Troublemakers

Kevin Dean – Kev to his friends - had that itchy feeling on the back of his neck again that meant trouble. He didn’t know what direction trouble would come from, or what form it would take, but the itch was a clear signal that Kev was very familiar with. He tucked his blue checked flannel shirt into his jeans and hunkered lower on the sofa, ignoring the way it made his blond hair stick up in back as his head rubbed against the sofa cushion.

The dozen or so teenagers Kev called his friends, plus a few strangers he didn’t know, were sprawled on the furniture in the living room of Deke’s house watching a horror flick on TV. The party had started hours ago, they had run through the chips and dip, most of the Pepsi in the house, two large pizzas and three trays of hot wings. Now they seemed content to sprawl in front of the TV. Kev didn’t know how they could hear the dialogue when the stereo was blaring loud enough to wake the dead, but they seemed totally absorbed in what was on the flickering screen. Kev wasn’t into horror, so the TV held no interest and he had been bored until that wretched tickle hit the back of his neck.

Deke Cline had been his best friend since they were five, and had gotten him in trouble more than once. If trouble was coming, Deke was a good source. Kev got up and went looking for Deke.

He found him bent over with his head in the refrigerator, grabbing a beer that none of them were supposed to have. The oversized LSU t-shirt his friend wore was grayed and frayed and cut off at the waist, and the baggy jeans were hanging so low Kev could see his friend’s butt crack. He turned away at the gruesome sight and smiled.

While Kev’s parents were overprotective to the max, Deke’s parents never objected to anything his best friend did. Which was why Deke was opening the beer he was too young to be drinking while the refrigerator door slammed shut from a kick of Deke’s foot.

“What’s up, bro?” Deke asked, seeing the look on his best friend’s face.

“Trouble’s coming,” Kev said bluntly, knowing Deke would understand exactly what he meant.

“Bad news,” Deke said, brushing his wavy brown hair back with an agitated hand and tugging his jeans up a little.

“What you been doing that will bring trouble this way?” Kev asked, giving his friend a little shove on the shoulder to make his point.

“Nothing, I swear it,” Deke said, putting the beer on the counter before he even took his first sip from the bottle.

“I’ll believe you, for now,” Kev said with a grim look on his face, “but…”

They were interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. The two exchanged a knowing look.

“Trouble,” they both said simultaneously, then quickly exited the kitchen to see what was at the front door.

Kitty, a curvaceous blond that Deke’d had his eye on for the past year, was holding the front door open. Beyond her was a pair of grizzled old cops who didn’t look happy.

“Hello, officers,” Deke said as he approached, trying to sound charming and innocent. That act had gotten him out of trouble more than once.

It’s that Cline kid, the officer on the left – who from the wrinkles on his dangling jowls looked like he should have retired years ago – was thinking as Deke approached him. Kev suppressed a grimace at hearing the officer knew his friend. It wasn’t a good sign when the back of his neck was also itching. He gave his best friend a quick signal so he would be on his guard, and Kev continued his mind reading. I should have shoved him in juvie when I caught him shoplifting at Steins, the cop thought as he gave Deke the glare.

Kev hung back and let Deke handle it. Deke was the one with all the charm and charisma, and could usually talk them both out of trouble in almost any circumstance. Kev was the one with the psychic secret he didn’t want anyone to know, and they tended to find out when Kev talked too much. Kev kept his mouth firmly shut.

“That music is way too loud,” the officer said, his voice an annoyed growl. “Are your parents home?”

Deke shook his head and made a motion with his hand for one of the others to turn off the stereo. The TV was suddenly audible and a woman’s chilling screams filled the room. Kev rolled his eyes at the bad timing.

“Sorry about that, officer,” Deke was saying. “We’ll be more careful to keep the noise down. Was it Mrs. Mercer across the street who called you?”

“I really couldn’t say,” the officer said as he jotted some notes down on his notebook. He stuck the notebook in his shirt pocket. “Just keep things quiet. We have a noise ordinance in this town.”

“Yes, sir,” Deke said, and Kev smiled at his sudden mental image of Deke with a halo over his head while he talked to the cops. He knew his friend’s tactics well.

The officers turned and walked down the front steps as Deke gently closed the door and locked it behind them, then turned to look at Kev while he wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead.

“That was trouble,” Deke said, leaning against the front door.

“No there’s more,” Kev said, certain he was right.

The phone rang, and Charlie Gibbs – the geek with glasses in their crowd – leaned over to pick up the receiver.

“Cline’s house of horrors,” Charlie said as the woman on the TV screamed again. Charlie listened for a second, then seemed to turn pale. He held the receiver out toward Kev. “It’s your mom,” he said with apology in his eyes.

