Part of a series of student-submitted Halloween ghost stories.

WRITTEN BY Roselle Asunka // ILLUSTRATION BY Alex Sevastopoulos

“You’re being quiet.”

“No I’m not.”

“Now you talk?” I let my feet drag as I follow her down the path, casually flicking my flashlight on and off. “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything, maybe?”

“I didn’t want to go here.” 

“I didn’t want to go here.” She mocks me as the leaves under our feet start growing mushy and wet. Floating in small puddles of leftover rain, like an abandoned bowl of cereal. The barren trees towering above us claw at the sky, creaking and bending like–

“Jesus.” A branch falls right between us, stabbing and impaling the ground. 

“Are you scared?”

“No.”

“You sound scared.”

“I’m not.” I pocket my flashlight and wrench the branch out of the ground, pausing quietly before snapping it in half and handing the other half to her.

“What?”

“For protection.”

“What’s a stick gonna do?”

“Nature’s daggers.”

“I have pepper spray.”

“Oh.” I feel my face grow warm as I let the other half of the stick fall to the ground. I pat my pocket to assure myself that my almost dead phone and finicky flashlight are still there. “This was a stupid bet.”

“So you are scared.”

“Walk into the woods until we find something. There’s trees. We found something. Can we go back?”

“That’s not something.”

“Then what’s something?”

“That.” I stop walking, the sound of our footsteps ending sending an eerie quiet into the air. It’s a shed. No. It’s barely a shed. Dilapidated is a severe understatement. If a wind blew through it’d be nothing more than a pile of sticks and bricks.

“Well we found something. Can we leave?”

“Come on, we just looked at it. Live a little!”

“Fine.” She edges closer to the shed, her flashlight setting it aglow. An agitated squirrel pops out from under some steps and scurries off, and I shudder slightly at the sight. She gently pushes the door open, and it swings inward, creaking with two high pitched notes. 

“That’s odd.”

“What?” She motions me over and I warily move closer to the doorway. There was no floor, just a staircase that led into seemingly never-ending darkness. I shiver, and zip my jacket up.

“So should we go down?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Is that a yes?”

“No!”

“Come on.”

“No. Let’s go back. This isn’t fun.” She gives me a pitiful frown, grabbing my hand. She’s freezing.

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Oh.” She pulls her sleeve over her hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Can we please go in? Just for a minute. I swear.”
“… Fine.” She smiles, a little bit too widely for my comfort, and drags me behind her as we make our way into the shadows. I turn briefly as we descend, my eyes widening as I watch the door slam shut behind us. Another shiver ripples down my spine.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” She’s too engrossed in her ‘detective work’. I shake it off and continue down with her. I see a plume of dust rise from the light of her flashlight as we reach the bottom. I grab my own flashlight. I shine it over what was once pure darkness, and I spot cobweb covered boxes. It’s almost too many spiderwebs, like it came from those cans you buy for Halloween. I can hear her humming from across the room.

“Do you see anything?”

“No.”

“Okay…” I start shivering again. It’s gotten far too cold for being underground. I can feel my lips turning blue, and I gently blow hot air into my hands, rubbing them together.

“I think we should just go. There’s nothing around here.”

“Hello?”

“You’re not being funny.” I hear her humming again. It slowly but surely turns into a song.

“Ring around the rosie…” My phone starts buzzing. Someone’s calling me. I grab for my phone, and it clatters to the ground. “Shit.”

“Pocket full of posies…” I’m crawling around in the dust, feeling for my phone. “Couldn’t have picked a better time to die, huh flashlight?” I finally grab my phone and pick up the call.

She’s on the other end.

“Rosie? Rosie, where’d you go?”

“What?”

“Did you go without me?” I clutch my phone, as she keeps scolding me, looking around. I can see a ring of red rose petals circling me. And I’m its center.

“Ashes, Ashes…” The room groans and shakes, dust falling and coating my hair. I start to scream, and no sound comes out.

“We all fall down.”