Tag Archives: Paranormal

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 216

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 216

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 216

warning…adult content

***

After Jimmy had left for the station house, Terry and Kinsey started to clean up the glass shards left on the floor. “Here, I’ll help with the windows,” Terry said. Kinsey got out the broom and dustpan, and began sweeping. Terry went downstairs to find some cardboard boxes that beer had been delivered in. He cut some up to fit in the broken window.

“Guess that will do for now,” Kinsey said, shaking his head. “I’ll call the repair shop in the morning for another window pane to be put in.”

“Okay then, I’m heading home,” Terry said. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m turning in, too,” Kinsey said, as he went downstairs with Terry. He locked the back door, then headed back up to his apartment. First, he called Zach to let him know what had happened, and let him know he was staying at home now. Next, he fixed himself a snack, then went to bed. It seemed strange to try to sleep, in the late afternoon, but he was still sick and exhausted. Rest seemed the best medicine right now.

Jimmy got back to the police station, and filed his report of the crime, and put the brick and note into the evidence room. After more paperwork, he sent out an APB for every police headquarters from Missing Mile to the west coast. Someone would spot Maxy sooner or later.

~

Steve and Ghost had slept for several hours. Waking that late afternoon, they were hungry, so worked together in the kitchen to fix a meal.

“Something happened,” Ghost said. “I think it’s over at Kinsey’s”

Steve stopped chopping onions…”What do you mean?”

Ghost shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it wasn’t good. When Terry got to the club, he found something.  They all know about it, now…Terry, and Jimmy, and Kinsey. Maybe you could call them?” he asked.

“Yeah, I will after we eat,” Steve said. “If it was really important, they would have called us.”

He finished up cooking their supper of tacos, and they both sat down to eat. Spirit sat on the table, begging for slivers of cheese, which Ghost tossed to him now and again.

“Hey, Steve, what’s gonna happen next?”

“Next? Like when we finish eating, or farther down the road?” Steve asked.

Ghost looked puzzled. “What’s down the road? Are we going somewhere?”

“No…I just wanted to find out what you meant,” Steve said. “What we’ll be doing next, like tonight, or later on…next year?” he laughed, since it was almost next year, already.

“Oh…well, later I guess,” Ghost said. “I mean, there isn’t a show coming up, and we aren’t having a party, and we already did our CD and book…so, now what?”

“Good question,” Steve said. “I haven’t really thought of it much…just about Linda and her kids coming to live here. That will be so cool.”

“Yeah, that’s right…when?”

“She said after New Year’s she’d get things going. She’ll probably have to see if Lisa will come, too. Then, there is the kid’s school…maybe sell the house. It’ll take awhile before she can come,” Steve said. “Did you have something in mind you wanted to do, like a vacation, or work on another CD?”

“No, I didn’t know anything,” Ghost said. “But, I think we’ll be bored, so I want something to do, ya know.” He looked bored already.

Steve eyed him. “Bored already? Do you have to be doing something fantastic all the time?”

Ghost nodded, “Yeah, or I’m bored.”

Steve laughed, “Well, when you think of something, let me know, ’cause doing nothing sounds good to me.”

“But, I’m so tired of doing nothing,” Ghost whined. He got up and looked out the back door. “I don’t like this part of the days. It’s like it’s cold, then warm, then boring, because Christmas is over.”

“Ya want to go for a drive, or go shopping?”

“No, nothing sounds good or fun,” Ghost said.

“Well, Dude, I’m gonna go relax…maybe read, or take a nap. You’re on your own…figure it out,” Steve said. He went to the living room, got his book, and stretched out on the couch.

Ghost sighed. “I’m going to the graveyard. Maybe the guys will have a suggestion.”

“Okay, y’all have fun out there,” Steve said.

Ghost put on his old Army jacket, and striped scarf, just in case it got cold, then went out the back door. Trudging through the back yard, he watched Spirit bound ahead of him. Wherever the cat stopped, that’s where he would stop, too. Spirit was used to their favorite spot, so he did stop there. He leapt upon the crooked headstone, looked at Ghost, and meowed.

“Ya sure this is the place?” Ghost asked. He stroked Spirit’s soft fur, then sat down, leaning back against the cold granite marker. He knew the stories of all the Civil War dead out here…heard them talking all the time. This time maybe they’d say something different if he asked them a question.

To get in a better frame of mind, he pulled out the tin box he and Steve had hidden back behind the marker. It held a candle, matches, rolling papers, and weed. He took a few minutes to roll up a joint. He’d never had a whole one to himself, before…having always shared with Steve, but now…why not? He lit up.

Immediately, he could tell that this was some of Terry’s good stuff. He let the drug take over for awhile, just relaxing, and thinking of nothing special. As his mind drifted, he giggled at the thought, that here he was, still doing nothing, but feeling ok with it. He began talking out loud to himself about all they’d been through, lately. It had been a lot.

“We did our book, and CD…and we had a big show…that was fun.”  He smiled, remembering it. “And, Linda was here, and we were so nervous to see her, but she’s real nice. Then, there was that crap with Maxy and the cameras…God, I hope I never see him again.” He frowned, then shook it off, wanting to talk only about good times. “

“Steve liked the present I gave him…that Thunder-bird car is his baby. And, I love my ring.” He stopped and looked at it. He loved shiny things, and never wanted to take it off.  The smoke was finished, so he drifted some more. Half awake, half asleep, he asked the spirits what he should do next…not really expecting an answer.

Then, he sensed a strange message. He couldn’t tell if it was in his head, or out loud, that the spirit talked. “Oh, hell no!” he said out loud, as he sat up and looked around. “Who said that? That’s crazy. I’m not that bored,” he said, looking out into the shadows of the graveyard. But, the message kept pestering him. He heard over and over…”Dig us up…set us free.” He’d never heard anything like that, before, and it spooked him.

“Stop saying that,” he said, but then, he’d think…what if I did do it? Would it really set their spirits free…for real? He rolled over to look further into the cemetery, looking for any apparitions. His eyes sharpened, as he focused on a grave, way back in the shadows of the pine trees. A misty form was taking shape.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 215

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 215

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 215

warning…adult content

***

As the next morning dawned, it promised to be an almost spring-like day, which sometimes happens in the south. Ghost and Steve cuddled under the blankets for awhile, slowly waking, and talking in soft voices. Terry, had gotten up earlier, to make the coffee. He was now trying to make breakfast for everyone.

He saw that the refrigerator was fully stocked, and so was the pantry and cabinets. He had all manner of things to choose from. He’d really never bothered to look for anything in their house, besides beer, so was finding it interesting to snoop the guys stash of food. “So,” he said, “Steve and Ghost are just like everyone else…only they have more food than I have at my house…”

The coffee aroma brought Ghost and Steve into the kitchen. “What’cha doing?” Ghost asked, as he poured himself and Steve a mug.

Terry smiled. “Good morning, y’all. I’m just fixin’ us all something to eat.”

“In here?” Ghost asked.

“Yeah, it’s ok, isn’t it?” Terry stopped what he was doing. “I mean, if I should leave your stuff alone, just tell me.”

“Go ahead, Terry,” Ghost said. “I just never seen you cook before. It’s funny to see you in here doing that.”

Shrugging, Terry laughed, and said, “I cook…at home I do. I’m amazed at all the stuff y’all have here. I don’t ever have much to work with.”

“We went to Raleigh not long ago…got stocked up,” Steve said.

“Yeah, sometimes we run out, and there’s nothing but old bread,” Ghost said.

“Well, today I’m cooking, so y’all go drink your coffee, and don’t worry about it.” Terry tried to shoo them out of the kitchen.

“So, you’re feeling better?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I am…finally. How about y’all? Are we all gonna live, ya think?”

“Looks that way,” Steve laughed. “C’mon, Ghost…the man needs his space to create.”

The two of them went out front, and in a little while, Terry came out to let them know breakfast was ready. They filled their plates with the breakfast burritos, that Terry had put together.

“Well, guys, I’m feeling better, so I suppose I should go on back home today,” Terry said. “Can y’all make it ok without me, now?”

“Yeah, sure…we’re glad you stayed, and sorry you caught our crap, but yeah, we can survive now, I guess,” Steve said.

“I’m gonna miss your cooking,” Ghost said. “These are real good.”

“Thanks. Maybe I should have been a chef. I actually do like cooking, when I have interesting things to work with,” Terry said.

They finished eating, and took a second cup of coffee out to the front porch.

“It’s nice out here,” Terry said.

“Yeah, it’s nice until someone starts spying on ya,” Steve said. He explained all of what had been going on, to Terry…the hidden cameras, and Maxy, and Jimmy’s investigation. “We haven’t heard any more from him. Maybe I’ll give him a call later.”

~

Terry called Kinsey, to see how they were doing, and to let him know he was going back home.

“Well, Kinsey is still feeling bad,” Terry said. “Zach and Trevor are getting over it, though, and they’ll tend to Kinsey another day or so. I’m going to check on the club for him when I get back to town.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, give us a call when you can. I’m not doing anything but resting awhile longer.”

“Did we have anything planned for New Year’s” asked Ghost, “or did it already happen?”