Kev reluctantly took the phone. “Hi, mom.”

“Kevin, honey,” his mother said in her soft voice, “I’m just calling to check on you.”

Kev suppressed the deeply felt groan in his throat. He was sixteen, for Christ’s sake, not two. But to his mom, he was always her little boy. It drove him crazy.

“I’m fine, mom,” Kev said.

“You’re going to be home by twelve?” she asked for confirmation, even though he’d told her twice before he left home that he would be in by twelve.

“Yes, I’ll be home by twelve,” Kev said, despairing at her overprotective nature.

“OK, Kevin, hon,” his mother said. “Just don’t drink beer with Deke. You know what happened last time.”

Last time he’d puked his guts out and swore he’d never drink again. He shuddered slightly. “No, mom, I won’t. I’ll be home by twelve, I promise.”

“That’s great,” his mother said. “We’ll look for you at twelve.”

“Bye, mom,” Kev said, then thankfully handed the phone back to Charlie to hang it up.

“Yo, Cinderella,” Jeff, tall for his age with a head of thick black hair, teased Kev. It was an old joke. Kev gave him the finger and left it at that.

“Hey, look what I found!” Lisa called excitedly from the hallway. She walked into the living room with a Ouija board.

“No!” Kev shouted. Deke rushed toward Lisa, intending to put the thing away. The last time they’d used it when Kev was around, they’d raised a ghost that still occasionally banged doors in the kitchen late at night when Deke’s parents weren’t home. Deke was tired of the late night racket.

“Oh, come on,” Jeff said, going to Lisa’s defense. “What could a little Ouija board hurt?”

“You don’t want to know,” Kev said under his breath so the others couldn’t hear.

“It’ll be fun,” Lisa said excitedly. “Hey, Sue, help me out here.”

“I’d like to play,” Sue chimed in. Kev knew they were sunk. The girls usually got what they wanted.

Deke shrugged his shoulders and followed Lisa into the living room and watched her set up the game on the coffee table. Kev moved to the furthest corner and watched from there.

“I’m first,” Lisa said as she put her hands on the pointer. Everyone held their breath as the pointer slowly moved toward a letter on the board. There was a sudden bright flash above their head – a supernatural bright flash – and the girls screamed as everyone jumped back from the board. A key flashed into existence in the air and dropped to the board with a loud thump then bounced.

[edit on 8-9-2008 by AWingAndASigh]

Troublemakers Continued

There was dead silence for a moment. No one moved. Then the scramble toward the door started. It took about two minutes for the room to clear of panicked teenagers, leaving only Deke and Kev behind.

“I’ve gotta burn that thing,” Deke said as he looked at the board. He cautiously approached it and leaned to look at the key. “You know what I think this might go to?” he asked as he picked up the key and gave it a little toss in his hand.

“What?” Kev asked, curious.

“The old Geter place,” Deke said.

“The haunted house?” Kev said skeptically. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Deke said. “Can you think of any other key the Ouija board would flash into existence with you here?”

“The Geter place,” Kev agreed, seeing the logic in it. “Why do these things keep happening to me?”

Deke ignored Kev’s toss up of his hands and went to put on his jacket. “Get your coat, loser. We’re going to check it out.”

Now?” Kev said doubtfully.

“Why not now?” Deke asked as he watched Kev put on his coat. “We have time before midnight.”

Deke pulled his keys from his pocket and opened the front door, following Kev out into the front drive where his motorcycle was parked. Deke got on first, then Kev.

“Keep your hands off the bod,” Deke said as he started the bike.

“Like I would want to,” Kev said, putting his feet on the rear pegs of the bike. He grabbed the seat rest behind him for stability as Deke maneuvered the bike out onto the street.

The night was pitch black and covered over with clouds. The wind moved the leaf bare trees like bony fingers against the sky. Kev closed his eyes. This wasn’t going to be good. The ride lasted a bare five minutes, and Deke was pulling into the overgrown driveway of the Deter place. A neighborhood noticed a house where six people were murdered long after the crime. Everyone knew the Deter place. Everyone remembered the horrible murders. It’s probably why everyone said the place was haunted. The Victorian style of the house added to the general impression.

Deke got off the bike and turned to Kev. “Don’t just sit there like a lunk.”

Kev reluctantly got off the bike and followed Deke through the weeds to the front door. Deke put the key in the door, then grinned evilly when the key turned and he opened the door.

