Free Haunted Things by Abigail Boyd Page B

it. Watching, and waiting. Now it's my turn."
    He takes another step into the room and I match it with a step back. He points the gun at me as he continues to chat. "You're so perfect—whiny, stereotypical, suicidal teen girl." He gestures to the scars on my arm. "All alone in a house where dark things happened. Destroyed by her mom's death, she feels like she can't go on, and ends it all. I didn't even know that part until tonight, but it's just—it's like everything fell into place better than I could have imagined."
    My horror morphs into anger. He thinks he knows me so completely. "You're fucked in the head."
    "And you're going to have a big hole in your head when I get done with you. So we're even."
    "Nobody will believe you. They'll know I didn't kill myself."
    "Bullshit," he hisses. He tips the gun barrel back to point at himself and I wince at how carelessly he's moving it around. "No one will even think of me. You don't even talk to your dad. He only met me once. If the cops come sniffing around, I'll say I felt bad for you. They'll chalk you up as one more tragic statistic."
    From over Oliver's shoulder, Seth steps into view in the hall. He puts a finger to his lips to silence me. I struggle not to look at him, but listen to him as Oliver continues to rant.
    "He can't see or hear me, Ash. But I will do anything I can to stop him. I'll see what I can do. Keep him talking." He steps back and disappears and that makes my rising panic flood up. I can't stop my eyes from bugging out.
    "What are you looking at?" Oliver snaps, twisting his head around and scanning the hallway.
    "Nothing." My brain scrambles for something to say. "I-I heard Seth used a rifle, what, you couldn't even get the same kind of gun?"
    Oliver chuckles, a twisted, humorless sound that hurts my ears, but I can see beads of sweat breaking out on his pimply forehead. "Yeah, well, time was an issue and I couldn't find one. It doesn't matter what kind of gun it is, anyway. Nobody even knows where he got that gun. This one I bought at a swap meet, the serial numbers were filed off and it's untraceable."
    "I think Seth would disagree with you. He'd say that it does matter, and you're doing a shitty job of imitating him." My stomach rolls in protest, telling me I'm pushing him too hard.
    "Is that so?" he erupts, clenching his fists. "You don't know a fucking thing about Seth Moss! I've studied his life for years. He wanted destruction, he wanted to bring the world down with his bare hands. Even his family, they only stood in his way."
    A loud bang resounds from across the hall. Oliver freezes, his face going pale. "Shit. What was that?" I expect him to pull me with him. Instead, he just points the gun at me and I wince, my knees knocking together. "Don't fucking move from this spot or I'll put a bullet in your face," he warns, then rushes across the hall alone.
    I don't waste time. I yank open the closet door quietly, looking for anything to use to knock him out. My heart leaps. The wooden bat is leaning against the wall. I scoop it up and tiptoe to where Oliver is standing in the master bedroom's doorway, looking for the source of the noise. I hold the bat high over my head. A floorboard creaks under my feet and I curse.
    Oliver begins to turn, but Seth appears in the bedroom, picks up a lamp, and lobs it across the room where it shatters.
    "What the—" Oliver swings around just as I bring the bat down. It hits him hard in the back of his skull and he goes down, yelling. I crack the bat down once more in the front and his eyes roll back into his head, his grip on the gun loosening. His head crashes back to the floor and his limbs go slack.
    Seth is suddenly right next to me and I jump.
    "Is he dead?" I ask.
    He frowns, his eyes fixed on Oliver. "No. Take the gun," he commands me, circling around and standing beside his body. I step on Oliver's hand carefully and pick the gun up gingerly by the back of the handle. It's heavier than it looks.
    "I know you