Tag Archives: Same-sex Pairings

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 48

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Two Souls: Into the Fire # 48

***

As the sparkling stars slowly faded to the new dawn, Steve awakened alone. He thought he’d had a very vivid dream, but as he shifted on the couch, the suede journal fell to the floor. Seeing it, Steve remembered it was not a dream.

“Ghost?” he called out into the quiet of the house. He smelled coffee ready in the kitchen, so made his way in to get a steaming mug. Ghost must have gotten up earlier, but where was he? He went to look in both bedrooms, but Ghost wasn’t there. The back room door was still closed like they’d left it, and the bathroom was empty, save for the broken glass. Coming back into the living room, Steve noticed the front door open, so he went over, pushing the squeaky screen door.

Ghost was wrapped in a soft blanket from his bed, sitting on the old porch swing, with his own mug of coffee. The swing was slowly rocking back and forth, while Ghost just watched the sun rise behind the pine trees, turning the sky a soft pink. Steve’s heart melted at such a serene image. He hated to break the spell, but he knew Ghost already knew he was there watching him, and what was in his heart. He went over and sat beside Ghost. Neither said anything for a few minutes.

“You okay?” Steve asked, in a hushed voice.

Ghost shrugged his shoulder, and nodded. “I guess so.”

Steve nodded, “If you want to talk about it…”

“Not now, Steve. I just need to think it in my head awhile first,” Ghost explained.

But then, a few minutes later, he seemed to be talking out loud to himself. Steve knew this wasn’t the time to make a comment, or interrupt Ghost’s train of thought. He needed to work it out in his own way. So, he just listened. Ghost’s way of thinking about things was always fascinating to Steve. Even mundane things would take on an air of intrigue and mystery, when subjected to Ghost’s weird, magical way of thinking. This was no different, but way more important.

“I wish she’d have told me from the start…too hard…I know about hard…everything is too hard…I hate that word…hard…it’s a stupid word. Wish it didn’t be about me, and everything’s so hard.

I wasn’t supposed to be here…guess that’s when the hard started…why I do things weird, and it’s hard to do things normal. I never was normal…ever…and it’s hard to know stuff like that.” He looked off into the distance, and sighed.

“Why didn’t they want me? I would have loved them, but now they’ll never know…and I’ll never know. Should’a just let me go back to wherever I came from and start over. Livin’ is too hard this time…being dead is easier…but, I don’t want to be dead yet. Steve’ll help me not be dead yet, he loves me…and I have Steve to love. That is enough, isn’t it?”

Ghost looked at Steve, then, and asked, “Isn’t it enough, Steve?”

Steve was astounded by what he’d heard, and he pulled Ghost close, in a fierce hug, and said, “Yes, Ghost…our love for each other is enough!”

~

Steve watched, as Ghost took their mugs inside to get more coffee. He was thinking his own thoughts. Ghost probably did suffer a brain injury at birth, that caused him to not know about numbers, and why everything came hard for him, in so many ways. His psychic gift was inherited, so that was a good thing to have, his amazing way with words and songs, and that voice like no other, well…that was just God given talent. You get some bad stuff, and you get some good stuff…guess that’s how it goes.

He was kind of surprised at Ghost’s reaction, or rather, non-reaction to reading the journal. He was kind of too calm, after the big build up of trying to find it. He didn’t want to think too hard on it just yet. He might jinx it, and maybe he should be ready for Ghost to one day completely lose it, when everything sinks in. He dreaded that happening.

Ghost came back out then, and said to Steve, “I don’t plan on freaking out on you. It wouldn’t change anything. I know about everything now…all that happened a long time ago. I am who I am, and for whatever reason, I turned out this way, and it’s okay. I pretty much like who I am, and plan on staying here to drive you crazy as long as I can.” He grinned his lopsided grin, his broken tooth showing. “Here’s your coffee. What’re we doing today, anyway?”

“Oh, shit, Ghost…I forgot to go to work! Terry will fire me for sure!”

“Guess it’s too late now, huh? Guess you have to stay home with me all day, and I’ll get to bug you.” Ghost smiled, and then, “You have to clean up the broken mirror, too, ’cause I’m still scared there’s a spider. Now I know why I hate them. They put creepy cobwebs all over me!”

“Yeah, I’d hate them too, if that happened to me,” said Steve.

