First story

Characters: Junhong/Zelo (only)

Genre: horror, school

Junhong woke up, he had a bitter taste in his mouth. Was it because of the morning that he has this iron like a taste. With an effort, he got out of his bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Junhong opened the door to the Bathroom and walked over to the mirror, he stared for a long time at the Junhong on the other side, red eyes, dark circles under his eyes, bad skin. Junhong closed his eyes and let out a long sigh before he opened his mouth. He looked and felt the inside of his mouth searching for blood, anything that is causing the bad iron taste. Nothing, just his tongue, and teeth, he grabbed for his toothbrush and toothpaste wanting to get rid of the bad taste. After cleaning up there was school.

The way back to his room felt so long and tiresome for Junhong that he wanted to lay back in bed and skip school for today.

Once Junhong stepped out his house, it was gray and gloomy outside. His red bike was waiting to be ridden by Junhong. The way to school went peacefully without any difficulties. The last time Junhong tried to go to school ended up him falling off his bike with the steering wheel in his hands and an open forehead. And before that, he fell off the stairs that only had 4 steps. A wall was standing for the stair so he came face to face with the solid wall and cracked his nose. And before that, out of the blue, a cat fell on his back from the second story of a building that he was walking by. As if that was not weird enough, the cat showed his irritation and anxiety before Junhong could, the animal left him with scratch and bite marks. This all was just not right and way too abnormal. Every week something specific would overcome him, every Monday, to be more precise. It’s been like this for almost a month now.

Junhong arrived at school. He felt the chills going up from his back all the way to his neck. He felt eyes watching him from a distance. Eyes not gentle, eyes that pushed Junhong back making him stop in his track. He looked around his surrounding and nothing else but students coming in for school. There wasn’t anything suspicious that has yet caught his eyes.

Once in class, Junhong slowly moved to his desk. The tall boy standing out among the other students spotted by his best buddy came running to him and formed a shield around him.

.

.

Today is Monday again Junhong, how do you feel my handsome lamppost. Said the boy with a sarcasm in his every spoken word.

.

.

Tired and sufficient about the accident that overcame me the last month. I’m thinking of finding out why these incidents keep happening to me and only on Mondays. Junhong was exhausted to talk to his friend.

.

.

That’s good, I’m happy that you are taking itHis friend tapped him on the shoulder and left with a satisfying grin on his face.serious now. If you need help, I am here for you bro.

.

.

Junhong made a list of the things that happened in the past month.

In total, he had three accidents,
he feels so tired for no reason,
he harshly can get up in the morning with this weird bad iron taste in his mouth,
and he has this haunted feeling creeping up,
getting worse every god given day.
And everything has a toll on Monday especially.

He titled it as The Monday Creep and closed the notepad.

Junhong got up and left his desk to go to the toilet to cool off his head. At that moment, someone was watching him leave heading to the door. Smoothly tiptoed near Junhong’s seat, scribbled some letters on his desk and left as if nothing ever happened.

Junhong was standing again looking at his own reflection in the mirror. It was the same as this morning - hollow and lifeless. He tried to wash it off but it’s no use, rubbing and palpating won’t help remove the darkness on his skin. He rinsed for the last time and lift his head one more time to face the mirror. Junhong shoots backward and lands on his bottom to what he saw. A dark figure with long hair and a small face looking directly at him and only him not taking off its eyes of Junhong. It was as real as that thing may pop out the mirror and hover over Junhong. But it didn’t move and stood still just as Junhong froze unable to move. It was petrifying yet he couldn’t look away, he felt if he did look away that thing might come down to him. Junhong holding his breath sitting on the floor hoping that that thing would disappear already. He didn’t have the straight to get up. The grave figure bobbed its head and the snow-white teeth became visible, it was grinning down at Junhong. But luck was on Junhong’s side. The door of the toilet opened and two students came in, for a second Junhong looked away from the mirror and was looking at the students. He quickly glanced back at the mirror, but that horrible thing was gone.

Junhong felt like breathing again and was relieved as he laughed it off. His hands were shivering and it did not stop. The two boy looked disgusted at Junhong who still was sitting on the floor. He got up and left the toilet. After getting back in the class all he wants to do was search as for why this is happening to him. He sat down, but his eyes caught something on his desk. Someone left him an anonymous note. ‘ BMR ‘ was written on his desk, the letters didn’t mean anything to Junhong. He thought that it must be some sort of a clue, so he wrote it down for later in the morning for the research.