“Nope, nothing was planned this year,” Steve said. “And, it’s not January yet.”

“Oh, okay…’cause I can’t remember so good yet, after being sick. I think I lost a bunch of days,” Ghost said. “And now the time is messed up again…it’s confusing me, and I was just starting to learn about those things.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve agreed. “I think we need to just do nothing awhile longer.”

Terry nodded, saying he planned on doing the same, when he got home…nothing. He got up to put away his coffee cup, and gathered up his things to take home. “Ya want me to talk to Jimmy for ya?” he asked.

“You can if you want to, but I think he said he was gonna be out of town,” Steve said.

“Well, maybe later then. I’m outta here, guys. Y’all take care, and call me if you need to,” Terry said, as he went out to his car. He turned the radio on to an oldies station, turned up the volume, and drove off down the dirt road. 

It was silent, then, out there on the old wooden porch. “I’m going back to bed,” Ghost said.

“Me too,” Steve said, as he followed him inside, and closed the door. Ghost picked up his journal and markers, and propped himself up in the bed to write awhile. Steve did the dishes, then joined Ghost in bed. He lay there, trying to quiet his mind of all the swirling thoughts…about the spy cameras, and putting Maxy in prison, and of the weirdness in the air. Then he wondered how it would be when his sister moved here to Missing Mile.

The soft scratching sound of Ghost writing, finally lulled him to sleep. Ghost kept writing whatever came to him. He wrote down what he’d heard of Steve’s thoughts, and what had been happening the past few days. Soon, his writing slowed, as his eyes kept closing for longer than a few seconds. His hand dropped the marker onto the sheet, and ink began soaking into the fabric, but Ghost didn’t notice.

~

Terry arrived home, and checked out his house and record shop. All seemed normal, except for a stale, unused odor. “Damn, I need to air this place out,” he said. He then walked down to the Yew. The front door was locked up tight. Around back, he unlocked the door. All was fine throughout the club. He went upstairs, to check out Kinsey’s apartment, but when he opened the door, he had a strange feeling. It was chilly in the place, and not as stale smelling.

He walked around, looking into each room. When he entered the bedroom, he saw that the window had been broken. Okay, that’s not right…Kinsey would never leave this broken window… Frowning, he saw a brick on the floor, with a paper rubber-banded onto it. Uh-oh, this is not good…

Before he touched it, he tried calling Jimmy, to report it. After several rings, Jimmy finally answered. “Hey, Terry, what’s up?” Terry explained the situation.

“Don’t pick it up,” Jimmy said. “I’m almost there, maybe ten minutes. I’ve been in Raleigh all day.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Terry said. He sat on the bed, and called Kinsey.

“Hey, man…I’m over at your place…the bedroom window got broke by a brick with a note on it. Jimmy is on his way. Just sit tight…I’ll let ya know what happens,” Terry said.

“Uh-uh, I’m coming. I’ll be there in a minute,” Kinsey said.

“You’re still sick…”

“I don’t care, I’m coming.” Kinsey hung up.

“Well, okay then…” Terry said to himself. He went downstairs, found a cold beer in the cooler, and waited to let Jimmy in the back door. He didn’t have to wait long. Just as Jimmy came in, Kinsey pulled up, too. They all went up to the bedroom. Jimmy put gloves on, before picking up the brick.

“Hey, Terry…take a picture of the scene of the crime with your phone, first,” he said. He then took the note off and read it out loud: ‘This is for you, Kinsey…for all the trouble you’ve caused me…for protecting Ghost…for helping Steve keep me away for so long. And to that cop who I’m sure is reading this…Fuck Off! Leave me alone. You stole my cameras, and confiscated my picture book. I’ll be long gone by now…you’ll never find me. I’ve said my piece, and Ghost has made it clear he wants nothing to do with me. And all I ever wanted was to love him. Well, it’s ruined now, because of all of you. So…sayonara Chumps…have a nice life…”

Jimmy stopped and looked at Kinsey. “What do you make of it?”

“Pretty cut and dried,” Kinsey said. “Sounds like he’s gone for good…I hope, but I’d still like for him to be caught and prosecuted.”

Jimmy nodded. “Yep, we won’t give up on finding him…you have my word on that. I’ll take this to be put into evidence. Go ahead and fix your window, Kinsey. And, Terry, I’ll need to download the phone pictures.”

“Sure thing, Jimmy…just catch the bastard,” Terry said.

“We will, eventually. We know where he lives, so we’ll start there,” Jimmy said, as he was leaving for the police station.  “You want to let Steve and Ghost know what went down, Terry…Kinsey? I can call them, if you’d rather.”

“I’ll call them after while, I guess,” Kinsey said.

“Yeah, I will too,” Terry said. “I think they were going back to bed, when I left. They’ve been sick, and I’m still feeling it. How are you doing, Kinsey?”

“I need more rest, too,” Kinsey said. “Trevor and Zach were doing a lot better, so I’m staying home now. I’ll call later today.”

“Y’all take it easy, and I’ll let you know what happens,” Jimmy said, as he left.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 214

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 214

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 214

warning…adult content

***

Steve got another cup of coffee, taking it outside to the front porch. If Terry didn’t want to eat, then fine, he wasn’t going to say any more about it. It did seem nice out here. He rocked the porch swing slowly, enjoying the warmth of the sun, and the peaceful feeling he got from living way out here in the woods. 

He thought of his sister, and her two kids. They’d be playing out here in the front yard pretty soon…and calling him Uncle Steve…oh man, I’m an uncle…he smiled at that thought. The screen door squeaked open, and Ghost shuffled out in his knee socks, and a blanket wrapped around him. Sitting down on the porch steps, he sipped his own mug of hot coffee.

“Terry is in there staring at a piece of toast,” he said.

“I know. Maybe he’ll eat it,” Steve said.

Ghost shrugged. “I don’t know…I think he was talking to it. He said, ‘I have to eat you, but I’m afraid you’ll choke me’…” He laughed, which made Steve start laughing.

“Oh, man….I needed that,” Steve said, holding his stomach. “It’s killing me, but that’s just too funny.”

“I know,” Ghost agreed, but had stopped laughing. He was staring out into the woods, with a far away look in his eyes.

“I think I had a dream…about an earthquake and evil fog. Was that a dream?” Ghost asked.

“Well, if it was, then we all had the same one…even Kinsey,” Steve said.

“Um-hmm, that’s what I thought,” Ghost said. “It wasn’t a dream…it was a mass hallucination for all of us. That’s why nobody else remembers.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Just what I said, Steve. That’s the connection…it was only for all of us…all of us that was at the demon house. It’s back…and it’s putting visions and stuff in our heads.” He nodded, as if this was a true fact.

Steve frowned. “For real? that same evil demon we got rid of?”

Ghost thought for a minute. “No, another one…not as bad, but it sees it’s chance to come forth now. See, we opened the portal to the underworld, when we did that séance. The underworld…that’s where the demons all hang out. So, when we busted the biggest, baddest, badass demon, this other one wants to have the boss position. It’s trying to get us to let it come and be known, since we all know that they’re there now. Just us that did the house demon. That’s why nobody but us sees these things, and hears thing on the news. It’s all fake…for real fake…made just for our minds, and they hope we’ll be freaked out enough to do another séance, so it can come out and take over.” He looked up at Steve, nodding his head.

“Ghost, I feel like I want to say that’s bullshit…but in a way, it makes sense,” Steve said. “At least it’s an explanation. So, what should we do…just in case? I really don’t want to go bustin’ demons again.”

“Me either…ever. I don’t want to deal with ’em ever again. But, they’ll keep on until we pay attention,” Ghost said.

“Well, too bad. Can’t you close the door  on them, or sage them away?” Steve asked. “Do some of your hocus-pocus on ’em.” He was talking like this was a real situation, but inside he was thinking it was crazy talk.

“Yeah, but that would have us doing all that ‘crazy talk’ stuff, like we did before,” said Ghost, picking up on Steve’s inner thoughts.

Steve grinned, “You’re good at doing that, ya know…hearing what I say inside.”

Ghost smiled, “Yeah, I know, you come through loud and clear.’

“So, I suggest we just ignore the fake stuff, now that we know it’s fake. Then, they’ll give up and go somewhere else,” Steve said.

“Okay, guess so…they can come knocking, and we won’t answer,” Ghost said. “But, what if they make the fake stuff feel so real that we believe it? You know, like lies, and seeing weird shit, and things it says about all of us…I mean, it could put bad stuff in our heads.”

“Well, if I hear any trash talk about any of us, I’ll know it’s not true. We need to tell the others about all this,” Steve said.

“Yep, and we can start with Terry,” Ghost said, getting up to go inside. “I need breakfast, anyway. Come on, Steve…Terry will think we’re crazy, so I need you to help.”

~

At the table, Terry had eaten half a piece of toast, and now was almost falling asleep sitting there.

“Hey, Dude…we got some ideas…you need to listen,” Steve said, as he jiggled Terry’s shoulder.

“Huh? What? Oh, okay, I’m awake…a little bit,” Terry said.

