Little Notebook of Horrors

I screamed at the top of my lungs, quickly shuffling back as I tried to get on my feet. The second I got up, I took off as fast as I possibly could, the only thing going through my mind being ‘survival’ and ‘what the fuck’.

I swung my apartment door open, stumbling out and racing down the stairs. I didn’t look back, only forward.

I reached the sidewalk in front of my apartment and gasped for air, my heart almost exploding out of my chest, and nervous beads of sweat breaking out all over my body.

I sat down on the side of the street, clenching my chest in an attempt to calm the storm brewing inside it. An awful feeling came over me and there was a pain flashing like electricity through my temples.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-“ I began hysterically whispering, rocking back and forth.

“Mister, are you all right?” A young woman’s voice appeared from behind me and a hand touched my shoulder. I bolted up in surprise, my head snapping back to the woman’s direction.

“Get away from me!” I screamed, expecting to find the boo-lookalike and instead finding a blonde with a kind expression on her face.

“S-Sorry-“ Her feet shuffled backwards a little before she shook her head and turned away, walking back into the building I assume she came from.

My eyebrows furrowed, my mind unable to distinguish fantasy from reality or focus on the matter at hand.

I gaped at my apartment building, studying it. Calculating an explanation for everything.

“Geraaaaaard~!” A cat-like voice called from above me, interrupting my thoughts. I froze, slowly lifting my head to where the noise was coming form.

I gasped, finding the boo-lookalike staring at me with wide, excited eyes from my apartment window, dry blood covering her chin.

She began banging on the window once she saw me looking in her direction, her smile widened.

“Geraaaaaaaaaaard~!!” She called again.

“Shit-“ I cursed under my breath. No. I know what this is. I'm being punked or something, this is all a stunt.
I bet Visillica Comics has some thing to do with it too. The girl I slept with is an employee from there; she has to be right? And she’s not dead! It’s all a stunt. I bet they’re even doing all this to say ‘Hey, just kidding! You’re not fired. Haha you shoulda seen your face!’ Right?

Yeah. That’s it.

I gulped, wiping away the nervous beads of sweat rolling down my neck.
I should get up there and tell them the jokes over and to go home.

What if this is real? A voice whispered to me from the depths of my conscious, striking fear in my heart.

“It’s not.” I grumbled. This wasn’t a very good joke now that I thought about it, how could you do this to a person? How do they expect someone to handle something like this? What if I had had a heart attack?

Where in the world did they find Boo’s doppelganger anyway? That whole ‘feed me gerard!’ shit was pretty convincing. I mean, where do they think of this stuff? Who planned this?

I began walking towards my apartment complex, my hand shaking as it reached for the door handle. With a deep breath I pushed the door open and began walking up the stairs.

“Stay calm. Just tell them you know what’s up and it’s time to go home.” I said to myself, trying to sound confident and failing.

What if there is actually a dead girl in my apartment. My conscious started talking to me again and I violently shook my head in protest.

“Shut up.” Before I knew it I was in front of my apartment, it seems I’d left the door open. I walked in, peering around the corners cautiously and closing the door behind me.

“Hey,” I said moderately loud. The room was quiet.

“H-Hey. The gigs up, come out.” I repeated.

“Hello?” The voice that came out of my mouth wasn’t one I recognized. It was quiet, and afraid. It was a voice I had no control over.

I swallowed the lump forming in the back of my throat and walked into the kitchen. The nameless girl was still lying lifelessly on the floor; leg missing. Was this a mannequin or something? I walked over to her and brushed her hair out of her face.

“Feels real..” I mumbled. Why go through all the trouble to create such a life-like prop? This stunt was going way too far.

I further examined the body, looking for any sign of fake qualities. It was eerie how realistic this was, the fact that the prop’s tattoos were almost exactly like the nameless girl’s was sending shivers down my spine.

The only strange thing was again, the lack of blood. You’d think if someone were going to fake a murder scene they’d have lots of blood. The body was drained, completely. Of anything, it made the scene look unbelievable.

I lifted her hair to look at her neck then dropped it almost simultaneously. There were hickeys. The same hickeys I’d placed there last night.

I stumbled back in shock, tripping over my feet and landing on my back. I rolled over on my side quickly because I could feel the bile forming in my throat.

I emptied the bitter liquid all over the kitchen floor. My head was pounding and I couldn’t stop gagging, it felt like a bad case of the flu. I looked back to the body, my eyes squinting from blurred vision and the tears streaming down my face.

