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  • Writer's pictureJeff South

Blogtober, Day 23

Word of the Day: Flight

Whatever was inside Leslie let loose a primordial scream, an awful piercing sound that dropped Marty and Buck to their knees. They writhed in pain until the wail subsided. They look at Leslie, who stood for a few seconds before falling to the floor in a heap. Marty rushed to his wife’s side and helped her to feet. He steadied her and eased her into a chair at the dining room table.

“What the hell?” She massaged her temples. “What happened? I have such a headache.”

“Marty.” Pastor Buck stood across from the couple. He paced from a couple of steps from side to side. “You have a choice to make now. Fight or flight.”

“Who is this man?” Leslie asked. “Marty, what’s going on?”

“He is a paranormal investigator, honey. I called him about the chair.”

Leslie rolled her eyes and tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t let her. Buck fetched a business card from his pocket and placed it in front of the annoyed Leslie.

“Your chair is possessed by the spirit of an entity named Terry.”

“So, what do we do?” Marty asked.

“I think Terry is protecting him or herself. We need to find out more about this chair. Where did you get it?”

“The flea market over on Elm,” Leslie replied, “but this is ridiculous. It’s just a chair.”

“It’s not.” Marty knelt next to Leslie, pleading with her. “Leslie, that thing is evil.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

A light above them blew and shards of bulb rained down on the table.

“Yes,” Marty said. “I do.”

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