Just Darkness (Lois/Clark)
Title: Just Darkness
Prompt: #13, fun house
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,519
Summary: “Look, I'm not in any danger, I don't think, but I just let loose a really girly scream that I'm pretty sure I'll be ashamed of in the morning, but in the moment seemed like the sensible thing to do.”
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: Written for12days_of_clois Any mistakes are my own because this was written in only 2 days. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. Oh, and it's written in present tense, which I don't normally do, but I thought it would be something different to try.
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A shoulder brushes against the wooden frame as she steps into the room. Her flashlight moves in a sweeping motion while broken glass crunches beneath white tennis shoes. Dust particles dance within that light as it shatters the darkness, bouncing off mirror after mirror, some still intact, most broken, frames standing like skeletons; waiting for something to make them whole again.
Her nose wrinkles in disgust as she purges a deep breathe from her lungs. The air reeks of rotting wood and an unidentifiable yet familiar smell that irritates her nostrils. Sweat trickles down the small of her back, the humidity in the room gluing her red t-shirt against skin.
Her steps slow then stop in the middle of the room. Even as she sweeps her light around, lighting dark corners, chasing shadows, the stillness feels tangible. The silence heavy. It sends a tingling down her spine to the tips of her toes, even as she knows, knows, there's nothing to be afraid of. (It's just darkness surrounding her, after all.) Although, that doesn't stop the crazy mixture of fear and apprehension gnawing at the confidence she built right before entering.
A mirror directly to her left is still whole, so she starts the investigation there, aiming the light at it only to have it bounce off into her eyes, blinding, making her see stars. She reaches out a hand to steady herself, feeling cold clammy air encircling her hand before she even reaches the glass.
Puffs of breath frame her face as her vision clears.
For a moment, she allows it to touch her, curiosity overpowering any trepidation she should be feeling as she first shifts her hand one way and then the other, the cold following every movement. Mesmerized, she steps forward more, fear only a shadow in her mind, waiting until it engulfs her entire body. It feels as if clammy fingers are embracing her, brushing against her skin in a lover's embrace.
Her heart beats faster, as if it knows something she doesn't.
Suddenly, the coldness grows icy as it seeps into her veins. Stomach muscles tighten, shuddering in alarm as curiosity wans and she jerks her body back, snapping herself out of the daze and into action. Her flashlight falls in response, rolling until she can hear it slam into the wall opposite her.
It flickers and dies as she nears it, bringing anxiety to near boiling in the pit of her stomach as blackness greets her. Hands clench into fists. A scream of frustration wells up in her throat, then vanishes as white mist appears, floating eye level before ceasing to move at all. She feels rather that sees a steady gaze impaling her, so much like someone (or something) staring into her very soul. Frozen in stillness, eyes wide in terror, she can only watch as it now changes shapes. Odd angles, misshapen masses. Her mind fills in the blanks.
Not human. Not human at all.
A loud bang and she almost jumps out her skin. The noise echoes for a moment, fading into the distance. It takes her eyes away for only a second and when she glances back the mist is already gone. Disappearing as suddenly as it made its appearance.
Somehow, that chills her more than anything else. The flashlight is quickly picked up in shaking hands that try desperately to make it work again.
It sputters back to life against her palm and for the first time in minutes she breathes a sigh of relief as light escapes. She moves in the direction of the entrance, tracing her steps over glass only to come face to face with the solid wood of a closed door.
The loud bang.
She rattles the handle hard, shoving her shoulder into the door a few times for good measure, hoping the rotten wood will give. Even muttering a few swear words for good measure. Nothing moves and in the end it only serves to make her shoulder ache. She decides to try her luck at the other end and her beam of light highlights the exit door as she jogs to it, ponytail slapping against her neck.
Stuck too. But she tries anyway. A shove or two. Another handle that only rattles. A crack sounds, but it never gives.
A moan escapes her lips.
A moan that doesn't escape her lips.
A weird whistling commences just on the other side of that door. A timeless sort of sing-song that knocks into her. Her hand shakes as she shoves it against the small of her back, legs shuffling slowly away until she's standing in the middle again. Sweat trickles down the side of her face, behind her knees, and this time it's not from the humidity of the room.
She closes her eyes, counts to five under her breath.
“1....”
“2....”
“3....”
“4....”
“5.....”
She exhales slowly, calmly, steadying her heart beat to a more normal rate. Her eyes open.
....only this time she's face to face with something more. A pair of glowing eyes staring at her. Into her. It's presence invading....everything. A macabre grin forms before her. Blood red. Evil. And she suddenly realizes what the smell from earlier was.
Death.
She screams.
It disappears in a cloud of smoke and the distinct sound of laughter can be heard. Whispers of weeping seep from the walls.
Her feet scramble beneath her and her back hits the wooden door before she knows she's moving. Fingers tremble as she takes out her cellphone. It rings once and she holds her breath, the hand holding the flashlight pressed against her chest and over her heart. She's speaking before he can say hello, voice higher than normal, eyes darting back and forth as if waiting for something else to happen.
“Look, I’m not in any danger, I don’t think, but I just let loose a really girly scream that I’m pretty sure I’ll be ashamed of in the morning, but in the moment seemed like the sensible thing to do.” I need you to come get me.
“Where are you?”
Non-verbal verbals are the best. “The fun house at the old fairgrounds. Do you know where that is?”
“Yeah. You shouldn't have gone there alone, Lois. That place....”
“I promise you can lecture me in the morning. Just come. Find me. And get me the hell out of here.”
“I'm coming.”
The phone is still in her hands when she hears his voice.
“Lois?”
Blessedly, all other sounds have disappeared.
“Here.” She steps back, positioning herself a few feet away, light pointing at the door. “The door's stuck so you'll have to....”
Wood splinters as he bursts through, his own flashlight beam finding her in an instant. “You, okay?”
“....knock it down.” A small grateful smile lifts the corners of her mouth, and the concern in his voice is almost too much after what she's been witness too. “Yeah.” She grabs his free hand, thankful for the warm feeling that sinks into her body at the touch. For the safe feeling. “Let’s get out here.”
He glances uneasily at the mirrors before shaking his head. The atmosphere is already getting to him and he's only there a couple minutes. A bizarre chill floods his body. “Why do I have the sudden urge to say Bloody Mary into a mirror three times?”
She jerks on his hand, pulling him behind her. “Resist that urge.”
They follow the exact path they both took, never once looking back over their shoulders. Their feet hit dirt before either one speaks again. “Did you at least find what you were looking for?”
“No.” She suppresses a shudder. “But I have a feeling it can wait until morning.”
He twists his head to look back. His sudden jerk to a stop bounces her back into his chest as he does a double take just to be sure what he's seeing is real. There's a slight crack in his voice when he questions her. “You sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m sure….” She turns with a frustrated expression on her face, only to have it melt away as her eyes widen, telling her what isn't there anymore.
Her hand tightens around his, but he scoops her up into his arms instead.
“Uh, let’s get out of here.”
Lois Lane couldn’t agree more.