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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/spnsuperfan1 on 2024-11-01 00:20:15+00:00.

I just wanted to have a nice vacation getaway after fall midterms.

Instead? I’m crammed into a hot tiny space, barely able to breathe, trying not to pass out while typing this.

For reference, this all started when the girls trip we talked about in the group chat finally became a reality. You see my friends Callie, Genevieve, and I, Elenor (Ellie for short) are hardcore Halloween fans. Anything horror related, spooky, paranormal, you name it- we eat that shit up. Fall is our favorite time of year. So, as a reward for our hard academic work this semester and passing exams, the three of us saved up and pitched in for a trip to New Orleans, Louisiana. The most haunted city in the United States of America. The best part? Our trip would take place the week of Halloween.

Exciting right? Wrong.

It should’ve been, but it didn’t turn out that way. For me at least. I don’t know where my friends are or what they’re doing. All I can do is hope that they’re not stuck in the same sick and twisted game as me.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me explain.

Last night, the second night of our trip, some local told us about The Seeker’s Game. Our Air BnB was in the French Quarter which is home to Bourbon street, where the party never ends. We’d been bar hopping and partying all night dressed as the Powerpuff Girls. Callie was Blossom, Gen was Buttercup, and I was Bubbles.

It was pretty late in the night when we stumbled into this bar. It was mostly empty with just the three of us, the bartender, and The Local occupying the space.

After our first round of shots, Gen started lamenting about how she wanted to see something really spooky. We’d been on a couple ghost tours already, but nothing was really hitting the spot, ya know?

Callie and I agreed, clinking our shot glasses together before ordering another round of drinks. That’s when The Local stepped in.

“So you want to see something scary eh?” A Creole accented voice asked ominously from a booth in the corner.

The three of us gave each other “the look” before bursting out into a fit of giggles. We went back to drinking, brushing the man’s interruption off. Then he got up from his booth and started making his way towards us at the bar, a whiskey sour in hand.

The Local was an older, skinny black guy. He walked with a bamboo cane to help with his limp. One of his eyes was blind, a cataract causing his retina to look pale blue and clouded. A salty goatee cascaded down his chin in the shape of a V.

“You should play The Seeker’s game then.” He slammed his glass on the bar, causing the three of us to jump in fright. This garnered a little chuckle out of him as he took his seat on a barstool.

“T-the Seeker’s Game?” I asked, shakily taking a sip of my drink. He’d definitely grabbed our attention now. “What’s that?”

The Local grinned with a glimmer of mischief in his good eye. “Oh ho ho, Mon chéri! Do you really want to know? Because once you do, there’s no going back.”

Callie, Genevieve, and I looked at each other skeptically. Callie then answered his question with another question. “Would we be asking you if we didn’t?”

“Ha!” He drunkenly laughed, energetically banging the palm of his hand on the counter. “You three are fun, I like it!”

We responded with more nervous laughter. At that point he was starting to creep us out more than this game was supposed to.

The Local then threw his head back, gulping down his drink. “To play The Seeker’s Game you first have to call out to him. The Seeker will then extend an invitation out to you if he wishes to accept. The game begins when the invitation is received. Be warned though for he sets the perimeters. He picks the time. The only thing you have to do, is hide.”

“How do we call out to him?” Callie asked, chuckling under her breath. Clearly, she didn’t believe a word he said.

Gen finished what was in her glass, looking The Local over curiously. She tried and failed to conceal her intrigue. “Do we just say his name?”

“No, Mon chérie,” The Local innocently grinned. “A chant must be invoked so The Seeker can hear you. It goes: Seeker, Seeker, heed our call! With every breath, we hide and sprawl! Seeker, Seeker, heed our call! As shadows dance, let fate enthrall!”

He leapt off his seat, swaying his shoulders back and forth with his arms up in the air. He laughed a wicked laugh before saying, “Then you must gather around, holding hands, and shout to the heavens: We want to play the seekers game! We want to play the seekers game! We want to play the seekers game!”

When The Local was done with his display, he took a bow before getting back in his seat. Gen gave the man a weak pity applause.

