Tag Archives: Paranormal

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 31

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Two Souls: Into the Fire # 31

warning .. adult content

***

Steve left the mountain woman’s cabin, walking out of the mountain village and down the twisty road, back to the highway. His head was reeling. He had no idea which way to go. He didn’t want to go back home yet, so he started in the opposite direction, to the west…the same way Ghost had gone. As the sun went down and it began to get dark, a semi truck came down the highway… the trucker stopped for Steve.

As fate would have it, it was the same guy Ghost had hitched a ride with. Steve told the guy he was searching for his friend, who may have come this way. The man mentioned his other hitchhiker sounded like Steve’s friend. He didn’t mention what he’d done to him.

So, Steve knew he was on the right path, and when offered, he rode all the way to L.A. with the trucker. As they pulled up into the freight yard, he told Steve that this was the last place he’d seen him. Steve walked away, sure he was getting closer to finding Ghost.

He didn’t know just how close he’d be. He wandered around the area for a few days, putting out flyers with Ghost’s picture on it everywhere he went. He asked around, but no one had any information. That is until he went into a small coffee shop. He spoke to the barista about his search for Ghost.

She screamed, “I know him!” Steve insisted she tell him what she knew. She did, then added, “But, I haven’t seen them in awhile. They got too big for this place and started playing bigger venues. They put flyers up, but I haven’t been able to get off work to catch a performance. Maybe you can!”

Steve thanked her, then left. He walked around some more, now looking for the flyers. He finally found an old one tacked to a light pole. He tore it down and stared at the picture on it. It was definitely Ghost. His heart quickened. They’d played several nights before, at a place across the city, a popular club. Then he looked closer at the person in the picture with Ghost. He narrowed his eyes. He already didn’t like this Maxy person.

~

Back in Missing Mile, Kinsey was looking at the same flyer that Steve was looking at. Just that day, he’d received an envelope in the mail. It had the flyer for Ghost and Maxy’s band, and another flyer…one of those Steve had been putting up everywhere. Written on the first flyer was a note. It said, ‘Is this the Ghost you’re looking for? Don’t waste your time. He belongs to me now!’ It wasn’t signed. Kinsey just stared at it. Steve was somewhere out there, Ghost was somewhere out there…who knew if they’d ever find each other. It just keeps getting worse, he thought. I’m too old to deal with all this drama. He figured he’d just mind his own business for the time being. There was nothing he could do about it anyway. He shook his head and went back to work.

~

Steve continued his search. Every time he’d thought he was close, he found he was just a little too late. He kept on though, searching every group of people he saw, for a glimpse maybe of seeing Ghost.

The night of the phone call had made Maxy furious. He’d thrown Ghost into the wall, his phone was broken, and Ghost wasn’t co-operating according to his plans anymore. He was glad Ghost was hurting, there on the floor. He stood over him, telling him he’d crossed the line, that he owned him now, and he demanded Ghost do what he said, that he’d never let him go.

Ghost barely heard him. He’d hit his head hard on the brick accent wall, when he fell against it, and was half knocked out. A gash was cut into the back of his head, and was bleeding, his ears were ringing, and his vision was blurry. Then, Maxy was yelling what sounded like nonsense at him. Ghost tried to sit up, but was extremely dizzy. Before he could do anything, Maxy attacked him. He held Ghost down and took him by force, in anger and dominance.

Ghost was defenseless against such rage. Afterwards, he vowed to himself to get away as soon as he could. He was afraid for his life. He knew he needed help, but from who? He really didn’t know anyone in this city, and he’d been kept pretty isolated by Maxy, and now Maxy would be watching him even closer.

The next morning, Maxy was all apologetic, and said he was sorry, but Ghost didn’t believe it for a second. He went along with it, fearing that if he didn’t, he’d be in for more trouble. Maxy did have another plan for controlling Ghost.  He’d found that whenever he’d slipped Ghost something stronger than pot, Ghost would mellow out and be pliable…he could get him to do anything. He didn’t know why, because the same drugs made everyone he knew all hyper. He didn’t know about Ghost’s ADD problem, and that stimulants worked the exact opposite on it.

So he started slipping the drugs into whatever Ghost ate or drank. It worked just like he planned. What else he didn’t know, was that when Ghost was in the calm state, his mind would do what it did best. Ghost was able to actually focus and sent out his mind messages even stronger, and could receive and feel other’s thoughts better, too.

For the next few days, as Ghost’s head cleared of the dizziness and headache, he kept getting visions and dreams of Steve. They were unfiltered, and seemed desperate and frantic…and worst of all, nearby. He couldn’t get the feelings to go away. He didn’t really want them to go away, just wanted to know what they meant. He pushed his mind in Steve’s direction. Maybe that would clarify things better. He felt that Steve was here, close by, looking for him. He was torn. He wanted Steve to find him, but he wasn’t sure he could face him yet.

He and Maxy had another show booked that night. It went ok…a big crowd showed up. Then, as they were leaving, Ghost froze, thinking he saw Steve, there on the sidewalk. Steve did not see him, the crowd was pushing and shoving along as they left the venue. Steve was pushed along, too. Ghost was sure it was him, but he looked so sad and beaten down.

Maxy had seen Ghost staring at something, someone in the crowd, and he didn’t like it. He grabbed Ghost’s arm tightly and dragged him back into the club. He kept Ghost next to him the rest of the night.

Steve had tried to get to the club where Ghost was playing that night. He’d finally found a current flyer and made his way over there, getting lost a few times. As he reached the club, everyone was leaving, and he knew he’d missed his chance at finding Ghost…again. He hung around anyway, just in case, but the club was closing, and he’d never gotten to see Ghost. He was sick of this. He had no money or place to stay. He couldn’t find Ghost. Maybe he should go back home to regroup, figure out some other way, because this wasn’t working.

So, late that night he got out on the highway and hitched back to North Carolina. It took three days. He was exhausted. Back at the house, he collapsed into bed, not waking for hours. Ghost was in his dreams.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 30

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 30

warning … adult content

***

Steve sat at the old woman’s kitchen table, listening to what she had to say.

“He told me everything, Steve…about everything, his whole life poured out in front of me…the good times and the bad. The death of his grandmother was especially hard for him. She was my best friend back then, Steve. I told her not to take Ghost away, but she wouldn’t listen. He told me about you, too. What you did to him…Steve, when my husband found him out there by the graveyard, and brought him here,” she let a tear fall, “he was dead, Steve. I’m convinced of that. We carried him inside and laid him on the bed. There were a couple of last breaths, and he whispered your name. We were frantic. We didn’t know what to do, but we gave him CPR as best we could. It took so long, but he finally came back to us.” She paused for a moment.

