Snippets and Stories: (WtI) The Dead Boy (Pt. 1 of ?)

The Dead Boy by C.M.G

He lives under my bed, and in my closet
Sometimes I see him in the bottom of the old chipped cookie jar in the kitchen.
Yesternight, when this little poltergeist appeared, a tiny little thing he was and floating just above the ground as he ran, I spoke to him.
His footsteps were light, and he hugged into himself and the worn plush animal he always had in his arms, as if trying to escape notice. And he would've were it not for the slightest of ethereal glow that belied his preternatural presence in his otherwise very normal appearance.
He could almost pass off as a normal boy had it not been for that, and the slight translucence of his form.
But the moment my voice broke the silence of the night, did he whisk around, eyes large, and vanish. Fading out of existence.
I shuddered, an icy trickle down my spine though no winds blew.
And he was gone.
But he wasn't gone.
He couldn't leave.
He's tried. I would know.
Though what I knew not, were the shackles which chain him here. Bound to this forsaken place now forgotten.
Often when he isn't to be found by the jar, it was the large windows of my bedroom.
Even though I had moved some few years past, he never since spoken a word but that first night.
If only known more then, would I have stayed my tongue-

"-and given unto him what succor he beseech, a strange, but simple request then. The matter would've resolved quickly. Had I not been so foolish." drawled a voice that followed a storyteller's intonation, yet oddly laced with a bored monotone, "Bedtime, children."

Neiro let out a sulky huff, "Sy!"

A smile at the corner of the lips made him huff again. Esti and Ken were both grinning at their antics.

With a deft kick of his legs, Esti was on his feet and pulling Ken up with her, "It's alright Neiro." Her grin spread wider as her voice took on the dramatic, mocking Silas's archaic quirk, "The old man need must rest, and is wanting dearly for his pillow."

There was a snort as Neiro doubled over, and Ken shot her a horrified stare, apologizing profusely. Silas waved off the apology. It was all in good humor.

There would surely be likewise jests in repercussion, not tonight mayhaps, but the scale would even. It was worth the raised brow and smile it brought rather than the brunette's apathetic set visage anyhow.

Silas raised a brow in amusement and twined his hands together, propping them atop the desk and his chin on that. The gesture was returned with a cheeky smile that flashed teeth, "Indeed. If we're clear then hurry along, lest I be the one to tuck you into bed."

The innocent grin on his face widened and Ken paled, ushering Esti along. His twin had yet to see the straight jackets and he hadn't dare question what the man found use in them for.

Nonetheless he was not one to make idle threats, jests or not.

But Esti just laughed and let Ken pull him along with him as they bid the two flatmates goodnight.

Silas was still smiling, though it seemed a tad smug and sly as he caught Ken's gaze. At least, he thought it did. It was hard to tell where Silas was looking with those shades.

Ken shuddered, bewildering his concerned twin. The man was a monster.

As the night settled in with the darkening sky, and the veil of stars lifted and blinking, Neiro turned to Silas, "Sooooo."

Here it was. The tall man had anticipated this, but he still had to keep his back from stiffening as his flatmate turned his inquiring attention to him.

"I didn't know you read the story."

"Of course. It is written by one of the original 8 of the founders." a pause, and short man knew as not what occupied his screen that kept him, "He was a close acquaintance, one whom we shared many a cup over." The tik tak of keys resumed with an unobtrusive finality.

A subtle language that spoke its own. And one Silas was perfectly fluent in. The unspoken message, and this one emphasized that he didn't wish to elaborate nor continue with the conversation. But Neiro desired otherwise and pressed on, "Do you think it just a story?"

"What else could it be?" a jade eye directed its gaze towards him, hidden behind the stygian glass that veiled them, but Neiro knew his eyes had turned where his head had not.

"You know something."

Neiro opened his mouth but the other interjected, "And I don't wish to know."

He closed it.

"What's past is past, and there is no dwelling on it now."

Letters in the typical Times New Roman font stacked line after line across his screen as he worked, their unending trail abruptly cut off as arms found their way around his face.

Not his body, not his neck, his face.

"Neiro-"

"G' night Si!" came a playful voice, and the small arms gave him a last strong squeeze before their owner disappeared with a giggle down the hall.

The brunette groaned and stretched. Despite his lacking height, Neiro was astoundingly strong of body, and it still amazed him each and every time he as reminded of such.

The Dead boy--C.M.G.

What startled him more though, was how easily he had given tonight. If the albino wanted something it was nigh impossible to deter him from it, and more often than not the brunette had accustomed himself to conceding with a half-hearted scowl.

Checking to ensure the albino had busied himself with the mundane nightly ritual of hygiene, he tabbed out to a PDF.

It had been a long time since he had last heard the story of The Dead Boy. A story he knew by heart, for the words were the last memento of one now departed.

His gaze trailed down to a small sketch at the end of the PDF, sitting inconspicuously beside the familiar penning and concealed amidst the lines.

Silas closed the PDF and once more a consistent stream of black Times New Roman flowed across his screen, line by line.