For All Of Eternity (A Sally Creepypasta Fanfiction)

Chapter 12 - The Game Begins

Johnny immediately felt extremely uncomfortable, seeing that teddy bear that he had just set in his living room now sitting in the kitchen, watching him with pale blue eyes as they placed him under a sinister, corrupt gaze.
Johnny stands there for a moment, staring right back at that stuffed animal as his mind fell blank with immense shock and dread. Then, quickly, he walks over to it and picks it up. He didn't give it one last glance or another thought before he threw it into the trashcan and forcefully shut the lid.
None of this is possible! That stuffed animal shouldn't be able to move on its own! There must be some explanation, but what?
Johnny's mind spun with the possibilities, making his head hurt worse.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. Maybe he's hallucinating. He just needs more sleep. But he cannot rest easily when every time he closes his eyes, he sees himself smashing Sally's head against the trunk of a tree, over and over again.
The coffee machine beeped, causing him to jump. He kept glancing over at the trashcan, almost expecting the stuffed bear to push the lid up and peek at him.
No, that's crazy. Stop making yourself paranoid, Johnny.
Brushing a hand through his hair, he walks over and made his coffee. After adding in some cream and mixing it up, he took a nice long sip. The hot beverage burning his tongue kept him calm, it reminded him that this is all real.
Johnny pushed the thoughts of that teddy bear aside and walked back into his living room, then sat on the couch. He needs to relax. His guilty conscience is messing with his head. That's the only explanation for all of this.
He set his mug on the small table next to the couch and forced himself to relax.
As he did, Sally decided to crawl out from under the table and stood up. After she realized what the teddy bear was doing, she decided that it's time she starts her game.
She hurried across the hall and towards the stairs, then went up to the second floor. She didn't bother to be quiet about it; she wants to make him concerned, and start a good strike of fear and uncertainty. Unfortunately, she can't move very fast due to her hurting body, but she managed to hobble at a surprising speed up the stairs.
Johnny's eyes snapped open when he heard the soft padding of running feet within the house and up the stairs.
He immediately stood up and walked into the entranceway, looking up the staircase.
Is someone in his house? When and how did they get in? Is he being robbed?
After a moment of hesitation, Johnny began to silently climb up the stairs, staring with wide, cautious eyes. He slowly walks down the small corridor, but then he felt that familiar terrible sensation crawling up his back.
He swirls around only to see that same teddy bear sitting on the edge of the staircase, eyes focused right on the man.
Johnny's own eyes widened as fear struck him to his very core and he automatically ran to the first door nearest to him, then rushed in and slammed it shut behind him, locking it. The light is off, which didn't make him feel very safe, so he quickly turned it on to reveal the small bathroom.
He's alone in here. Johnny took a few deep breaths, trying to process what's happening.
How is that stuffed animal following him? He just threw it in the garbage! Could the bear be possessed? Is the house possessed? Maybe he should have looked more into about the previous owners.
Johnny shook himself. No way, don't start thinking the paranormal is real.
There must be an explanation for this. Maybe someone broke into his house, and without him looking, they sneak the stuffed bear around the place, making it look like it is following him.
Yes, that must be it.
Johnny reached for the sink, turned the nobs and let the water run. He cupped his hands under the faucet and then splashed the cold water onto his sweaty face.
He set his hands on the edges of the sink, allowing the water to run, hopefully to drown out his heartbeat. He breaths deeply and looks up to see his reflection in the mirror above the sink.
There are bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his eyelids droop slightly. His face is pale with fear and exhaustion, and his facial features seemed to sink under the pressure of weariness.
He exhales again and straightens up, shutting off the water and then he reached up to open the cupboards, grabbing a small towel. He closed it to reveal the mirror again and began to dry his face.
Johnny began to feel much calmer. Yes, his head is just getting to him. He's far too stressed out, he just needs to relax. There's nothing paranormal around here. He's being paranoid.
He put the towel down, only to see a reflection of Sally in the mirror, standing behind him. Her eyes met his with absolute hatred directed at him, stabbing him like mental daggers.
He gasped and spun around, but nothing is behind him. He glanced at the mirror again, then back. Nothing.
Was...that really Sally he saw? Her pink nightgown, her hair, her eyes...it's all familiar. But she was dirty and dripping with blood.
She was holding something too, but he didn't get a good look at it.
His mind must be playing tricks on him.
First that creepy teddy, then the footsteps, and now he's seeing his dead niece...the one he murdered. No, his mind is definitely messing with him. There's no such thing as ghosts, no such thing.
Johnny quickly exited the bathroom, turning off the light after him.
As he stepped out, closing the restroom door behind him, he heard the footsteps again, this time, running down the stairs.
He immediately looks over in that direction, now realizing the teddy is no longer there.
He hurries down the steps, desperate to find out who is in his house.
