Daily Flash Fiction

We aren't supposed to be here

Dust motes danced in Steph's flashlight beam, illuminating forgotten toys in the eerie amusement park. "This place shouldn't exist," Phil whispered, his backpack heavy with unspoken warnings.

"Legend says it was demolished years ago," Steph replied, her voice tight in the vast emptiness. "But here we are."

The rusted Ferris wheel loomed ahead, a skeletal silhouette against the starry sky. As they crept closer, the metal groaned under their feet, a chilling counterpoint to the silence.

"We aren't supposed to be here," Phil said, his voice barely a murmur.

"Maybe not," Steph agreed, a shiver running down her spine. "But something here calls to me."

Drawn by a mix of curiosity and recklessness, they climbed into a creaky gondola, the city lights sparkling beneath them.

"Remember coming here as kids?" Steph asked, the silence pressing in.

"Sure," Phil replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Rollercoaster breakdowns, sticky cotton candy, the haunted house that scared the living daylights out of me."

A sudden gust of wind swept through the gondola, rattling the chains. An eerie melody, distorted and mournful, echoed from the depths of the park.

"What was that?" Phil's voice cracked.

The melody grew closer, accompanied by the chilling grin of a forgotten mascot, its paint peeling and eyes glowing red in the darkness.

Steph's breath hitched. "We aren't supposed to be here," she repeated, fear creeping into her voice.

The mascot tilted its head, its smile stretching wider. "Then why are you?"

The question hung heavy, unanswered. They were trespassers, lured by the echoes of laughter and memories, now facing the unknown consequences of venturing where they didn't belong. The amusement park wasn't just abandoned; it was haunted by their choices, and the darkness that followed.

WORD COUNT: 291 Words
WRITTEN FOR: "Winner for 2/10 and prompt for 2/11"  
PROMPT: Write a story that includes the line: “We aren’t supposed to be here.”