Tag Archives: Paranormal

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 16

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Two Souls: Into the Fire # 16

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

The old guys really didn’t want to accuse Steve, but the rumors were flying, and they didn’t know how Kinsey would react. They knew he practically considered Steve and Ghost his sons.

“Uh…have you heard the rumors going around today?” one guy started.

“Man, I’ve been out of town all day…just got in a bit ago. Why, what’s going around?” Kinsey was wondering why they were acting strange.

“If there’s something I need to know about, just tell me straight out,” he said.

“Well, here it is then. Ghost had your book, and he wanted us to give it back to you. He said to tell you thanks for being nice to him all these years.”

Kinsey started to say something, but saw the two guys have a look between them. “Dammit, just what is going on?” he demanded.

The guy cleared his throat and simply said in a rush of words…”We found Ghost here on the porch across the street this morning. He’d been brutally beaten. He could hardly stand up, and he was covered in blood. He said Steve did it to him. Then, he said to give you this book, and he was leaving town for good, and Steve’s car would be at the graveyard.

We tried to get him to see a doctor, but he refused. It seemed to me he was in a really bad way, Kinsey. Poor guy, he was crying, and said Steve beat him up and raped him, and that he’d done it before. We said we’d go kill Steve, we were so mad. But, Ghost said no…he wouldn’t remember anything he did, and that he loved Steve, and please don’t hurt him. He said he was going by his grandmother’s grave, then leaving, and don’t try to find him. He said he’s never coming back.”

With that, he stopped talking, afraid of what Kinsey would say. Kinsey was absolutely stunned.

“I’ll kill him myself,” he said in a barely contained voice. Kinsey was livid. He started out the door, before the group could stop him.

“Steve!” he bellowed.

Steve looked up, startled to see Kinsey coming at him, with hate in his eyes. Before he knew it, Kinsey had grabbed hold of Steve’s shirt, yanking him out of the chair.

“You motherfucking son-of-a-bitch…you don’t deserve to live,” Kinsey yelled right up in Steve’s face. He threw Steve down on the floor.

“What the hell are you talking about, Kinsey?” Steve yelled back.

“You better think long and hard about what you did, and pray to God He strikes you down right now,” Kinsey yelled, “because I’m gonna take you out…right here, right now.”

Steve had no idea why Kinsey was acting like a raging bull, but he scrambled out of the way, as Kinsey charged at him. The other guys just barely got hold of Kinsey to restrain him.

“What the hell are you talking about? ” Steve yelled, again.”

“These guys saw Ghost early this morning, and he’d been beaten and raped till he was barely alive. He said you did it to him. He said he was going away forever; said he’d leave your car at the graveyard. That’s what I’m talking about. Now, you want to explain that, or should I just kill you now…either that or prison, maybe both.” Kinsey ranted on.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God,” Steve mumbled, as Kinsey’s voice seemed to fade into the background. “I’ve got to find Ghost. I don’t remember doing anything to him.” But, he knew Ghost never lied, about anything, ever. If he said it happened, it had happened. He got up off the floor and stumbled to the door. Kinsey’s voice followed him out…

“Don’t you ever, ever come back in here, Steve. I swear I’ll kill you. Don’t try to find Ghost. He deserves better than you.”

Steve fell over his own feet in his hurry to get out of there. His heart was pounding, and his mind was reeling with what Kinsey had said.

“It can’t be true,” Steve chanted over and over, like a prayer, to make it not be true. “Please, don’t let me be too late,” he thought as he ran down the street.

~

The graveyard was close to five miles out of town. It had been hours since Ghost was here. As he came to the cold, wrought iron gate, he slowed. Ghost’s grandmother’s grave was toward the back, down a gravelly path, surrounded by vines and ancient trees, dripping with Spanish moss. This was Ghost’s favorite place in the world, he remembered. This is where he would hear the voices of the dead.

This is where Ghost would renew his energy, his very spirit. He seemed to gather strength from the lingering essences of long gone people. It was always kind of spooky, when Ghost would make him come out here with him…especially at night; and it was always shady back in there, even more so after the sun went down…like now.

But, he’d always gone with Ghost, when he asked. Ghost could easily go into a sort of trance, when he saw visions and heard voices here…like he was joining them, absorbing their journeys into himself. He was always there to help pull Ghost back from the edge. He had no doubt Ghost could just as easily leave this world for the other side, another dimension, just as easily as stay here. Sometimes he felt Ghost would rather be there with the spirits.

So, Steve was afraid to go in. He had to, of course, and quickly, but still he hesitated. Scenarios ran through his mind of what he’d find…Ghost would be ok, but mad at him…or he could be laying there in a trance…or…or…oh, God…he could be dead. Steve choked back a sob.

Or, maybe he wouldn’t be there. Maybe he would have been somehow beamed up to heaven, already. How would he know? A nervous laugh escaped his mouth. He took his first cautious steps into the shadowed graveyard.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 15

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Two Souls: Into the Fire # 15

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

Kinsey was a little taken aback by Steve’s answer. He hadn’t figured it’d be some long involved tale…but, he sat there and let Steve explain. There was nothing else to do tonight, and Steve and Ghost loved to talk, and could spin some good stories out of not much of anything. So, he propped up his feet and leaned back, ready to hear what would become a rambling tale of sadness. Steve started at the beginning, as he always did. This time it went all the way back to their school days.

“Ya know when Ghost first came here?” he started. “Well, you know all that, but what you don’t know, is that Ghost is super smart. Probably more than anyone I know. That’s one reason kids didn’t like him. And, you already know about the premonitions he gets, and all that weird psychic shit. Well, he was really good at schoolwork, except for math.”

He stopped a minute and looked at Kinsey. “Yeah, he had that ADD stuff going on, too…it really bothered him that he couldn’t get the math stuff.”

Kinsey interrupted then, “You mean algebra, fractions, stuff like that? That’s hard for lots of people.”

“Well, that’s true, but Ghost can’t even add or subtract..even now. He never could…can’t even recognize what number it is he’s looking at. It’s like he has a math blindness or something…a blank in his brain for it. He can’t even count from one to ten, Kinsey.” Steve was almost in tears at the thought of the pain it caused Ghost.

Kinsey looked at Steve like, maybe he was joking, but seeing the look on Steve’s face, made him somehow believe that it was possible.

