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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2181315
Rated: E · Fiction · Dark · #2181315
A strange phone call leads to a night of chaos.

The thunder applauds the lightning as it dances across the night sky.

Hello Moto, Hello Moto

"Hello."

Heavy breathing echoes through Brendon's cell phone.

"Hello?" Brendon repeats as the breathing continues.

He hangs up the phone.

Hello Moto, Hello Moto

"Hello?"

The heavy breathing reverberates through the phone once again.

"Who is this?" he asks pulling the phone from his ear.

It reads Blake.

"Blake, if this is a joke, it's not funny."

The heavy breathing continues, as Brendon hangs up the phone once again.

Hello Moto, Hello Moto

"Blake, stop playing on my fucking phone! I just got home and I want to relax," he screams, hanging the phone up noticing a shadow darken his front door glass.

"Blake, if this is you, I have nothing to say to you," screams Brendon, grabbing his phone from the sofa.

As he turns, the figure darts out of sight, the hallway again is flooded with street lights as a lively burst of lighting engulfs the night sky leaving the entire neighborhood in complete darkness.

Brendon, completely caught off guard, shakes his phone turning on the flashlight.

Hello Moto, Hello Moto

Frightened, Brendon drops his phone on the floor, he hits the floor to pick it up answering in one fail swoop.

"Hello?" he says with quivers in his voice.

"Hey, open the door. I just ran here and I am out of breath," Blake says, panting into the phone as Brendon looks up at him waving in.

Brendon stands walking quickly to the door. As he opens the door Blake spits up blood, holding his neck, falling directly upon Brendon trapping him.

Brendon's screams fade into the thunder applauding the lightning's dance across the night sky. A dark figure drops Blake's phone in the middle of the street.



© Copyright 2019 Victor L. Rolling Jr. (vick04041986 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2181315