They didn’t have a phone, so Steve couldn’t call in sick, and he wasn’t going to walk in to town to tell Terry he wasn’t coming to work, so they just continued talking. Steve did wonder about the bank vault with Ghost’s money in it. He wondered how much there really was. Money didn’t ever seem to matter much to Miz Deliverance, and it meant absolutely nothing to Ghost. Where would she have gotten lots of money from, anyway? She sold a few potions sometimes, but he never saw any evidence of income. Maybe she’d inherited it. He didn’t know, but she’d asked him to manage it for Ghost, so he needed to find out. Maybe he would soon.

***

***

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 # 47

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 47

warning … adult content

***

They sat there on the old, familiar couch, looking at the journal Ghost’s grandmother wanted them to read. Steve sighed, thinking of what Ghost had said about words, and how powerful they could be.

He knew all too well what words could do to a person. He’d used words to hurt people, and to make people laugh, and cry, and get mad. And, people had used words against him…and most definitely against Ghost. And those words hurt…hurt bad. Ghost used words to evoke emotions in his song lyrics. They touched the soul of everyone who heard them. Every song had underlying meanings…some only that they shared together, others meant for more.

“I know what words can do, Ghost,” Steve said. “This here is a book of words that your grandmother wanted you to have, and to read. There’s some reason she wanted to write it down, instead of saying it to you in person. Maybe to make it more real…instead of spoken into the air to be lost and forgotten.

This you can hold in your hands and get a feeling from it. You know you can, and will, and she knew that, too. I don’t think she wanted you to be afraid of what she wrote. It’s just a way of her explaining something important.”

Steve stopped and looked at Ghost, who was leaning against him. He could feel Ghost’s warm breath on his arm, as he held the book. Ghost put out his hand and touched the suede…he closed his eyes and ‘felt’ the subtle vibrations, as only he could. Emotions crossed his face. Steve knew he was ‘reading’ the words that were not written on paper. It was like he was listening to someone unseen. He’d frown, then nod, then murmur unintelligible words, and smile…and a tear would fall.

Then, Ghost opened his eyes and nodded to Steve. He was ready to open the journal. Steve kissed the top of Ghost’s head, and said, “It’s okay, Ghost…we’ll do it together.”

So, they opened the cover, and the first page just said…”To My Ghost Child”.

They turned the cream colored paper.

“Ghost if you are reading this, then I have left this world and begun my journey in the next. Don’t be sad for me. I’m ready to see what happens . I am still with you in spirit, and will look in on you from time to time. You can call on me any time.

And, Steve…this is for you, too. I know you are reading this with Ghost. You are his strength and protector…and, it has always been.”

Steve’s eyes widened…he didn’t expect he’d be mentioned. Ghost was nodding his head, “Yes”.

“Some of this is hard for me to write,” his grandmother’s words continued, “but, I need you to understand, this is part of your story of life, and you should know of it. By now, I would hope that my old friend from back home in the mountains, has given you the two photographs. You must have sensed who was pictured there…and, you are right. The tiny baby is you, Ghost. The only photo I have of you then. The other photo is of your mother, my daughter, Aurora. She was only fifteen when this picture was taken…and she did not live to see sixteen.

What I’m about to tell you is hard for me. She was a sweet girl, but headstrong, and wanted her independence. She fell in love with your father, and you were conceived. His name was Zen, and he was fifteen, also. He came from a village about thirty miles away. I met him once…the day he took your mother away. I do not have a picture, but he looked a lot like you, too.

They were both so young…too young, to be in the situation they were in. They were not ready to have a baby, and they would not listen to anyone’s advice. So one day, he met her up at our place…out in the barn…and…and…this is so hard to remember, Ghost…they terminated her pregnancy. She was only about six months along. They aborted you, Ghost. You were so premature, I don’t know how you even lived.

So, afterward, with her, weak and scared, they left on his motorcycle. That’s when I first saw him. She only said she got rid of it, and she was leaving with him. That was the last I ever saw my daughter. Later that night, word came that there was a terrible accident on the twisty mountain road, and they were both killed. I was in anguish over everything. I went outside, just watching the sky, knowing there had to be two more bright stars up there.