“Okay…” Callie said, taking another shot. Needless to say, we were thoroughly freaked out. But, another round of drinks would fix that. “So, shat’s the prize if we win, do we get a wish or something?”

The local stiffened, giving her a serious look,“The prize? The prize is your life.”

“No fucking way,” I murmured into my shot glass. Gen and Callie gave each other “the look” again. They followed in my footsteps and consumed more alcohol.

“Like I said, once the game starts there’s no going back…” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, thanks for telling us about this scary game of yours,” I said, pulling out my wallet to pay. Genevieve and Callie followed, apparently on the same wavelength as me. “Consider us spooked.”

The Local tipped his imaginary hat at us. “Do have a Happy Halloween now,” he said, flashing a smile before hobbling back over to his booth.

We gave the man our final pleasantries before leaving the bar for the night.

“So should we do it?” Callie asked randomly as we walked down Burbon Street. By then some time had passed since our encounter with The Local. It was nearing almost four in the morning.

“Do what?” I responded, fiddling with my costume.

“Play The Seeker’s Game, duh!” Out of the three of us, Callie was the last person I expected to bring up playing the game.

Gen pulled out some chapstick from her purse and started applying it on her lips. “Sure, seems fun.”

“Uh, am I the only one that remembers him saying we could die?” I laughed, tightening my pigtails.

“Puh-lease!” Callie squealed. “It’s not real, Elenor, so there’s no harm in trying it.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic.

After looking around for a place with the perfect ambience, we landed on an old courtyard. A defunct fountain sat in the middle with vines covering it and some marble benches. The moonlight gave it an ethereal glow. We set our things down and started to chant.

“Seeker, Seeker, heed our call! With every breath, we hide and sprawl! Seeker, Seeker, heed our call! As shadows dance, let fate enthrall!”

Next we gathered in a circle and grabbed hands, mimicking The Local as we gyrated back and forth. We danced and spun around, having a little and had fun with it. Our raucous laughs filled the old courtyard.

“We want to play the seekers game! We want to play the seekers game! We want to play the seekers game!”

The three of us stood there waiting in silence for something to happen. After standing there for five minutes Gen and Callie snorted and started giggling like school girls. Nothing had happened.

But I felt weird. Too creeped out and too drunk. I voiced my thoughts to the group. My friends wanted to stay out a little longer, so I went back to the AirBnB early by myself. I bid the girls adieu and somehow managed to stumble back and right into bed.

Today, I woke up with a raging hangover around three in the afternoon. My first stop in the bathroom revealed I looked as bad as I felt. The hair in my pigtails were wiry, my makeup was running, and there was a stain of unknown origins on my blue dress.

My second stop was to the kitchen. There I brewed myself a fresh cup of coffee and downed about four aspirin. Groggily, I stumbled to the front door, wanting nothing more than to enjoy my morning cup of joe in one of the rocking chairs out on the porch. I wanted to take in the historic scenery and watch as people got ready to start Trick-or-treating.

A warm gulp of coffee slid down my throat as I stuck my hand out for the door handle. A swipe and a miss. I paused, the lip of my mug stopping just beneath my mouth, wisps of steam still floating off the hot beverage.

The doorknob was gone.

A deep breath then a step back. I must’ve been more out of it than I thought. After rubbing my eyes, I looked again.

Still no door handle. In its place was a patch of smooth wood painted white. Like there had never been a doorknob there at all.

I let out a disbelieving laugh. I’d try the glass sliding back doors next. The coffee mug just about slipped out of my hands. The plastic handle on the doors had been removed too.

Frantically, I searched every door in the house. This is when I discovered pretty much every other door still had its handle. Only the doors leading to the outside world seemed to be inopenable.

Okay, if I couldn’t leave through a door, I’d just have to crawl out a window. Imagine my surprise when I found that the windows we’d been able to open just the other day, were now one big pane of glass, unable to open. No biggie. Glass could be broken.

Honestly, I was bugging. Completely freaked out and feeling like a caged rabid animal. And caged rabid animals do crazy things when they’re scared.

The dining room table of our Air BnB had these fancy wicker chairs surrounding it. Th…

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