Day 15 of the 250 Word Prompt

"Three neighborhood teens watch quietly as a long black limo rolls to a stop in front of an abandoned house."

“Shhh,” came the command from Jamie, as he stilled himself and began listening intently to the world outside the abandoned house.  “Someone’s coming.”

A comical look came across Billy’s face; terror stricken with the all-too-familiar grin that always appeared at inappropriate moments.  Of course, he had the most to lose if they were caught – he had nipped his father’s favorite scotch from the liquor cabinet for the afternoon “smoke – n – joke” session.

Cooper moved toward the dirty, broken window in his version of stealth.  To his credit, he avoided knocking over the nearly imperceptible little round table covered in thick layers of age old dust.  “What the hell?  There is a limo outside,” he informed the other two boys, who stare at him in disbelief.  “Oh, crap!  People are coming in!”

The boys hastily put out the contraband cigarettes in the coffee can they had found in the kitchen of the home they currently used as their hangout.  The house had been abandoned for several years, and was rumored, as most old abandoned homes were, to be haunted by an angry past resident, shunned by the community.  The three boys had been coming to the house for years, and had never seen anything but mice and the occasional crow roaming the musty interior hallways.

The boys returned the scotch and nearly empty pack of cigarettes (Jamie would need to pilfer another pack from his mother’s secret stores) under the floor board in the second story bedroom they gathered in after school.  Creeping to the landing, they quickly, and as quietly as 15-year-old boys can be, tried to make it to the back door and their escape across the over grown weeds that defined the backyard.  As soon as they hit the ground floor, the blurred figures approaching the door send the boys scattering like rats to find hiding places.

The front door opens with a cliche squeak, and a short, round man enters, gesturing towards the front parlor.  A well-dressed, tall, thin woman in severely dark sunglasses enters, followed by an equally tall, well-dressed man.  “This location should suit your needs,” Short-round states, as he makes a slight bow in deference.  “I have held other séances here, with excellent results.”