Day 244: 5 Minute Freewrite: Wednesday - Prompt: Wood
5 minutes
Word prompt: wood
The Call: Part 2
"H-helllo??"- Victor's voice continued to shake. Still no answer on the other end.
Victor gasped as three loud knocks pounded on the door.
Who would that be at this time of night?
Victor opened the door to see Harold- who swiftly pushed aside Victor and walked in.
"Victor, my old friend--What the hell is wrong with you? Don't think I haven't noticed you looking at that weird clock and wooden chest by the fireplace all night. Your eyes even began to look more sunk in as the night went on. If I would have guessed I would assume you were a character in an Edgar Allan Poe story.
Victor had a quick laugh under his breath and replied back, "And you sound as if you have been reading too many mystery novels." Victor had missed bantering with his friend. It's been awhile.
"What's going on Victor? I've known you too long to not care-- or at the very least-- I'm way too curious now," said Harold, who looked exasperated.
"Honestly I'm not even sure myself. It's hard to explain but go ahead and take a look at that chest by the fireplace. Tell me what you see."
Harold locked his eyes on the chest and slowly walked toward it. "Strange. The carvings on the chest look different the closer I walk to it..." he mumbled. The cold air rolled in again and by the time Harold reached the chest, he could see his icy breath.
"Did you leave the windows open? " Harold asked Victor, but his amateur detective skills were solid enough to know the answer already.
Harold opened the chest to see old scrolls and various wood carved figurines. Before he could take full inventory of the contents he noticed the chest made a strange scratching noise as it shifted on the carpet. Harold turned over to see the bottom of the chest and what he saw shocked him to his core.
The bottom of the chest looked like it had been frantically scratched by a desperate madman who clawed strange shapes and symbols down to his bloody fingertips. Pieces of human nails were embedded in the chest, with spots of blood that looked dry and even fresh. It smelled of copper.
The phone began to ring. Harold looked over to Victor who's face looked even more distraught than ever.
"Are you going to answer it Victor?" asked Harold.
To be Continued.