I walked by the barn, and that’s when I heard a soft cry. It was you, Ghost. You had not died. You were never supposed to be here, but you were! I got the lantern, and searched, finally finding you, a tiny little thing, lying in the hay. It had been awhile before I found you, and in that time, a spider had woven a web over you. I brushed it off, and the spider ran across your face. I screamed at it to go away. Then, I took you into the house. If I hadn’t found you when I did, I don’t think you’d be alive today.

I did what I could for you. You were so pale and fragile, almost translucent. All I could think of was the word, Ghost…because of how you looked, and how really, you may have been a ghost, if you hadn’t been found in time. So that’s what I named you. And, I loved you from the moment I saw you, and tried to do my best for you.

My friend told me I shouldn’t take you away from the mountains, but I wanted to try and let you see another side of things. I hope you understand. I know you have had a hard time, even from the start…but, Ghost, everything happens as it has been written. Your life’s path happens because it is meant to be. And, Steve, you are a part of Ghost’s life plan…in this life, in the past lives, and in future lives. Know this is true.

Make the most of what each day brings. I know there will be struggles, and there will be times of indescribable joy. So, do not look back in regret for anything. There are many lessons to be learned, as you walk the path together.

And, Ghost, one more thing. I know you are still living in the old house. I left it to you to do with as you want. I know I led an unconventional lifestyle, and that is all you were exposed to, but do not be afraid to explore the world and all it has to offer. For that to someday happen, I put away every bit of money I could spare, for your future. I know we lived very simply, and I pray it didn’t cause you harm. However, I managed to put away a nice amount. It is in a bank vault in Raleigh. The key is taped to the back cover of this journal. It should be enough to see you through, without want, for the rest of your days here. Please use it wisely, and in need. And Steve…I know you will help Ghost with this.

Please don’t be upset over what I have told you. I only wanted you to know the truth about everything, and to know how much you are loved, and how much you have meant to me. I love you, Grandmother.”

Ghost and Steve were both wiping tears from their faces by the end of the reading. This was beyond anything they’d ever imagined. Neither of them knew what to say to break the spell that had come over them…and so, they stayed in each other’s arms, eventually falling asleep, there on the old couch.

***

***

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 # 46

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Two Souls: Into the Fire # 46

warning … adult content

***

“Hey, Kinsey,” Terry yelled, as he barged into the Sacred Yew. He looked for Kinsey in his office. Kinsey looked up, surprised to see Terry here. “You’ll never guess what kind of drama just happened over at the shop.”

Before Kinsey could reply, Terry blurted out the whole story. “Dude, I almost shot Ghost!”

“What?” Kinsey looked alarmed.

“Yeah, Steve and I were working, and Ghost comes slamming in the door, looking like a psycho, crazy person, yelling about something or other. Man, I thought we were being robbed! So, I grab my pistol and start shooting…”

“Wait…wait…did you shoot him, really?”

“Naw, Steve hollered at me that it was Ghost, but for sure, he scared the shit outta me!”

“Where are they now?”

“Took off down the road to their house, I guess. You should’a seen it, Kinsey. The first time I see Ghost since he’s back in town, and I swear, I’m not lying, he’s all sweaty and red faced…and his hair’s flying in all directions, and…hahaha…” Terry starts laughing. “He was all raggedy clothes, and didn’t even have shoes on. Ran all the way here…and no shoes on. Now that I’m not scared, it’s pretty funny.”

“Well, it sounds like something’s going on out there with those two,” Kinsey said.

“Yeah, let’s go see what’s up.”

Kinsey shook his head, no. “Let ’em be, Terry. If they want us to know, they’ll tell us. Let them handle it. It’s none of our business…yet.”

“I think it kinda is my business, since it happened in my shop, and I had to go shoot my gun!”

Kinsey gave Terry a look, then said, “You do whatever you want, then…leave me out of it.” He gave Terry a cold beer, to help him see he should just stay here at the bar. Of course that worked. Terry still talked on and on about what had happened, as Kinsey got back to work.

~

Ghost and Steve finally got home. At their door, however, Ghost hesitated.

“Well, show me, Ghost.” Steve held open the screen.

“Uh…uh…I don’t really want to see it again. You just go look in there first,” Ghost said.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll go look, but you’re going to have to do more than just stand out here.”

Steve went in, not wanting to admit he was nervous. After the voices and moving boxes, he was reluctant to see what was in there.

