Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Wrong Move


            The basement of the antiques shop was jam packed with 15th century weaponry, clothes from the 1920’s, and a few super old board games that could be worth a few grand after four or five decades. I was looking for a chess set, or at least something that could be like a chess set. All I needed were some figurines to play as the pieces and something that could be the board. I wanted it to be unique and me. I didn’t want it to be something that someone else would be able to get if they had the right kind of currency. Yes, there are different forms of currency out in the world that can get someone something better than someone else’s currency. Some people prefer drugs to cash.
            Well, I got something unique alright. It was a rosewood Ouija board. All I would have to do once getting home would be to cut and glue it to the right size, proportion, and flip some of the pieces over so that the back would be the front and the front would be the back. I could make it checkered. I had picked out a bunch of figurines that at least shared something in common with the side they were going to be part of. The white side was mostly blue and white. They were Victorian men, women, dogs, and buildings. The black side had a more fairy tale theme. I found a werewolf figurine and I couldn’t part with it, so that was pretty much what nailed it in. I gave him a name as soon as I picked him up. I mean, when would you ever come across a werewolf figurine? That’s pretty freaking awesome!
            Placing everything on the Ouija board, I walked upstairs like a skilled waitress who would probably make a great plate balancer. The woman who rung me up made comments on each thing she typed into the cash register, making me feel confident in my purchases and looking forward to another visit. When she got to the Ouija board she realized that the planchette, that pointer thing, wasn’t there. She asked me why I didn’t want it, and I told her it wasn’t there when I was browsing around. Luckily, I told her I had some spares at home, because she had this sad and disappointed look that said, ‘I can’t sell this if a part is missing.’
            Once I got home, I made sure I had everything I would need to cut the board and glue it back together. I told one of my friends what I was planning to do, because she called right before I was about to go into surgery, and she said it was a bad idea. She was talking about spirits and demons and a whole lot of crazy ripping out of the board if I went through with it. I mean, c’mon. It’s not like I was actually going to use it to summon spirits or anything. It’s not like that stuff is real.
            At least that’s what I thought during the surgery. And afterwards I laughed a bit to myself and placed my little figurines in their proper places. I remember feeling so happy and proud of myself. I even booped the little werewolf figurine on the nose before running upstairs to take a shower. I really should have listened to my friend.
            I didn’t even reach the top step before I heard a growling noise, some screaming, some barking, some tinkling laughter, and the cracking of wood. Looking back on this part of my life, I feel like I was acting like one of those idiots in those horror movies who are told not to do something, but do it anyways because of how blind they are. And man, was I blind. If I were . . . still alive I . . . would . . . pro . . . ba . . . bly . . . be . . . leive . . . m . . .o . . .r . . .e . . .

            “We should probably stop playing now. This is getting creepy.” Lindsay croaked as she kept her fingers on the Ouija board, next to Bianca’s. They had gotten it out of the attic, something left over from the person who had lived there before them.
            “Stop being a baby. I know you’re moving it! Nice story by the way,” Bianca said as she ripped her hands from the board. “And there is no reason to believe in something that’s not real!”

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