Johnny found himself in his living room, but no one is in there. He stood in the doorway, staring into the area. He held his breath and listened intently for a sound, any sound.
It was very, very silent for the longest minute.
Then, there was a giggle. A giggle that sounds like it came from a little girl.
Johnny's eyes darted towards the couch where the laughter emitted from. Someone is behind the couch.
Slowly, step by step, Johnny moved closer to the couch. He has to make sure that not even the sound of the floor creaking under his feet, or the shuffle of his legs, could be heard.
He set his hand on the edge of the couch, and then, in a fast motion, he looks behind it.
There's no one there. Nothing, except for that same teddy bear, staring at him.
His heart slammed frantically against his ribs and he stumbled away from the couch, almost expecting that bear to slide out from behind it to continue staring at Johnny.
But then he heard the doorbell ring. The sudden high-pictured, yet musical sound caused him to jolt in surprise. He swallows hard, stepping away from the couch, but kept an eye on it until he left the room.
He made his way to the front door, then opened it to see his brother standing there. Frank is slumped over a bit, his elbow pressed against the doorframe to keep his balance. His expression is weary, his eyes revealing a miserable, hopeless look. The bags under his eyes are dark, as if he hasn't slept in days. He's very thin; he hasn't been eating well. The smell of alcohol wafted around Johnny.
"Frank," Johnny said, relieved that it's his brother instead of facing some sort of hallucination, but then his eyebrows furrowed. "You got here quickly."
Frank nodded a bit, his head bobbled. "Uh-huh. Lemme come in...the police will be lookin' for me."
Johnny's eyes widened and he pulled Frank inside, then closed the door.
"That's what you get for driving drunk," Johnny told, but he isn't only just worried for his brother, but for himself too. Ever since the murder of his niece, he has not been very fond of the police. He doesn't want to give the slightest hint of his crime.
"You look...horrible," Johnny murmured, setting his hand on his brother's shoulder.
Sally peeked out from under that same table to see her father and uncle. Once she saw her father, her eyes widened. Crimson tears filled her eyes, filling her vision with a red haze. Right now, at this moment, she wants to cry and run into her father's arms. But she knows she can't, she shouldn't.
Frank shook his head a bit, almost losing his balance before he caught himself on the table, the same table his own daughter is hiding underneath. Johnny reached out to Frank, ready to catch him if he topples.
"I...I lost everything," Frank rasped, shaking his head again. "Sally, Maria, my home..."
Tears began to fill his eyes and one dripped down his face.
"My baby girl," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I lost my baby girl."
Sally allowed one bloody tear to fall down her cheek, wanting so much to reach out and hold him as she whispered, "Daddy..."
Johnny let his shoulders slump as he stared at his brother. There's the guilt again.
"I...don't have anywhere else to go," Frank slurred, letting his tears fall. "I feel sho-so alone."
Johnny set his hand on Frank's shoulder. "Come on, bud. I'll take you upstairs and you can lay down."
Frank didn't protest. In fact, he didn't say anything at all as Johnny led him up the stairs.
Sally wiped away her tears and took a deep, shaky breath. Can't cry now, she has a vengeance to settle.
She has to end this. Then, and only then, will she let her emotions spill. But right now, she needs to keep them in.
She soon heard the footsteps of Johnny walking back down the stairs.
He walks through the living room and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, and then headed back to the second floor.
He entered the room where he left his brother to rest. Frank is sitting on the bed, his head set in his hands.
Johnny handed the cup to him and Frank looked up. Tears fell from his eyes as he took the cup and gulped the cold water down, satisfying his quenched throat, but not really ridding him of this empty feeling.
"Now get some sleep, you need it," Johnny murmured softly, taking the empty cup and setting it on the bedside table. "Call me if you need anything."
Frank laid back on the bed, not even bothering to cover himself with the blanket or move into a comfortable position. He stares up at the ceiling with an expression that reveals complete despair and exhaustion.
"I'm tired, Johnny." Frank whispered brokenly.
"Then get some sleep," Johnny said softly as he shut the curtains so that the room was darker, which helped Frank's buzzing head a bit.
"You're gonna have a killer headache when you wake up," Johnny muttered, taking in on how intoxicated his brother is.
Frank didn't reply, so Johnny decided to leave him be. He left the room and shut the door quietly behind him. When he stepped out into the hallway, he realized now how silent his house is.
Then he remembered. The teddy bear, the footsteps, the giggle.
Johnny gritted his teeth, deep in thought. Is his new house really haunted? He had never truly believed in the existence of the supernatural, but with the situation he had only a few minutes ago, he's starting to question what he believes in.
But then he thought about it a bit more. That giggle, it sounded a lot like Sally's. He heard that giggle more times than he can count.
Is he losing it? Is his head getting to him? Is his guilt attacking his conscious to the point of driving him insane?
