Hidden Evil

Investigation and Research (Bradley)

I stayed with Braxton until he fell asleep. I returned home and planned my investigation for the next day. I didn't tell my mom what I was going to do. She always hated that house, and rightfully so. I have to do this; I need answers. I need closure. The next day, I got up early, grabbed my skateboard, and told my mom I was going to the skate park. I hate lying to my mom, but she doesn't need to know that I have involved myself with an evil house. I ride my skateboard down the sidewalk, and the familiar dark place soon appears over the top of the street. I skate up the walkway and hop off my board as I approach the steps. I took a step back and observed the front of the house. I saw the broken window where I had thrown the rock. I looked all around the front and back of the house. It looked the same as it did that night. I take a deep breath before going up the front stairs, each squeaking as I step on them. I stood in front of the front door, breathing heavily. I consider giving up and returning home, but I remind myself who I'm doing this for. I turn the doorknob, and sure enough, it's unlocked. I walked in and closed the door. The inside doesn't look scary during the daytime, but I still feel uneasy standing in it.

I sighed and walked around the first floor—my heart sank when I walked past the room where Max died. I blinked back tears as I looked around, looking for any clues that could give me a lead to figure out why everything happened. As I'm looking, I feel a breeze behind me. I quickly turned around, not seeing anyone there. However, I look at the ground and see a photo. I pick it up and look at it. Tears instantly fell down my cheeks. It was a photo of me, Max, and Braxton. It was when we went on spring break last year. Max kept this photo with him at all times. I fell to my knees, sobbing. I hugged the photograph close to me and let out screams of anguish. I look at the picture once more and notice something that scares me. Max's face is scratched out.

"What the hell?" I said, sniffling.

GET OUT! I heard a voice scream.

I nearly jumped out of my skin; it sounded so close. I jumped and ran out of the house. I ran into my house, ignoring my mother and her calls. I ran upstairs to my room and closed the door. I backed myself into a corner, where I curled up and cried. I heard a knock on the door before my mom came in.

"Sweetie," she said, wrapping me in a hug, "what's wrong?"

I couldn't keep it from her. I thought it would be easy, but today proved to be impossible.

"I went back to that house," I said, hiccuping.

"Why?" My mom asked me, her voice laced with concern.

"I'm trying to figure out why what happened happened."

I showed her the picture I had found.

"I found this."

I showed her the picture I had found.

"Max's face is scratched out," her voice fading.

I nodded.

"Sweetie," my mom began, "this is a sign you should never go back there. What if you or Braxton are killed next?"

"That's why I have to go back," I shouted too loudly, "I have to. I need answers. I have to know why that night happened. If I don't, I feel as if we'll die without knowing the truth."

"Bradley," my mom began, "I can't lose you."

"I know, mom," I sighed, "but I have to do this."

My mom sighs and kisses my head, hugging me close to her. I know the risks of messing with the spirit world, but I need answers. I deserve to know. It's the only thing that will help me understand it all.

That afternoon, I researched the house and communication with spirits. I remember Braxton mentioning a graveyard was taken down for the house to be built. There were articles about several murders that took place there. I sat on my bed with my laptop and scoured the internet for information on the house. The first article I found read, Local cemetery is torn down and replaced with a million-dollar home. As I read the article, I found out that almost my entire community petitioned against the building of the house. I continued reading and discovered that the people buried in the cemetery were children. However, the city rejected the petition and went ahead with the cemetery's demolition. I read a few more articles about the cemetery's demolition and how things went wrong instantly.

A beam falls and kills a worker, one article read. Defective tools injure three workers, another read. You'd think that with all those injuries and that death, that construction would stop; yet, here we are. I then researched the murders. It turns out that the owners were a coven of witches. The witches that lived here always did rituals that ended with murder-suicides.

"Thanks for the heads up about the witches, Braxy," I chuckled.

I sigh and shake my head, flipping my hair out of my face. I stretched out my arms before researching how to communicate with spirits. Each website had explicit warnings stating that things could go wrong if I didn't know what I was doing. The websites also mentioned the different tools used to communicate with spirits, including a spirit box and an ouija board. I decided to go with the spirit box as it seemed less intimidating than an ouija board. I also bought a crucifix, just in case. I would also need holy water, which is easily obtainable. I went ahead and purchased the spirit box and the crucifix. Now, I have to wait a couple of days until they arrive. In the meantime, I looked up Bible verses that help ward away evil spirits. I wrote them down in my notebook.

2 Timothy 48: The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory forever and ever. Amen.

Psalm 16:1: Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.

Genesis 50:20: You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.

Satisfied, I closed my notebook and my laptop. I stretched once more before lying down, cuddling with the teddy bear I'd had since I was little. I yawn and close my eyes, having one of my rare peaceful dreams before our world went to s**t. When Max was alive, we were happy.