“He wasn’t right, Steve. He was out of his mind, didn’t know where he was, who he was, only mumbled gibberish. He had these awful shaking fits, saw visions, screamed in the night. And then his injuries were taking so long to heal. There was infection and high fevers. I gave him all the medicine I could. It finally started to work. Slowly, he began to recover. At least his body did…his spirit, his life force was almost completely gone. He had no real will to live, was kind of upset that he did live…kept begging me to just forget about him, to let him go. But, I could never do that. I loved him already…he was my best friend’s grandson. I’d never let him will himself to die.

He got well enough. I urged him to get out in the community to get to know people, to learn some of his heritage. It was okay for a while, but then it started with the others. I was afraid for him…and he knew he should leave…and so, he did. I’ve not heard anything from him since. I pray every day for his safety. Steve, if anyone can find him, it’s you. I know that when he is ready to be found, he will let you know. His gift is so strong, he will make himself known, and I’m sure he will someday,” she paused again.

Steve could not stop sobbing. She reached over and wrapped him in her arms. He needed someone to care about him as much as Ghost did. “What will become of these two,” she wondered, “these two who are meant to be together for all of time?” She didn’t know, but she had faith that somehow it would work out, if not in this lifetime, maybe in the next. She knew in her heart that their souls were intertwined since the beginning of time, and they’d had many meetings before…and here they were again, struggling to make it work.

Finally, Steve could form words, again. “Why would Ghost even want me now? He hates me, he put a curse on me! He’d never let me find him!” he despaired.

She was surprised to hear that Ghost had put a curse on Steve. How did he even know about things like that? It must be an innate knowledge, passed down for generations.

“Don’t fret about it, Steve. I know you are a good person, deep inside. Something evil possessed you beyond your control that night. It was decided many lifetimes ago, that both of your souls would have strife, that you and Ghost would meet and part many, many times over the millennia. Ghost is always meant to be your soul-mate, and you are his. It was written in the stars. Ghost will never forsake you, Steve. That is the one thing you can count on. He will come back to you…when the time is right.

Ghost loves you, a love so deep and pure, that he would die for you, he would die because of you, he would die without you. He’s already proven that, in so many ways. Have faith, Steve. I can tell, you must think I’m just an old, crazy, raving lunatic, talking gobbledygook, but trust me, I’m speaking the truth.”

Steve nodded, and said he’d try. “So, what now? Do I just wait around for a mind message from Ghost to come get him, or what? How am I supposed to do that? I need to do something..it’s killing me!”

She smiled, and told him that’s all he could really do. “Be open to any feelings you get, anything strange or out of order…it could be a message from Ghost. You think it’s impossible, but just let go, Steve. It’s more difficult when you try too hard to figure it out. Relax and let the messages come and guide you. You can still search for him, do what you can, leave your flyers and information everywhere you go. It may help.”

Steve jumped up from the chair, and paced around. “Don’t tell me again ‘when the time is right’! The time is right for me to find him right now!”

She could understand his frustration. “Then go…go do everything you can, Steve. He needs you just as much as you need him. I’ll pray for your success and safety, as I will for Ghost’s.” She squeezed his hands.

Steve closed his eyes and nodded, “I know,” he whispered. He turned to leave, but she stopped him.

“Steve, wait, I just remembered something.” She went upstairs. When she came back down, she had an envelope in her hands. “This is yours…from Ghost. He said he knew you’d be here someday, and to give this to you. You would know it was from him, and no one else.

Steve opened the sealed envelope. Inside was a short note, in Ghost’s handwriting, in sky blue marker. It said,

“I’m so lost, Steve. I still love you. Ghost”…and with the note was two crumpled up silver stars that had been in Ghost’s back pack. They’d come from the ceiling in Ghost’s bedroom in Missing Mile.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 29

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 29

warning … adult content

***

***

Steve started walking up the unfamiliar road. It was still mid-afternoon, but the woods were so thick and shady, it seemed like twilight. In spite of himself, he was a little spooked. These people were probably watching him already…with loaded shotguns. He hoped he didn’t trip over some tree roots, or anything, and fall and break his other arm.

He was right about the people watching him make his way up the trail. They always had a sentry on watch…for just this reason…a stranger coming their way. Word was sent back to the settlement in record time. Steve would be met by a ‘welcoming’ group…with shotguns.

As Steve came to the top of the trail into a clearing, he was breathing hard. He stopped a minute, looking out over a rustic little town. He thought it kind of looked like a movie set. Stores, wooden sidewalks, porches with rocking chairs, log cabins, wash hanging on the lines, horses and buggies…he smiled. It was definitely  not what he’d expected.

He started toward the area, when just ahead of him, out stepped a group of men. Steve stopped and stared…this is what he expected…shotguns, guys in flannel shirts and denim overalls. The leader of the group spoke,

“What ‘cha doin’ up here?”

Steve stuggled to collect his thoughts. These are the hillbillies he’d always heard of…the hippies…the mountain people…Ghost’s people! The way they looked, with their longish, light brown to white blond hair, the strange blue eyes, the way they talked…”Oh, my God, the way they talk, it’s pure Ghost!” he thought.

“Uh…I’m here to ask if you know of a guy, my friend…came up here about a year or so ago. I heard he may have come this way. I just want to know if anyone can tell me anything…” Steve’s voice faded, as he saw the looks he got from the group…and the looks that passed between the men. He felt they knew something, but the head guy just said,

“There’s no strangers up in here…just you.”

He didn’t look very friendly. He didn’t look like he’d volunteer any information. Steve was trying to think fast, to think what he should say or do to make them understand how important this was to him.

Word had gotten around already, that someone was here, and others were venturing out of the houses and stores, to stare at him. Some little kids came running around the corner of a building, playing some chasing game. Steve’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe what he saw…young, little Ghost’s – they all looked like Ghost as a kid.

The men were all still deciding whether to run him off their property, when an older woman came up to the group. She took one look at Steve, and said his name.

“Steve,” she said, not unkindly.

The men gave her a warning look, but she stood her ground, and waved them away.

“I’ll take care of this’un…y’all go on now.”

They protested a little, but slowly walked away. Steve knew they’d not go far, and would still be watching.

“How do you know my name?” he asked the woman.

“Ghost told me,” she said, simply. “He told me all about you, Steve.”

