TRIFECTA: Innocence Be Damned

It's been a couple of months since I have written a Trifecta Weekly Challenge prompt. The whole summer and month of September seemed to have slipped through my fingers. But now, we are beginning to slow down a little bit (quick, knock on wood). So I thought I would give this prompt a try. To remind you, Trifecta asks us to write a 33-333 word story while using the third definition of the word given. This week's word is: 

UNEASY
1: causing physical or mental discomfort
2: not easy : difficult
3: marked by lack of ease : awkward, embarrassed <gave an uneasy laugh>

Authors Note: The picture at the bottom of this post was created in http://picmonkey.com. They have a whole "Halloween" category right now with a ton of fun effects. I decided to play around with a picture I caught of my daughter one day. It sparked the inspiration for this story...and freaked me out a little. She's much cuter in person. 

Innocence Be Damned 

He walked through the deserted and decimated hallways. Rotting wooden beams exposed through disintegrating drywall allowed shadows to escape from their confines. The remnants of the teenage hotspot were littered along the tattered, mold stained carpet. The spine-tingling stories floated through the historic town, told on weekend ghost tours to the visitors that hoped to capture a misty laden specter through their lens.

But he knew better. These crypt-like corridors he walked through were a place of hallowed grounds. He knew he should have brought the bulky equipment with him. But lately, he felt constricted by it and less organic in the process. He had a feeling. A calling. Haunted by thoughts that lay dormant in the corners of his mind, he had to work through this himself. In search of her.

The girl was a presence like no other. She was an anomaly. A tale made up to scare misbehaving children straight.  Making contact with this wraith was your downfall. She’d invade your soul with her madness over her lost life. It’s told she waits in the shadows for the unsuspecting, hoping they would be her way to travel this world. Her wails  were dispersed through the crisp autumn winds mingling with the scraping of the fallen leaves as they were forcefully scattered across the ground. But he sensed her need for help, for guidance, for rest.  She called to him. And here he was answering. His open soul. Unprotected.

He trusted that they were just tales. The soul of a child could not be that malicious. And just as this thought entered his uneasy mind, the warmth around him drained. He swiveled cautiously, head buzzing and shadows dancing. An apparition appeared swiftly, quietly facing him. Her eyes fixed upon him. He couldn’t look away. His last lucid mentation was how he foolishly believed in the innocence of a child.