Two down, three left.

The voice kick-oak.

You're going to lose the midnight game?

I ignored it.

I pulled up my phone and I checked for any messages.

Nothing.

I friendically began typing a text to my candle when out.

In my haste I relid it, I once again had to drop my knife and stole away my phone.

I'll relit a sharp noise from behind me, made me turn around.

I'll never forget what I saw.

It was Carlton.

His face gaunt and pale, his eyes sunk deep into his face.

His hair, white arms crossed over his body.

I blinked and surprised and began running towards him, willing myself not to scream his

name.

Carlton remained stock still as I wrapped my arms around him.

Careful not to burn him with my candle.

Then he spoke.

I felt my blood run cold.

It wasn't the voice of my friends in his kindergarten.

It was a hollow, distant, empty voice.

Larry?

...