Steve ran his hand over his sweaty face, and into his scraggly hair, as he looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry. I never meant for anything bad to happen,” he was almost in tears.

“C’mon, Steve, let’s go inside,” she said, leading him to her cabin. She gave him some cool spring water, and let him cool off a bit, before speaking again.

“You aren’t supposed to find him, Steve, until the time is right. I guess you haven’t found him yet, if you’re up here, then.” she sighed. “He’s not here anymore…left about six months ago. Things were getting ugly…” she shook her head. “It shouldn’t have. We are Ghost’s people, his family, but Miz Deliverance took him away when he was too young. And now, to come back, well…it was like a stranger came back, an outsider. I think Ghost didn’t know where he fit in. Not back in Missing Mile, and not here either, really. It’s a shame what went on. Some of the young men here, well, Ghost is such a pure soul, and so giving and trusting…they took advantage of that. I tried to get him to stay, said it’d get better, but he knew it wouldn’t…said he had to go.”

She stopped, staring Steve right in the eyes, with a hard look. Steve had said nothing.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 28

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 28

warning … adult content

***

Ghost, still talking on the phone with Kinsey, saw Maxy advancing on him, with rage in his eyes.

“I gotta g…” he started, but didn’t finish his goodbye to Kinsey, because Maxy grabbed him and threw him across the room. The phone went flying and crashed onto the tile floor of the entryway, where it broke. Kinsey had only heard someone bellow, “Get off the phone, Ghost,” and the sound of of Ghost being thrown up against the wall. He heard Ghost cry out, “Leave me alone!” then the phone crashed, and the connection was broken.

Kinsey was frantic. He wanted to help Ghost, but there was no way…no way at all. He didn’t even know where he was calling from. He paced around the room, thinking of every angle he could, to trace the call. He called the phone company, but they couldn’t tell him much. It was long distance, was all they could say, unless an investigation demanded their phone records.

Kinsey tried to calm down, telling himself Ghost would be okay. He was able to survive all this time on his own, surely he could take care of himself.

He never went back to bed…just sat up drinking coffee…cup after cup, deciding whether to talk to Steve. In the end, he decided he would have to. In the morning he’d drive out to Ghost’s house on Burnt Church Road, and confront Steve. He dreaded it. Steve had gone from raging rapist, to a broken down drunk, when he couldn’t find Ghost.

He’d heard about Steve’s search. It had gone on for almost a year. Steve had criss-crossed the country in his old T-bird, asking for any word or sighting of Ghost, and came up with absolutely nothing. He’d left flyers and contact information everywhere he went…big towns, little towns, clubs and bars, hippie communes, thrift stores, and voo-doo shops, but he’d had no luck.

Then, about six months ago, he’d gotten a lead. It was quite by accident…a real accident. Steve was driving home from Raleigh, after drinking too much, and crashed his T-bird into a tree. The car was totaled, and Steve was hospitalized with broken bones and lacerations. He spent a couple of weeks there.

Terry had gone up to see him there, and said Steve was in pretty bad shape, but would survive, at least survive his injuries. It seemed he’d almost lost his will to live, kept going on about how Ghost had put a hoo-doo curse on him, and he might as well die right now, rather than go on being cursed by his best friend.

He finally got released from the hospital, and on the way back home, had to hitch hike, since he had no car anymore. A guy in an old pick-up gave him a ride. He saw Steve trudging along the side of the road, with his arm in a sling, and stopped to see if he needed a ride.

They got to talking, and Steve told him some of the story, about the accident, and how he’d been searching for his missing friend. The man mentioned he was on his way to visit family, up in the mountains. He’d heard talk of a stranger that came to stay, maybe about a year and a half ago, he wasn’t sure…wasn’t even at his family’s little place. He’d just heard it through the grapevine. It didn’t involve his people, so he didn’t put much thought into it…just another bit of mountain gossip.

“Maybe it was your friend?” he asked.

Steve thought about it and mentally groaned. Why hadn’t he remembered…Ghost came from the mountains…maybe he’d gone back there.

“It all fits,” he said, getting excited. “That’s where I should have started looking. But, I wouldn’t even know where to start. There’s a lot of mountains. Can you take me there?” Steve asked. “I have to find out if anyone up there knows anything at all.”

“Well, I reckon so…I’m going there anyway, and could use the company. It’s at least another two or three hours, though,” said the man.

They kept on driving down the highway, past Missing Mile, and soon came to the first crossroads off the highway, that led up to the first settlement. The man stopped, and told Steve that up that twisty, dirt road was a little community. Maybe he could start asking for information on his friend, there.

“My family is on up the highway, and I know they didn’t take in any strangers,” he said.

Steve nodded, and thanked the man for the ride. He’d take it from here.

“Well, good luck then…uh…I guess I should give you a bit of advice. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the kind of people up here, but they don’t really take to outsiders much, so don’t be too surprised if they’re pretty wary and closed mouthed. They’re good people, but have been set in their ways for probably a hundred years. They don’t like change. I hope you get some information.”

Steve said he understood, and they went their separate ways.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 27

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 27

warning … adult content

***

As Ghost finished his song, a hush fell over the venue. Everyone stopped playing, the people stopped singing, and the spotlight shut off. Complete and utter darkness enveloped the room, as a slight breeze from the overhead fans blew out the lighters. Total silence – everyone’s ears were muffled in the aftermath of excruciating decibels. Then pandemonium broke out. People were screaming, crying, falling over each other, trying to reach the door to get out. The venue manager managed to get to the fuse box and flip a switch to get the lights back on. His club was in a shambles.

Maxy had dropped his guitar in the dark, and felt his way over to Ghost, who was still on his knees, crying. Maxy was afraid they’d both fall off the stage. He helped Ghost up, and they stumbled backstage, tripping on instruments and power cords, and over other band members. By the time the lights came back on, they had exited the back door, and taken off in Maxy’s car.

Ghost was unresponsive. Maxy was scared. What the hell was gonna happen now, he frantically thought. He hoped Ghost was ok first, then a crazy thought came to him, at least crazy at a time like this. He realized he was sitting on a gold mine! This was his and Ghost’s ticket to the big time – to fame and fortune! He couldn’t stifle a laugh at his own delusions of grandeur. He had plans…awesome plans. He just had to get Ghost to go along with them.

He glanced over at Ghost, who still seemed to be in a trance, eyes half closed, leaning his head on the car window. “Shouldn’t be too hard,” Maxy thought. “Ghost’ll do anything I tell him to,” he laughed again.