“Maybe I can convince my ghost to move down here,” Deke said hopefully as he stepped inside the front hall. Kev hunched his shoulders and followed. The prickly feeling on the back of his neck got stronger. Deke always got Kev into trouble.

Deke pulled a flashlight from his pocket, switched it on and moved forward. The shadows that clung to the edges of the room gave Kev the creeps. The place just didn’t feel right. He might even believe the rumors were true and the murdered family haunted the place.

“Keep up,” Deke snarled when he noticed that Kev had fallen behind. A moan seemed to rise up from the floor and fill the room.

“What was that?” Kev said, turning toward where he’d first heard the sound.

“House creaks,” Deke said, unmoved.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Kev said as he followed Deke up the stairs.

Deke stopped. “Really? Like maybe you feel ghosts creeps?”

“How the hell should I know?” Kev snapped.

“You’re the psychic,” Deke said.

“Don’t remind me,” Kev said. “Keep going. I don’t want to stand here all night.”

“Murders happened upstairs,” Deke grunted. “Might be something there.”

Deke continued up the stairs and turned into the first doorway on the landing. Kev was right behind him.

“Room’s empty,” Deke said.

Kev listened with what he called his psychic ear. Nothing. The place was quiet.

“Nothing here, Deke.”

“We’ll try the next one,” Deke said as he moved out of the room. Kev stepped into the next room and opened his psychic ear. For a second he thought he heard a child’s whimper, but it was so faint he decided he imagined it.

“Nothing,” Kev said, nudging Deke.

“Don’t push me, bro,” Deke said, moving down the hall. They went inside the last doorway on the landing.

“Get out of my house!” The voice screamed so loudly into Kev’s psychic ear that he jumped a foot and bumped into Deke. Deke dropped the flashlight and the light went out.

“Oh, crap,” Deke said.

“Someone’s here,” Kev said as the goosebumps rose on his arms.

“Oh, crap,” Deke repeated, his voice at a higher pitch from fright.

A white apparition rose from the floor, glowing with an eerie light in the pitch black room. Kev made a choking sound. Deke grabbed his arm, nearly crushing his wrist. The room became so chill that Kev knew his breath made fog in the air, even though it was so dark he couldn’t see it.

“Get out of my house!”

“Let’s get the crap out of here,” Kev screeched, unable to take his eyes off the apparition.

Deke bent down to grab the flashlight, but it eluded him. Kev grabbed him and dragged him back away from the glowing figure. “Forget the flashlight!”

Deke took the hint, turned and shoved Kev out of the room. The apparition appeared to follow them.

“It’s following us,” Deke said, his voice a squeek.

“Run!” Kev said, doing his best to fly down the stairs in the dark. Deke was right behind him. Kev shoved at the front door, trying to open it.

“I think I locked it,” Deke said, fumbling for the lock.

“How could you lock it?” Kev asked, pounding on his friend’s arm in his anxiety, fearing the entity was right behind them.

“Bad habit,” Deke said, his hands shaking as he finally managed to turn the bolt lock and open the door.

They raced onto the porch, slamming the front door behind them. Deke tossed the key onto the front porch, then shoved Kev toward the steps. Kev glanced over his shoulder and noticed an eerie glow in the front window.

“It’s still coming,” Kev panted as they raced toward the bike.

“Shut up and get on,” Deke said, trying to make his fingers work so he could start the engine.

“You always get me into trouble,” Kev said as Deke maneuvered the bike into the street and hit the gas.

“You and your itchy neck,” was Deke’s only reply.

Kev threw himself onto the couch in Deke’s front room as soon as they arrived. The woman’s screams from the TV they’d forgotten to turn off sent a shiver down his spine, and he grabbed the remote and flicked it off.

“Chicken,” Deke said as he walked into the living room with the beer he’d put on the kitchen counter earlier.

“Troublemaker,” Kev threw back at his friend.

“Charlatan,” Deke said, in good humor.

Kev rolled his eyes. Sometimes his best friend was a pain.

“Hey, my neck stopped itching,” Kev noted.

Deke tossed him a Pepsi. “Shut up and drink your coke.”

Kev put his feet up on the coffee table and did as he was told. He was done chasing ghosts.

I appreciate any comments or feedback. It's nice to know what people think when they read a story.

well what happens next damn it?!?

kewl story, it had me engrossed the whole way through

do you write them for a living?

the story you posted was as good as any short story ive read published, not sure about punctuation and grammer as mine sucks but i found it easy to read.

i love scarey movies, if expanded your story could make a cool movie or even submitted to one of those short film festivals.

thats just my opinion.

maybe change the title of this thread to Short Story- Troublemakers or something like that to get other members attention and get more opinions