《Purgatory: Ghoul》 Enter Thomas Jason tried to work saliva into his dry mouth. His hands shaking in the heat of the Southern California summer night. The crescent moon high in the sky. She should be here. Why didn¡¯t Helga come? Dammit. He looked over the empty field of Long Beach. Except for the distant oil derrick pumping away with a soft mechanical drone sha-shunk sha-shunk, he was alone. A sudden keen broke the quiet night. To Jason¡¯s left, scrambling from the oil derrick, he caught sight of a bestial form charging towards him. Partially on two legs, then loping like a wolf as it grew closer. ¡°Shit!¡± Jason swore, bolting towards the streetlights on Bellflower. Get to the light. It¡¯ll protect me. Get to the light. Only need a minute or two. Behind him, he heard the thump-thump-thump of bare feet pounding behind him. Don¡¯t look back. Jason¡¯s heart hammered harder and harder in his chest as he ran. Dammit, how did this happen? Fucking ghouls. He was twenty yards from the light, ten yards, five... ¡°I¡¯m going to eat you, Jason,¡± a harsh growl coming from behind him. Not a shout. Not a threat. It was a promise. ¡°I¡¯m going to eat you.¡± The howl went up, a keening howl that wasn¡¯t human, not something a living human could make. It was louder and closer and closer. Something slammed into Jason from behind. Jason and whatever struck him pitched forward, skidding into the pool of light from the closest streetlight. Coming to a rest on his side, he lashed out with his legs, kicking blindly. His heel connected with something, driving it back a few steps, allowing him to twist around and get a foot under him. Turned, he beheld the creature following him. A ghoul. The wretched creature loomed over Jason for a moment, hissing and glaring at him. Then it howled in pain, burned by the light of the artificial streetlight. Stoop yet muscular shouldered; a jaw far too large for its once living human skull was the first things Jason focused on. The flesh a dark grey hue as though some of the creature¡¯s skin had leeched up the tainted darkness of a corpse without a soul. A ghost made flesh by evil deeds. ¡°I¡¯m going to eat you, Jason,¡± the ghoul said again. Ducking fully from the pool of fabricated light, its eyes glinting like an animal in the reflected illumination. Jason recognized the wretched, inhuman voice. Thomas. The ghoul prowled outside the light, his jaws clacking together, reverberating in Jason¡¯s chest. Fumbling in his pants pocket with the sudden burst of adrenaline. Jason pulled out his revolver, fighting and losing, the shaking of his hands and the clenching of his guts. His lizard brain screaming at him to run. Run!Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°You think that will do anything to me?¡± Thomas asked, a cackle welling up from the bare, emaciated chest of the ¡°Salt and iron usually works,¡± Jason said, raising the revolver. Aiming for the chest, he fired at the ghoul three times. Each round knocking the ghoul back a step. For a moment, Jason felt a small burst of hope, thinking it worked. The ghoul was driven farther from the pool of yellowish white light. That hope died when Jason heard Thomas¡¯ cackling laugh. An inhuman coughing laugh making Jason¡¯s blood run cold. ¡°My turn,¡± Thomas said, one grime caked bare hand came up revealing long dirty claws, clicking the claws all together. At first, Jason noticed nothing. Then the light of the streetlamp flickered. Thomas smiled, clicking his claws faster, the sound grating on Jason¡¯s ears as the light flickered more and more, taking longer than a heartbeat to come back. The revolver hung useless at Jason¡¯s side. Biting his lower lip in defeat, he asked, ¡°What happened to you, Thomas?¡± ¡°I died.¡± In a mockery of a human grin, Thomas bared his teeth towards Jason. ¡°The Order¡ª¡± ¡°The Order? What did they ever do for me?¡± Jason realized that the sounds of the clicking intensified, chilling him more. The light of his streetlight was flickering more, yet, so did the other streetlights up and down Bellflower as far as he could see. ¡°The Order...Humanity itself is a disease!¡± Thomas continued. ¡°We will destroy it.¡± ¡°Who are we?¡± ¡°My friends and I,¡± Thomas said, spreading his arms, allowing the maddening clicking to stop for a moment. In answer, Jason heard several more screeches of more ghouls. ¡°Fuck it!¡± Jason fired again and again, sending the three more rounds made by the Order into the darkness towards Thomas. The salt and iron infused rounds stopped Thomas for a moment. ¡°Really?