The school was finally over and he hurried to the library. To his surprise, nothing happened up until now. It’s like a calm before the storm. Junhong started up a computer and logged in. He began his search by typing ‘ bad curses only on Mondays ’ in the search engine. He saw a link titled as ‘ The Black Monday Ritual ‘. he realized that the letters ‘ BMR ‘ correspond with the words in the title as in ‘B’ stands for Black, ‘M’ stand for Monday and ‘R’ stands for Ritual. He pressed and opened the link to an encyclopedia site known as wiksydicsy.aff

This is the page he clicked on

The horrifying similarities are huge and how can this be a hoax, it can’t be when the things happening to Junhong are so real. Junhong felt cold wind his back all the way up making the hair on his body stand up. He thought back at what had happened not long ago in the toilet, the thing he saw, the dark creature watching him and grinning at him from the other side of the mirror, what was that thing. Can it be if that creature was the inventor of the ‘ The Black Monday Ritual’ curse? This all was yet so fictional to Junhong, he pinched himself trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare but nothing happening.

Junhong felt that the part of the little girl her story was off and he read it again and again. The words were crafted into his mind from all the rereading. The girl is so random, the story is like a fill in for the nonsense jinx, like the big missing puzzle piece. Trying to make others think that such a curse exists.

Junhong got a little bit of an eerie feeling rising and slowed down with the things he was doing and eventually stopped, only looking at the white desktop screen that was reflecting in his eyes. He felt warm and moist air touching his neck and turned around. He felt his neck, trying to clean his neck but there was nothing, he was just alone in the library. Was it his imagination or could that thing be reappearing? Junhong hurried and shut down the computer, now it was dead silence. The air around Junhong was getting warmer and warmer, he got stuffy as sweat fell from his hair gliding over his skin so dripping on his school uniform. The thick air was working like toxic on his body making him physically heavy.

At the same time, a dark thing rose up out of nowhere and it formed like the shape of almost a human. It moves its way over to the panicking Junhong, who was trying to stay focused. He was about to pass out but got grabbed.

.

.

Junhong? What are you doing here alone? You look horrible, look at you sweating.

.

.

Junhong grabbed onto his soul before it left for the other side. But the grip of his friend was firm and he didn’t let go of Junhong. It burned where he was touched so he looked at his friend who was grinning hovering above him. It suddenly when pitched black. Junhong tried to free himself from the grip of the friend that was standing mid-air. His friend jerked him and tossed him to the close by standing bookcase and before Junhong could make out what was out on, his friend’s face was so close that he could hear him breathe and touch his skin.

.

.

Junhong-ha, today was your last day. Did you enjoy your last meal?

.

.

Junhong could barely talk or stay awake, he already was weak and there is no way he can escape with so little strength left. He leaned on the shelves to keep his balance and not sway. All Junhong managed was to whisper

.

.

What is happening and who are you?

.

.

Who am I you say? I gave you enough hints to guess who I am, or didn’t I?

.

.

You…. You are that little girl.

.

.

Yes and no. I’m impressed you almost had me, my friend. Actually, uuhhh I love it when the person who I am about to kill gets an explanation before dying, isn’t it nice of me to tell you your fate. The reason you are in this state is that I like your face and your body and nothing else.

.

.

What kind of fudge is that, don’t joke all of a sudden with me like this.

.

.

I’m not joking Junhong-ha, I just want your body for my collection. You know, that lady was my third item to my collection of bodies. The little girl my second, but you, you’ll be hundred and one so let us go and I’ll show you my first body. If you’ll remain obedient, I’ll let you see my own body, Junhong-ha. The origin of the whole story. 

.

.

Junhong closed his eyes rapidly and tried to push him off and with his last strength to scamper away. But it was of no use, he was grabbed by his throat this time. Junhong let out a small cry and loosened his body waiting for a miracle to happen as much as he lost all his hope. All Junhong wanted to do was just go back to sleep and wake up in his bed so he closed his eyes and dozed off.

.

.

.

.

.

The next morning, Junhong was sitting as usual in his chair. The teacher noticed him having a bandage around his head.

.

.

Junhong, what happened to your head?

.

.

Nothing sir, I hit my head when I was opening a cupboard. The corner of it.

.

.

Uhff, that must have hurt indeed. I’ll hear from you when you don’t feel well, alright.

.

.

Thank you, teacher.

Junhong grinned and leaned back in his chair. He whispered to himself.

.

.

Junhong already went away, far away. Forever.