Metal hearts

I walk briskly out of the Church Yard. That was one weird encounter in such a comforting place, I shouldn't down myself too much. After all, I was walking in a grave yard after dark...even the most stable minds can be fooled in a place of such culture and history. I dont intend to tell anyone because people say I'm weird enough, I'm all 'hippie-dippie' according to some people and i believe we shouldn't mess with the spirit world or at least let it come to us first. I was always that girl who would get all muddy and sit outside with her guitar playing green day songs in Autumn. I didn't care what they thought, still don't. I think the only thing that I genuinely enjoy is music. Everywhere I go I have my headphones in. I love so many bands but I have to say that, recently, I've been falling in love with Black Veil Brides. They are kinda heavy but compared to some of the death metal or hard-core bands I listen to, they aren't too bad. It's not just the music I enjoy, but I find the messages in their songs really relatable and life-saving.

Oops I'm fangirling over my best online friend's band, I forgot to say, this isn't just any old Andy I'm soon to meet. It's the legendary Andy Biersack.
How did this happen again? Oh yea, we were speaking on instagram after I expressed my views on one of my posts and he was saying how he agreed with me. We had a lot in common so we decided to talk on kik and then we kept talking, like friends. We even video chatted on Skype. I started to look at him as more of a friend than my favourite lead singer...it was the best thing I had ever experienced in my life.

I walk down a few dark lanes, allies, across the odd field and find myself at my new house. It was so beautiful: old, crumbling but full of the undeniable sweetness found in an old country house. My mum had come up a week ago to get things sorted and the outdoor light was on creating a path for me to follow under the star-lit sky. I knocked on the door. It was a great, bulky wooden mess that pointed at the top with an unmissable chunky metal door knocker that was a strain to lift. The knocks came out as three giant thuds.
I waited, my mum was partially death so this would be fun! It was past two minutes that the sudden creak of bending metal caused me to flip my head up in alarm. I realised it was only the complex lock on the door taking every scrap of energy it had to release the the bowing door from its awkward position. The turning of cogs caused the scraping of metal upon metal to cut through my ears like a blade and the sound of a mechanism breaking from pressure ended this hideous sequence.
"Lana!! I've been calling you!! Where have you been?" she screams
"Sorry mum I got caught in traffic with no signal. Calm it!"
Shes such a drama queen. She is worse than me at the age of four. This thought made me silently laugh to myself.
I look behind me catching a glimpse of a blue-ish glow above the horizon. A wisp of smoke perhaps? That's what I told myself, anyway.

I get lead to my room and lay down looking up at the pale violet ceiling. It'd be much better black I thought to myself and drifted off on top of my covers...

"Lana" all I see is a blurred kaleidoscope of warm colours that fades into the sickly paleness of a disgusting violet wall. What? Where am I?! I then remember everything...and try to relax. Must have been my imagination.
"Lana!" A raspy whisper stretched through the walls. They were brick walls. It was unlikely noise could escape them easily.
"Mum...?" I try to say but nothing but a petrified croak comes out.
"Listen to them, Lana" the voice kept going. I tried to do as instructed but I couldn't hear a thing. To what; listen to what!? Am I dreaming? But the more I started to question myself, the more cliche I sounded and the more I started to doubt the stability of my mind.
"They call for you Lana" why won't it stop? The voice kept repeating it, elevating after every word turning into a panicked scream of an older child. A hell, angry and unsettling stirring panic inside of me.
"THEY CRY FOR YOU LANA" The words got more harsh and disturbing, cutting my throat like knives with every exaggerated thud of my heart.
"THEY SCREAM FOR YOU LANA, GO TO THEM LANA. THEYLL KILL FOR YOU LANA. LISTEN TO THEM LANA. LISTEN." I start to cry and try to move but I physically can't. It's as if I am being held by my wrists and pulled at my feet. I need to answer, but how? I close my eyes and scrunched my forehead trying to reach these desperate spirits. I suffice the word I need and let it rise through my stomach, my throat and escape my innovating lips.
"Who?" I spit with anger, frustration and pain.


There is a long, eerie pause.




"The children."

Notes

I know where I'm going with this. It's gonna be a horror. Sorry!