Ghost yelled in after him, “Don’t let the boogy man get ya!”

“Oh, crap,” thought Steve, “just what I needed.”

“Shut up, Ghost!” he yelled back. He went down the hallway to the bathroom door and looked in. “Yep, it’s a big ‘ol mess in here,” he said.

Broken glass, and contents from the medicine cabinet were scattered all over the floor. He looked at the wall…and, there were the words. “That’s funny that Miz Deliverance would hide the journal in a place so hard to find. When did she remove the medicine cabinet without us knowing about it, anyway, and how did she do it? She was just a little old lady,” Steve thought. “Then, she had to put it back up there. This is very strange.”

“Ghost, get in here! This is your house, and your grandmother’s doing. You’re supposed to find it, not me,” Steve yelled.

After a minute, Ghost peeked around the bathroom door. His eyes were wide, the pupils dilated from being scared.

“Don’t go freaking out now, Ghost…we have to finish this. I guess we’ll have to tear out the boards first. I’ll go find a hammer or something,” Steve said. “But, you’re gonna take the first whack!”

They never did figure out how the journal got behind the wall…how Miz Deliverance could have done it without leaving a sign that the boards had ever been disturbed.

Steve handed the hammer to Ghost, who hauled back and bashed the wall hard. That put a small hole in the old wood. So he did it again, then again, making the hole larger every time. Steve had never seen Ghost be so aggressive. It was like he was beating out demons or something. Steve didn’t even have to take a swing.

“I…I…can’t…I can’t reach in there, Steve,” Ghost panted. “You do it.”

Steve nodded, then reached in…into the dark hollow between the walls, and felt around. He was sure something was going to grab him, or maybe a mousetrap would spring shut on his fingers, like a booby trap..or maybe even a mouse, or worse, would bite him. But, he did it anyway. Then he felt something. It was book shaped, but soft, like suede leather. He slowly pulled it out.

They both just stared at it. Ghost shuddered and whispered, “It’s not good, Steve…whatever it says, it’s not good. I just think we should not open it, and take it out and burn it up!”

“Ghost, we can’t do that. If it wasn’t so bad that your grandmother could write it, then it isn’t so bad you can’t read it…and besides, she told you to.”

“Well, I don’t want to! You can read it if you have to, then you can just tell me any good parts.”

“No, Ghost, we’re going to read it together.” Steve was firm about that.

“Maybe someday, then…”

“No, today,” Steve insisted, and he grabbed Ghost by the wrist and led him out to the old couch.

Steve held the leather covered pages…Ghost wouldn’t touch it. It was a nice looking journal, soft brown suede, with a long string to bind it, and quite a few pages to it. He undid the string. Ghost was breathing hard.

Don’t go flaking out on me, Ghost. It’ll be okay,” Steve said. “It’s just words on paper. You like words. You write words all the time. Nothing bad about that.”

“But…words have meanings, Steve! Words put together in different ways are powerful! They can make you do things…like laugh, or cry, or get mad…or, well they make you feel things!”

***

***

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 # 43

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 43

warning … adult content

***

During the night, Ghost had bad dreams. He seemed to hear the eerie voice he’d heard before, saying he was never supposed to be here at all…and of spiders crawling down the walls and into his bed. He called out to Steve, to help him in his dream, and he actually did call out loud, and Steve heard him, and went to Ghost’s room. Steve hadn’t been asleep yet at all. He’d just tossed around thinking of where the journal could be, and what it might say about Ghost, the picture, and how it probably wasn’t good. He worried how it would make Ghost feel.

He got into Ghost’s bed, holding him close, while Ghost continued to dream. He knew Ghost would tell him about those crazy dreams in the morning. He always did. At last Steve started humming an old song, and it calmed him enough to sleep.

Both of them slept late, the next morning. Bleary eyed, Steve looked at the time, and quickly made coffee, gulping some down. If he didn’t really hurry, he’d be late for work. He shook Ghost mostly awake, telling him he’d be back after work, and to keep looking for the journal. Ghost just mumbled uh-huh, and rolled over. Steve wasn’t sure Ghost would actually keep looking. He seemed reluctant, but this was pretty important.