Steve continued. “He can say the words for numbers, ya know…one, two, three, and all, but doesn’t get any sense of what they are.” At that point, to lighten up the mood a bit, he chuckled at the thought he was having, and said, “You don’t even know how it is when we try to play a game…bowling, cards, money…he can’t figure out how many spaces to move, or how many pins he knocks down, or what cards he has, or what money adds up to. I mostly let him win, ’cause he really wants to play.”

Steve was quiet, then. After a large sigh, he continued. “The school put him in the slow math classes, but nothing helped. The teachers gave up on him. Nothing will ever help him with a brain like that. That’s what’s so sad. He still thinks he’ll get it one day.

When he left school that last day,” Steve looked at Kinsey, who’d recently heard about Ghost’s last day, “he had a book in his back pack, a math book. A very simple math book, like for kindergartner kids. He never brought it back. He still has it.” Steve caught his breath with a choke. “Kinsey, he studies that book every single day…every single day that I’ve known him. He’ll have pages of practice problems, but he can’t even write the numbers. He’ll work so hard, and bring me the pages to say if he did good.

Kinsey, he never, ever gets any better. It’s mostly just scribbling. He writes words and songs like a genius, but not a number at all. I look at his papers, and say he did good. I know he knows I’m lying, but he goes on about how he’s improving. It’s heartbreaking. I think the main goal he’s ever had in his life, is to do math…and he knows he’ll never do it. What makes someone keep on trying, Kinsey, what?” Steve pleaded for an answer.

“I don’t know, Steve. I had no idea Ghost had a problem like that. Hell, I never knew that stuff you told me the other day. And, I’ve lived here all my life…and, you know how it is with bartenders…we’re supposed to hear all the gossip in a town. I’ll tell ya, this town has secrets,” Kinsey sighed. “I don’t know why Ghost keeps on trying, but it shows he’s a determined young man, Steve. Not a lot of people would keep on trying.”

“Yeah, but I wish I could make it work for him,” Steve said. “I’ve helped him out of lots of crazy things, and feel like I should be able to with this, but…” he shook his head.

“Well, you just keep on doing what you can, I guess,” said Kinsey.

Kinsey figured it was time to get busy. He had some chores to tend to. Steve sat there sipping his beer. The club door opened, then, and two of the old guys from the hardware store came in. One was holding a book.

“Hey, Kinsey, you open?”

“No,” Kinsey answered, “but, come on in, grab a beer.”

They ambled over to the bar, then noticed Steve sitting there. He wasn’t looking at them, just staring at the table, lost in his own thoughts.

The two guys nudged each other, saying in a low tone, “There he is. What a bastard. What should we do about it?”

“Well, Ghost said he wouldn’t remember a thing, and sure enough, looks that way. He’s working on another drunk, too. He has to be told what he did; he needs to be held accountable.”

“Do you think Kinsey has any idea?”

“Doesn’t look like it, or he’d have taken Steve down already.”

“Well, I have to give Kinsey this book. We’ll see what he knows.”

They walked over to where Kinsey was counting supplies in the storeroom. “Hey, Kinsey, I think this is yours.” He handed the book over, and said, “It’s kinda messed up.”

Kinsey took the book, saw that it was his, but turned it all around, looking at the cover, and tried to puzzle out what it was that was smeared on it. “What’d you do to it, guys…and why do you have it anyway?” he was confused. The last time he’d seen it, was when Ghost was looking at it, two days ago.

“Ahem,” they started in, but were hesitant. They closed the door to the storeroom, so they could talk freely.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 14

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Two Souls: Into the Fire # 14

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

***

Back at the old ramshackle house on Burnt Church Road, Steve was coming around. It was late afternoon, and the heat of the day had not dissipated. It hung in the stale air of the house. Steve woke in a pool of sweat, and stank of the night before.

“Gotta get coffee, gotta get something for this killer hangover,” he thought to himself. Surely, Ghost had made coffee this morning, and there’d be some left in the pot. He moved gingerly out of bed and across the room, so as not to increase the pounding in his head and behind his eyes.

The house was deathly silent. He wondered why Ghost wasn’t making noise; usually he was so noisy.  Making his way to the kitchen, eyes half shut, he reached for the coffeepot. It was empty.

“Dammit, Ghost, you didn’t even leave me a drop.” He started another one brewing, while he fumbled for medicine for his headache. Looking out the window, at the day half gone, he tried to remember what he’d done the night before, and why his muscles were sore. The last thing he remembered was being at Kinsey’s bar and meeting up with old friends.

“Well, guess I had a good time,” he mused, “and evidently I made it home in one piece.”

The coffee being ready, he poured himself a mug of the strong brew and took a gulp.

“Wonder where Ghost is?” he asked himself. “Probably wandering around the woods.” Steve shrugged, then headed for the shower. He glanced at the disarray in the living room. “That’s weird,” he thought. “Ghost usually straightens things up.”

The smell of stale vomit and beer hung in the air. “Guess I puked after I got home. Guess I’ll have to clean up my own shit.”

After showering, he thought he’d go out to the Yew for awhile, just to see what was happening. He searched for his car keys, but couldn’t seem to find them. Then he figured he’d left them in the car. Walking out the front door, he stopped short.

“Where the hell is my car? Damn you, Ghost,” he fumed, “if you took off with my car, you’ll regret it.” He stomped around the yard, then figured he might as well start walking. Ghost probably was in town with his car. He’d catch up with him.

He never did look in Ghost’s bedroom, and never saw the evidence of things gone terribly wrong.

~

Getting into town, he was hoping to get a beer at Kinsey’s, and find his car, and give Ghost an earful of scolding; but, the Yew wasn’t open yet, and his car was nowhere in sight.

He went on down to the Whirling Disc, his place of employment. Terry would have a beer, and maybe some pot. That would take the edge off, Steve thought. Maybe he could even tell him what happened to his car and Ghost.

The bell tinkled as he went inside. Terry was behind the register, tending to a customer. It was a slow day, evidently. The town felt abandoned. When the customer left, Terry motioned him over, with a strange look.

“Hey, Terry, what’s up? Where is everyone today?” Steve asked.

“Don’t know, Steve…it’s too hot out, I guess, and Kinsey’s opening up late. He’s out for business until later.”

“Ya got a beer for me…it was a hot walk over here…and have you seen Ghost and my car?”