¡± Thomas hissed out. Then the clicking started again, the sound intensified as more claws added to it, growing louder and louder. The streetlamps flickered all around him, then burning out from both ends of the street. Darkness swallowing up more and more of Bellflower. ¡°Had to try. You know the Order.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t struggle. I will do this as a kindness, if you renounce the Order and join me.¡± Jason said nothing, only pulling out a silver dagger. He readied himself, staring at Thomas. ¡°Really, Jason?¡± ¡°Until Hell swallows my soul,¡± Jason intoned. Thomas grinned wider. ¡°That can happen.¡± The sound of clicking intensified tenfold. It throbbed in Jason¡¯s chest like a second heartbeat of bone. Looking to his left, then right, two, then three¡­five¡­then finally ten pairs of eyes emerged from the darkness. All reflecting the light from the lone surviving street lamp surrounding the wan pool of light. Dumbstruck, Jason turned to Thomas. ¡°How?¡± ¡°We are many¡­¡± Thomas started. ¡°¡­For we are Legion,¡± the chorus rang out around Jason and his singular pool of light and protection. Thomas stopped clicking his claws. A moment later, the street plunged into silence. The streetlight flickered out. For a moment, Jason only heard his own rasping breath in the darkness. A claw then tore into one of Jason¡¯s legs. He swiped outward and down, the dagger sinking into a body before the creature moved away. Another claw hit his exposed side. Jason clenched his jaw against the pain. Then they were atop him. The silver dagger he had stabbed into another ghoul¡¯s side, downing it. Two more took their place, devouring him, bit by fleshy wet bit. Camerons Wake Up Call
Cameron¡¯s body shot up, choking off. Scream. Confused, he rubbed at his eyes, looking at the alarm clock. He cocked his head, realizing it wasn¡¯t going off.
¡°What the hell? Ten minutes before the alarm?¡± He mumbled, still rubbing at his eyes. He realized an odd tingling slithered up and down his arms. Looking up, he realized Michelle stood over him with his arms phasing through her legs.
¡°Hey, glad you¡¯re up.¡± She smiled down at him. She spiked her dark brown mohawk up straight today, he noticed. There was also something about the look in her blue eyes. He didn¡¯t like it.
He let out a sigh as he pulled away from the ex-punk. ¡°Morning to you too, Michelle.¡±
¡°Did I disturb you?¡± she asked, sticking her tongue out.
¡°You¡¯re glad I¡¯m up? Why?¡± He looked at her, then realized his morning wood was very noticeable with only a thin sheet and his boxers on. Shutting his eyes, he tried to think about something else...anything other than Michelle leaning over him, her thin top hinting at her breasts. Well, that¡¯s not gonna work, he realized, seeing a montage of the various skimpy clothes she had mentally donned while staying with him for the past two years.
Finally, he did math in his head and was relieved when he felt himself relax.
¡°Needed to talk to you,¡± she said, her intense blue eyes looking at him.
When he moved on the bed, she slipped away from him.
¡°About what?¡± he asked, yawning, and moving to the edge of his bed. Scratching at his thick dark hair of matted bedhead. ¡°I still have ten minutes until I need to get up for school. Why wake me?¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t. You were having a nightmare.¡±
¡°Were you looking?¡±
She didn¡¯t answer for a second.
Cameron coughed. ¡°Michelle?¡±
She sighed. ¡°Told you I needed to talk to you. Yes, I was peeking.¡±
¡°Did you see what it was?¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t get that far. You were already waking when I touched your forehead. I pulled away. You screamed.¡±
¡°What did you see?¡±
¡°Nothing,¡± Michelle said. ¡°I promise.¡±
¡°Then what did you want to talk about?¡± Cameron asked, rolling his hand a few times to get her to continue. ¡°Spill it,¡± he added, seeing she was ignoring him.
She walked backwards a few steps, jumped up to sit cross-legged on the dresser. She settled between the two big piles of semi-clean clothes. ¡°Look, I think we should go back to that house, the Wainwright House, today. Early too, so you should skip school.¡±
¡°No. I can¡¯t miss any more school, Michelle. You know that,¡± he said, standing up while rubbing at his jaw. ¡°Already missed five days for ¡®mumps¡­¡¯¡± He didn¡¯t want to think more about the weird ghost that could punch him.