They told him everything they’d been discussing. Terry nodded. “Mission Ignore Fakeness is on. I’ll call Kinsey. He’s still over at Zach’s, so he can fill them in.”

With that settled, boredom was setting in. None of them felt ready or well enough yet to go anywhere, though. Terry called Kinsey and explained their plan, then he went back to bed, hoping when he woke up he’d feel better.

Steve strummed his guitar for a little while, just for it’s soothing tones. His mind couldn’t concentrate on any songs yet, but running his fingers over the frets, and hearing the strings vibrate, always made him feel better.

Ghost had gotten his journal and curled up on the couch to write…he never missed a day, if he could help it. He hummed along to Steve’s music, and they both fell into a familiar, comfortable routine.

Terry, still trying to rest, was listening, and it helped him feel better, too. He smiled to himself. His two best friends, besides Kinsey, were out there, and it seemed so peaceful and normal…something they’d do any time together. He’d stayed over before, but those times were after partying too hard, and he always wondered what Steve and Ghost did when they were alone.

They were a crazy pair, and he thought maybe they were just as crazy all the time…but, this here, this normalcy was what he realized was the one constant that allowed them to be each other’s soul mate. Their name ‘Lost Souls’ was so right for them…except they weren’t lost…they’d found each other. It was testimony for all the lost souls in the world, that you don’t have to be forever lost…

Terry finally drifted off to sleep. Steve continued to play softly, for awhile. He could hear Ghost humming, and the scratching of his marker, as he wrote in the journal. He’d never really read any of them, only a peek or two, or when Ghost would show him a certain part. He smiled, as he imagined what Ghost wrote about…was it dreams? made up stories? every day happenings? He knew he kept a separate notebook for song lyrics, and he had some for his art work…he recognized those, but this one was new.

It had a picture of an Indian dream-catcher on the cover. It was fancier than a spiral…this one was bound. He’d gotten it for Christmas, and it wouldn’t take him long to fill it with his writing. He looked over at Ghost.

“What ‘cha writing about?” he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Ghost finished his thought, before he looked up.

“Huh? This journal?”

“Yes…what is it about? Is there a theme?”

Ghost looked puzzled. “I don’t know, I just write what comes. I don’t think about it.” He shrugged, tracing his fingers along the sides of the book. “This one will turn into whatever it is meant to be…just like the others,” he said.

“Oh, well…read me something then,” Steve said.

Ghost looked down at the page he’d just finished, as if it was a revelation to him, too. “Hmm, well, here the book says, ‘I went to live with Ghost on Christmas Eve. I am happy, because Ghost is a writer, and I was meant to be written in. He is not afraid to write what he thinks…even if it’s messy, or silly, or profound.” Ghost looked up at Steve. “That’s what I wrote…that’s what the book said to me.” He smiled his crooked smile.

Steve laughed. “Thank you, Ghost, for being so amazing. I love your writing.” He put his guitar down, and slowly closed Ghost’s book, keeping his hand on top of Ghost’s. Ghost did not pull away, instead, he looked into Steve’s eyes.

Steve took Ghost’s face in his hands, and they kissed. As their tongues touched, they both felt a familiar twinge of need for each other. Without a word, Steve rose, and helped Ghost to his feet. They went arm in arm down the hall to Ghost’s bedroom. It had been awhile since they’d pleasured one another, and so this time was extra tender and loving…though not quiet.

Terry was awakened, at first disoriented. Then, he understood what he was hearing, and grinned. This is what it’s all about, he thought, loving someone unconditionally. He ached for wanting someone like that in his life. He vowed to stop playing around…from now on, to get serious about his quest for true love.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 213

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 213

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 213

warning…adult content

***

Ghost let go of Steve, but immediately grabbed hold of Terry. Steve took the few steps to the front door, closing and locking it. Terry cackled, half from fright, and half from the ridiculousness of locking the door against the killer fog.

“Get back, Steve,” Ghost hollered. “It’s evil…I can smell it. It’s bad and rotten.”

Steve jumped back onto the couch. “I don’t smell anything. It just feels moist, and now it’s kinda chilly in here.”

“Well, I can, and it’s not good. I think it wants to disappear us for real this time.” Ghost buried his face into Terry’s shoulder. “Don’t even look at it no more,” he said, all muffled.

They all jumped, as the TV came back on. They heard a crackling, and a voice, but no picture. It was reporting wide-spread electrical outages. That’s all they heard, before it went off the air again.

“Do we have any electricity, Steve?” Ghost asked.

Steve got up to check the lights. Nothing came on. “Nope.”

“But the TV was on,” Terry said.

“Yeah, must be an anomaly, or glitch, or something like that,” Steve said. “Well, we can’t do anything about it, so who wants coffee? I’ll heat it on the stove.”

They all did, and when it was hot and ready, they began to relax, as they drank. Ghost was getting sleepy, so stretched out, with his head in Steve’s lap, and his legs in Terry’s. Terry and Steve propped up their feet on the coffee table, and leaned back to rest, too. It was the most any of them had slept all night…and when they did wake again, it was night again.

Steve eased Ghost off him, and went to look out the window. The moon was shrouded in the fog, which had not dissipated yet, curling it’s eerie wisps around the trees and their cars. Terry remembered they hadn’t heard from Kinsey.

“I’m gonna call,” he said, but then found his phone had no service. The battery was drained, too. “How long is this gonna last? I’m feeling worse, and I think I have a fever, too.”

“There’s medicine in the kitchen cabinet. Go take some,” Steve said.

Terry got up off the couch, and found his way into the kitchen. It was almost too dark to see now. “Hey, y’all got a candle or flashlight in here?” he hollered.

“You don’t have to yell,” Steve yelled back.

“Yeah, I do…’cause when my eyes can’t see, my ears can’t hear,” Terry said.

Steve had come into the kitchen by then, and found a flashlight and a candle in the junk drawer. He flipped the switch…and nothing…He shook it…still nothing. “These were new batteries in here. Why aren’t they working?” He dug out a lighter and lit the candle he’d found. He looked around for something to set it in, finally grabbing a saucer.

“The Motrin is in the cabinet.” Steve held the candle up, so Terry could find it, and take some.

Back in the living room, Ghost was still asleep. “What now,” Terry asked. “I think I’m gonna need to lay down. I’m feeling like crap.”

“Go on and take Ghost’s bed,” Steve said. “I’m staying up awhile. I feel like I need to be on guard.”

Terry gave him a look. “For real? From what?” He was getting spooked.

“I don’t know…anything…just in case; and I’m getting my gun out, too.”

“Oh Lord, help us…Steve, you’ve got me scared now,” Terry said, looking around into the shadowy corners.

“Aww, it’s nothing, Dude…don’t worry. Ghost just gets me going to where I believe anything. You know how he gets…telling all those crazy stories like they’re real.” Steve laughed to ease the tension.

“Yeah, I know, but that earthquake was real, and so is that fog.”

Steve shrugged. “So, are you saying you’re gonna stay up with me?”

Sighing, Terry said, “Well, I guess for a little while.” He scooted Ghost’s feet off the couch, so he could sit down. “Ya got a radio or something?”

“No, sorry,” Steve said. He slid under Ghost’s head again, getting himself comfortable.

“Why ya moving me around?” Ghost mumbled.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve said.

They sat this way for awhile, finally falling asleep themselves. All three had strange dreams, and at one point Ghost must have sleepwalked back to his bed. Terry’s phone ringing at daylight woke them up. He scrambled around, trying to find it. Answering, he said, “Hey, the phone’s working again…Hello? Who is it?”

“It’s Kinsey. Are y’all all right out there?”

“Yeah, except I’m having a heart attack,” Terry said. “You woke us up, and we were all spooked last night. He paused to catch his breath.

“Yeah, us too,” Kinsey said, “but we’re okay…still sick, but alive anyway. Y’all feeling any better?”

“Well, maybe they are, but mine is just getting going…you?”

“Same here. Did Steve tell you about the last time this happened?” Kinsey asked.

“He said everything was weird, and nobody remembered it later on,” Terry said.

“Yeah, I think it must be the same now. Outside looks normal again, and the power is back on…people going about their business like always. Beats me what it is,” Kinsey said.

“I know…strange. I’m gonna stay over again and see how this plays out,” Terry said.

“Sounds good. I’ll be here at Zach’s, too,” Kinsey said. “Y’all call if something comes up.”

“Will do, Kinsey.” He ended the call, and turned to face Steve. “You heard?”

“Yeah…let me try the TV again,” Steve said, as he pushed the remote’s on button. It did come on, and was the news out of Raleigh. The picture wasn’t even snowy this morning. There was no mention of anything that had happened…nothing about an earthquake, power outages, fog…nothing.

Steve and Terry looked at each other in confusion. “It did too happen,” Terry said. “What’s wrong with these people?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know, Terry. Is it just all of us? It can’t be…can it?”

“It kinda seems that way, but my head is all goofy from being sick. I can’t concentrate. Maybe later we can make sense of it.”

“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I’m hungry now,” Steve said. “I think I must be feeling better, since food sounds good now. Ya want breakfast?”

Terry shook his head. “Not really, but maybe I can eat some toast or something.”