Steve was surprised when Terry shook his head, no. “Nope, haven’t seen them, and won’t have beer until Kinsey gets back. He’s bringing a load from the city warehouse over in Raleigh. The supply truck broke down and couldn’t deliver today,” Terry explained.

Steve looked put out, and Terry asked if something was going on he wanted to talk about. “I heard through the grapevine that there’s a rumor going around, that something big went down out at your place last night.” He looked suspiciously at Steve.

“Not that I know of, Terry. I went into Raleigh with some guys, and got back really late, I guess. Can’t really say I remember even getting home, but I was there this morning. Ghost wasn’t home by the time I woke up, and he took off with my car.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, Steve, sounded like something serious to me.”

“Well, spit it out, Terry,” Steve prodded, getting a little testy. “What the hell did you hear?”

Terry looked at Steve hard, and said, “I heard Ghost left town because of you. That’s all. What the hell happened out there?”

“Aww, that’s crazy…gotta be something wrong with people, making up shit like that,” Steve replied, a little indignant, even though in the back of his mind, he did sense a bad vibe about the news he was hearing. And, since he couldn’t remember a thing about the night before, he hoped it was just a rumor.

Just then, they saw Kinsey pull up outside the Sacred Yew. He looked tired, as he started unloading cases of beer. Steve told Terry he’d see him later; he was going over to help out Kinsey.

“Hey, Kinsey,” Steve ambled over. “I’ll grab one of those from ya,” he joked, as he hefted a box from the truck.

“Hey, Steve, you can have one if you plan on helping me carry these in,” Kinsey replied.

“Sure, sure I will,” Steve said. They unloaded several large boxes into the cooler and storage room. Kinsey wiped his forehead and sat down, debating whether to open up the bar or not…didn’t seem worth it, being that is was getting late, and nobody was even in town. It looked like all the club kids had other plans for the night.

So, he and Steve just got to talking. “Hey, have you seen Ghost and my car?” Steve asked

“No, I’ve been out of town all day. What, did you lose both of them at the same time, Steve?”

“Yeah, looks that way,” Steve made a sour face. “Guess Ghost will bring it back when he gets through joyriding.”

They sat there, cooling off in the darkening bar. Then, Kinsey said, “Oh, Steve, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. The other night when y’all were doing your show, well, before that, Ghost went to my office to take a nap, and he got a book off the shelf. I know you know the one I’m talking about? Well, what was up with that? Seemed strange to me,” Kinsey said.

Steve remembered the book. It wasn’t strange to him. He swallowed, and looked down at the table, running his fingers through the wet spots left by the cold beer bottles.

“Aww, Kinsey, I don’t even know where to begin.”

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 13

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 13

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

~

As Ghost got to the middle of town, he saw Kinsey’s bar. It was closed up for the day. He remembered Kinsey saying he was going to be out of town for business. He would have liked to say good-bye to him, too. Then, he was overcome by such sadness, he stopped the car in front of the hardware store across the street from the Yew. The old timers would be gathering soon for their morning coffee and conversation. Reaching into his backpack, Ghost took out a book. It was Kinsey’s college math textbook he’d been studying that day that seemed so long ago. He’d leave the book with the guys here. They’d get it back to Kinsey. They’d always welcomed him to sit a spell, and tell them his stories and dreams. He didn’t want to be known as a book stealer after he left, so he hobbled up the porch steps to lay the book on the porch swing. They’d find it there.

As he bent over to place the book, he was overcome by a wave of dizziness. He sank to the floor of the porch, and managed to ease himself over by the side of the decking, by the thick vines of kudzu that climbed the trellis there. They had choked out most of the rose bushes that had been meant for the spot. Only a few still bloomed, blood red ones, like the blood that still flowed from Ghost’s torn body. He passed out to that heady smell.

It grew lighter as dawn broke. A couple of the old timers drove up to the hardware store. They figured the owner, who lived back behind the store, would have coffee brewing this early, as this was his usual habit. They noticed Steve’s T-bird parked at a weird angle in the street. They shook their heads and wondered to each other what that young’un had been up to, to leave his car there. They walked around back to get their mugs of coffee and visit awhile, then moseyed on out to the front porch of the store, to sit in the chairs in the shade of the overhang and vines. It was already getting hot out this early in the morning.

As they walked up to find a seat, they saw drops and smears of blood on the wooden planks. They looked puzzled, but not too alarmed. Those kids that hung out at Kinsey’s were known to get into a fight occasionally; it was nothing to get excited about. They sipped their drinks, and conversation was beginning, when they heard a low, moaning sound. They looked at each other, again puzzled. Then, they heard it again, along with a scuffling noise. It was coming from the side of the porch. One man got up to see what was there, thinking it might be a cat or something.

“Oh, my God, Ghost!” he exclaimed loudly. The other men jumped up and rushed over.

“Ghost, what’s wrong?” he asked. Ghost was slowly awaking and trying to sit up. Two of the men took him under his arms and helped him. It was then that they noticed that Ghost had been brutally beaten.

“Ghost, what happened?”

“We have to get him to a hospital.”

“Who did this to you?”

They all talked at once. Ghost’s head was still spinning, and he moaned again. They helped him to the front of the porch, and questioned him again. Ghost shook his head to try and clear it.

“Jus’ ‘eve ma lon,” he mumbled through his swollen, bleeding mouth. Blood trickled down his face from the deep gash in his head. Blood had soaked through his clothes, and his hair was matted with blood and debris.

“Ghost, you have to let us help you. Just sit here, and we’ll go find someone to get you to a doctor.”

“NO!” Ghost said, “I’ll be okay, I have to go now,” he slurred.

“Ghost, listen, we can’t make you get help, but what happened?” they asked, concerned.

He was coming more fully alert, now. He tried to get started speaking, but just sighed. After a long moment, he said, “Guys, thanks for helping me, but I’ll be ok. Thanks for being nice to me all these years.” He tried to smile, but it hurt too much. He closed his eyes to collect his thoughts, then pulled over the textbook that had been dropped earlier.

“Can y’all give this to Kinsey for me? I kinda borrowed it, and since I’m leaving…”

“Sure, sure, Ghost, we’ll get it to him for you,” one man said, as he took the book from Ghost’s hand. The book had blood smeared on it. The guy frowned.

“Ghost,” he said gently, as he sat in front of him. “Who did this to you, son? It’s okay to let us know.”

