, her eyes closing so that she wouldn't give in to the urge to roll them. Would it really be such a bad thing if no one believed they'd been there? She herself would've just loved to ignore that fact, to pretend it just was not happening.
But she still found herself saying yes and following him up those creaky, warped steps, her fingers clutching at his for dear life as she watched her steps carefully. She knew he'd be impossible, otherwise. And, besides - it couldn't take that long to find an old toy in an abandoned orphanage, could it?
She sure hoped not.
She tugged her hand out of his the moment they reached the top of the stairs. It was in no better shape than the rest of the house, and in certain places it was even worse. There were missing boards from the floor, holes in the wall, and cobwebs hung in every corner. It was also freezing.
She wrapped her arms around her upper body, suddenly feeling the cold despite the coat she wore, and she could feel goosebumps popping up along the skin of her arms. It made her even more uncomfortable. "You have five minutes to go and find something. I don't care what it is, and I don't care where you find it, but you only have five minutes to do it. I'm finished with this house! I'm waiting here for you, and the moment five minutes are up, I'm leaving, whether you're with me or not!"
The boy pouted, but he didn't argue. Instead he took what she'd given him, turning to the right, entering a room he'd randomly selected. He disappeared into it, his footsteps growing quieter the further away he went. Soon the only sounds that filled the hall the girl stood in alone were the sounds the house made: creaking boards, the old building settling, water dripping from a roof leak somewhere off to the left.
It turned the girl's discomfort into sheer edginess.
She began to pace back and forth. She wasn't wearing a watch, but she counted off seconds in her head. One, two, three... Her hands moved up and down her arms, trying to create friction, to give herself some form of warmth and rub out the bumps that she could still feel so strongly, but it was doing little to no good.
It was as she paced, distracted, that it happened.
The more she moved, the quicker she went, and soon she got careless. She'd become so wrapped up in counting the seconds " two minutes and thirty-nine seconds, two minutes and forty seconds... " that she hadn't bothered to watch her footing. The sole of her boot landed on the edge of a step, and her ankle twisted. Before she could react or catch herself, her body was leaning backward, headed for a fall down the stairs.
She opened her mouth to let out a shrill scream... but the fall didn't come.
The scream died on her lips, and her eyes widened. She was terrified, confused, but most of all shocked to find that something was pushing against her upward, shoving her back up onto the second floor, away from the steps she'd nearly tumbled down. She could feel the clear features of a head, one that was long, with a soft snout, perhaps one belonging to a horse?
But she quickly pushed that thought away, though it made no less sense than the fact that something, anything at all, was pushing her altogether.
She stumbled, but her feet were soon firmly planted on the floor. She whirled around, eyes frantic, mouth still open as she prepared herself to catch an eyeful of whoever, whatever, had saved her from something that surely could've broken her arm, leg, or worse.
But there was nothing there, save for an oddly-shaped black mist that lingered for a moment before evaporating.
The girl stood there, staring down the stairs, no trace of anyone or anything. There was no one, nothing, and she was very aware at how alone she was at that moment.
So what, exactly, had pushed her to safety?
"Hey!" the boy exclaimed suddenly, his voice excited as he left behind the dark room he'd just been in. His flashlight was aimed at her, shining on her face, and he frowned as he approached her, whatever he'd been about to tell her forgotten, at least for the moment. "Are you okay? You're really pale. It looks like you've seen a ghost."
Her eyes were still wide when she turned to look at him, but she didn't answer. Instead she gave a simple shake of her head, unwilling to attempt to speak.
The boy shrugged after another moment of watching her, then seemed to remember what he had been about to tell her, a big smile stretching across his face. He held an object up into the beam of his flashlight, so that she could see it. It was a simple doll, its hair curled into tight, shiny ringlets, a frilled dress covering its body. It was somehow in much better shape than the rest of the house and its contents seemed to be.
"There's an entire room of dolls like this," he said, his own eyes widening for a moment. "They're all perfectly aligned on this big shelf, and they're all so neat and clean. It's like they're brand new, or at least like they've been dusted and kept in order. And, look-" He paused and handed the girl his flashlight, so that she could dig around in his pocket for something he'd stuffed in there.
She gladly took the flashlight from him, grateful for the new source of light, even brighter now that it was in her own hands. The girl clutched it to her chest like a doll of her own, her grip on it tightening as she realized she was trembling.
What the boy showed her next didn't really help. He pulled a photo from his pocket and held it into the ray of light. "Look, it's a picture, I guess of all the orphans and their horse!"
Sure enough, more than twenty orphans were all lined up, biggest in back, smallest in front. In the middle of the rows of children, being hugged by some, petted by others, but clearly appreciated by all, was an old, black horse, a piece of hay sticking out of its mouth.
The girl swallowed hard, turned, and walked down the stairs.
It wasn't until a week later, after passing the photo around to a few friends, that they were told of the rumors of the ghost horse that had lingered after dying with nothing to keep her company save for the dolls of the children she'd left behind, unable to pass on and rest in peace, still feeling as though she was needed by any and every child who happened to enter the orphanage.
Read more about the orphanage!
Pet Treasure
Sleuth Rag Doll