What he didn’t know, was that Ghost had heard it all…all his plans for them…and felt the underlying need for complete control. Greediness had taken over this basically good kid, and turned him into just another kind of vampire…a soul sucker, and Ghost knew he’d almost been sucked dry by Maxy…almost.

Later, Maxy told Ghost of his big plans for them. Ghost had already heard them, but tried to discourage Maxy against moving too fast, to let it ride for awhile. It did no good. By the next night, they’d been booked solid for a month of gigs around town. Ghost felt so trapped. Maxy wouldn’t let Ghost out of his sight. He knew Ghost would bolt, if he got the chance.

Ghost’s life source, his soul’s path for him, was still alive inside. A tiny flicker still, but beginning to make itself known. Ghost could feel the restlessness beginning again, like it had done up in the mountains. He couldn’t verbalize it yet, but it was felt.

The two of them continued to play their gig commitments, but it was routine, nothing like the incredible set they’d done that unforgettable night. Maxy was beside himself, with begging Ghost to do it again. Ghost never would. He would not relent to Maxy’s pleadings.

Then, late one night, after Maxy had gone to sleep, Ghost eased himself out of bed, and quietly closed the door. In the living room, he found Maxy’s phone. He knew that the big letter O would get someone on the line. He hoped it would work. He pushed the button, and an operator answered. He asked quietly, if they could call a place for him. He explained that he didn’t know the number. She said yes, and he asked her to call the Sacred Yew, in Missing Mile, North Carolina.

He hoped Kinsey would be there to answer. Kinsey lived above the club, so he’d hear the phone, if he was there. It rang and rang…he didn’t dare hang up, just in case. Finally a sleepy voice answered.

“This better be good, waking an old man up in the middle of the night,” Kinsey growled into the phone.

Ghost was startled to hear Kinsey’s voice, from all the way back home. He hardly ever talked on a phone, and was still amazed that such a thing could be possible. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Kinsey could hear breathing on the other end, and started to hang up, but suddenly had a strong image in his mind, of Ghost. Ghost had without even trying, projected his image into Kinsey’s mind, willing him to not hang up yet.

Kinsey had thought about Ghost a lot in the past year and a half, since he’d left. No one had ever heard what had become of him…least of all, Steve. And Steve had not been back to the club since that fateful day. So, he took a chance and said,

“Ghost?”

He heard a sobbing on the other end, and knew for certain, it was him.

“Where are you, are you all right, are you coming home, how can I help you? Answer me right now, Ghost!”

The sobbing continued, and Kinsey got the image of heartbreaking homesickness and loneliness….and something more…some kind of trouble. Ghost didn’t say any of that…his feelings just crossed the ether of space into Kinsey’s mind.

“Kinsey,” Ghost managed to choke out. “I just needed to hear a familiar voice. I miss home.”

“Where are you, Ghost, I’ll come and get you right now!” Kinsey pleaded to the distraught boy.

“I can’t come right now,” Ghost sobbed. “There’s some things I have to do.”

Kinsey thought for a minute. “Steve misses you, Ghost. He’s not been the same. He’s messed up his life. Should I tell him you called?”

Ghost sucked in his breath at the mention of Steve. In a firmer voice, he said, “I don’t care what you tell him…just don’t come looking for me…it’s not time yet. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on, Kinsey, but I’m trying to…every day I’m trying to hold on till the time is right.”

Kinsey had no idea what Ghost was babbling on about, but it broke his heart to hear the despair in his voice…and that he wouldn’t let anyone help him. He hoped Ghost could work it out before it was too late.

Just then, Ghost heard Maxy opening the door to the bedroom, coming out looking angry to see Ghost using his phone.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 26

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 26

warning … adult content

***

As morning dawned, Ghost and Maxy shared more of themselves with each other. Nothing would ever compare to their first time, but it was amazing, still. Their days continued much as before, playing gigs, laughing, loving…but, some subtle shadow tinged their relationship. They both felt it, if not acknowledged yet. There was a slight pulling away on Ghost’s part, and a slight tightening of control on Maxy’s.

From time to time, Ghost allowed himself to think of Steve, of Missing Mile, of everything back home. Before, he couldn’t have let his mind take him there. It was like poking at a deep sore, and starting the pain and bleeding all over again. But, now, time passing had formed a scar over the pain, and a gentle poking didn’t hurt so bad.

He seemed to get caught up in his daydreams, spacing out, even forgetting some words to the songs on stage. He’d just stand there silent and staring, lost in a vision of his life back home. Maxy didn’t understand it at all. He got angry at Ghost sometimes, and Ghost could not explain what he was feeling. Later, he would realize that he was terribly homesick. Even while performing, having good times with Maxy, and all the noise, lights and unending party atmosphere of L. A., there was an underlying sadness about him.

His eyes spoke of his sorrow, a cloud of darkness hovered over his head. He couldn’t seem to shake it off. He cried himself to sleep many nights, as Maxy tried to comfort him. But, Maxy got frustrated that he couldn’t make Ghost happy, even trying as hard as he could…in the most caring of ways, then in more forceful ways.

He felt Ghost was very pliable, would go along with whatever he suggested, not caring one way or another what happened to him, and Maxy took advantage of Ghost’s vulnerability at this time. Everyone who saw them perform adored Ghost, wanted to touch him, to get his attention, to have him for their own. Maxy felt jealous. He admitted it to himself. Before he and Ghost were together, he was the center of attention. Now, he felt like he was just background. So, with seemingly good intentions, he began to suggest that Ghost should see other guys, to try something a little stronger than weed, to add some variety into their relationship and performances.

It happened gradually. Maxy’s plan was for Ghost to hate it, and come to realize what they meant to each other, and Ghost would snap out of his depression. He urged Ghost to go have fun with whatever guy asked for a good time with him. He even slipped mood altering drugs into Ghost’s food and drinks, hoping to get Ghost to feel emotion of some kind, besides sadness; and, it didn’t hurt, he thought, that most of these set up dates would pay money for a night with Ghost. He felt betrayed though, when Ghost went willingly to bed with these strangers. His plan had backfired. Ghost was not snapping back, was not feeling closer to him.

He’d hear Ghost calling for Steve almost every night in his dreams. Then, Maxy would roughly shake Ghost awake, and forcefully take him, again and again, crying for Ghost to love him, and him only. But, Ghost didn’t care…couldn’t care. He’d let Maxy do anything to his body, but Maxy could never quite reach his mind, or heart…they were almost completely closed off to him now.