Ghost only shook his head and sighed.

“Ghost,” the man tried again, “we’re just very concerned. Whoever hurt you, we need to know. What they did to you is wrong. Something has to be done about it…Ghost…did Steve do this to you?” he asked slowly.

Ghost sucked in a sharp breath and sobbed. Tears began to fall into his cuts, stinging his face. “He, he…didn’t mean to. He was drunk,” Ghost whispered, as he hung his head and let the tears fall.

“That bastard,” the guy said.

“We’ll kill him, let’s go, guys,” said another.

“NO!” Ghost wailed, now. “Don’t kill Steve! He won’t even remember what happened. Promise you won’t kill him.” He tried to get up to leave, but the guy stopped him.

“Ghost, calm down, we’re not going to kill anyone, but he needs to know what he did to you, and pay dearly for it. He could go to jail for what he did.”

Ghost just sat there and cried.

“Has he done this before?”

Ghost nodded, and whispered, “Sometimes…just when he’s been drinking too much.”

“How can you have stayed with him for so long, then? You can’t justify getting beat up is okay, because he’d been drunk.”

Ghost nodded, swallowing hard, and said simply, “Because, I love him.”

The men were silent for a bit. “What are you going to do, Ghost? You just can’t go back to him…he doesn’t treat you right. Next time it could be much worse, you know.”

Ghost nodded, and told them he was leaving for awhile, that he’d be okay. “I have to go now. I’m gonna go by the graveyard to say bye to my grandmother, first. I’ll leave Steve’s car there. You can tell him it’s there. Do whatever you want about telling him what he did. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back.” He sobbed, again.

The men all wished him well, and watched Ghost hobble to the car and weave his way down the road. They were lost in their thoughts, staring at the blood on the porch steps, that Ghost had left behind.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 12

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 12

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

Steve knew he’d hurt Ghost’s feelings when he’d left, earlier that evening, and he knew Ghost would sense what had happened after. He’d just go in and say how sorry he was to have treated him like that. Inside was dim, but he could make out Ghost’s body laying on the couch. He went over to him and sat beside the childlike figure of his friend.

As he watched Ghost breathe, he thought of the hold Ghost had had on him all these years, and what he’d missed out on by sticking by Ghost. This made him a little angry…at himself, for letting Ghost get such a hold on him in the first place…and at Ghost, too…for being the way he was.

He knew he was being irrational, but the liquor had screwed his thinking up. He realized this, in some corner of his mind, but was helpless to stop this line of thought. He roughly shook Ghost awake. He’d show Ghost who ran things around here. From now on it’d be Steve, large and in charge.

“Get up, Ghost,” he said. “We need to talk.”

Ghost moaned, as Steve shook him again. Feelings were warring in Steve’s brain. He was feeling manly and macho, and yet he was feeling love for this Ghost child, only a year younger than he. Grabbing Ghost, he jammed his tongue into Ghost’s mouth. Ghost could hardly move, from Steve laying on top of him. His side hurt from where he’d been kicked, and now he could barely breathe from the weight of Steve on his chest, and his tongue down his throat.

He moaned again, and tried to push Steve off him. Steve had never had Ghost push him away before. He became enraged. He continued to slobber his beer breath into Ghost’s face. The stench of the stale beer, and cigarettes, and the smell of the woman’s flowery perfume, that still clung to Steve, was too much for Ghost to bear. He felt so sick with pain and betrayal, he turned his head as much as he could, and vomited over the edge of the couch. It didn’t all land on the floor. It was in his throat, burning and choking him…and, on Steve.

“You fucking bitch!” Steve yelled. He drew back his vomit covered hand, slamming it into Ghost’s face as hard as he could. The blow was so hard, Ghost heard a loud crack, as his teeth clacked together, breaking one of his front teeth into a sharp point. Blood spurted from his split lip, dripping down his face into the vomit.

Disgusted, Steve yanked Ghost off the couch, dragging him down the hall to the bedroom. He paid no attention to Ghost’s cries and pleadings. Entering the bedroom, Steve threw Ghost onto the bed…the same bed where they’d loved each other many times. Steve scrabbled with their clothes, ignoring Ghost’s frantic efforts to get away from him. Stripped at last, Steve prepared to show Ghost what a real man he was. He pulled Ghost’s legs up, but then, Ghost put his feet onto Steve’s chest and pushed with all the strength he had left in him.

Steve was propelled backwards into the wall, but Ghost had no time to get away. Steve came charging back, and slammed him back into position.

“Don’t you ever do that again, you whore.”

Ghost could feel Steve’s hot breath on his face, and from somewhere deep in his psyche he never knew was in him, he spit into Steve’s eyes, invoking a long dormant curse onto Steve. Steve was maddened even further, and bit into Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost arched his back in pain, then screamed in agony, feeling himself being ripped apart. The more he screamed, the harder Steve pounded into him. At one point, to shut up the screaming in his ear, Steve hit Ghost’s head with his fist over and over, until Ghost was quiet.

“There, that’ll teach you to push me away,” Steve growled. As he continued to rape Ghost, Ghost had the feeling his soul was leaving his body, there on the bed, being abused. He felt himself floating above, looking down at the violence happening to him. He realized this was not love, this was Steve trying to gain control. Ghost cried for his very existence, for why his soul journey had to take this path. He cried for Steve’s soul, too, and prayed for his forgiveness in the next life.

Then, it was over. Steve was finished with him. He pushed Ghost aside, like a piece of trash, and stumbled out of the room. Ghost knew he’d not remember what he’d done.

Ghost felt himself re-enter his bruised and broken body. The pain was incredible…the pain in his heart was unbearable. Steve had held his life in his hands, and crushed his soul almost to oblivion. Ghost knew he would not stay here. He had to leave and never look back. But, he was in such pain, he couldn’t think straight. The room seemed to whirl around from his dizziness, and he hovered on the edge of consciousness. He could feel himself blacking out. He lay there until he came to, again.

~

Sometime later, Ghost aroused, and gathered his clothes and backpack, and slipped as silently as he could out the front door…past the warding off star sign he’d painted on the porch so long ago, to keep out evil. He now realized the evil spirits he was trying to keep out, were right in the house with him all this time…laying with him, and deceiving him for all these years. He hung his head and sobbed.