¡°Told you the ghost was a boxer. He did that all the time when he was alive. He could hit you.¡±
Cameron rubbed at his jaw and said nothing, just stared at Michelle for a minute while she gave him an innocent smile.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°Not missing another day of school.¡±
¡°Ugh, you and school.¡± She reached up to run a hand over the shaved part of her mohawk. The movement caused a slight tinkle of the ten bracelets on one arm. ¡°Come on, it¡¯ll be fun.¡± She gave him a wide smile. ¡°Please?¡± She asked, moving closer and letting her legs dangle over the dresser.
Cameron looked at her, squinting. ¡°Why are you so keen to go suddenly? Yesterday you said it bored you wanting to come back and watch that silly cartoon on YouTube again.¡±
¡°JEM and the Holograms is not silly!¡± Michelle said, her arms crossed. Her Mohawk grew an extra foot, the hair going from brown to a pale white, the color draining from her skin as well a little. Her eyes glowed with a blue fire.
¡°Michelle, relax. I¡¯m just curious.¡±
¡°I want you to say that it wasn¡¯t silly!¡±
Cameron actually took a step back. The force of Michelle¡¯s violent energy made his skin crawl. He licked his lips. ¡°Michelle¡­¡±
¡°What?¡± she asked, her teeth exposed in a snarl, her face draining more and more of any kind of hue.
¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Cameron said. ¡°You¡¯re right. JEM and the Holograms is great. And the new one can¡¯t hold a candle to the original.¡±
¡°Damn straight!¡± Michelle said. She then shook her head and her features and even her clothes darkened again. The black jeans jacket with a health amount of safety pins and patches that looked like it kept it together, along with her dark dungarees and green and black shirt coming back to the natural color.
More on edge, too. She has never gone spectral like that so fast.
¡°You sure you¡¯re ok?¡±
She was quiet for a moment. She looked down and Cameron thought she would just laugh it off. Instead, her voice was quiet as she said, ¡±I want to help you help other spirits move on,¡± she said, quiet and sad, her eyes gazing into the distance.
¡°Alright, let me think about it?¡± He asked, then let out a sigh.
¡°Radical!¡± she shouted, pumping a fist in the air.
Over two years, he¡¯d known her. She¡¯d never once wanted to go to any of the ghost sighting before. He¡¯d seen ghosts for years since he was seven. Since the time¡­He heard the rushing of the river and turned away from Michelle. He bit his bottom lip, pushing the memory away hard. Focus on the here and now, Cam, he said to himself. He knew he had to focus on when he had first helped one crossover.
Before he¡¯d met Michelle. Well, when he¡¯d met her, she hadn¡¯t glommed onto him yet. He¡¯d helped a young boy about the age of his younger sister crossover. He had seen Michelle when the boy crossed. And when he tried to wave to her, she turned and ran off. She had hung out around his house. And then, about a year ago, she appeared in his room.
¡°Why?¡± He asked, he thought there had to be another reason.
¡°Just curious,¡± she said. She grew more insubstantial for a breath. Cameron thought she was going to disappear to sulk. Like she does all the time.
¡°Want to see you work. I¡¯m getting¡ª¡±
While she stared off again, Cameron moved closer to the dresser, then pulled the top draw of his which passed through her legs.
She let out a small grunt of pain. ¡°Dammit Cameron, you know that fucking hurts!¡± She grabbed at her legs, leaping through the air to land alone on the bed, hovering and glaring.
¡°Sorry,¡± Cameron said.
¡°Not cool, man,¡± she said while hovering, her body growing more insubstantial. Cameron thought it was weird how ghosts could interact with some things, yet could still go through other things. Michelle said it had to do with the mind of a ghost, but that made little sense either.
¡°Then, don¡¯t sit there,¡± he said with a half-smile, pulling out a dark t-shirt and shut the dresser. He smiled at the logo of the Kool-Aid man breaking through a wall, yet he was full of green liquid and a tentacles face shouting ¡°Hey Cthul-Aid¡±. He pulled it on and looked at Michelle. ¡°What do you think?¡±
She turned away from him. He could hear her eyes rolling.