~

Then one night on stage, things took a strange turn. They had played a good set, the crowd was having a good time, Ghost was again seeming to enjoy himself. Maxy was in a good mood. He’d bought Ghost a silver ring, engraved with his and Ghost’s name inside the band. He knew Ghost loved shiny things, and had given him a silver chain after they’d met – it was real silver, same as the ring. The necklace had a key charm on it, and he’d gotten himself one too, with a silver heart. The meaning was obvious, even if it was a bit juvenile, but they wore them anyway.

Ghost was wearing the ring tonight, the stage lights making it gleam. The last chords of their last song were still vibrating in the air, when Ghost looked out at the audience, and said in his slow, southern, mountain voice,

“One more.”

Ghost turned to Maxy and the back up band, and instructed them to play a certain riff over and over…just that, nothing else. He signaled the stage lights manager to dim the lights, all except the one spotlight on him, in a soft, filtered yellow. The special effects fog machine was still going from the last song, and that was left on. Then Ghost signaled to begin the bass line. He looked down at his audience, through white gold strands of hair. The effect was mesmerizing. Ghost looked back at Maxy, who was playing the beat with a questioning look in his eyes. He had no idea what Ghost was doing, and was just as transfixed as everyone else.

Ghost turned toward the audience again, kissed the silver ring, and raised that hand way up into the air. Leaning in, he took hold of the microphone with the other hand, and wailed the absolute loudest, soul agonizing scream anyone had ever heard amplified through the speakers.

It startled everyone. Some started screaming themselves, but couldn’t look away. Some thought Ghost had been electrocuted, when he grabbed the mic, but he didn’t die, he finished his scream and just stared at them. Somehow, Maxy and the band had kept playing the slow, low bass riff during all of this. Ghost kept staring at the crowd, like his sky blue eyes could pierce everyone’s heart, and he could see to their very core being…and unbeknownst to them…he could.

He took a shuddery breath then, and began his “World”* song. The one he’d written years ago…the one on the Lost Souls? tape. Maxy had never heard Ghost sing it live. His heart was pounding along with the beat, and he thought he’d never heard anything so beautiful. This was what Ghost was all about, this was the true Ghost, this was Ghost’s legacy…not some stale 80’s covers.

“Oh, my God,” he thought. “No wonder Ghost has been so sad, to never have been able until now to sing as he was born to do.”

Maxy felt tears falling from his eyes. “What have I done to him? Please forgive me,” he sobbed.

Ghost sang the sad, but hopeful song over and over. The audience was swaying back and forth, and singing along to the simple, yet powerful words, already. At that moment, the dimmed lights went completely out, and people brought out their lighters, and turned on their cell phones, showing their appreciation, there in the dark. Only the spotlight was left on…on Ghost, illuminating the mist swirling around him. His hair was backlit into a shimmery, golden aura that flowed and ebbed within the fog, and tears of crystal flowed down his face.

He closed his eyes, and slowly sank down to his knees. He bowed his head and sobbed, as he whispered the song one last time. Raising his hand again, the ring caught the light, and rays of pure gold fanned out from it…and Ghost was done.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 25

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 25

warning … adult content

***

Maxy wanted to hear Ghost sing all his songs from the tape, but Ghost refused. That was over and done with, he said. Feeling a little disappointed, Maxy, nevertheless, showed Ghost their set list, mostly covers of 80’s rock bands, and a few tries at originals. This was a different genre than Ghost was used to, as his and Steve’s sound was more of a laid back, southern rock type of music, and of course all of Ghost’s original songs. But, Ghost had heard most of these songs that Maxy was including, and he had no trouble making them his own, adding a few different words, and asking Maxy to slow down the tempo, or speed it up.

The practice went well, and they were scheduled to play the next night. Maxy invited Ghost to his small bungalow, and so they took off, waving to the girl as they left. At the house that Maxy rented, they had a few beers, and talked for hours. It was a little awkward for Ghost, though. He was trying to figure out this person he’d just met. He was good looking in a goth sort of way, but he got the feeling it was mostly an act. The long, straight, black hair, the black clothes he wore, and the stage makeup he wore, that Ghost had seen in a poster at the coffee place, looked fake.

He could also see into Maxy’s mind and heart. He was uncomfortable doing this, but images and thoughts kept coming…not all of them matching up with his words. He seemed all good time party boy on the outside, but looking deeper, it seemed to Ghost, that Maxy was a calculating, serious schemer; someone who had everything planned out, and would go to great lengths to see that his ideas and plans would happen. Not evil, just determined to get his way, no matter what. Ghost’s inner radar sent up red flags…but, he thought he could handle whatever came about…after all, he had his early warning system.

But, he misjudged Maxy’s obsessive determination to make Ghost fall in love with him. Maxy was fascinated and intrigued by the pale, blond boy that he was now sharing his house with. He’d never seen anyone like Ghost before.

Yeah, the goth kids here in L. A. painted their faces pale, and the surfer crowd had lots of blondes, but they all were tanned underneath the posing…even himself. This southern boy was a natural. He had something about him that seemed to glow, seemed very ethereal. He was drawn to his very being by something invisible, and of course his voice…his voice…he could drown in it. He wanted him. He wanted him the second he saw him. He wanted him in every way possible…and he would have him, he vowed. But, he had to go easy, and not frighten Ghost away. He was a nervous, magical being, and might disappear into the ether, just as he’d appeared. So, Maxy and Ghost began their singing partnership, and slowly began their love affair.

~

Maxy and Ghost were an instant hit with the coffee shop crowd, and eventually played other venues around L. A. They both enjoyed it. Ghost wrote new songs and sang old 80’s ones, and his voice drew everyone in. His past life with Steve was put way back in his memories, for awhile at least, and Maxy helped him forget his pain of that time. He showered Ghost with attention…praising him, adoring him, giving him gifts, and showing him love the best he knew how…to keep Ghost near, and to keep Ghost his…forever.

Ghost put away the voices in his head, for awhile. He needed to be loved…that’s all he’d ever, ever needed. It had not come easily in his life so far, but he hoped this time it was for real. At first it was…on both sides. Their first time was on a dark, stormy night, not long after they met. . They were scheduled to play an outdoor set, but it got cancelled because of the storm.

They’d had to make a run for it, carrying guitars and microphones, and anything else they could carry, through pouring rain and crashing lightning. They were completely soaked by the time they unloaded the car at the house. Slipping, and giggling, and falling over each other in the hurry to get inside, something just clicked between them. A storm of a different kind was taking over them. They lay on the floor where they’d fallen, catching their breath, tangled limbs, wet strands of blond and black hair co-mingling in a jumble, as they lay close together in their heap of equipment.