Steve went to pull out the bread, butter, and honey. He scrambled some eggs, too. “Toast is on the table, Dude…help yourself,” he told Terry, when it was ready. He went down the hall to wake Ghost.

Terry went slowly to the kitchen, and eased himself into a chair. He warily eyed the piece of toast. He knew he should eat, but his stomach was saying no. As Steve came back through, he noticed Terry just sitting there.

“Ghost is getting up…maybe,” he said. “Get a piece and force yourself, Terry…and here’s your water and pills.” He got a plate of everything for himself, and sat down.

“I’m dying…” Terry said, barely above a whisper. He was still staring at the toast.

“I know you are. I already died, and so did Ghost, but it gets better…eventually.”

“How come you’re over it so quick?”

“I’m not…not all the way. Just my throat is better, but the rest of me is still hurting. I’m just trying to be positive today. You know…let the good energy in,” Steve said.

Terry frowned. “Aww crap, Steve…you sound like one of those Yogi Bear people.”

“Like what?”

“You know…those yogi people…who do that yoga shit…all calm, and serene, and enlightened?”

“Oh, I thought you were talking about a bear. I don’t get it,” Steve said.

“Forget the bear! I wanna holler, and scream get the fuck outta me, you crappy virus. Or at least get high on some smoke. That would do it…I’d be calm and enlightened, if I got lighted up,” Terry said.

Steve laughed. “I’ll bet you would. Well, nobody’s stopping ya.”

“Yeah, I am,” Terry said, shaking his head. “That smoke is harsh on a sore throat. I tried it once.”

Steve shrugged. “Whatever, Dude.” He finished eating his breakfast. Ghost had never gotten up.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 212

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 212

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 212

warning…adult content

***

After Terry had talked to Kinsey, he went to check on Steve and Ghost, and saw that they were still sleeping. He poured himself another cup of coffee, taking it outside on the front porch. The fresh breeze, sighing through the pine trees, seemed to clear his head. He rocked the swing back and forth, lost in his own thoughts.

It would be the new year, in a few days, and he thought for the most part, the past year had been a pretty good one, give or take a few bumps in the road. He had a few things lined up that he wanted to accomplish…things he hoped would be productive. He contemplated expanding his record store, and recording studio…maybe even set up a storefront in Raleigh, to add to his income.

“Man, when did I become a responsible businessman? Never saw that one coming,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I’m still having fun playing music in Gumbo and Lost Souls, so I’m still in the game…”

He heard the screen door open. It was Ghost, coming out wrapped in a blanket. He stood at the railing, looking up at the sky.

“Why are you outta bed?” Terry asked. “It’s cold out here.”

Ghost turned to face Terry. “I just need some fresh air,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Steve is snoring, and I’m tired of laying down. Did you feed my cat?”

“Yeah, I gave him a plate of cat food. He ate it, then disappeared again,” Terry said. “You need me to get something for you?”

“No…”

“You want to go see a doctor?”

“No.” Ghost shook his head.

“You…”

“Stop asking me stuff, Terry. Just be quiet.” He looked at Terry, knowing he’d hurt his feelings…he was here to help them. “I’m sorry…it’s just I feel so bad…” he said, and sank down to the porch floor, tears running down his face.

“Aww, Ghost, I know you do. It’s ok..yell at me all ya want.” He saw that Ghost was shivering, so went to help him up. “C’mon, go back to bed…or lay on the couch, or get in Steve’s bed.” He supported Ghost back into the house.

“Okay, Steve’s bed.”

Terry got him settled, then looked in on Steve, who was still asleep.

“This is going to be a long day and night…”

He got a snack for himself, and sat back down on the couch. Looking through the meager video selection the guys had, he picked one to watch. Before he could get interested in it though, he fell asleep himself.

Sometime later, he heard Steve get up to rummage around in the kitchen. It was dusk by now, and it seemed everyone’s time for waking and sleeping was off. “What a weird day…”

“You okay in there,” he asked Steve.

“Yeah, just hungry,” Steve said. He came out and sat on the couch. “Ghost is in my bed.”

“I know,” Terry said. “He came outside…said you were snoring. He started crying, so I put him in your bed.”

Steve sighed. “Well, I hope whatever this is goes away soon.” Terry nodded, agreeing.

~

By morning, Terry was exhausted. Steve and Ghost had wandered around, one after the other, all night long. Deciding to make them all some breakfast, he called them to eat, happy they were all up at the same time now. Ghost was able to talk again, and said he was a feeling a little better. Steve was miserable still, and Terry said his throat was scratchy now, too. After eating, they all went out front. It had warmed up a bit, and they drank their coffee, while soaking in some much needed sun.

Terry’s phone rang. It was Kinsey. “How’s it going out there?” he asked. Terry told him, and Kinsey said, “Well, guess where I am?”

“Home?” Terry asked.

“Nope…at Trevor and Zach’s. They called last night, and they’re dying too…of whatever it is that’s going around. I stayed with them, and will be here today.”

“Ok, Kinsey, but you know it’ll hit you next, don’t ya? My throat is hurting already, so y’all take care of each other,” Terry said.

“Yeah, will do…maybe we’ll all get together again someday,” Kinsey laughed.

Terry ended the call. “Well, they got it, too…and so do I.”

“Hey, Steve…do you think Linda got it?” Ghost asked.

“Probably did…maybe I should call her,” Steve said, going inside to make the call. In a little while, he came back outside. “Well, she’s not sick, and they’re all fine. She had a nice Christmas with the kids. She said she plans on getting things started, to move back here, after New Year’s Day,” he said.

Suddenly, there was a big jolt, and everything started shaking. The wind chimes clanged, and something crashed inside the house.

“What the hell?” Terry hollered.

“Shit, it’s another earthquake,” Steve said, as the swing rocked wildly.

Ghost just held onto the porch railing until the shaking stopped.

“That was freaky, Dude,” Terry laughed. “What do you mean, another one?”

“When you and Kinsey were gone on your vacation at Thanksgiving, we had one. It was creepy,” Steve explained.

“What…in North Carolina?” Terry asked.

“Is the time slip happening again, Steve?” Ghost asked, looking scared. “It don’t feel right…and look…the sky…it’s funny, like fake, again.” He scrambled over to Steve and clung to him.

Terry looked up at the sky. “Dude, it totally is. This is too weird.”

Steve headed for the front door, with Ghost hanging onto him, and Terry was right behind them, not wanting to be left out by himself. Turning on the tv to catch any news, Steve flipped through all three stations. The signal was out on two of them, and the other just showed a snowy pattern on the screen, and they could only hear bits of sound. They did hear them say earthquake, Raleigh, and something about a stopped clock, or a fast forwarding clock there in the tv newsroom. Then, the signal went out completely.

“Ya think it’s the end of the world?” Terry asked, half joking.

“Aw, shut up with that, Terry,” Steve said. “This happens all over the world…why not North Carolina?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right…” Terry laughed, hoping it really was no big deal.

The three of them huddled on the couch, trying to keep calm, as several after-shocks rumbled through. Spirit came running out from under the bed, all fuzzed up, and jumped right in the middle of them.

Terry frowned, looking at Ghost. “How come you didn’t predict this, Ghost? You could have at least warned us.”

“I don’t do earthquakes…just people…” Ghost said, in all seriousness.

“Is it over, yet?” Terry asked.

“How should I know,” Steve said. “We just have to wait and see.”

“Steve, do you feel weird now…like last time?” Ghost asked, rubbing the goose-bumps on his arms.

“Yeah, a little. Maybe it’s just ’cause I’m sick, though,” Steve said. “Do you?”

“Uh-huh…like we’re fixing to do what we already did, again…and people won’t remember,” Ghost said.

“What the hell are y’all talking about?” Terry asked.

“The time slip. Everything went of whack, after that last one. We were in the diner, and when we looked outside, everything looked off…and there were no people in town,” Steve said. “Even the news people said something happened. Then it all went back to normal, and no one even remembered it, except us and the waitress.”

“And don’t forget the fog, Steve” Ghost said.

“Oh, yeah…it was rolling in real slow over the street and sky until you couldn’t see anything.”

“We didn’t want it to touch us…in case it disappeared us too,” Ghost said. He craned his neck to look out the screen door. “I think I see it…it’s coming again.” He was practically strangling Steve.

“Shit, you’re right,” Steve said.

“Shut the door, or it’ll get in here with us.” Ghost gripped Steve’s arm harder.

“Ghost, let go. I can’t close the door if I can’t even get up.”

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 211

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 211

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 211

warning…adult content

***

When Ghost finally fell back asleep, Steve went into the kitchen to fix them some soup. He was exhausted, but wanted food to be ready when Ghost woke up. As he stirred the pot on the stove, he could barely keep his eyes open. Everything he did seemed in slow motion. As soon as it was done, he went to lay down beside Ghost, just for a little while, he told himself. He listened to Ghost’s raspy breathing, and fell asleep himself, for a couple of hours.

Ghost began to move around, after awhile, then woke to find he was drenched. His fever had broken, and now he was shivering in his damp clothes. Weak and woozy, he managed to find a dry t-shirt, and make his way to the bathroom. Steve had heard him get up, so he went to get their supper on the table.

