*Chapter 6: The Last Laugh*
430 Words
Maxine’s collapse was the kind of scene you only expect in a bad horror movie—or your worst nightmare disguised as a school assembly.
She wasn’t just laughing; she was *trapped* in laughter.
Like her body had turned into a broken jack-in-the-box stuck on the “ha-ha-ha” setting.
The school nurse rushed over, trying to snap her out of it, but Maxine’s eyes stayed wide, wild, like she’d seen the universe’s ultimate punchline—and now it was torturing her.
---
Maya grabbed my arm, eyes blazing.
“We need to stop this—*now.*”
But how?
The laughter was no longer just a joke.
It was a weapon.
A parasite.
A ticking time bomb of giggles and horror.
I rubbed my temples.
“Okay, so we know the locker feeds on… what? Attention? Laughter?”
Maya nodded. “Yeah. And now it’s feeding *through* the laughter.”
“Like a parasite in a tick who’s inside a dog?” I suggested. “Gross.”
She gave me a look.
“We need to shut down the source.”
“The source = Locker 108,” I said, dreading it.
---
We snuck into school after hours, flashlights slicing through the darkness like samurai swords.
The hallway was silent. Too silent.
My heart hammered with every step toward the locker.
It sat there, innocent and ominous.
The paint peeling.
The handle gleaming like a trapdoor.
I reached out.
Then Maya stopped me.
“Wait.”
She pulled out a can of spray paint.
“Cover the smiley face.”
With shaky hands, I sprayed over the locker’s creepy grin.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, a low rumble filled the hallway.
The locker shuddered.
The door creaked open… just a c***k.
And from inside—
A *voice.*
Soft. Seductive. Twisted.
> “Why so serious, Derek? Let’s play one last game.”
My blood ran cold.
---
The locker door slammed shut.
And everything went *dead* silent.
No laughter. No whispers.
Just a heavy, oppressive quiet.
Then, Maya whispered,
“We made it mad.”
---
Suddenly, I heard it.
From inside my head.
A *joke.*
> “Why don’t skeletons fight each other?”
I shook my head.
“No… not now.”
> “Because they don’t have the guts.”
I groaned.
The joke kept repeating.
Like a broken record, scratching at my sanity.
---
We had no choice.
We had to face it.
The locker wasn’t just a haunted thing.
It was alive.
It was *hungry.*
And it was coming for me.
---
- Writer