Maxy turned his head toward Ghost, reached up with a damp hand, pulling Ghost’s face to his. He tentatively kissed Ghost’s raindrop spattered lips…and Ghost kissed him back.

“Oh, Ghost, I’ve wanted to do this forever,” Maxy sighed.

Ghost nodded and whispered, “I think I’ve wanted you to do this forever.”

They made their way to Maxy’s bedroom, stripping off their wet clothes, if not quite all of their inhibitions. They lay among the blankets, and tentatively stroked and caressed each other. As their breathing became faster, their kisses warmer and deeper, Ghost moaned deep in his throat at the pleasure Maxy was giving him. Maxy’s heart swelled with love for this magical creature called Ghost, this not quite innocent being with light surrounding him, yet a thread of sadness running through his life. Their bodies were growing more insistent, more demanding with sexual tension that might snap any second, and when Ghost breathed into Maxy’s ear the words, “Now, Maxy, now,” he claimed Ghost as his own.

It was different than either had ever felt before, as if some powerful force had taken over their bodies and minds, and melded them together. They had no control over the feelings, as wave after wave of pleasure bathed over them.

Then as the ultimate, intimate release took over their heightened senses, Ghost’s subconscious shot an image of Steve, his true love, into his mind, and he called out Steve’s name, then began sobbing.

He had no idea if he’d spoken aloud or if it was in a dream state. He cried for him and Steve, and he cried for his and Maxy’s love, too…and what would become of himself now.

Maxy’s euphoria continued, as he murmured Ghost’s name and stroked Ghost’s pale hair, kissed his forehead, and those sky blue eyes full of tears. He tried to soothe the sobbing boy, that still lay under him, not knowing why he cried. Had he heard Ghost call out Steve’s name? He wasn’t sure, but he was as sure as he could be, that Ghost would soon forget Steve. He would make sure of that. Ghost was his now, and he would do anything to keep him.

As they fell asleep in each other’s arms, the storm outside abated, and it grew quiet. Only the dark of night knew what dreams and plans the two were having. One was being guided by the very essence of his psyche, and his God given heritage…the other by his greed and lust.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 24

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 24

warning … adult content

***

Ghost was oblivious to what was going on there in the little coffee shop. As he’d zoned out, the door opened and Maxy came in, all business as usual, as this was his home away from home, and had been for a long time. He grabbed a coffee and chatted up the barista, flirting as usual. She flirted right back, knowing nothing was serious. Maxy was into guys these days. She mentioned he had someone to interview, and that he looked like Maxy’s type. She winked at him.

Maxy turned around to look, and almost dropped his coffee. Grabbing the girl’s arm, he said, “Lock the door, the interviews are over.”

“What are you talking about, Maxy? I can’t lock the doors, this is a business with paying customers.”

He gave her a look, and she understood…no more interviews. If anyone else came in, send them away.

“Ok, but what’s the deal, Maxy?”

His hand was trembling, still on her arm. “I know this guy…or at least I know of him. Oh, my God, I can’t believe it’s him, right here in my coffee bar!”

She laughed, “Your coffee bar?”

“Well, you know what I mean. This guy…this guy…oh, my God…his name is Ghost! Yeah, he’s the best singer I’ve ever, ever heard. But, why is he here? He sings for a band called ‘Lost Souls’. I have their tape – it’s amazing! But, they play out on the east coast, some southern state. Did they break up? I gotta find out. I gotta go over there and talk to him, oh shit!”

“Maxy, what’s got into you? I’ve never seen you so star struck before. Go on over there, he won’t bite. I talked to him and gave him some coffee…he’s nice.”

Maxy gulped, nodded, and slowly walked over to where Ghost, eyes closed, was still in his zone. Maxy stared at him a full minute, glanced back at the girl, who motioned…go on, wake him up.

Maxy whispered, “Ghost!”

At that, Ghost’s eyes flew open, and he startled so much he almost droppped the coffee he held. If it hadn’t been for the plastic lid, he would have spilled it all over himself. He was looking into dark blue eyes, not two feet in front of him.

“Aii, wha’cha want?” Ghost wailed, as he tried to scramble backwards farther into the plush leather sofa, pulling his knees up under his chin, feet on the edge of the seat. He was still a little in dreamland, and didn’t quite yet know where he was, or why.

“Get outta my head, leave me alone!” he continued to wail.

Maxy and the barista were taken by surprise by Ghost’s reaction. They stared at Ghost, she behind the counter, and he, sitting on the floor in front of Ghost, where he’d landed, as he jumped back and fell over when Ghost yelled. Ghost’s outburst was winding down, as he began to come out of his dreams. He shook his newly washed hair into his face, peering wide-eyed from between the golden strands, at Maxy. His body was trembling from the adrenaline shooting through it, his brain ricocheting around, sending spiders of fright all around. He was having one of his electrical storm episodes, which hadn’t happened in awhile, and Steve wasn’t there to pull him out of it. His pupils dilated, and he breathed unevenly. He felt dizzy and faint.

Maxy and the girl were frozen, not knowing what was happening. Maxy turned out to be no good in a crisis, but the girl finally ran over with some cold rags, and bathed Ghost’s face.

“Is he on drugs?” she hollered at Maxy. “Get up and help, Maxy,” she kicked at the boy on the floor to get him moving.

At the sound of her voice, and the cold wetness on his face, Ghost began to come out of it, little by little, until he just lay there on the sofa, exhausted, and let his breathing return to normal.

“What happened?” Ghost whispered, still a little shaky.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine (I hope). You had some kind of fit, I guess. Has this happened before? Are you on drugs? Do you need to go to the hospital?” She was so nervous, she talked fast. Ghost caught only part of it, but shook his head, saying he’d be ok in a minute…that it happens to him sometimes.

Maxy found his voice then, and said loudly, “Ghost! You’re crazy, man! I love you!” and he gave Ghost a big hug. “You’re hired, you’re my new singer, and I hope my best friend!” he continued.

Ghost eased himself up, still reeling a little, “But I haven’t done the inter…”

“I don’t care. I’ve heard you sing before…on your Lost Souls? tape. You’re mine now…if you’ll have me?”

“Sorry I freaked out on y’all,” Ghost said, in his Carolina drawl. “Guess I’ll try singing for ya then,” he smiled a crooked grin, and looked clearly into Maxy’s dark blue eyes. They both felt something pass between them. Something special, something exciting, and something a little dangerous.

