Ponyboy was walking home from a track meet at school. His sweat glistened against the streetlights and the night breeze created an ominous atmosphere. Ponyboy was passing through a quiet street (although that could be because of the time) where most of the rundown houses were abandoned long ago. During the day, the street was eerie, and Ponyboy was only taking it because it was a short cut and all he wanted to do was crash on his bed.

When Ponyboy was about to pass another abandoned house, he froze after he caught movement in the corner of his eyes. He saw a familiar-looking figure swerve around a corner, disappearing behind the house.

"Two-Bit?" Ponyboy whispered to himself. He wondered why Two-Bit would be here, then realized that his eyes must have been playing tricks on him. Ponyboy was about to leave again, but was stopped when he saw the figure at a window on the second floor. The silhouette waved at him and he did a short wave back. So it was Two-Bit after all. He relaxed. The silhouette began waving for Ponyboy to come closer. With a shrug, Ponyboy walked towards the house.

The property was practically covered with towering weeds on the unkempt lawn. The house's paint was chipped and all of the windows were broken. The door as well as the first-floor windows were boarded up to prevent anyone from breaking in. God knows why Two-Bit wanted to enter the house.

Ponyboy rounded the corner. He didn't feel right about this. He felt like something bad was about to happen. There was a door in the back of the house that was left open. He pushed open the door, wincing at the agonizing creek. "Two-Bit?" he called out, but there was no answer.

The inside of the house was worse than the outside. The furniture was torn, tables were flipped over, and leaves and trash were thrown everywhere. As soon as he stepped inside, he almost recoiled back, nose scrunching up in disgust. It smelt like rotting flesh and mold.

"Two-Bit, you're going to have to come down here!" Ponyboy called out.

"Come up here!" answered a muffled voice that sounded foreign to my ears as well as some heavy footsteps. I passed it off and forced myself through the house, up the stairs and looked through each room until he found the one where he saw Two-Bit. The room was vacant.

Ponyboy walked in and looked out the window. Where was Two-Bit? The longer Ponyboy stood there, the more he felt in danger, like someone was watching him. His shoulder heated up like someone was about to touch his shoulder and he tensed up. Ponyboy spun around. Nobody was there.

"Two-Bit?" Ponyboy called out again.

"Over here!" the same muffled voice said, this time downstairs.

Ponyboy descended the stairs and looked around the house some more. It was empty. The only place that he didn't check was the basement.

"Two-Bit?"

"Down here!"

He did not want to go down there. The basement was a dark abyss where the rotten flesh smell came from. Ponyboy tried to flip on the lights, but, of course, there wasn't any electricity. Ponyboy should have headed back, but he was curious to why Two-Bit wanted him to go down there. He stepped on the first creaky step, then another, until he reached the cement bottom. He rounded the corner and saw light streaming down from the thin basement windows. He looked around and saw something on the ground. He warily came closer and saw that it was a deep red and glistened under the light. The sight made him sick to his stomach. The flesh seemed alive, but on an even closer examination, pushed the contents in Ponyboy's stomach out of his mouth. Maggots crawled all over the flesh, making it seem like it was moving. They squirmed and dug into the flesh. It made Ponyboy's skin crawl like they were digging into his body and creating colonies.

"Two-Bit?" Ponyboy called out weakly, scared out of his mind. He knew that the figure wasn't his friend, but he didn't want to believe otherwise. He spun around, about to bolt out of the basement when he saw a figure on a chair. Ponyboy didn't know why he approached the figure, but he did. The light from outside allowed him to see the still figure. Again he wanted to throw up. The figure wasn't alive. Sitting on the chair was a taxidermy human, eyes looking forward dully, and wearing torn clothes where a scar was visible.

Ponyboy backed up until he bumped into something. He turned around and saw another figure, probably the one he saw at the window, before he felt a sharp pain in his side. Ponyboy screamed in fear and pain as whatever entered his stomach pulled out. He held the spot and felt his warm blood against his palm. Before the man could attack again, Ponyboy, with all of his might, pushed the man down and ran up the stairs as fast as he could with the injury. He stumbled to the front door, but it was boarded up.

Pain erupted in his shoulder as the man was right behind him, and Ponyboy ran towards the back door, but that too was locked. The man must have locked it up when Ponyboy was upstairs. The man grabbed Ponyboy from behind and tried to pull him back, but Ponyboy bit the arm until he tasted blood. In a second, he was free and running to find something to get him outside. He quickly caught sight of a rock that was used to break a window before it was boarded up. Ponyboy grabbed it and swung it around, hitting the man in the head. He fell down and Ponyboy kicked the knife away and hit the man in the head with the rock again, knocking him out. He may have even killed the man, but he didn't want to stay behind and check.

Ponyboy ran to the door and hit the lock until it shattered, and escaped the house. He ran home and pushed open the door. Darry was waiting for him when he arrived and glared. "Where have you been? You were supposed—" Darry stopped as he took in the sight of the very injured greaser. "What happened? Soda, grab the first aid kit!"

"What's going on?" Soda asked, bounding in the living room, and freezing when he saw Ponyboy. "Ponyboy! What happened?"

"Get the first aid kit. We need to help him before he answers any questions."

"No, call the fuzz first. He's still there. I knocked him out." Ponyboy broke down, and removed his hand from his wound to wipe the tears away but only ended up smearing blood on himself. Everything that happened came crashing down on Ponyboy.

"Sit down. We need to treat your injuries. Soda will call afterwards."

Soda came rushing back and Darry ordered Ponyboy out of his drenched shirt. They gasped at the multiple knife wounds on his body, but Darry made sure that he cleaned and stitched them up. Soda called the police soon after and asked Ponyboy what the address was. Ponyboy didn't know, but he told what street he was on and what the house looked like. After calling in, Soda wrapped Ponyboy in a hug.

"It's okay, Pony, he's not going to hurt you anymore," Soda cooed, petting his head.

"What happened?" Darry asked.

After a long pause so that Ponyboy can recollect himself, he answered, "I was walking home from practice and decided to take a short cut. When I was walking on the street, I thought I saw Two-Bit go behind a house. After a moment, I saw him in the window, waving me to come inside."

"So you followed him in? Why did you do that? That was absolutely stupid."

"Darry…" Soda warned. "He couldn't have known better."

"He should have known to not enter an abandoned house."

"It was dark. He thought he saw Two-Bit. He thought it was safe. Continue, Ponyboy."

Ponyboy nodded, clutching his hands tightly. "I entered the house from the back door and went upstairs, but I couldn't find Two-Bit. I called out for him a couple of times, and got a response, so I went back downstairs. The voice was down in the basement, so eventually I did go down."

"Ponyboy…" Darry groaned, face-palming."

"In the basement, I saw something on the floor, and," Ponyboy swallowed his saliva, "it was flesh. Someone was murdered down there. I saw the body. It was stuffed."

The look of disgust passed both of their faces. Just thinking about the scene again made Ponyboy almost vomit again. He didn't want to continue the story, and luckily he didn't have to. Soda saw that Ponyboy was on the verge of passing out since he had lost a lot of blood. "Go to bed. You need to heal. I'm glad you came back safely," Soda said.

Without any complaints, Ponyboy went to his room, but, even though he was exhausted, he couldn't fall asleep. What had happened in the house made him scared of the dark. He feared the unknown that cloaks themselves the darkness. He feared the man that fled the house before the police arrived. Every time Ponyboy thought about the events that occurred the house, he felt relief. If he was caught, he would be sitting next to the other doll on the chair, flesh replaced with filling.

o-o-o

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.