¡°Fine, be that way,¡± Cameron said. She is gonna disappear again. He looked at her, seeing the furniture and the door through her, though it was hard. He thought about pulling open the shades and let in more light, which would allow him to see through her even more. It didn¡¯t hurt her, not like solid objects did. Though she was reluctant to be in the open sunlight when he wasn¡¯t around. She said it made her feel ¡°more exposed to the world.¡±
Instead, she moved closer to him. ¡°Can we please go?¡± Michelle asked, turning around and giving him her puppy dog face.
¡°I hate when you use that face,¡± he said and shook his head. It was weird, seeing a thirty something ghost girl begging him to do something. Though she had been dead for almost twenty years, she looked as though she was just about twenty-one. Michelle had explained that it had to do with aging and death. ¡°Just because you die doesn¡¯t mean you stop aging. Unless you move on. It doesn¡¯t stop, but slows down,¡± she would say.
¡°So, we¡¯re going?¡± She asked, a bright smile on her face. Breakfast? Something¡¯s up. ¡°What¡¯s in it for you?¡± He asked. Michelle gave a sigh, her hair drooping to one side, turning a subtle shade of green. It flopped to her right, and she looked down, not quite at Jason. ¡°I-I want to help,¡± she said finally. He reached out and touched Michelle on the shoulder. Michelle was one of the few ghosts he could touch if he concentrated hard enough to focus his own ¡°spirit.¡± Touching her caused her to look right at him. ¡°Is that all?¡± He asked. Michelle was a bit of a troublemaker, but having her around was a comfort. If she wanted to help him, great. He needed to make sure the reason was on the up and up. A strange buzz started when he woke up, finding her standing over him. Something about today didn¡¯t feel right. She avoided looking at him for a heartbeat. ¡°I think that there might be someone else there, ok. Someone I might know and wanted to talk to. Alone.¡± ¡°Was that so hard?¡± Cameron asked, arching an eyebrow. ¡°Yes,¡± she said, then sneered, her hair rising a little before flopping again. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna ask who I¡¯m seeing?¡± ¡°Why should I ask? Not my business.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Michelle. Yeah, we can go before school. I¡¯m still going. We just gotta¡ª¡± Cameron swallowed hard ¡°¡ªskip breakfast.¡± There was a beat of silence between the two, staring at each other. ¡°Stacey¡¯s gonna hate that,¡± Michelle said, smirking at the coming entertainment. ¡°She¡¯s twelve! What¡¯s she gonna do to me?¡± Even though his heart was thumping harder in his chest.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°How dare you try to leave without breakfast!¡± Stacey shouted, slapping the counter with the metal spatula. Stacey glared up at Cameron, all four foot three of her slight frame. ¡°You¡¯re not leaving here without something in your stomach.¡± She then turned quickly scooped up three pieces of bacon with the spatula, slipping them easily onto a plate of napkins with a growing mound of crispy bacon. ¡°Besides, you are wasting away,¡± she said, slapping at his stomach. ¡°Stacey, I¡¯m fine.¡± Cameron grabbed his sister by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. He kissed the top of her dirty blonde head. ¡°I know. You think I¡¯m wasting away. I¡¯ll be ok. Here, I¡¯ll take some bacon, ok?¡± ¡°Annnnnnnnnnd?¡± she asked, a sniffle coming into her voice. She looked up at him with big brown eyes. ¡°What else ya taking?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll throw some orange juice in the thermos, ok?¡± She smiled. She petted his arm. ¡°Good boy,¡± she said with a smirk as she tuned back to the full open range stove with bacon, pancakes, sausages, and eggs for a squad of thirty people. There was a roar of laughter from his father, sitting behind a newspaper at the kitchen table. ¡°She has you trained well.¡± ¡°You¡¯re trained as well, pop.¡± His father, Derek, said nothing. Drooping the paper, he stuck his tongue out, then grabbed at the pile of bacon that Stacey brought to the table. ¡°But I also do what I¡¯m told for bacon.¡± Cameron shook his head as Stacey tried to bat her father¡¯s hand away. ¡°Wait until I get you coffee and your soy-bacon.¡± When she turned around, Derek made a disgusted face and Jason couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Obey yes, like it, no.