Ghost knew Steve was passed out, and wouldn’t come to, for hours, so he’d taken the car keys that had been thrown on the floor. Easing himself into the car, he slowly drove down the deserted road. He would only take the car as far as the graveyard on the other side of town. If he was leaving, he wanted to say good-bye to his grandmother at her gravestone, before he left for good.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 11

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 11

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

~

The rising sun roused them from sleep. It was going to be another scorcher of a day. They decided to pack up and go home. They already had a touch of sunburn, and couldn’t bear to endure another day of the heat.

“Should we go to the house, or go by the Yew?” Steve wondered aloud, as he drove down the highway.

“You can let me off at home,” Ghost replied. “You should go see Kinsey because he has our pay from the other night.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That’s what I’ll do then,” Steve said, as he drove into their front yard. “Need anything from town?”

“Naw, I’m just gonna chill awhile,” said Ghost.

“See ya later then,” Steve said, as he drove off.

Ghost opened the old screen door, and stood still for a minute, feeling the house. He could usually sense if anything had been disturbed, or if anyone had been there while he and Steve were out. Things seemed okay, so he continued in. He flopped on the old couch and turned on the TV, but couldn’t concentrate. Something was nagging at his brain…something he couldn’t put words to yet. He tried to push his senses further, but all he got was an unsettled feeling. He wished Steve would come home now.

But, Steve was at the Yew, recounting the fishing trip to Kinsey and Terry, who’d come back by when he saw Steve pull up.

“Well, lookie who survived the camping trip,” teased Terry. “How’d it go, man?”

Steve found he had a willing audience to tell his tale to, so began at the beginning and left nothing out…except the ending, of course. He had the two older men laughing at Ghost’s antics at the lake, but they had no idea if it really happened that way. They’d have to wait to hear Ghost’s version. They had no inkling that they’d never get to hear it.

Steve stayed at the bar, drinking beer after beer. The club opened, and customers were having fun. Some of Steve’s old pals from high school (before he’d dropped out) came in and got to bragging about all the fun they could have over in Raleigh. They invited Steve along. Steve was in a partying mood, so he agreed to meet them in a while.

Kinsey was a little concerned, as Steve was certainly feeling the beer he’d drunk. He looked askance at Steve, who just blew him off with a slightly belligerent tone.

“I’m gonna have some fun tonight. Don’t be bringing me down, Kinsey.”

Kinsey backed off, but had a bad feeling about what Steve was about to do. “But, hey,” he thought, “he’s a grown assed man, he can do what he wants. I’m not his keeper, after all.”

Steve left in a fume of alcohol, and squealing tires, out of the parking lot toward home. He would tell Ghost not to wait up for him. But, when he arrived, he found that Ghost was all clingy, and was begging him not to go…to stay there with him.

“Dammit, Ghost, I need a night off from you once in awhile.”

Ghost looked hurt, and Steve knew he’d sounded mean, but the liquor went further than his mouth. It made his brain say things he normally would never say. Steve went to splash water on his face to try and sober up a bit. When he came out, Ghost wasn’t in the house.

“Great, now the little son-of-a-bitch is mad again.” He went out the front door to the T-bird. What he saw enraged him. Ghost was fiddling around under the hood of the car.

“What the hell, Ghost?” he yelled. “Get your ass away from there.”

Ghost had been trying to disable the car, but didn’t really know how, or what to do to make that happen, and didn’t have time anyway. Steve rushed over, grabbed Ghost by the back of his shirt, and spun him forcefully around.

“Steve, wait,” Ghost pleaded. “Don’t go, please don’t go!”

“Shut up!” Steve yelled, right up in Ghost’s face. “Get outta my way, I’m going.” He slammed shut the car’s hood, barely missing Ghost’s fingers on the edge of the car, then violently threw Ghost to the ground.

The blow had knocked the breath out of Ghost. He lay there stunned. Without another word, as he went for the car door, Steve tripped over Ghost as he lay there, kicking him in the ribs. He slammed the car door shut and threw gravel as he sped off, never knowing, or even caring, that he’d almost run over his best friend.

Ghost’s breath returned slowly, as he gasped, still lying there on the ground. The sobbing he heard, as if from far away, didn’t register at first as his own. His ears were pounding, as was his head, and gravel, hot from the day’s heat, burned his back. He felt searing pain on his face and arms, where the gravel had hit him, as they had flown from under the car’s tires. His side hurt him to move, but eventually he crawled up to the porch. His mind was reeling. What should he do, what could he do? He feared for when Steve returned. He’d never, ever been really afraid of Steve before. Steve swore he’d never hurt him, but he had, more than once, and Ghost knew it wasn’t over. The bad feeling he’d sensed had only gotten stronger.

Ghost slowly made his way up the porch steps and into the house, where he eased himself onto the couch. He was hurting mentally and physically. Visions of him and Steve kept running through his mind…the good times, and the bad…and, there were bad times between them, but never as bad as this. Steve had hit him before, when under the influence of alcohol. He never remembered what he’d done the next day, though. Ghost never mentioned it either, and when Steve would ask about how he’d gotten a black eye or bruises on his body, Ghost would make up some excuse. He didn’t know why he did that.

As he lay there enveloped in his visions of things gone by, he kept hearing a song…what was it? Little by little he started humming to himself, and the words came, causing him such anguish. It was *Phil Collins “In the Air Tonight”. “Oh, God,” he thought, “that could be written for me and Steve.” He’d known, or sensed all his life that everything good that happened to him would be taken away…eventually. And now, the meaning of it all came down to this night. He sobbed into the old couch…the one that held all his tears since he was little.

~

Then, in the darkest part of the night, shortly before dawn, Steve came back. He was still reeling from his night out with the guys, feeling like he was not so much of an outsider with them now. He felt he’d needed some male bonding, and boy had they. Drinking, telling macho stories, dancing at a club with loose women…and that, as he now arrived home, made him feel just as guilty, as much as it had earlier made him feel accepted into this wild crowd. The woman he’d been with had made him feel amazing. It had been a long time since Ann. But, now he had to get back to reality. He had to deal with Ghost.

~

*”In the Air Tonight” by Phil Collins, appears on the album “Face Value” – 1981. It was written by Phil Collins, and is on the Virgin – Atlantic label.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 9

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 9

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

***

Morning came as it always did in Missing Mile, hot and humid, even this early. Kinsey had closed up the Yew the night before after everyone had left. Ghost and Steve had packed up and left, to sleep and to head out on their fishing adventure this morning. Kinsey chuckled at the thought of those two. He brewed a strong pot of coffee and sat thinking of what he had to do this day.