“What the fuck…” I coughed up more bile trying to steady my brain flow for just five seconds to sort out my thoughts.

This body is real.

The words were swimming around my brain, making it swell and pound as if someone were hitting my skull with a mallet.

“Oh god, I have to get out of here.” I groaned in pain and gripped my stomach as I staggered out of the kitchen. I’d never had a weak stomach but this was too much. I felt like I was going into shock, this poor girl was dead, in my apartment.

And the murderer; was probably still in here. Was this still a joke? Was it some sick way to trip me out? Or was it planned, some kind of a hate crime?

“Show yourself!” I screamed. There was still silence throughout my apartment apart from the echo of my own voice. My head snapped from side to side, determined to catch movement or see someone.

When I turned my head to face forward something suddenly fell from the ceiling. At first I thought it could be the ceiling fan because it was so large and heavy, but then I remembered there’s not a fan in this room.

Then my vision focused and the boo-lookalike came into view. She was crouched on the floor in front of me. I stumbled back surprised, catching myself on the couch so I wouldn’t fall.

“Boo!” She jumped up playfully again, in return evoking a scream from me. She frowned at the response.

“W-w-what ARE you? You were on the fucking ceiling?!” I stammered. She shrugged; my jaw dropped.

“You made me. Shouldn’t you know?” Her head tilted like a curious puppy.

“Alright that’s enough. I’m calling the cops if you don’t start some explaining. This little joke has gone way too far.” I furrowed my eyebrows angrily.

“Joke? Did I say something funny?” She looked even more confused now.

“MY ONE-NIGHT STAND IS DEAD ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR.” I yelled at her.

“Yeah!” She nodded cheerily.

“YOU KILLED HER?”

“Yeah!” She repeated.

“WHY?!” I was screaming now.

“Because I was starving!”

“THEN EAT A FUCKING CHEESEBURGER WHY DID YOU KILL HER?”

“You know better than anyone why...” She grumbled; her eyes had shifted now.

“ENLIGHTEN ME.”

“Because you made me that way Gerard!” She pouted.

I groaned in frustration, my palm making contact with my forehead.
“What the fuck is going on,” I cursed under my breath.

Confusion was washing over me, none of this made any sense, and I was an extremely rational person.

“Who are you? How did you get into my apartment? Why are you here?” I shot the questions at her angrily.

“I’m Boo! You made me, and I think you’re supposed to tell me why I’m here.” She grinned cheekily.

“I DID NOT MAKE YOU! YOU CAME FROM SOMEWHERE AND SOMEONE HAS BRAINWASHED YOU INTO THINKING YOU’RE A COMIC BOOK CHARACTER!” I blew up this time. She simply blinked dumbfounded.

“I don't know where I came from. I came from you.” She frowned.

I groaned again, “You came from somewhere! And it’s not me!”

“Creatio ex Deo.” She spoke in perfect Latin.

“What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I barked.

“It’s where I came from. The notebook. This is all I know.”

My eyes suddenly widened and I stormed out of the room, running into my bedroom and retrieving the notebook. Those were definitely the words on the cover, but again, no sense has been made.

I stomped back into the living room and shoved the book in her face. “This? You came from this?”

All of a sudden she gasped as if she hadn’t breathed in years, “You need to put that away. How could you just have it out like this?!”

I raised an eyebrow, “Trying to change the subject, eh?”

“NO! You don’t understand Gerard, this needs to be hidden-“

“I'M CALLING THE POLICE!” I spurted. At this point I was really fed up, all I could think about was the body in my kitchen.

I turned away from her and went to grab the phone, but all of a sudden something flashed before my eyes and the phone was thrown across the room.

“H-How did you do that?” I gulped, she was now in front of me as if she hadn’t even moved.

She rolled her eyes, “I told you, you’re the one who’s supposed to know. You made me.” She stepped closer and wrapped her petite arms around my torso.

“I’m your creation.”

Notes

AAAAAH , I'm really really sorry for the super late update. Especially to Bold-Toxic whom I promised an update two days ago! I'M SORRY :c
And also sorry to the people reading my story Don't Stand So Close To Me , I'm hoping it'll be up and running again soon, please be patient, thanks so much loves .

On another note who else cried for hours about Fake Your Death? Man, mustering the will to play the track was intense. It was like 'this will be goodbye', I got so dramatic hahah
Stay strong killjoys!