¡± Derek said. Cameron filled his thermos with OJ, ignoring his father. He gave Michelle a head nod to head towards the garage. He had to be careful, even though it was easy to hide her, since no one saw her but Cameron. It still would look weird if he bobbed his head without a reason. The whole time, Michelle watched, fascinated. No-one else sensed her. Though when Michelle floated closer to the stove, Stacey trembled and looked around for a second. She then looked upward towards Michelle¡¯s face before shaking her head and moving the back on to the table. Cameron cocked an eyebrow at Michelle, who was looking at him with a confused look. Shaking it off, he grabbed the keys to his Accord and said, ¡°Be home for dinner,¡± he said, eyes darting to the garage. Once they were in the garage, he held the driver¡¯s door open and let Michelle float through the open door before he settled into the seat himself and started his car. ¡°You better!¡± Stacey screamed at him right before he turned the key. Evidence ¡°Fucking bloodbath,¡± Maggie muttered to herself upon seeing the blue tent that covered the body of Jason. Looking at the yellow caution tape, she ignored it and ducked under it. With the reek of blood and the rot of a ghoul¡¯s stench that they left behind for ages, anyone with even a finger in the supernatural world nearby would know something bad went down last night. ¡°What happened here?¡± She muttered to herself. ¡°Can I help you, ma¡¯am?¡± A baby-faced officer asked, standing on the other side of the yellow caution tape that cordoned off half of Bellflower Blvd., snarling traffic for half of the City of Long Beach. ¡°Ma¡¯am¡ª¡± Maggie stopped short. ¡°Ma¡¯am? I¡¯m twenty-five.¡± Giving him a hard glare, the patrolman balked a second. ¡°Alright, miss. Stay behind the--¡° Maggie rolled her eyes and flashed her wallet at him. The patrolman jerked back, then waved her through. ¡°Sorry detective.¡± Maggie smiled to herself. Have to thank Maurice for the perception paper. Worth more than its weight in gold. She didn¡¯t want to rely on it too heavily since she knew it could only go so far. The scene looked like it was ready to be opened again. Good, got here before it was too late. It was a still a mess. The body of Jason was gone, only the tape outline of his broken, torn body. Maggie bit back a tear. Fucking Thomas. How many does he have now? She pushed the thought aside as a woman in a CSI vest came up to her. ¡°You¡¯re gonna ruin the evidence here,¡± the CSI said, crossing her arms over her chest. ¡°Please. Torn apart. How hard for you to get forensics?¡± Maggie asked, gesturing around the scene. ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡± The CSI asked. ¡°I have eyes.¡± Maggie cocked an eyebrow, then pointed to the four separate places the body parts taped off. Moving past the CSI, she looked up at the streetlamp, noting the burned-out bulb. What happened? How was the light affected?Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Any idea what¡¯s wrong with this streetlamp?¡± ¡°Not just this one. Up and down the street, all are like this. Streetlamps aren¡¯t exactly high on the priority list of the city,¡± the CSI said, rolling her head and rubbing at her neck. ¡°Anything you need, detective? I¡¯m trying to¡ª¡± ¡°Go back to it, just giving the scene one last look.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± the CSI said, rolling her eyes. Maggie frowned, more to herself than the tech. Scanning the scene, she spotted a small pool of black that a tech was trying to collect. She moved closer to observe, then cursed when she realized what he was trying to collect. The black goop on the little collection tool wasn¡¯t ¡°Problems?¡± Maggie asked. ¡°Talk to my supervisor,¡± the male tech murmured. ¡°I don¡¯t do people.¡± Maggie knelt down next to the tech. The guy focused on the task, yet couldn¡¯t seem to get the stuff off. ¡°You need to be a bit more careful with that. It could--¡° ¡°Look lady, I¡¯m doing my job. Fuck off.¡± The tech then just shoved the utensil into the baggie, stood up and walked off muttering about, ¡°Not my day to deal with normals.