The bar wasn’t open in the mornings, but Terry knew Kinsey would be up, and he really needed a mug of the coffee he knew would be just about ready. As he quietly opened the door, he felt the refreshing coolness inside, and smelled the rich, dark coffee. Kinsey was seated at one of the tables, feet propped up on a chair.

“Hey, get yourself a cup,” Kinsey nodded toward the kitchen. They sat in companionable silence for a bit, letting the steaming mugs of liquid do it’s work in waking them up.

“Quite a show last night, huh?” mused Terry.

“Yeah, we did good on the count, and you guys were amazing! I can always depend on Lost Souls? to pack the house. I’m glad they’re back in town,” Kinsey replied.

“So, what’s everyone doing today?” asked Terry.

“Well, I’m cleaning up, and then we’ll be open for regular hours tonight. No bands are booked, so it’ll just be the kids wanting food, beer, and games. The jukebox will have to do tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably drop in later. I have to go open the store in a little bit. I gave Steve the next couple days off,” said Terry. “Oh, what’s that I heard about them going fishing? Was that today?”

“Yep, them two had it all planned out. Gonna leave first thing this morning and head over to the lake,” Kinsey chuckled again. “I can’t even begin to imagine how that’ll go.”

“Hmm,” Terry mused. “Why don’t we sneak out there and see for ourselves? I’ll bet we’d get a few laughs out of it.”

“Yeah, that’d be something to see, but I got too much to do around here. I suspect we’ll hear all about it when they get back. Might be interesting to hear what they say. You know, we’ll be hearing two different versions of the thing. It’ll be funny to compare the two stories…and I do mean ‘stories’, ya know…neither one will be what actually went on.”

“You got that right, Kinsey,” laughed Terry, as he got up to leave. “See ya later.”

Kinsey went to get the supplies to begin his chores.

~

Meanwhile, at the house out on Burnt Church Road, Steve prodded Ghost to get up.

“Get your ass outta bed, Ghost, we’ve got fish to catch!”

“Wha…what time is it?” mumbled Ghost.

“Time to go, man…I’ve already got the T-Bird packed. Get your butt in gear and let’s get outta here,” Steve replied in a sing-song voice.

“You made a rhyme, Steve, that’s funny,” said Ghost, as he burrowed deeper into his blankets. Steve yanked off the covers, grabbed Ghost by the ankles and dragged him to the floor.

“Get up, NOW!” he said, as he left the room.

Ghost rubbed his eyes as he slowly made his way to the kitchen in search of coffee. He poured a cup from the pot Steve had made earlier. Going into the living room, he sat cross legged on the couch. He could hear Steve pacing around on the porch.

“Guess I better get dressed,” he thought, “before Steve comes back in here.”

Too late, Steve slammed open the screen door and stood looking at Ghost. He pretended to be mad, but really, he was thinking how cute Ghost looked, all sleepy soft, and messy hair, his eyes looking at him over his hot coffee cup. Steve shoook his head and just said, “Hurry up,” and he smiled

Ghost bit his lower lip and whispered, “Okay.”

~

Finally, they were on their way to the lake. It was only outside of town a short way. Steve was in a good mood. He babbled on about what fun they were going to have. Ghost just looked doubtful. After finding what Steve deemed a good spot to find fish, they lugged the fishing poles, a dilapidated old Army tent, a cooler of beer, and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Steve had put together, over to the lake’s edge.

“What now, Steve?” Ghost asked. “I never done this before, ya know.”

“Hmm,” said Steve. “Let me get the fishing stuff ready, and you can put up the tent.”

He started off with the poles and bait bucket, while Ghost just stood there staring at the tent. He had no idea what to do to put it together. It was one of those old fashioned canvas one, from an Army supply store. They’d had it for years. It was unwieldy, with wooden poles, ropes, and pegs. It was also dusty and had cobwebs on it. It smelled funky from being stored for so long.

“Ewww, this is gross,” Ghost wrinkled his nose in disgust, but he started to unroll it anyway. As he did, a big spider scuttled out of the rolls of canvas.

“Aiiii,” Ghost hollered and started hopping around, sure the giant monster spider had somehow jumped on him. He was flapping his arms, and stomping his feet, and shaking his hair all around. Steve looked over in alarm, thinking Ghost was having some kind of psychic fit or something.

“Ghost! What’s wrong?” he hollered.

“I think it touched me! I think it bit me…I think I’m gonna die out here! And you don’t even care!” Ghost wailed.

Steve ran over, trying to find out what Ghost was actually screaming about. “Slow down, dude, what bit you?”

“It was a giant, ugly spider…do you see it on me, Steve, do you? Look on my back, look in my hair…Oh, Steve, get it off me!”

Steve looked, and brushed Ghost off, but never saw any spider. “It’s okay now,” he said, to a much relieved Ghost. “It’s gone.”

He started laughing. He laughed until he thought his sides would burst. “Dude, you screamed like a little girl. I never saw anybody flap around like that in my life!” Steve was rolling on the ground, holding his stomach. “Oh, my God, I wish I had a camera, Ghost. You should’a seen yourself.” He went on and on.

Ghost did not think it was funny at all. “Fuck you, Steve. Just fuck you!”

Steve looked up at Ghost, and still laughing, said, “Is that all you got to say? Huh? Let’s hear what the funny guy has to say.”

Ghost gave him a look of daggers, but didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he let Steve have it. He rarely lost his cool, but Steve deserved his wrath.

“You asshole, Steve,” Ghost said in a deadly calm voice, his blue eyes stormy. “You dragged me out here in the middle of nowhere, and you know I hate stuff like this. You probably hoped I’d get freaked out about something, so you could be all ‘I have to save Ghost from his crazy ideas’ and be a big shot. Well, congratulations, Steve, you got your wish. So, I’m walking home now. You can stay here and fish your brains out.” He turned and stomped away.

“Ghost…” Steve started.

Ghost turned back and hollered,”And furthermore…I DON’T KILL FISH!”

Steve just blinked at the sight of his best friend’s back, as he left. He’d never seen Ghost so mad. “Damn,” he said to himself. “Well, he’ll be back soon enough.”

