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The Curse, Chapter Six

By Hawksign

Jeremy flew awake. He was laughing. Laughing hard. There was a tickling, a hard tickling arising from his stomach and he knew that what ever force had attacked him in the shower earlier was attacking him now.

There was little he could do. Rolling into a ball, rolling on to his stomach, wiggling from side to side or pulling his bedding over him didn't stop it. He grabbed his pillows and blankets and raced across his room to his wardrobe and pushed him self in to the back of it. Back into the piles of dirty laundry. He built a cacoon about himself to muffle his laughter so no body heard it and shrieked hysterically.

It was like some one had come up behind him and bear hugged him to them while probing his stomach with strong and sure fingers. The fingers of some one who knew how to tickle and tickle well.

The phantom tickling fingers never left his stomach region. They never migrated onto his ribs or into his arm pit or down to his feet. They just stayed in his stomach region sometimes squeezing with vicious gusto his soft sides. When this happened he laughed extremely hard. He pushed his pillow into the back wall of the wardrobe and his face into that and laughed deep laughter into it.

It seemed to like to spend a lot of time concentrating on the muscles either side of his navel. This would send Jeremy crazy with ticklishness but it liked to linger and torment this particular spot and all Jeremy could do was snigger through clenched teeth.

After around 15 minutes it stopped and cautiously Jeremy emerged from the depth of his wardrobe and saw his room turned inverted by the flashing of lightning as rain pelted his window with huge droplets. There was a huge flash and something caught the corner of Jeremy's eye. It happened again. The lightning reflected off of something in the mirror. Not the mirror itself.

Jeremy walked over to his mirror. It was a huge old full bodied mirror. He watched and the lightning flashed again and he saw it. It solidified. It was Marshall and Christopher reflected in his mirror but reflected in a really strange way.

The mirror was more like a television set. It projected an image that could not have been a reflection. It was also split so one side of the mirror showed one image and the other showed another. One side was Christopher's bed room and the other was Marshall's.

Christopher returned to his room and looked at the mirror that was also a portal. He knew that where ever he was mirrors didn't reflect , they showed what was happening back in the other world. He was in some place were mirrors were windows. He had come through a mirror here, which he thought was impossible. That meant that this had to be magic but Christopher didn't believe in that. Sure you played games with magic like Dungeons and Dragons or Guild Wars but it didn't exist in the real world.

Still it must if he was here and while he was the analytical mind Jeremy was the brains. He was the leader. He might know what to do. If only he could be contacted. It was then that the mirror shimmered and Jeremy and Marshall appeared reflected in it.

Marshall sat huddled on his bed, emerged in a cacoon of sadness. He had no idea what was going on. One minute he was entering his room next he was being ganged tickled and finally he seemed like a ghost. It was then that the small portable television in his room sprung to life.

This was strange the television hadn't operated in years but now it was showing a picture and there was Jeremy and Christopher.

Jeremy watched. He could see his friends and he realised that they could see him and that Christopher was trying to tell him something but he couldn't hear it. It was like watching a silent movie. Marshall kept reaching forward adjusting something. Jeremy recognised the locations. It was their bed rooms but it wasn't. It made no sense at all.

The mirror was a barrier that stopped communication. No matter what Christopher said he knew that Jeremy couldn't hear. Then he had an idea. The old kiddies walkie talkies they used to use. May be. May be they would allow communication. He grabbed one and showed it to the mirror. He hoped that they would both understand.

Jeremy watched as Christopher returned pointing and frantically shaking the walkie talkie but his eyes were also focussed past him to the strange things happening in the back ground. The darkness was oozing like oil and modelling itself into a familiar shape. The oily blackness took form. Like a twin with demented red on red eyes. Christopher was creeping up on Christopher and before the first Christopher knew it there were hands on his ribs tickling him to the floor.

A similar series of events were happening behind Marshall. Something was taking shape. It seemed to be that weirdo gym teacher who had only been in the school a few weeks. He was one Marshall like a rash tickling him to the floor and then with an ominous flash of lightning the visions were gone and the mirror just showed what mirrors were meant to show.

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