¡± Maggie looked around, saw the tech was heading towards the female CSI whom Maggie had spoken with first. After taking a moment, they both walk closer. Maggie hated the fact she didn¡¯t have time to ground herself more and give a better reason for being here. All while she needed to break out magic on the sly. Holding her hand over the black ichor, she closed her eyes while opening her third eye. A confusing m¨¦lange of images, smells, sounds, and thoughts assaulted her in a massive barrage of sensations. Thomas, clicking his claws, making the streetlight die. Ten more ghouls, all converging, then killing Jason. Devouring the very essence of Jason. So, he¡¯s truly gone? The fetid stench of death and decay choked her, bile rising to the back of her throat. The keening howl of the ghouls as they lapped up the last of Jason¡¯s blood; each one growing a more corporeal from his blood. Fuck, he has a full pack now. What the fuck are we going to do? ¡°Lady, I don¡¯t care what kind of crackerjack badge you have. But you need to the fuck out of my crime scene. Comprende?¡± The CSI woman snapped, pulling Maggie from her vision. Maggie turned round, still shaken from her vision. She looked at the woman tech supervisor blankly at first before reality came slamming back to her. ¡°I¡¯m going!¡± Maggie said, walking away, drawing her hands into her pockets. Secreted in her right hand, a small ball of the ichor she had gathered. With a supreme amount of concentration, she could keep the little ball from touching her skin. She knew better than to let that happen. At least happen again. With some dexterity, she made the ball drop into a waiting glass vial. When she muttered a sealing spell. She felt herself growing weak, stopping at a trashcan. Taking a beat, she pulled the vial out enough to spy the summoned paper wrapping around the vial. ¡°Need to get this back to the Order to see what¡¯s going on,¡± she said to herself, then kept moving towards her parked car. The Wainwright House
¡°So we¡¯re headed to the house?¡± Michelle asked, a small smile on her translucent face.
Cameron looked at Michelle. They were close to the neighborhood with the Wainwright House. ¡°What about school?¡±
¡°Come on, what is one more day off?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°Schools boooorrriing.¡±
Cameron looked at her. ¡°What¡¯s your obsession with that place? It is¡ª¡±
¡°I just think that you can help the ghost, there¡¯s all,¡± Michelle said with a smile.
He rolled his eyes. He wanted to go back and see the kid Alfredo again. See if he could help him cross over this time. ¡°Fine.¡±
Steering his beat-up Hyundai towards the Wainwright House. It was a big old mansion, one that was always part of the neighborhood that everyone avoided. Even the ghosts, Cameron noticed, seeing one of the neighborhood ghosts wave at Cameron, yet turn away when he looked at the Wainwright House. Kids would dare each other to touch the doorbell or the doorknocker on Halloween, yet Cameron was always different. He knew what was in the house. He had talked to Alfredo more than once.
The ghost boy was lonely, is all, Cameron thought.
The last time Cameron went to talk to the kid, a sharp, dark spike of dread cut his time short. Something¡ªor someone¡ªfar darker was part of the Wainwright House. It was why he didn¡¯t see the young ghost much.
He knew Michelle was right. If he tried, Cameron could get that kid away from whatever malevolent energy existed in the house. Parking the car across the street and opening the door, he took in the dilapidated Wainwright House. A thick, dark wooden gable at the apex of the roof loomed down at Cameron and Michelle. He held open the car door for her. She thanked him with a thumbs up and said , ¡°Thanks, sweetie.¡±
He watched her cross the street, knowing that he would look a little funny talking to someone that only he could see. He followed her, trying not to stare at her butt in the tight jeans and the obviously sway she put with her hips. Not like he could do anything with her. Plus, there was age difference. He was seventeen, and she was thirty-five.
Enough. Keep to the task at hand.
The front door¡¯s hinges had rusted near shut long ago; however, the back door still had some give to it. He made sure no one saw him making his way to the back door. The last time he hadn¡¯t been as careful, and Mrs. Kowoliski had called the cops. Had it not been for pure luck, Cameron would be in jail instead of getting back into the house now, Cameron realized.
Standing in the shadow of the back door, the small porch covered by choking weeds along the trestles obscured him. The same dark spike of the same malevolent presences struck him. Somehow darker than before. An icy hand of fear gripped his very soul for a heartbeat.
¡°Don¡¯t know about this, Michelle.¡±
¡°Why not?¡± Sha asked, tilting her head down at him.