He set about his task of baiting the fish-hooks, dropping them in the water, and waiting. He was waiting for a bite, and waiting for Ghost to return.

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 8

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 8

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

The club was soon filled with hungry and excited kids. Food orders were kept coming and the drinks and sandwiches were disappearing fast. Kids milled around, listening to the jukebox, playing pool and video games, and reading the wall. Some looked confused at the strange new writing Ghost had put on there earlier that morning. It was scribbled and unfinished, just as they’d left it.

“Wow, that seems like so long ago,” Kinsey thought. It had been a long day.

Steve and Ghost slowly made their way to the stage, greeting the kids along the way. This is what the kids had been waiting for. Lost Souls? were back in town, and they were ready for the music to start.

Steve got his guitar, and Ghost got his microphone. Terry and R.J. were sitting in tonight, too, on drums and bass. They did so occasionally, and this was one night they didn’t want to miss out on. Steve strummed the strings and nodded to the guys in back. As he played the first notes of the first song, he nodded at Ghost and smiled. Ghost grinned and began singing.

Tonight’s set was going to be mostly covers of southern rock songs, with a couple of their own originals thrown in the mix. They always included  their “World”* song and “We Are Not Afraid”. The crowd stood transfixed as the golden, gravelly voice of Ghost began the first song…a cover of the Eagles, “One Of These Nights”.* When Ghost sang, he was the song, and he brought everyone along with him. From the first to last note, from the first to last song, Ghost was who he was meant to be.

Kinsey watched the magic happen. With a new-found knowledge of how Steve and Ghost meshed together, he could see that every song was chosen very carefully, whether anyone knew or not, to be a meaningful, loving tribute to each other. That gave the show, the songs, the looks Steve and Ghost gave each other on stage, and even the smiles, the movements, and the banter to the crowd a whole, new fuller, more special dimension.

Kinsey felt his eyes begin to sting at the love he felt between those two. “Damn, I’m a silly old fool, getting all choked up at a couple of employees,” he thought, “but they are more than that,” he knew. They were more like family, in a way. He continued to watch as the show progressed through a foot stomping cover of Pure Prairie League’s, “Amie.”*

Everyone was having a great time. As the songs neared the finale, they sang “Serenade”,* by the Steve Miller Band, which was always an eerie kind of song, but fit so well with Steve and Ghost and the club kids they played for. Without a pause, it segued into the anthem they always ended the show with, “Hole in the World”*, by the Eagles. Those were the very first words of the very first song Ghost had written on the wall.

Steve and Ghost stood back to back, as if they would always be together and have each other’s back, no matter what…and if you’re not alone, if you have that special someone, you will not be afraid of anything. Blond shining hair and ebony curls mingled together as they sang and played their last song of the night. The crowd drew closer, mesmerized by the words and the rhythmic beats all around them.

By the time the last vibrations of the guitar had echoed off the walls, Steve and Ghost both were in tears. Tears of sadness, tears of love, tears of hope…that their lives would mean something…that there was a reason they were here at this time and this place.

The crowd was holding on to each other as they swayed together, shedding their own tears for humanity and the future. Kinsey was moved to tears of his own this night, for reasons he knew, and something else he felt in the air, in the electricity, in the essence of everyone here, but especially for Ghost and Steve. Something very unsettling to him…but, he knew not what it was.

***

*”One of These Nights” by the Eagles (Don Henley/Glenn Frey; Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.)

*”Amie” by Pure Prarie League (Craig Lee Fuller; Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.)

*”Serenade” by The Steve Miller Band (Sailor Records/Capitol Records, Inc.)

*”Hole in the World” by the Eagles (Don Henley/Glenn Frey; Universal Music Publishing Group)

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 # 7

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 7

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

Back at the Sacred Yew, they unloaded the supplies. Kinsey looked at his watch, “Well, it must have gone better than you expected, huh? Only took three and a half hours.”

Steve muttered, “You just should’a been there.”

Ghost stumbled in, then, carrying the fishing poles and wearing the hat. “Look what Steve’n me got!”

Kinsey looked surprised.

“It’s fishing stuff, Kinsey. We’re gonna go tomorrow and ketch us some, and Steve’ll kill ’em and I’ll cook ’em and…and then we’ll eat ’em, and maybe we’ll bring back some for you.” Ghost babbled on and on.

“Was this really your idea, Steve?” Kinsey asked.

“Yeah, thought it’d be something fun to do.”

“Well, I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Steve, but y’all have fun. I’ve got to get back to work. Y’all be back here by eight, ok? Get set up and start the show by nine.” 

“Yeah, I’m gonna go catch a nap I guess. Eight sounds good. See ya then,” said Steve. “C’mon, Ghost, let’s go.”

“Can I just stay here, Steve? I think I’ll help Kinsey with his chores. I already took a nap on the way back,” Ghost said.

“Suit yourself…see ya later,” answered Steve, as he shuffled out the big wooden door.

Kinsey came back out of the store room and looked at Ghost, who just smiled and said he was going to help out awhile. “What ‘cha need me to do, Kinsey?”

“Well, let’s see…the floor needs mopping, the tables wiped down, the bar stocked, oh, and I still need to get the soup and sandwiches made. Why don’t you get the mop and get started?”

Ghost made a sour face, then brightened up. “I can do the food, okay?”

“You can do the food?” Kinsey looked doubtful.

“Sure, I do the cooking at home all the time. Steve loves what I cook.”

“Well…,” Kinsey hesitated, “it’s just simple soup and sandwiches. I guess you can handle that, so Ghost, it’s all yours tonight.”

 “Yay! Show me where the stuff is and I’ll start,” bubbled Ghost.

Kinsey showed him the kitchen area and supplies, ramen noodles, lunchmeat, and bread.

“I need enough for about a hundred customers, I guess.”

“Okay, Kinsey, but not ramen…I hate that stuff. I’ll make my speciality and surprise you, and it won’t take long either.”

“Fine, fine, let’s just get started.”

Kinsey began mopping the floors. Ghost worked as fast as he could, making a towering mound of sandwiches. He was just finishing up the huge pot of soup, when Kinsey wandered in.

“Hey, something smells great, Ghost! What kind is it?”

Ghost had Kinsey close his eyes and have a taste.

“Is that…potato soup?” Kinsey asked, reaching for another spoonful.

