on the old, uncomfortable bed in the infamous Grabber's basement you sit. eyes fixed on the ground, frown upon your lips. it's hard to imagine yourself getting out of here. the light of the moon through the single, small window mocks you. and, now, you are sure you are going crazy.

ghosts are trying to talk to you. or, 1 is. at first, the phone rang. you never picked it up. horrified it'd be the grabber, waiting to take advantage of your curiosity. then, there was a boy. his face unseen in the shadows, but his figure something akin to a nightmare.

and then, sitting here on the single mattress, he stood a few feet away from you. you refused to look at him, playing the childish game of: 'if i can't see him, he can't see me.'

however.. he just stood there. seemingly unaware of how frightening he looked. you only looked up at the sound of rustling, of movement. when you looked up at him, he was pointing at the phone. silence. and then..

ring.. ring.. ring!!

he wanted to speak with you.