Setting a bowl of the soup in front of Ghost, he urged him to eat it. “You need food in you, before you faint,” Steve said.

Ghost put his face over the steaming liquid, and inhaled, which seemed to help his sinuses open up. He only took a few bites of the soup, finding it hard to swallow. “I can’t talk,” he whispered.

“I know,” Steve said. “You don’t have to talk right now.” He was watching him closely, though.

“Why I’m sick all the time?” Ghost asked.

“Shh…it’s just the way it is. Now, eat…and drink your water…you’re dehydrated.”

Ghost coughed and sneezed. “I’m so tired. My eyes hurt…my head hurts,” he said with his eyes closed and breathing through his mouth.

Steve knew there wasn’t much more to be done to make Ghost feel any better, so he just listened to his complaints and misery. He didn’t want to admit it, but his own throat was starting to get that raw feeling, too. He tried to ignore it…to will it away.

“You gonna eat any more?” he asked.

Ghost shook his head.

“Then go get back in bed. I’m gonna turn in early, myself.”

Ghost scraped his chair back, and shakily got up. Cracking his eyes open, he wobbled down the hallway to his bed. Sighing, Steve gathered up the dishes, planning on doing them in the morning. Checking the doors, he then turned out the lights.

“You want me to stay in here with you?” he asked. Ghost nodded, so Steve got in the bed, and tried to go to sleep. The wind had gotten up, and was again whistling through the windows, sounding eerie and mournful. He fell into a fitful sleep, and would jerk awake every time Ghost moved. It seemed like the longest night ever, or the shortest…he couldn’t decide which, when the phone rang.

It was daylight, by now. Steve made his way to the living room to answer the incessant ringing. “What?” he croaked into the phone.

“Well, don’t you sound chipper this morning,” said Terry. “Y’all aren’t up yet? Hell, it’s almost noon, Dude,” he laughed.

“Fuck you, Terry,” Steve said, hanging up. It rang again. “You heard what I said,” Steve began, but Terry started talking louder.

“Hey now, just a minute. Why you being so crabby? I was just teasing.”

“We’re both dying, Terry…for real. I’m sick as a dog, and Ghost has been running a fever for two days now. Leave us alone,” Steve said, which started a coughing fit.

“Aww, poor babies,” Terry said, “y’all just sit tight…I’m coming over. I ain’t scared of germs.” Then he hung up.

Steve stared at the phone, wondering if he heard right. “Damn him,” he said, then went into the kitchen to make coffee. While he waited, he took some Motrin, and itemized all his aches and pains, starting with the top of his head, which felt like a bass drum beating inside his skull. He got meds and water for Ghost, and brought in a mug of coffee to him.

“Ghost, wake up. Take these pills, and I brung ya some coffee.”

“Steve…I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“No…so get up.”

Ghost rolled over. With his bleary eyes, he looked at Steve. “You look dead.”

“Yeah, you gave me your crap sickness, and I’m dead now. Take your meds, and drink your coffee…it’s getting cold. You feeling any better at all?”

“No,” Ghost whispered, still unable to talk much. “Did the phone ring?”

“Oh, yeah…Terry’s coming over. He wants to see what he’ll look like after he catches this crap, too.”

Ghost managed a smile, at that.

“I’m gonna fix us something to eat,” Steve said. Just as he got in the kitchen, though, the sound of Terry’s loud car driving up, rattled the windows. Steve went to unlock the door.

Terry came in, took one look at Steve, and said, “Shit, you really are sick, Dude.” He was carrying a large bag, which he set on the coffee table. “Sit down,” he said. “I brought y’all some breakfast. I had to bribe that waitress over at the diner to fix morning food, seeing that it’s lunch time, but I told her it was for y’all…and she gave me the works.” He took the take-home containers out of the bag, setting them on the table.

“Ghost, where are you? Come and get it while it’s hot,” Terry yelled.

Ghost slowly walked down the hallway, holding onto the wall to keep from falling over.

“Damn, Ghost…you look worse than Steve,” Terry said, going over to help Ghost to the couch.

“I can’t talk,” Ghost whispered.

“Yeah, well just eat, then. There’s pancakes, grits, and eggs. I’ll get y’all some milk,” Terry said. He went into the kitchen.

Ghost leaned against Steve, his head on Steve’s shoulder. His eyes were closed. Steve was leaning back, his eyes closed, too. Terry came back in, setting the milk down. He saw Ghost’s camera there on the table, so picked it up and snapped a picture of the two of them.

“This is the picture of misery,” he said. “Ok, guys, wake up…eat.”

Ghost moaned, as Steve pushed him upright. “I hurt all over…”

“Yeah, well…eat and go back to bed, then. I’m gonna camp out here and take care of y’all. Don’t worry about a thing…Terry to the rescue.” He laughed.

Ghost coughed again. “We got germs…you’ll get ’em.”

“Yeah, well, then y’all can take care of me,” Terry said.

They all managed to eat some of the breakfast. Terry decided to actually stay over, so went to clean up the kitchen. Coming back through the living room, he said, “Hey, look at me…playing nursemaid.” He laughed, trying to get a smile out of them. He put clean sheets on the bed, and helped them back into the bedroom. “Y’all rest…I’ll check on ya later. Holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Terry,” Steve said. He got under the blankets with Ghost. They were both asleep within seconds.

“Damn, I hope I don’t catch it,” Terry said.

Back in the living room, he sat down on the couch and pulled out his phone. He called Kinsey. “Hey, Dude…Terry here. Guess where I am?”

“You’re at home?” Kinsey asked.

“Nope, over at Steve and Ghost’s house. I’m their nursemaid for a few days. I’m staying over.”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Oh, man…they’re both dying of something…so sick they can hardly move. I made them eat and they’re taking something for the fever, but I ain’t never seen two such pitiful people in my life. In fact, I took a picture when they were out of it.”

“You need some help? I can come out there,” Kinsey said.

“Naw, I’m probably gonna catch it, too. No need for you to expose yourself to the plague, or whatever it is. I’ll call if it gets too bad.”

“Okay, keep in touch,” said Kinsey.

“Yeah, just wanted you to know what was going on,” Terry said, then hung up the phone.

It was still a little windy and chilly outside, and he hoped it would blow away any cooties.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 210

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 210

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 210

warning…adult content

***

Wracked with sobs, Steve was overcome from seeing the photos…the undeniable truth of what Ghost had gone through with Maxy. Rocking back and forth on the swing, he was saying, “I’m so sorry, Ghost. I did this to you. I’m the one who you were running from, and you ran right to another one of me. I’m no better than he is, Ghost. Forgive me…please…”

Jimmy did his best to comfort him, but Steve shook him off. “No, Jimmy…these pictures are the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen…and it’s my fault. If I hadn’t killed Ghost first, then he wouldn’t have been killed by Maxy.”

Jimmy frowned. “What are you talking about, Steve? Ghost isn’t dead…nobody killed him…he’s right in there in the bedroom.”

Steve raised his head to look at Jimmy. “Oh…oh…yeah I did…I killed Ghost. Go ask the old guys at the hardware store. They’ll tell ya…they saw what I did. Go ask the mountain people…they know…and, they made him alive again.” He stared Jimmy in the eyes, daring him to disagree.

“Okay, fine, Steve…you did, they did, he did…everybody killed Ghost. So, who is that in the bedroom, then?” Jimmy asked.

“Ghost,” Steve said, “because he always comes back.”

Jimmy didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help it…he burst out laughing.

“Don’t…Don’t even, Jimmy!” Steve stood up, with anger in his eyes.

“Sorry, man…it just makes no sense to me,” Jimmy said. “I know you’re saying the truth…just let me process all this.”

Steve was about to blow. His temper was right on the edge, but he managed to hold it in. He turned away, and slammed his fist into the porch railing. It hurt, but Steve didn’t care. He’d hurt Ghost much, much worse. When he’d gotten control, he asked, “Jimmy, are you gonna catch that bastard and fry him, or what?”

Nodding, Jimmy said, “Yes, Steve, we’ve already started. The alert went out before I came over here. We’ll get him.”

“Fine, but if I see him first…he’s mine,” Steve said, deadly serious. “And, take that book with you. Go put it in the car…lock it away…I don’t want Ghost to see it…or anybody to see it.”

“See what?” Ghost asked, as he was coming out of the house, onto the porch. “What’s going on?” He looked at Steve and Jimmy, trying to focus on their faces. He was looking pretty rough, with his tangled hair damp from sweating, and his face flushed. He coughed, and held his hands to his stomach.

“Nothing, Ghost…go back to bed. Jimmy and I were just talking,” Steve said.

Blinking, to clear his vision, Ghost tried to remember why Jimmy was even here at the house. “Oh yeah, the camera thing…” he said. Coughing again, tripped on the photo album, as he shakily sat down on the swing. He picked it up, while Steve and Jimmy froze for a second. Steve then, lunged for it, but Ghost had already opened it.

“Hey, what is this?” He flipped a few pages, frowning at what he was looking at.

“Give me that…you don’t want to see it,” Steve said, grabbing for it again.

