Street Fight

Written for Fandango’s Story Starter #231.
Here’s my story, using Fandango’s line.

The candles flickered as Margeaux pressed her fingers to the Ouija board.

“Ronny, are you there?” she whispered.

My fiancé had died five weeks ago. Ronny had gotten involved with a dangerous street gang. One night just after Christmas, I begged him not to go out but he said he had to be his brothers. Something big was going down. That night there was a deadly fight. Ronny stabbed a guy from another gang …. just before he was killed.

Margeaux claimed she could reach Ronny, and in my grief, I’d been desperate enough to believe her. She repeated her question: “Ronny, are you there?”

The planchette trembled, then slid: Y-E-S.

“Ask him something only he would know,” Margeaux urged.

“Ronny, which song on one of our albums has a scratch?”

The planchette moved slowly: S-T-R

It stopped mid-word.

“Ronny?” I leaned forward. “Ronny, finish the answer.”

Nothing. The candles burned straight and still. Even the shadows seemed to hold their breath.

Margeauxv bristled. “Ronny’s not alone on the other side,” she whispered ominously.

“What do you mean …. ‘not alone’?” I tried once more. “Ronny, please.” Nothing.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the fight and Ronny killing someone; I suddenly became very frightened. This time, when he didn’t reply, I immediately thought “They’ve got him and now they’re coming for me.”

The room grew cold, not like a winter wind, but something deeper, something wrong. The planchette suddenly began moving again, wild and frantic, spelling nothing coherent, just letters tumbling over letters.

Margeaux yanked her hands away. “We need to close the circle. Now.”

And in the still, cold air of the room, something laughed.

NAR©2026
#FSS

This is “Street Fighting Man” by the Rolling Stones