Johnny shook his head and began walking down the hall, then down the stairs.
But then he saw something on the floor, just within the doorway to his living room.
His eyebrows furrowed and he bent down to get a closer look.
A few droplets of scarlet are scattered along the wooden floor.
Johnny knelt down to take a closer look, and then he touched it with the tips of his fingers.
He lifts his fingers to his nose to sniff it, and was surprised when he discovered that it's the metallic smell of blood.
He felt even more confused. Is he bleeding? Or was Frank bleeding at all?
Johnny examined his arms, hands, felt around his face, but nothing. He doesn't remember Frank bleeding anywhere.
And if he remembered correctly, Frank wasn't standing in the doorway of his living room, even if he was bleeding.
Then where did the blood come from?
Johnny ran his hand through his hair and sighed heavily as he wiped the blood off on his jeans. Is someone playing pranks on him?
He decided to head to his kitchen and grab something to clean up the blood, but then he stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of his living room, his eyes widening.
On the wall, just above his couch that is now slathered in scarlet, are two words, written in red.
Let's play.
Johnny stared wide-eyed for a while, but then it hit him. Someone is definitely in his house.
He rushed from the living room and into the entrance hallway where the phone is. He picked it up, ready to call 911, but then he hesitated.
He doesn't want to know what would happen if the police came to his house, only to find out about his murder. How would Frank think of him? And Maria? Anyone? He especially doesn't want to be thrown in jail for God knows how long.
Johnny stared at the buttons on the phone. It shouldn't be too hard. If he is questioned again, he'll only deny it. Yes, that's good.
And if he wants to catch the bastard who is in his house, he needs to be quick.
He lifts the phone higher, just about to dial, but then he saw that the cord to the phone is cut.
Johnny's jaw dropped, but then he slammed the phone down. "Dammit!"
He turned around to head back into the living room, but then he saw the teddy again. It's on the floor just a few feet away from him, staring up at him with an intense glare. Yes, the stuffed animal seemed to be glaring at him now.
Johnny became more frustrated than afraid. He stomps over to the bear and kicks it roughly. The bear flew across the entrance and hit the wall, then bounced onto the floor, but it somehow managed to keep its eyes right on Johnny.
The man ignored it and turned away, heading back into his living room.
He stares at the blood-written words on his wall a few moments more. His couch has small spatters of blood on it, and he can see dirty footprints, as if someone has been climbing on it. Small footprints. That of a child's.
So, it's a kid playing a prank on him? When did a kid get in his house? How the hell did that happen?
Then there was a bright flash of light through his darkening house, followed by a heavy rumble of thunder. The clouds outside are dark, blocking out the remaining sunlight, leaving the small town beneath it in its shadows.
Soon, rain began to pour, pattering on the windows and the roofs. Another flash of lighting flickered through the sky and thunder rattled through Johnny's house.
That's when he felt he was being watched.
"Uncle Johnny..."
He immediately tensed up at the sickly-sweet voice that came from behind him. A horrifyingly familiar voice.
Johnny didn't want to turn around. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and wake up from this nightmare.
Yes, this is all just a dream! A twisted nightmare created from the guilt that's haunting his mind. He just needs to wake up!
However, he didn't wake up as he hoped to. This is really happening, whether or not he wanted to believe it.
Slowly and reluctantly, Johnny turned around. His hands are trembling and his knees are shaky, as if he could fall to them at any second.
His eyes widened when he saw who he never expected to see again.
Just several feet of him stood his niece.
Johnny mentally prayed that it's just an apparition, and he blinks several times, but she's still there, glaring at him with that same look he had only a glimpse off in the mirror. There's a knife covered in dried blood in one of her hands, and that teddy bear is in her other hand, also staring at him with resentment.
The two stared at each other for the longest of moments, and the silence was burdening until another loud boom and rumble of thunder ruptured that silence, and it seemed to force Johnny to snap out of his shock.
"N-No..." Johnny murmured, beginning to shake his head. "No, y-you...you're..."
"Dead?" Sally inquired sharply, her green eyes swirling with immense rage and hatred directed towards the man. "I know. You killed me, remember? As punishment for playing the 'game' wrong."
Johnny can't think, can't process what is happening. His mind spun, desperate for an answer, a sign of comfort, for some sort of reassurance, but there is none. This shouldn't even be possible!
Sally is dead! He's the one who killed her, he saw her die before his eyes two months ago! How is she standing there!?
His mind is frozen, unable to fathom what is happening. Not only because of shock and confusion, but also because of terror.
Sally smiled darkly when Johnny was speechless. "I don't think we finished playing."
She stepped forward, wobbling, but still standing strong.
Johnny can't move, he's immobilized by fear. He can't form words, and his eyes are glued to her gaze.
Sally stepped towards him again.

"Play with me, Uncle Johnny."