“Wait, Steve…this is…why are there pictures of…oh God…Steve…” He looked up at Steve, horror filling his eyes. “Why…how? Did you see these?” Ghost was breathing hard, as  he looked at more pages. “I don’t even remember…but…it must have…” He looked confused.

Steve took the book now, closed it and gave it to Jimmy. “Ghost, Jimmy has to use that for proof, for evidence against Maxy, for what he did…for what he’s still doing with that hidden camera we found. They’ll catch him and put him in prison…forever.

“There’s more, Steve,” Ghost said.

“Huh? More…” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ghost said. “I didn’t know what it was, but now…well, I was laying down on the bed, and looking up at the ceiling. There’s a hole up there. Go look.”

Steve and Jimmy went inside and into Ghost’s bedroom, to look for themselves. At first, they didn’t see anything, but then Steve stretched out on the bed, to look at the ceiling, like Ghost had done.

“There it is…right over the bed, Jimmy.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jimmy said, when he saw it, too. “That thing’s still running. I see the little green light.” They both stared at it. “How do you get up there? Is there an attic door or something?” Jimmy asked.

“Yeah, there’s just the rafters up there, but there is a little door in the closet ceiling, I think,” Steve said. He opened the closet door. “Yeah, it’s here.”

“Okay, boost me up. I’ll get in there and disconnect it,” Jimmy said. When he was up there, he shined his police flashlight all around the area. He found the camera, and lots of wires leading from it in all directions. Each one ended at other cameras, pointing down into each room of the house.

“My God, Steve…there are six of them up here.”

“What? Well get rid of them all,” Steve said.

“Will do,” Jimmy said. He scrabbled around, gathering them up. “Here Steve I’m gonna hand ’em down to ya.”

Steve put all six cameras, and all the wiring, on the bed, as Jimmy handed them down. As they stood there, staring at it all, Steve wondered how long they’d all been here.

“Same as the first one we found, Steve,” Jimmy said.

“But, we always lock the doors when we leave. It never looked like anyone broke in.”

“I still don’t get it, Steve,” Jimmy said. “Why all the pictures, and now the cameras? You think it’s blackmail, money, revenge…?”

“Yeah, revenge,” Steve said, “because Ghost wouldn’t stay with him anymore.”

“Well, we’ll get him…don’t you worry about that. Do you have a box or something to put these in? I’ll take them down to the station with me.”

“Yeah, I’ll go find one,” Steve said.

When they came back outside to the porch, they saw that Ghost was still looking at the photos.

“Put it away, Ghost,” Steve said.

“”But, I don’t remember any of this stuff…just the first few,” Ghost said. “Did this really happen?’

Steve nodded. “Yeah, and why you don’t remember it, is because he had you drugged. For a long time, it looks like. Those there are him putting something in your food and drinks. So yeah, it happened…” Steve spoke softly. “And he won’t get away with it either. What he did to you, what he made you do, it was horrible and wrong, Ghost.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Kneeling down in front of Ghost, he said, “I still think it started with me, what I’d done to you…so you had to leave. If I hadn’t, you’d never have left and met this psycho. Oh, Ghost…I’m so sorry. I still don’t deserve you. I know you said you forgave me, but…I can never forgive myself.” Tears ran down his face.

Ghost ran his hands into Steve’s hair, then raised his head to look into his eyes. “I do forgive you, Steve. I told you that. I’ll always love you, even if you hurt me again. I’ll love you. You can do anything to me…it don’t matter, but…not him!” Ghost said, and kicked the photo album across the porch. “Not him! He lied…he said he loved me, and I wanted to hear that. I wanted someone to love me…but, it wasn’t real…not real…” He took a shuddery breath, then sobbed.

Steve held him close, while Ghost let out his pain. Jimmy was feeling awkward, so took the box out to the car, and started writing in his notebook what had been found up to now.

Ghost was trying to get control now, but he could hardly breathe from crying and also being sick.

“I’m getting you some ice water and some Motrin, Ghost. You’re fever is getting worse. We have to get it lower,” Steve said, then went inside.

When he came back out, Jimmy told him he was leaving, and taking the cameras and photos back to the station to lock them up in the evidence room. “Guys, it’ll be ok. We know what we’re dealing with, so y’all can just chill for awhile. And, Steve…we’ll get to that smoke another time…deal?”

“Yeah, Jimmy…thanks for everything. Let us know what happens.”

“Yep, sure will. Ghost, I’m real sorry for what you’ve had to go through, but we’ll see that bastard is put away. Don’t worry.” He got into his cruiser, and drove off.

Steve helped Ghost back into bed, and dabbed cool wash cloths on Ghost’s face and body, trying to cool him down.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 209

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 209

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 209

warning…adult content

***

“Steeeve,” Ghost wailed, from his bedroom.

“What?” Steve yelled back.

“My stomach hurts…it’s on fire.”

“Tough…I told ya not to drink that crap, now ya just gotta deal with it,” Steve said.

“But it hurts,” Ghost cried.

Steve got up from the couch, and went to stand in the doorway of Ghost’s room. He had to admit, Ghost looked pretty pitiful, lying there clutching his stomach, and gritting his teeth. Sighing, Steve asked, “What was in that potion you drank, anyway?”

“I don’t know…the label fell off when I picked it up. All I saw on there, it said for fevers,” Ghost said.

“Okay, hang on, I’ll go find it,” Steve said, as he went over to the back storage room. He hated going in there. It was musty, and the light was dim. He carefully stepped in, looking around. There it was. The label was on the floor. A few more steps, and he picked it up, just as he heard a scratching noise behind a shelf. He froze for a second, then got out as fast as he could, slamming the door behind him.

Back in Ghost’s room, he tried to read the writing on the label. It was a faded to yellow piece of paper that had been taped to the vial. Miz Deliverance had written in her old-fashioned, spidery way: For Fevers, Sore Throats, and Aches…Contains Alcohol, Feverfew, Extract of Jalapeno, Cayenne Pepper, Vanilla, and Wintergreen. Take two teaspoons every four hours. Caution: will be hot & make you sweat out the fever. May be taken with milk & bread.

Steve read this out loud. “I’m gonna get you some milk and bread. That should help your fiery stomach, but you’re just gonna have to put up with the rest. You OD’d on it, Ghost. You took too much.”

Ghost just moaned. Steve went to get the milk and bread. “Here,” he said, when he got back, and helped Ghost sit upright. Ghost choked it all down, then waited for the cramping to stop.

“Better yet?” Steve asked.

“Maybe a little,” Ghost said, but lay back down.

Steve left him there, going back to sit on the couch. He turned on the TV, and stared at a football game, but couldn’t concentrate on it. He was worrying about that package, again. After about an hour, he heard a car driving up. It was Jimmy.

Steve met him out on the porch. “Hey, what did you find out?”

Jimmy sat on the porch step. “Well, that was definitely a camera. We played back the tape on there…it showed his face, clear as day, when he turned it on and adjusted the angle. It was that guy, Maxy, for sure. The guy is an idiot…filming his own face like that. Then, it just showed y’all coming and going. Your sister was on it, too, so he must have put it up there sometime before she even got here…probably one time when y’all were out. It looked like day time. That was about it. He just got out of jail, not long ago, so guess this is the first thing he did.”

Steve was frowning. “Yeah, he left that rose not long ago, too.”

They were quiet for a few moments. Then, Steve asked, “Can you put him back in jail for this?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jimmy said. “You’ll have to file a report, and we’ll have to catch him…but, yeah. You want to do that?”

“Damn right I do,” Steve said.

“Then come down to the station, I guess tomorrow, and give your statement. Anyway, who is this guy, and why does he want to spy on y’all?” Jimmy asked. “I mean, I know why he was in jail, but why now?”

“Because he’s an asshole, that’s why,” Steve said. “He’s obsessed with Ghost. You know that whole deal, don’t you?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Well, not really…just rumors, and then the fight.”

Steve was surprised, but told Jimmy the whole story.

“Man, that is sick, Steve,” Jimmy said. “Now it kind of makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Steve asked.

“This package y’all got.”

“Well, what was in it?”

“It’s…well, it’s bad…you’re not gonna like it. It’s a photo album. Pictures I’m assuming were taken from a surveillance camera in his own house…from when Ghost was there,” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “This guy is nuts, Steve…and, well…everything you’ve been telling me…only in pictures.” He rubbed his hands over his face and hair. “Man, I wish you wouldn’t look at them. Where is Ghost, anyway?”

“Oh, he’s asleep. He’s pretty sick, and he took some kind of old potion his grandmother had mixed up years ago. So he’s sleeping it off,” Steve said.

Nodding, Jimmy said, “Good…I wouldn’t want him to see it either. It’s gotta be even worse for him,” he said in a round-about way of warning Steve. He went out to his car, getting the box out. Before handing it to Steve, he said, “Steve, we had to look at these…not because we’re perverts or anything…just part of police investigation, ya know. This is proof…that sicko should be put away for good, and believe me, if I can do anything to speed that along, I will. And, Steve…I don’t know if this was a one time deal or not, but we’re trying to find out if he’s done this before, out in L. A….and, damn…I don’t want you to see this, and Ghost…oh my God…please don’t be mad at him. We all know he’s a good kid…just naïve and easily taken advantage of…and…”

“Jimmy! Just give me the damn thing. Quit rambling on.” Steve said, and took the photo book from him. It was heavy. He was a bit hesitant after all the things Jimmy had said, but he steeled himself to what he’d see. Opening the tooled leather book, the first page was ok…just a picture of Ghost. Then the next page was of Maxy and Ghost, smiling for the camera, at the coffee shop. Then, there was one of them playing on stage.