“Sure is.”

“It’s delicious, Ghost.”

Ghost beamed at the compliment. “Well, it’s all finished and there’s still a while left before the show, so can I just kinda rest a bit in your office, Kinsey, on that nice soft couch ya got in there?”

Kinsey smiled and nodded. Ghost took off while Kinsey finished up his chores and then took a much needed coffee break, himself. He then went to get his register tape and a few other items from the office. When he opened the door, he found that Ghost had indeed fallen asleep on the old couch. He looked at the eccentric young man, smiled, and shook his head. Who would have thought Ghost was such a good cook. He’d heard Steve going on about the banana pancakes and such before, but when had Ghost learned cooking anyway? Old Miz Deliverance must have been teaching him something after all.

He then noticed that Ghost had a book opened on his chest, while he’d fallen asleep.  “What on Earth?” he asked himself. “It’s my old college math textbook.”  He had all sorts of books in his office, as he was a bit of a hoarder and liked to read a lot. He never threw away a book. But, why would Ghost choose a math text to read? There were so many more interesting choices. He shrugged and went on about his business. “Maybe I’ll ask him about it later,” he thought.

Steve showed up pretty much on time, and Kinsey pointed to the office, telling him that Ghost had finally wound down…he should go wake him up. Steve entered the office and saw Ghost still asleep. His heart did a little flip flop as he looked at his best friend, all relaxed in sleep. Then he, too noticed the book Ghost had chosen.

He shook his head and his bottom lip quivered at the sight…the anguish it caused.

“Oh, Ghost,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry it pains you so much.”

Steve walked over to Ghost and knelt down beside the couch, watching him sleep for just a moment. He loved to watch Ghost sleep. Ghost always had the most vivid dreams, and always told him about them. Steve brushed a strand of hair off Ghost’s forehead.

“Hey…wake up, Ghost,” he whispered. Then he shook Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost’s pale blue eyes fluttered open, looking at Steve in that half awake state, then he smiled.

“Hey, Steve.”

“You ready to sing?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I’m always ready to sing,” Ghost yawned and sat up, putting his arms around Steve in a warm embrace.

They had not noticed Kinsey watching them from the doorway. “Ahem,” Kinsey cleared his throat. “It’s about time, guys. I’m opening the door. The crowd’s already getting impatient.”

***

Next part coming soon!

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

©2018 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 # 6

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 6

Warning…adult content

***

warning…adult content

“Why not, Steve? Are you scared to get a tattoo?” Ghost teased.

“No, I’m not, but I know you are,” Steve said as a matter of fact. “Besides, I already got one a long time ago.”

Ghost stopped there on the sidewalk and looked hard at Steve. “Where?” he asked. “I’ve seen all of you and never saw one.”

“It’s hidden,” Steve said, “end of subject.”

“Let me see it or I won’t believe it…right here, right now.”

“Fine, you want to see it? Here ya go.” Steve pulled back his hair and pointed to the area behind his left ear.

Ghost looked amazed that he’d never noticed it before. “Did it hurt much?” he asked.

“Yeah, it hurt, what do ya think it felt like, a tickle?”

“Well,” Ghost said, “let me look closer.” He did, then said in wonder, “It’s your own name! It says Steve!”

“So what?” Steve answered back.

At this, Ghost burst out laughing. He was overcome with the thought of Steve’s  unique tattoo. He doubled over and could hardly stand up, he was laughing so hard. He tried talking through his giggles, snorts, and tears of laughter running down his face.

“What…why…why do you…need to remember your own…name? do you…have to look…look…in the mirror to remember…who…who…you are every day?” He continued, “Then…Oh, my God…it would be backwards! It’d be evets.” He laughed even harder.

Steve just glared at him, not seeing anything funny about it. “So what if it’s my name. I got it when I was stupid and drunk one night. The guy asked me what I wanted, and I thought he asked me what my name was…so that’s what I said. And that’s what he put on there…and that’s all there was to it.”

Ghost just couldn’t let it go. “At least it wasn’t on your arm or something!” he howled.

Steve had had enough by then. “Ghost, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m gonna smack you. I mean it! SHUT-UP!”

He started walking again. Behind him, Ghost kept trying to stop, wiping his face on his jacket sleeve, but still a fresh burst of laughter would rise up and be heard.

Steve whirled around, punched Ghost in the shoulder. “I told you to shut up!”

Ghost kept trying to stifle his giggles and finally had a little more control. He took a deep breath and said, “Now I’m really hungry, Steeeve!”

“Forget it, we’re going home now. At least I am. You can just stay here and laugh for all I care.” Steve stomped off to the T-Bird.

“No, no, no, we haven’t got our prize yet!” Ghost trailed after him.

They sat in the car now while Steve tried to calm down. “Hey, Ghost, I was thinking of something to buy. You know that show we were watching the other day…some guys were out there on a lake, fishing?”

“Yeah,” answered Ghost.

“Well,” Steve continued, “we could get us some fishing poles and catch some fish.”

Ghost just looked at him like, what a crazy idea. “Have you ever fished before?” he asked.

“Yeah, a long time ago. I caught some, too. Then the guys I was with, we cooked them over the campfire and ate them. Mmmm.”

Ghost looked worried.

“What? You have something against fishing? You eat fish, don’t you?” Steve asked.

“Well, yeah, but, I don’t kill them!” Ghost said.

“Well, how do you think you got to eat them then. Somebody had to kill them,” Steve reasoned.

“Yeah, but, it wasn’t me.”

“Don’t worry about it, then. You just eat what we catch, I’ll do the rest. Let’s check out the thrift shop down the road. Bet they’ll have some fishing stuff.” Steve started the car and they went to find fishing gear.

Ghost was still a bit hesitant about the whole idea, so he let Steve find equipment, while he just looked around.

“Hey, Steve, this stuff is what you wanted to buy. What’s mine?”

Steve shrugged and plopped an old fisherman’s hat onto Ghost’s head, saying, “Here ya go, this is what you want, right? See, it has fish hooks on it and everything!”

“Yeah, sure, Steve,” Ghost said as they paid and left the store. Steve went on and on about how the fishing trip would go. Ghost was hardly listening. He laid his head on the door frame, blond hair hanging out the open window, feet in Steve’s lap. He closed his eyes and drowsed to Steve’s words.

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Next part coming soon!

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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 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 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.