The barista felt it too, as she watched them. Shaking her head, she muttered, “Here we go,” and went back to her coffee counter.

Ghost and Maxy sat in the alcove, talking, getting to know each other a little. Maxy told Ghost how he’d come to have the Lost Souls? tape. Seemed someone at one of Maxy’s performances had been in North Carolina a few years back, and had seen Lost Souls? perform at the Sacred Yew. They’d bought one of the homemade tapes that Ghost and Steve had recorded and sold, and had given it to Maxy. They’d only made a hundred copies, and Ghost had crayoned the picture of the gravestone on each and every one, until his hand cramped. They’d listed the songs on the photocopied paper, and had put a small picture of themselves on it, too.

Ghost got quiet, as Maxy told his story. He remembered that day. They were so happy and excited; thought they’d made the big time. All the copies had sold…only five dollars each. They’d kept one for themselves, but had no idea where the rest had ended up. It was so weird to see one again. Maxy had carried his copy around in his guitar case all this time, and had pulled it out to show Ghost. Ghost felt like he was seeing a ghost, looking at it now. He didn’t want to be remembering that time of his life any more…that’s what he was running away from…too much had happened.

Maxy noticed Ghost, lost in thought, and hesitantly asked why they broke up – him and Steve. Ghost just shook his head, saying he couldn’t talk about it. Maxy could see that it pained Ghost terribly, so he didn’t ask again.

Soon, the two of them moved over to the small stage to talk business. The girl served her customers their coffees and muffins, and yet, kept glancing over at the guys. Looked like they were hitting it off. She smiled. She’d always cared for Maxy, even when he could be a little exasperating and flighty. He’d had boyfriends before, and occasionally a girlfriend, but none had lasted. She never heard all the details, but suspected none could put up with him for very long. His ego was too strong. She considered him to be family, she’d known him for so long. Sparks never flew between them…chemistry wasn’t right…and she had her own boyfriends. But still, she worried that he’d never find a true love, other than his music. Maybe this blond, southern boy would be the one.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 23

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 23

warning … adult content

***

After leaving the semi-truck, Ghost kept walking until he came to a more business area of the city. There were a few stores open this early…a coffee shop, a diner, a convenience store…but Ghost kept walking. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but just let his feet take him somewhere else. He felt dirty, disheveled, and hungry…and so alone. Some early risers were beginning to make their way here and there along the sidewalks. Some looked his way, but hurried on. No one said anything to him. He wondered why people were so unfriendly here. It wasn’t like home in Missing Mile, where everyone knew him and would say ‘hey’ when they saw him. He was so tired, and so lonely. At last he had to stop to rest a bit. He collapsed on some steps in a doorway to what looked like an empty storefront.

He rummaged through his backpack. Maybe he’d buy something to eat somewhere. He needed to think of what to do next, and it was impossible on an empty stomach. He looked at the meager things he’d brought with him. There were his notebooks and markers, a flannel shirt the mountain couple had given him, a good luck rock he’d found back home years ago, which he thought had a formation on it that looked like Jesus…but, Steve had said it was just some old petrified dirt that got stuck on there, and when he’d spit on it, the dirt would not come off…and the Jesus was still there, all these years later. There was a dried up rose he’d picked from the side of the road in the mountains, where they grew wild and free…but, he did not find the money he’d been given.

He looked frantically again…no money. That guy must have taken it. Sighing, he stuffed everything back, and just sat there staring into space. He couldn’t even cry anymore.

“That’s pretty bad,” he thought, “too sad to cry, too sad to cry…” he started to hum a new tune. He figured that would make a good song.

Just then, a guy came bursting out of the door Ghost was sitting in front of. He almost knocked Ghost off the steps. “Oh, sorry dude,” he exclaimed, “I’m running late.” He peered closer at Ghost. “What’cha doin’ sittin’ on my doorstep, anyway?”

Ghost shrugged and said, “Jus’ settin’.”

The guy started laughing, a rich, deep laugh, “Oh, man! Everybody said I sounded funny with my Jamaican accent when I got here, but you look and sound like you just fell off the turnip truck, dude!”

Ghost could hardly follow what the guy said, he talked kind of fast, and he did have a strange accent Ghost had never heard before.

“Well, if you’re hungry, c’mon with me, man…the soup kitchen is already open, and we need to get there before they run out of breakfast.”

Ghost nodded and followed. A couple of blocks down, they entered a building where they were serving plates of food. Ghost hung back, telling the guy he had no money.

“It’s okay, man, they give it for free to whoever needs to eat.”

They both got their plates and sat to talk a bit. As they were finishing their meal, the guy said, “If you need a place to crash later, just open the door where you were earlier. There’s just a bunch of transients that come and go there, no questions asked. I’ll see ya later, if ya stick around.”

Ghost could think better now, and he figured he’d take the guy up on the crash pad tonight. He wandered around, looking into store windows, watching people come and go on the sidewalks. Finding a bench in front of a store, he sat down to rest.

“Now what? ” he wondered. “Guess I need to get a job, huh?” he said to himself.

The thought was foreign to him. He’d never actually had a job before. All he’d ever done was sing with Steve. “How do you get a job singing out here? That’s all I know how to do. Well, this is L.A., lots of bands play here. Maybe some band needs a singer.”

He looked around. He noticed flyers tacked to some of the light poles on the street, so went over to take a look. Some were for bands playing at different places around the area. In the litter barrel next to a pole, he found a discarded newspaper. He took it. Flipping the pages that were left, he was happy to see the jobs section was still intact. As luck would have it, there were even ads for singers wanted. There were phone numbers, addresses, and times to interview, he supposed, but couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Stuffing the paper into his backpack, he planned on asking the guy he’d met, about the ads, later tonight.

~

When he entered the abandoned building later on, Ghost was surprised to see so many people there. Interesting looking people. There were a few families, their kids running around playing, a few guys and girls hanging around the edges of the large first floor of the room, talking, some were asleep on the floor..they all looked kind of like the hobos that traveled the rails back home. Homeless people, he figured.

“Well, shit,” he said to himself, “guess this is right where I belong, then. I have no job, no money, dirty looking and smelling like leftover possom on the road, nowhere to go, down on my luck”…all the familiar cliches. He could have gone on, but got too depressed thinking about it. He took a deep breath to clear his brain, then nearly choked, as he got a whiff of himself, again. “God, I need a bath,” he muttered.