“What’s so bad about these, Jimmy? Ghost told me about all this. I don’t like it, but it was a whole year they were together.” He kept turning the pages, and the pictures started to get more strange. There were pictures that appeared to be taken from cameras in Maxy’s house…hidden cameras put there in every room, that apparently only he knew were there. .

There were scenes of him and Ghost, doing regular stuff. Then it turned into photos of a more intimate kind…them kissing, and touching each other, and of them in bed having sex…lots of these. Mostly, Ghost looked happy in them, but Maxy looked greedy…even possessed.

Steve was frowning, and his breathing increased, just from seeing these. He ran his hand over his face and eyes, shaking his head.

“Steve, you don’t have to…” Jimmy said.

“No, I’m looking at them all, Jimmy,” Steve said, and continued turning pages. At one point, it seemed as if Ghost’s expressions had changed to a more frightened look. Like he didn’t enjoy it any more. There were others of bondage…of Ghost being tied down, and he could tell that Ghost was crying, being hurt. The next few pages showed just Maxy, in his kitchen, mixing pills into drinks and food…and he was grinning at the camera.

In later pictures, it seemed Ghost was sedated…his eyes half closed…no light left in them. Then there were more sexual pictures…and another person…a strange man appeared in the photos…just this man and Ghost.

“Jesus!” Steve said, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to see more, but he felt he had to. He turned more pages in the album. There were more pictures of Ghost being sexually abused in different ways, by many different men. In some, Ghost seemed to be completely out of it…others showed him screaming, or crying, or struggling. There must have been over fifty of these kinds of photos.

In between, there were pictures of Ghost, with marks on his body…cuts, bruises, black eyes, blood…and in all, his eyes were sad, and dead. There were some others, showing them on different stages, their shows getting bigger and more elaborate, too. Then, toward the end, there was one of Ghost, as he had sneaked out of the bedroom, and another of him on the phone.

It continued through that night, and of the beating Maxy had inflicted on Ghost…and of Ghost lying there against the brick wall, looking dead. That was the final picture, but Maxy had written a few words…

In large block letters, Maxy had written…I love him..I killed him…now he is a Ghost…I will kill him again and again until he lives inside of me…here is our blood…together. There were drops and smears of dried blood on the page.

Steve let the book fall shut, and as it fell to the porch floor, he bent in half, head on his knees, and sobbed.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

 

 

 

 

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 208

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 208

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 208

warning…adult content

***

Ghost shook his head. “It’s a Christmas present, Steve…why would we shoot somebody for giving us a present? It don’t look like it’ll explode.”

“Well, I don’t care…it’s  just sitting out there, left by someone that sneaked up in the middle of the night…couldn’t even hand it to us like a normal person. I don’t want to shoot anybody, either, and maybe we won’t have to, anyway. The cops are coming, so we’ll let them take care of it,” Steve said.

“Okay, fine…I’ll be in the kitchen. Let me know when Jimmy gets here,” Ghost said, as he went to do guard duty at the back door. After a few minutes, he hollered in to Steve, “Do ya want another cup of coffee? I can bring ya one.”

“Yeah, sure…might as well,” Steve said.

When Ghost got his own cup of steaming coffee, he sort of stepped outside of himself, thinking how absurd it was, to be having a coffee break in the middle of a stand-off. He started laughing at how ridiculous the situation was.

“Hey, Jimmy’s here,” Steve said, as the police cruiser came to a stop on the gravel driveway.

Jimmy looked around the property, as he got out of the car, then went up to the porch. Steve opened the front door. “Be careful, Jimmy. That package might be a booby trap.”

“Okay,” Jimmy said, then pushed the package with his boot. Nothing happened, so he reached down, picked it up, and shook it. “Don’t look like it’s gonna explode, Steve. Want me to open it?” he asked. “Is there a note or anything?”

“Don’t you dust for fingerprints?” Steve asked.

“Oh, yeah…well, we’ll try that later. I don’t see a card…who’s it from?” Jimmy asked.

“Hell, Jimmy, that’s why we called you…to find out.” Steve said.

Jimmy gave Steve a look, “Y’all been smokin’, this morning…all paranoid and shit?”

Steve shook his head. “No, not yet…maybe later. You can drop by, then, if ya want.”

“I’ll be off duty about five, so maybe I will.”

Ghost heard this and started giggling. Steve just invited Jimmy, the cop, to smoke weed with them, and he accepted. The whole thing was getting out of hand. Coffee breaks, getting high, exploding Christmas presents, guns…it was too much. He came into the living room, then out the front door, almost falling down from laughing. He felt dizzy, from being feverish, and drugged, and he still held the gun.

Steve and Jimmy ducked, as Ghost waved it around.

“Good God!” Jimmy yelled. “Quit waving that gun around, Ghost.”

Steve went in low, tackling Ghost at the knees, knocking him down. The gun flew out of his hand, and bounced, as it went down the porch steps. Luckily, it didn’t go off. Jimmy grabbed it, checking the safety. It was still on.

“Man, I could arrest both of you for having these,” he said. “Y’all aren’t even licensed…we’ve been through this, before.”

“Look, Jimmy…there’s somebody harassing us, and we gotta have protection. You know that,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I know,” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “Just be more careful.” He looked down at Ghost, who was still laying on the porch, where he’d fallen. He was staring up at the underside of the porch overhang. “What’s the matter with him?” 

“Aw, he’s sick, and took some Tylenol. Now he thinks he’s been drugged, and is seeing shit.” Steve shook his head. “Get up, Ghost, you’re fine.”

“But, Steve…look…look up there,” Ghost said, pointing up. “What is that?”

Steve and Jimmy looked. Frowning, Steve tried to make sense of what he saw. “Jimmy, what is it? It kinda looks like a…a…camera?”

“Yeah, I think so…one of those surveillance ones,” Jimmy said. “There’s a flashing green light on it, too. It must be recording us right now.”

“Why is it up there,” Steve asked.

“Didn’t y’all install it?”

“No, never seen it before. Oh my God…we’ve been spied on,” Steve said. “Jimmy, that crazy present person has been watching us. Get it down…check for fingerprints…do something!”

“Y’all got a ladder, or a chair I can stand on? I’ll need a screwdriver, too…that things bolted on,” Jimmy said.

Steve nodded. “Yeah…Ghost, get up…we’re almost stepping on ya. Go get a kitchen chair.”

Ghost got up and went inside, then coming back out, he had a chair, and a broom. “Here, can I smash it?” he asked.

“Not yet…and where’s the screwdriver?” Steve asked.

“Oh, I forgot it,” he said, going back inside.

“Jimmy,” Steve whispered, “can it hear us, too?”

“Won’t know until I look at it closer,” Jimmy said. “Oh, get a plastic bag, too, so I can take it back to headquarters.”

Steve yelled through the screen…”Ghost, get a Zip-lock bag…one of the big ones.”

Finally, Jimmy was able to stand on the chair, and unscrew the bolts. “It doesn’t look like it has sound, but I’ll have it checked out,” he said, zipping shut the bag, with the camera in it.  He started to leave, but then remembered the package. “You want me to take this, too?” he asked.

“Yeah, go ahead, then let us know what it is,” Steve said.

“Just be careful with those guns. I really don’t want y’all arrested for murder,” he said, getting back in the cruiser. “I’ll be back when my shift is over.”

Steve and Ghost watched him drive away. “Who do you think is doing this?” Steve asked.

“Maxy,” Ghost said.

“Maxy…that piece of shit?” Steve said. “You’re probably right. There was that rose he left, not long ago.”

Ghost nodded. “He’s still out there, too.”

“And you know this?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, and he’s gone, but not too far away…just over at the vampires old house. That’s where he’s camping out,” Ghost said. “That’s how he can sneak in and out of here so easy.”

“You got your senses back, now?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, a little…the drug is wearing off.”

“Well, good. Let’s go in. There’s no reason we should give him a clear shot of us,” Steve said, opening the screen. They went inside. Steve laid the guns on the coffee table, and Ghost went to the back room, to look for a potion. In a little while, the phone rang. It was Jimmy.

“Hey, Steve, I got some info for ya…uh…and that package…well, ya gotta see what it was, and let’s just say you won’t like it. I’ll bring it in a little while. My shift is almost over. You better roll up a few, ’cause I think you’ll need ’em,” he said.

Steve hung up the phone, just as Ghost came back with a dusty vial of some thick liquid. He held it up to the light bulb, in the table lamp. Trying to peer into it, he asked, “Ya think this is still any good?”

Steve made a face. “That’s disgusting, and old as hell. You’ll probably get sick, if you drink that shit.”