¡°Feels off. You¡¯re telling me you felt nothing?¡±
¡°No,¡± Michelle said after a beat. ¡°I¡¯m not like you. Not anymore, at least. I¡¯m just dead.¡± She gave a small laugh.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Cameron tried not to roll his eyes and reached for the knob. He wondered if anyone else was like him? He had heard of people ¡°speaking¡± to ghosts and spirits, yet when Cameron tried to track down two two people who claimed they could talk to the dead, he found them to be fakes. Worse, charlatans, taking money from those who only wanted to talk to their dead loved ones. He felt sick thinking of trying to capitalize on their gift.
Michelle waved her translucent hand in front of Cameron. ¡°Earth to Cameron, you there?¡±
¡°Yeah, sorry,¡± he said, shaking his head a little.
¡°Well, come on, you know how I feel about going through shit.¡±
Cameron sighed and looked at the door. He took the big doorknob, twisted it and pulled it open. There was a creak that made him wince, but then quickly slipped inside with Michelle. She hissed a little when he closed the door too fast.
¡°Sorry, don¡¯t want to get seen,¡± he muttered, looking back.
¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know,¡± she said, casually waving her hand. ¡°You didn¡¯t do it on purpose.¡±
Entering the kitchen, with pipes exposed, and walls shredded when people broke in to steal the copper wiring inside. The smell of mildew and decay was harsh and choking.
¡°Alright, you know where he is?¡± Michelle asked.
¡°No. You?¡± Cameron asked, trying to reach out but quailed at the darkness he felt in the old house.
¡°No, I¡¯ll go check out the basement. You check the second floor,¡± Michelle said.
¡°Sounds good.¡± Cameron moved through the short hallway, through the living room with its blankets, pizza boxes, other bits of garbage from homeless and teens using the place for a crash pad. Heading to the main staircase of the house in the foyer. Pausing for a moment, Camron marveled at the front room. He wondered what it would have looked like before vacated for over sixty years ago.
Once white marble strewn with trash and garbage from teens using the place as a crash pad. ¡°Using it for all kinds of illegal things,¡± Cameron heard Alfredo say, though Cameron wasn¡¯t sure the kid knew what the teens were doing. Though he spotted a few used condom wrappers with plenty of tossed beer cans and bottles. A few homeless used the place once and again, yet they never stayed very long if Alfredo didn¡¯t want them to. They left fast.
He plucked up his courage and headed up the stairs. The moment he moved up the stairs, a few pieces of trash rustled and move. A stiff breeze hit Cameron, stinking of garbage, rot, stale beer and vomit.
¡°Alfredo? It¡¯s me.¡±
Trash moved around faster, the wind quickly howling. An empty beer can hit Cameron on the shoulder.
¡°Come on, Alfredo, you know who it is,¡± Cameron said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry it took longer than I thought to get than I thought.¡±
More trash swirled around from the first and second floor. More and more of it cycling around Cameron, striking him in the shoulder and head. Suddenly, he heard the rattling of a bottle rolling across the floor. He spotted it as it leapt towards Cameron, flying straight for him. Ducking out of the way, the bottle exploding behind him in a shower of glass shrapnel that luckily didn¡¯t cut him.
¡°Fuck sakes Alfie, it¡¯s Cameron!¡±
The trash kept swirling around, yet stopping him as often. He continued up the steps. ¡° I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t come to see you sooner. Hey, I¡¯m here now! Counts for something, right?¡±
There was silence except for the rustling of the paper, empty beer cans, and bottles swirling around like a mini cyclone. Cameron thought he heard something, a shout. Focusing for a moment, he heard it more clearly.
¡°¡­said you¡¯d be back!¡±
When Cameron heard that, he also spotted a chunk of masonry hurtling towards him. It clipped Cameron on the shoulder and caused him to lose his footing. Cameron grabbed the banister, his stomach dropping when the wooden banister bowed out like it would break, before it stopped him from falling. Getting his legs under him, he continued to walk up the steps again, keeping a death grip on the banister.
¡°Alfie, I¡¯m sorry, man. Trust me, I wanted to come and see you.¡±
Closer to the top of the steps, seeing a six-foot tall cyclone of paper, trash, cans, and bottles obscured a figure inside. It was roughly the size of a ten-year-old boy, arms akimbo.
¡°Alfie, come on. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Cameron shouted over the noise A can hit him. Cameron grunted, dropping to one knee at the top of the stairs. He let out a held breath. ¡°Come on Alfie. I want to talk.¡±