A Night after playing the Ouija

You were feeling like shit, no doubt about it. The presentation you busted your ass on, the one in the Shopper's Behavior class didn't even make the grade. Another addition to your list of failed projects this semester. And let's not forget about the tasks you had hanging over your head, unfinished and way past their due date. What a pile of mess.

Right now, you were stuck in that mind-numbing Finance class, listening to Mr. Weber drone on about monthly earnings, spending, and taxes. Basic math, yes, but it was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

Usually, you'd plant your sorry ass in the middle row with your buddies, trying to inject some life into this snooze-fest. You'd listen to the lecture, take some half-assed notes, and chat with your buddies to pass the time. And Greg, your batshit crazy best friend, always had the wildest ideas. The heavier the subject, the crazier his head spun. But today, you had to step up your game. You weren't content with just passing Finance; you had to ace it. Imagine putting all your hopes in acing a course like this. It felt like it was a long shot.

Mr. Weber might not be a total stickler when it came to being social, but he had a serious hate-boner for tardiness and half-assed efforts. Show up late, and he'd rip you a new asshole. Half-ass it, and he'd make you wish you were never born.

To survive the relentless onslaught of the semester, you found yourself reluctantly planted among the nerds while seething with annoyance at the incessant chatter that your ears couldn't fucking help but pick up. The constant bickering had to echo from the back rows where the popular kids congregated, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

Speaking of the popular crowd, your twin sister, Taylor, was among them. It was a mindfuck to witness how much she had blossomed since high school. Your brain could easily memorize strategic spots in video games, but when it came to your sister's figure, you frequently found yourself lost at them. That hourglass shape of hers, those ample breasts and ass she shamelessly flaunted in her tight-fitting attire—it was hard not to take a quick peek. But of course, she was your flesh and blood, and you had to quickly avert your damn gaze before shit got weird. She never slapped you or anything for it, thankfully. But still, she was family. And boy, was she quite the party girl.

She was always a social butterfly. She had the gift of gab and the ability to effortlessly make friends. The party scene seemed to worship the ground she walked on, even after she graduated high school. Her well-endowed figure couldn't help but attract gazes from people in your year and even college seniors. It wasn't all doom and gloom though, because through her partying escapades, you gained valuable insights into college life, including course topics and the lecturers themselves. But deep down, you couldn't help but worry about the toll that the regular partying would take on her.

One thing was for damn sure—she was always drunk, sometimes even stoned, and relied on you to pick her up. While you got some useful intel on the popular people's hangout spots and living arrangements, which Greg was always curious about, your main concern was always on your twin's well-being. Lately, she had distanced herself from you, leaving you in the dark about her routine and making it harder for you to navigate this semester without her guidance. But you didn't want things to worsen between the two of you from your end.

Amidst the relentless bickering from the back rows, your ears perked up at snippets of conversation hinting at a party happening tonight. After class, you caught Taylor's blue eyes for a brief moment before she redirected her attention back to her friends. You scratched your head, shrugging off the thoughts on that, then made your way out of the classroom and leaving Greg and the rest of the gang behind. Your responsible ass knew you needed to find a peaceful environment to catch up on studies and finish the tasks. You refused to repeat any classes, and still believed that you could salvage this goddamn semester.

But back to your twin, you were still responsible to pick her up after the night's festivities. Usually, she would give you the exact location of the party, but given the recent tension between you two, you had to resort to contacting a few people to figure out where the hell it was going down tonight. Suddenly, a message popped up on your phone from an unknown number. "Is this Tim Summers? You need to pick up your sister, ASAP!" it read, sending a chill down your spine. Without wasting a damn second, you replied and headed straight to the given location, your mind filled with worry and anticipation.

You arrive at a lavish house, perched proudly on the hillside. It's one of those places where the rich, spoiled brats of the college elite gather to stroke their egos and show off their shallow lives. The security reluctantly lets you inside, probably doubting you as their eyes scanned from your top to bottom. Not that your getup was looking ready to party.

As you approached the door, Michelle, a chick from your year, opened the door for you. She gave you a quick direction, her voice sharp and urgent. "Upstairs, second door to your left!" You nod in gratitude, the urgency in her voice sparking your curiosity. With a sense of urgency, you make your way up the stairs, each step echoing in the silence.

Once you reach the top, you're met with a corridor lined with doors, left and right. It's like entering a damn maze, unsure of what's behind each one. Determined to find your twin, you contemplate storming through each damn door. Your instincts guide you to one particular door, you gathered your courage and give the finely carved door a powerful kick. The sound reverberates through the hallway like a gunshot, then a voice fills the room beyond. "And what could you possibly have to offer for a bargain?" The voice was blaring, deep and menacing, like something out of a freaking RPG game's final boss. Laughter follows, originating from the adjacent door to the left, making it clear where you needed to go.

Without hesitation, you approach that door and twist the handle. As it creaks open, a sinister sight unfolds before you. There she stands, Taylor, in her usual tight-fitting clothes as it showed her flat stomach, but her face...oh fuck, her face. She's grinning, her lips wickedly smiled with her pearly teeth. But it's her eyes that sent a chill down your spine. They're an unnatural vibrant red, a stark contrast to her usual sky blue irises. And what the actual fuck is up with that elongated tongue?

Your mind goes blank for a moment, all coherent thoughts fleeing your brain. "What the heck is going on??" you blurt out, unable to comprehend the freaky shit before you. Taylor's attention swiftly turns to you, that wicked smile widening, the earlier tongue pulled and shortening back to normal, as her red lips part. The door then abruptly swings open, your grip was weak with your attention to her filled with shudders, as a guy who was near it scurries away. The fully opened door thus revealing the rest of the party's attendees. The popular guys and gals, that was usually smug and proud huddled together, backs pressed against the wall, their faces filled with crippling fear.

Your attention couldn't help but get scared seeing Taylor like this, seething with malice that was way off her character. She could be wicked, sure, but it was with her straightforward pranks of hiding your stuff that was irritating compared to this demonic shit. As Taylor, the social butterfly, somehow became twisted, her mere presence sent shivers down everyone's spines. With your gaze fixed on her, your eyes shift downwards, only to reveal the source of the disturbance before you.

An Ouija board, that infamous thing made your focus alerted and heightened. The room felt heavy, suffocating with an otherworldly energy. The letters and symbols on the board seem to glow with an eerie intensity, taunting you with the unknown. It's like staring into the abyss itself, uncertainty and fear swirling within you.

"Looks like your rescue here got up to speed," acknowledgement came from that deep and menacing male voice from none other than Taylor. Her, or rather his words sent chills down your spine, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

Your gaze flicks between the popular students huddled in fear and Taylor, who is clearly possessed. You don't know which one is worse, the weak-willed herd of cowering sheep or this being that's taken hold of Taylor.

"You get out of Taylor, right now!" You yelled, while couldn't help but stole a second to stare to the cowardly crowd on your far right, disappointment washing over you. These fuckers are just standing there, too scared to do shit while their friend's body had been usurped by this otherworldly ****.

"How rude of you, I just got to the party..." 'She' said, still with that male voice that was way threatening and bold compared to your yelp earlier.

"Besides, unlike you, I was invited." He added, grinning as her finger pointed downwards, and you couldn't help but acknowledge the fucking Ouija board that caused this, taunting the shit out of you.

You still stood by the doorway without any clue on what to do, you then felt your pocket vibrating. You took your phone out and saw a recent message, "Please get her away from us! Please!" which was obviously what you and the rest needed to do. But how?

As 'she' continues to smile and laugh, you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowed with determination.