“Hmm…I don’t know,” said Ghost, as he unplugged the cork top. He smelled of it…and gagged. “Here, smell of it, Steve.” He held the vial under Steve’s nose.

“Get that away from me,” Steve said, pushing Ghost’s hand back.

“I’m gonna hold my nose, and drink it,” Ghost said, and before Steve could stop him, he did tip the bottle up, shaking the slow-running liquid into his mouth. Swallowing, then heaving, his eyes watered, but he managed to keep it down. “God, that was nasty.” He shuddered.

Steve was still staring in horror. “Well, now you’ve done it…don’t come bellyaching to me later, Ghost. He turned away, as the rancid smell wafted over to him.

“It’s supposed to be for sore throats and fever…things like that, Steve. At least I think so. The label fell off. Ugh, I’m gonna lay down now. I’m getting hot and dizzy,” Ghost said. He reeled down the hallway to his bedroom, and fell across the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Steve watched him go, and shook his head. Then, he got out his rolling papers, and the last bit of weed that Terry had given him. He thought about what Jimmy had said. It didn’t sound good.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 207

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 207

Warning … adult content

***

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE

# 207

warning…adult content

***

“Bye, y’all, Merry Christmas,” Steve said, as he left the club. The party had been fun, but he was ready to head home, and Ghost had already crashed. Getting in the car, he turned on the radio, to hum along to the music. He knew it wouldn’t bother Ghost. Driving down the highway in his T-bird like this, reminded him so much of all the times before that he and Ghost would ride around, just killing time. “Good times…” he said.

Arriving home, he nudged Ghost awake. “C’mon, we’re here,” he said. Grabbing the box of gifts, he went inside, followed by Ghost, who didn’t stop, but continued on to his bedroom, falling onto the bed. Spirit was hungry again, so Steve fixed him a plate of cat food, and scratched the kitty’s ears. “Yeah, Spirit, it was a good time tonight. You finish your food, and I’m going to bed, too.” He locked up, then looked in on Ghost. Shaking his head, he took off Ghost’s shoes, and covered him with a blanket. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, babe.”

~

During the night, Spirit alerted to a noise outside. He stalked quietly to the front door, listening. His fur rose up on his back, and he hissed. Then, as the noise stopped, he climbed into bed to snuggle with Ghost, until morning.

Not long after that, though, Ghost began having a bad dream. He thrashed around in bed, and spoke in a muffled voice. Spirit ran into Steve’s room, and pawed and meowed until Steve woke up. “What’s going on, cat? I’m trying to sleep,” Steve said, but the cat wouldn’t stop. Finally Steve was awake enough to hear Ghost. He got up to see about him.

“Ghost, wake up…you’re dreaming,” he said, as he shook him. “Wake up now…the nightmare will go away when you wake up.”

Ghost did wake up a bit, but the nightmare kept playing in his head for a few minutes. “You okay, now?” Steve asked. “What were you dreaming about?”

Ghost shook his head. “Yeah, but I don’t remember what it was…just a bad feeling, and I was hurting all over.”

Steve pushed back Ghost’s tangled hair. “You want me to stay in here with you?” Ghost nodded. “It’ll be morning soon, so scoot over. He pulled the blanket over them both, to block out the chill in the room. Ghost kept shivering, though.

Steve felt Ghost’s forehead…and it was hot. “He’s sick,” he said to himself. “Ghost, you’ve got a fever…I’ll bring you something.”

“A potion,” Ghost said, through chattering teeth.

Steve went to the kitchen, to get some Tylenol, and a glass of water, for Ghost. Just as he turned off the light, he thought he saw something move, out in the back yard. He looked closer, staring out the window, but didn’t see it again. Shrugging, he left the room. “Probably tree shadows,” he thought.

“Here, take these. I couldn’t find a potion,” he told Ghost as he helped him sit up.

“My throat hurts,” Ghost said, then took the pills, washing them down with the water. Laying back down, he said, “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, but try to sleep some more. The pills will help.” Steve slid back under the blanket. He didn’t mention what he’d seen outside.

“Where’s my cat?” Ghost asked.

“He’s over by the door. Here kitty…” Steve tried to get Spirit to come. “He won’t come over here.”

Ghost sighed, and mumbled something, as he was almost asleep, again. To Steve, it sounded weird…like Ghost had said, ‘he’s guarding me from being kidnapped’. “Huh?” he asked, but got no reply, now, from Ghost. “He must be dreaming, again,” Steve thought.

~

The next morning, Steve got up first. Ghost’s fever had come down some, and he was still sleeping, when Steve went to make the coffee, and some breakfast. When it was ready, he took a mug of it to Ghost, to wake him up.

“How are you feeling?”

Ghost opened bleary, bloodshot eyes. “Like crap,” he croaked out.

“You look like crap, too. Here’s your coffee. When ya get done, get up and wash your face. Breakfast is ready.”

Ghost nodded, then after a few minutes, he did get up, dragging himself into the kitchen. He watched, as Steve fixed him a plate of food.

“Here ya go…and Merry Christmas,” Steve said, trying to be cheerful.

Ghost eyed the plate. There were grits, scrambled eggs, toast, a glass of milk, and two more pills to take. He wasn’t sure if he could choke any of it down, but he tried. He swallowed the pills, then took a few bites.

“Go on, eat it, Ghost,” Steve said.

“I can’t anymore…” Ghost said. He got up from the table, and went into the living room, heading for the couch, but first, he wanted to look outside, to see how the day had started. Opening the door, he stepped out on the porch.

“Steve,” he yelled…or thought he did. It was barely loud enough for his own self to hear. He backed up through the door, and back into the house. “Steve,” he tried again. Steve did hear him, this time.

“What? What’s the matter…go back to bed,” Steve said.

But, Ghost was pointing toward outside. Steve looked, as he came up to the screen door. On the porch was a package…wrapped in Christmas paper.

Steve pushed Ghost back from the door. “Get back,” he said. He carefully looked all around the yard, and into the woods, near the house. There was nothing moving, or making a sound. He felt like someone was watching him, though. He could feel that someone was out there, waiting for him to come out and pick up the package. He didn’t like to show he was scared, but he also didn’t want to take a chance. No telling who put it there, or what kind of crazy was watching, from some shadowy hiding place.

He backed up, bumping into Ghost, and shut the door, locking it. Turning, he faced Ghost. “Get the guns, Ghost,” he said.

“What…why?” Ghost began.

“Just do it…and make sure they’re loaded. Someone is out there. I don’t know who, or why, but we’re not going out there. They may have their own gun…or maybe they booby trapped that package. It might explode or something.” Steve’s thoughts were running wild with sinister possibilities.

“Steve, you’re scaring me,” Ghost whispered.

“Go…” Steve said. “What if they rush the house…we have to be ready.” He turned to look out the front window, at a hopefully safe angle. The lacy curtains blocked the view somewhat, but he kept looking.

Ghost came back with their guns. “Here…now what?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, his eyes wide. “Now…uh…we wait,” he said.

“For how long…all day?” Ghost asked.

Blowing out a puff of breath, he said, “Ghost, I don’t know…until they either go away, or show themselves,” Steve said. “Don’t you sense anything…who it is, or why that package is here…anything?” He looked at Ghost as if he should have the answers.

Ghost shook his head. “No, I don’t…but my senses are out of whack. I’m sick, and drugged. I can’t feel anything, right now.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Great…and you are not drugged…you had some Tylenol…over the counter medicine…what are you talking about?”

Nodding, Ghost said, “Yeah, drugs, Steve. You know they make me goofy. I told ya before, I need a potion.”

“Well, tough…you just take Tylenol like everybody else…get used to it,” Steve said.

“But…” Ghost started to argue.

“Stop it…stop arguing everything I say, Ghost,” Steve gave him a look. “There’s a killer, or kidnapper, or someone out there, and we ain’t got time for this. Now, go get the phone…it’s in my room. I’m calling the sheriff.”

Ghost set the guns down on the coffee table, and went to find the phone. “Where in your room, Steve?” he asked, as loud as he could manage.

“Just look around…and hurry up,” Steve yelled back.

Ghost finally found it, then gave it to Steve. “Ya want me to guard the back door?” he asked.

“Yeah, good idea. I think I saw someone out there last night,” Steve said. He dialed 911. It rang several times, before being answered.

“911…what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yeah, we got a Christmas package on the front porch, and we’re scared it’s from a kidnapper, or some bad person, and it might blow up on us, if we pick it up…and I feel watched…like from the woods,” Steve said, in one long breath.

“You what?” the dispatcher asked.

Steve sighed. Small town crap… “Is Jimmy there? This is Steve. We got a prowler…send someone out here…huh?…Oh we’re fine, Margie…uh-huh…just send Jimmy out here, he knows where we live…yeah, we’re still out here on Burnt Church Road…He knows it. And hurry, okay? We got our guns, and we’ll shoot first, and ask question later, ya know,” Steve said, then hung up.

“Are we gonna shoot somebody?” Ghost asked. “I’m not shooting anybody.”

“You wanna be kidnapped…or blown up?” Steve asked

***

Next part coming soon!

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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2019 BS

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This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

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The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.