Chapter 1: Reckless Youth

In the dead of night, five friends sat in a circle, in the living room of one of their homes. The lights throughout the house were turned off to provide a rather unsettling atmosphere. Only the burn of one hundred candles offered a soft light that kept the darkness at bay.

They were about to play ‘The Game of One Hundred Ghosts.’ The rules were simple; each one would take a turn telling a story, whether it be funny, mysterious, or frightening. The only requirement was that it needed to be strange. Once the story was finished, one candle would be put out, then the next story would be told. With each extinguished, it is said odd things would begin to happen as the darkness became denser. And once the final candle was blown out, well …

“I’m not good at telling stories,” Marcy complained in her timid way.

“You don’t need to be good,” Andy assured with the utmost confidence. “Just try coming up with your best. You can even tell a true story, if you want?”

“How are we even supposed to come up with a hundred stories?” Emily complained.

“We just try,” Andy accepted the challenge. “That’s the fun of it.”

“But—”

“Let’s just start already,” Mark interrupted Rachael before she could delay the game with questions.

“But—” Rachael tried to speak again.

“Let’s start!” Mark would not allow. “You’re just scared. Let’s! Be! Gin! Let’s! Be! Gin! No. More. Talking. Unless it’s a story.”

“If you’re so eager,” Emily, annoyed by his behavior, demanded of him, “Then you start.”

“Yes!” Mark blurted. “Alright, I’ve been thinking of this one for a while. Ready? …”

“Walking casually, you don’t feel the need to watch where you step. Then you hear a crunch beneath your feet. You look down. There is a very small man that you stepped on. His body is twisted and bloody. Bones poke through his skin. Guts have burst out and are smeared on the ground.”

“Gross.” Rachael frowned.

“That wasn’t even good,” Emily besmirched.

“Fine, Emily,” Mark took offense and the offensive, “Your turn.”

Emily scowled for being put on the spot. She had not been prepared. Even so, quick to think, she almost began. But—

“Don’t forget to blow out the candle,” Andy reminded.

“Right,” Mark had forgotten. He picked one up at random and extinguished the light.

“Can I begin now?” Emily harassed Mark for the delay.

“Better be good,” he expected.

She began …

“A man woke from a nap. Where he found himself was in complete darkness. His hands reached out to discover he was inside a box. Oh no. He had been buried alive.”

“That one really sucked,” Mark insulted with no mockery on his face which felt worse. It was like he was stating a fact, not just being mean.

“Shut up,” Emily said angrily to mask her embarrassment.

“I liked it,” Marcy complimented before a fight began. “Can I go next?”

Emily paused to calm herself, then picked up her candle and extinguished it before saying, “Go ahead.”

“Alright,” Marcy readied …

“Headphones play music, soft jazz, to help relax. But the relaxation begins to feel overwhelming. It starts with sleepy eyes and heavy yawns. Eventually, you close your eyes and pass away without realizing.”

“Poetic,” Andy admired. That was always Marcy. She blew out her candle.

“Well,” Mark proposed to Andy, “You spoke up, you go next.”

“Hmmm,” Andy smiled. “I got a good one …”

“A young man sits in his living room watching tv, pretending everything is alright. But, whenever the screen goes black, he can see, in the reflection, something standing behind him.”

Everybody felt a chill run down their spine.

“Welp,” Andy pronounced with a smile after blowing out his candle, “That leaves Rachael. I guess we have our order.”

“I don’t know if I can follow that,” Rachael felt uncertain of her storytelling skills, but nobody refuted her. She sighed and …

“A woman looked out her window and saw a shadow waiting on the street corner. Then there was a loud crash in the other room causing her to look away for just a moment. When she looked back, the shadow was gone. So concerned about where it might have vanished, she kept staring out the window. Didn’t even notice the person that just broke in.”

“That was really good,” Emily gave praise.

“You think so?” Rachael wondered with a grin because she wanted to be admired more.

“It was great,” Mark agreed, before weakening his own words, “Second best to Andy.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Rachael took the half compliment. “Your turn.” She blew out her candle before Mark started.

Mark …

“You’re standing at a four-way intersection and the Devil approaches you. He makes an offer for your soul. You decline, ask him how his day has been, and see if he wants a cigarette.”

“Another stupid one,” Emily insulted.

Mark blew out his candle then turned on her, “Well, time for your stupid one.”

Emily smirked, looking ready this time …

“The sickly, skinny man stood with pride.

‘Are you hungry?’ The kind stranger asked.

‘Yes,’ the man replied with superiority in his tone.

‘Say please and I’ll give you some,’ food was offered.

He chose to die instead.”

Mark seemed ready with a negative comment—

“I have a poem if that’s okay?” Marcy pushed for her turn before something rude could be said.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Andy assured.

Emily blew out her candle.

“Alright.” Marcy …

“The Writer’s Creed

Is a dangerous Seed

To despair it will Lead

Because there is a Need

To have people Read

So we will Bleed

For our ego must Feed”

“Because,” Marcy felt the need to explain the point of her story, “you know, that’s how it feels a lot of the time.”

“You’re talented,” Andy remarked. “I doubt anybody else could come up with a poem on the spot.”

“Definitely not Mark,” Emily threw a jab.

“Shut up,” Mark scoffed.

Marcy rubbed her hands together in her lap with happy embarrassment. “Thanks. Your turn. I bet you have another good one.” She blew out her candle.

“We’ll see.” Andy …

“While at home, someone asks you, ‘Could you please turn on the lights? It’s too dark to see.’ But you live alone.”

Everyone stared with wide eyes.

“They’re so short …” Mark began.

“… but are so freaky,” Emily finished.

“How do you do it?” Rachael added.

Andy shrugged.

“Well,” instead of dwelling for too long, Rachael started her story after the candle was blown out …

“Life can be stressful trying to maintain work, school, and relationships. Bosses, teachers, and even your parents keep screaming whenever you’re around. Then you remember that you died two weeks ago.”

“Was that supposed to be funny?” Mark was more amused than scared.

“I guess it was,” Rachael did not really attempt to do anything with the story other than tell it. She blew out her candle.

“If that’s the case,” Mark recalled, “My dad told me this one when I was a kid …”

“Theo walked up to the farmhouse with a question on his mind. Knocking three times, the owner answered, looking afraid.

Theo asked, ‘How come you have me standing in that field all day and night?’

She answered, ‘You’re a scarecrow. You shouldn’t be alive.’”

“Yeah,” Emily came in immediately with sass, “I wouldn’t have believed you came up with that story. But the real question is, did you really think that was funny? Because, if so, you have a creepy sense of humor.”

Mark blew out his candle without a care and casually eluded, “This is the eleventh candle. Wasn’t something supposed to happen after the first ten?”

“Maybe something did?” Andy raised their fear. “We just haven’t noticed yet because we’re having too much fun. You know, I don’t remember that coat hanging on that chair over there.”

Everyone looked but they could not tell exactly what was in the shadows. It was little more than some blob of darkness looming just out of sight. Could be something. But it was probably nothing. But then why was it moving? Or was that their imagination?

“Don’t do that,” Marcy begged.

“I’m just having fun,” Andy was the only one smiling genuinely at everybody else’s discomfort.

“Should we keep going?” Emily wondered.

“You’re not getting out of your turn,” Mark pressed.

“I wasn’t trying to get—” she cut herself off with a grumble. There was no point in coming up with an excuse. She just started …

“Screams echo in your head. They’re ear-piercing and painful. You say to yourself with joyful tears in your eyes, ‘I’m so happy you’re back,’ because...