The Rasta man came in the door, spied Ghost, and came over. After talking a bit, Ghost pulled out the newspaper and asked the guy if he could help him figure out where to go for the singer wanted jobs. The man looked at Ghost funny – like, can’t he read? – but, went ahead and told him where one of the places was. It wasn’t far…a coffee shop up the street. The band was interviewing the next morning at 10 a.m. Ghost nodded, but was thinking, “How am I supposed to know when 10 a.m. is?” but, was too embarrassed to ask that. They guy also mentioned that a convenience store close by didn’t mind people coming in and freshening up in the restroom, just as long as they left it tidy.

Ghost smiled and said, “Yeah, no band would hire a crap smelling singer.”

The guy laughed his rich, low laugh, and said, “Dude, I didn’t wanna say anything, but…whew!”

As people began to settle in for the night, Ghost lay and looked at the ceiling way above him. There were flickers of red and green neon on the walls, from some all night strip joints and bars close by. He didn’t sleep very well, though. The floor was hard, and it was kind of noisy with snoring, sleep talking, a kid crying…but, he must have joined them at some point, because suddenly he woke, and it was getting light outside. Most were still asleep, so he quietly gathered his backpack and slipped out the door. He made his way over to the little corner store and into the small bathroom.

One look at himself in the mirror was all it took to start washing, as best he could, with paper towels and disinfecting soap. Then, feeling better about himself, he pulled on the extra flannel shirt. He couldn’t do anything about his old jeans, though. He left, making his way to the soup kitchen again. After eating, he tried to find the coffee shop where the band was interviewing. He didn’t know if it was close to 10 a.m. or not, so he figured he’d just sit there and wait.

After walking past the place a couple of times, he finally found it and opened the door. The coffee bar smell was intoxicating, and he wished he had some. He did not see anyone interviewing, so he asked the barista.

“Oh, Maxy should be here anytime…you can wait over there,” she said, as she pointed to a small alcove. “Want some coffee?” she smiled.

Ghost looked at the floor, “Um…I don’t have any money.”

“That’s okay,” she laughed, “first one’s on the house.”

Ghost felt things were looking up finally, as he sipped the hot drink, and let the steam surround his face. He closed his eyes, relaxing into an almost Zen-like state, as he let his mind go wherever it wanted – up and down intricate paths that led to the past, the future, the whys and what ifs – winding their way into some sort of spaciness only he could conjure up.

***

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Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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 # 22

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 22

warning … adult content

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The truck driver got up his courage to actually do this, working himself into an actual need to do this. He reached for Ghost. Ghost woke to the man’s rough face pressed to his, his tender lips being forced open by the man’s hot tongue. He felt his jeans being pulled down. Ghost tried to wiggle upright and push the guy off him, but wasn’t able to move, or hardly even breathe. The guy was heavy, and his tongue was shoved down Ghost’s throat. The trucker could feel Ghost’s struggles and hear his effort to cry out, but this only served to encourage him. He came up off Ghost’s face and snarled,

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but we are going to do it.”

Ghost arched his back and tried to push the man off, but it was no use. The man pinned Ghost’s arms down, putting his slobbery mouth on Ghost’s again. The man’s other hand fumbled with both their clothes, until they were off.

Ghost had never done this with anyone but Steve – in love, and in anger – and it had been so long since the last time. In spite of the circumstances, Ghost could feel himself giving in…letting it happen, letting the need take over his body, his thoughts put on hold for the moment.

When it was over, they both were sweaty, panting for breath. The man was coming back to his senses, and now felt a little guilty and embarrassed at what he’d done. Ghost was just resigned. All he could think to himself was. “Why does everyone want to hurt me? I’m no threat to anyone. Even my best and only friend hurt me.” He lay curled up as close to the truck’s door as he could, his eyes squinched shut, and the tears ran down his face, as he sobbed silently, his shoulders shaking.

The trucker kept saying over and over, “My God, what did I do? I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He looked over at Ghost, and was struck at how young he looked lying there crying. “”Oh, God, he’s just a kid,” he thought. He had no way of knowing how old Ghost was; Ghost always looked and seemed younger than he was. “I don’t even know his name. What am I gonna do now,” he thought.

He reached over to pull an old blanket over Ghost’s bare legs, but Ghost flinched away from the touch.

“Sorry, dude, I don’t know what came over me,” he said softly. “Did I hurt you…oh, God, this wasn’t your first time, was it? Please forgive me, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I’ll give you however much money you want…”

Ghost didn’t answer for a bit, then he whispered through his tears, “Yes, you hurt me, everyone hurts me. No, it wasn’t my first time, and keep your money, I’m not a prostitute,” he sobbed.

“What can I do? I need to make this up to you,” the man asked. “You probably want to get out and the hell away from me, and you have every right to, but I hate to just leave you on the side of the road in the dark.”

Ghost said evenly, “Just keep on drivin’.”

So, the man started up the truck and pulled out onto the highway again.

As the night crept on toward dawn, the trucker kept driving. Ghost finally fell into a fitful sleep, mumbling now and then about spooks, and molasses, and Steve. Some time later, the man got a text message on his phone. It made him jump, but didn’t wake Ghost. He pulled over at the next rest stop to stretch and take a leak. Then he looked again at the message. It said, “How was your little hippie? Was he any good? Are you passing him around? Me first! Hahaha.”

The trucker started to smash the phone to the ground, but then called the other trucker, instead. “Dude, I actually did it,” he confessed. The man on the other end started making rude noises and comments.

“Stop it! You guys shouldn’t have dared me. Now, I feel awful…he’s just a kid.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the other man said. “I’m sure he’s older than he looks, and has been around the block more than once. So, how was it, anyway?”

“Shut up, dude!”

“What are you gonna do now?”

“I’m still heading to L. A. to drop my load, then pick up another, head back east. The kid’s gonna be on his own then.”

He hung up, and continued on his way. As the sun rose, they pulled into the freight yard to unload.

The man shook Ghost awake, “Hey, we’re here, end of the line. You’re on your own…or I can call a buddy of mine. He’ll be glad to take over for me, but I wouldn’t recommend it, if you know what I mean. I’m real sorry for what happened…take care of yourself. I wish you the best.” He pulled down the ladder, and went to the loading dock with his paperwork.

Ghost hadn’t said a word to him. He pulled on his jeans, got his backpack and left the truck, almost falling from the ladder. He walked away from the freight yard, looking rumpled and red-eyed from crying. He didn’t care…didn’t care about much of anything right now. He just wanted to get away from the huge, smelly trucks, and away from truckers.

***

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2020 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 license is taken in including them in this story.

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

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.