Thunderland by Brandon Massey Read Free Book Online

The flames sputtered, created dancing phantoms on the walls, then steadied. Inhaling the pungent odor of hot wax and glancing at the Ouija on the bed, Jason found himself recalling those horror flicks in which evil spirits summoned by the Ouija invaded the world and wreaked terror on people’s lives. He told himself to cut it out. He was thinking like Shorty.
    But who would they be communicating with via the Ouija? A ghost? Something else?
    We only need answers, he thought. It doesn’t matter who—or what-gives them to us. We only need the truth.
    Shorty sat at Brains’s desk, on the other side of the room. Jason and Brains sat on the folding chairs, facing each other, their knees pressed together. Brains put the Ouija and the planchette on their laps. The letters faced Jason.
    “Do you know how to use this?” Brains said. “I’ve seen a ton of movies about it, so I’m pretty familiar with how it works.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if I really believe in it, but it’s a start.”
    “I’m cool,” Jason said. “I’ve seen a bunch of movies about it, too.”
    Brains nodded. He placed his fingertips on the planchette. Jason did the same. Stillness. The candle flames flickered, causing shadows to flutter like dark wings across the Ouija.
    A light sheen of sweat coated Jason’s face. The air was warm, thick with tension.
    Come on, Jason thought. Someone answer us. Help us.
    Another bout of silence ... then the planchette jerked.
    “Whoa,” Jason said. Wide-eyed, he watched the planchette twitch a few more times, slide haltingly for an inch or two, and then glide around the entire board, sail toward the center, and wind there in slow loops.
    It didn’t feel as if he and Brains guided the tripod; it seemed to be driven by invisible energy that he could feel tingling like static electricity on his fingertips. No wonder so many people were afraid of this thing.
    He glanced at Brains. Of course, Brains appeared calm. He no doubt had a scientific explanation for what they were witnessing. Brains watched the rotating pointer images of candle flames glimmering on his eyeglasses.
    “Let’s ask some test questions first,” Brains said. “Then we can get into the important stuff.”
    “Sounds good to me,” Jason said.
    “First question.” Brains focused on the planchette. “What is your name?”
    The pointer drifted toward the rows of letters, and slowly spelled a name.
    JIMMY.
    “Okay, Jimmy,” Brains said. “Question: How old is Jason?”
    13.
    “How old am I?” Brains said.
    14.
    “When is my birthday?” Jason said.
    JULY 19.
    “When is mine?” Brains said.
    MAY 5.
    “What’s my girlfriend’s name?” Jason said.
    MICHELLE.
    “What does my mother do for a living?” Brains said.
    TEACH.
    Amazing, Jason thought. All of the answers were correct. What was this thing, really?
    “He seems dependable to me,” Jason said. “You ready, Brains?”
    “Yeah,” Brains said. “Let’s start asking the real questions.”
    Jason concentrated on the planchette. It revolved in a lulling, hypnotic motion.
    “Who wrote remember on my bathroom mirror?”
    HE DID.
    “Who is ‘he’?” Brains said.
    STRANGER.
    “I know he’s a stranger,” Jason said. ‘We want to know his name. What is his name?”
    REMEMBER.
    “Remember?” Jason chewed his lip. “You’re telling me to remember his name?”
    YES.
    “Is that also why he wrote the same word on the mirror? Because he wants me to remember his name?” Jason said.
    YEs.
    “Can you tell us this person’s name?” Brains said.
    NO.
    “Why not?” Jason said.
    CANNOT.
    “That’s crazy.” Jason shook his head. “He wants me to remember his name, so he writes it on the mirror. Is this some kind of game to him?”
    YES.
    “What’s the point?” Brains said. ‘Why does Jason need to remember him?”
    HE IS COMING.
    Jason’s fingers trembled on the planchette. A feeling of unreality gripped him, as though he had been sucked into one of those horror