Ghost finally stumbled into the kitchen for coffee. Sitting at the table, he thought about his awful dreams. He wrote all his dreams down in a separate notebook. Then, he wondered if he should look for the mystery journal. First, he tried to get a sense of where it might be. He closed his eyes and pushed his mind into every corner of the house…nothing. So he started looking through the books again. He didn’t get very far, without Steve there to keep him focused.

His ADD was worse than it had been in awhile, so he was distracted by the titles of the books, and kept thumbing through, reading bits and pieces. Reading about herbs and spices made him hungry, so he went to fix a sandwich. Taking it out to the front porch, he sat in the old swing, and tried to think of some words to a new song. Words were coming to him fast, so he had to go get his lyrics notebook. He wrote for awhile. Getting sleepy now, he dozed off, there on the porch swing.

Waking some time later, he noticed the star sign he’d painted on the porch in front of the door. It was faded. He found his little jars of paint, and re-did the whole warding off sign. As he passed by the books he’d left scattered around the living room, he remembered he was supposed to be searching the house.

“Damn, this is the longest day ever,” he muttered to himself. “When’s Steve coming home?”

He figured he’d better try looking some more. Steve would ask if he had, but it was too overwhelming…too much to look through.

“This is impossible,” he thought, as he stood in the back room, with the dusty little bottles and boxes of herbs, antique medicines, and…spiders. He hurried out of that room, shutting the door.

He sighed, “Now what?”

As he looked out the back screen door, he thought he saw something move over in the thick trees. “Probably a raccoon,” he thought, but got spooked, anyway, and shut and locked the back and front doors. He looked through the books again…no luck.

Finally, finally he heard the gravel on the driveway crunching, then Steve was banging on the door. “Hey, let me in, Ghost!”

Ghost hurried to unlock the door, and nearly knocked Steve down, with a big hug and kisses. “I thought you’d never get home, Steve! I missed you so much. I don’t like being here by myself, it’s boring and scary.” Ghost rattled on and on. Steve smiled at the enthusiastic homecoming.

They sat on the couch, each with a beer, and Steve observed the books lying around. “Any luck?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” Ghost said.

“So, where all did you look?”

“Well, the books, and I tried to look in the back room, but I thought there was spiders looking at me, so I had to not look in there,” Ghost explained.

“Okay, I’ll help you look now,” Steve said, patiently, knowing pretty much how it had gone that day with Ghost. He’d known Ghost so long, he could predict that he’d have gotten way off course and distracted. Ghost grinned at Steve, and looked at him through fallen strands of hair on his face.

“Yeah…you’re right, that’s pretty much what happened.”

Steve knew Ghost had heard what he’d been thinking. “So, let’s finish up these books, ok?” Steve went to the book wall. Ghost followed. They both just stared at how much there was left, but then started in again.

“It’s no use to keep looking, Steve,” Ghost complained. They’d been at it for about half an hour.”I want to go somewhere,” he continued. “I’ve been here for a bunch of days. I’m tired of staying in the house.”

Steve sighed, “I know, Ghost, but I just got home. I don’t want to walk all the way back to town. I’ve got to get a car.”

“How ya gonna do that?” asked Ghost.

“Well, I had an idea. Terry has a couple of old junkers he’s not using, maybe he’d let me pay a little out of my paycheck each week, for one of them. I’m gonna ask him.”

They began to plan where they’d go when they got a car, and Ghost was distracted from going somewhere that night. They still weren’t finding anything in the books.

“I’m looking in the kitchen,” said Ghost, “and I’m hungry again.”

Giving up on the books, Steve went to the back room and opened the door. He’d never been comfortable going in there, even when Ghost and he would sneak in there as kids. It was kind of spooky, but he went in anyway, just to try and poke around. He moved a few dusty boxes, and stomped on the floor, hoping to find a loose floorboard, or a secret safe behind the boxes, but a real spider crawled out from the shelf. Steve decided to get out of there.

“Maybe later,” he told himself. He went back to the kitchen, and took in the strange sight of Ghost, standing up on top of the cabinet, throwing stuff out onto the floor, from the top shelves.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Aiii,” Ghost hollered, almost falling off. “You scared me!”

“Well?” Steve asked.

“I’m looking, what does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re making a mess, and trying to fall and break your neck. That’s what it looks like”

“I’m gonna clean it up. This stuff is so old, it’s probably got spiders in it.” There were half used up boxes of cereal, rusty cans, outdated seasonings, and other miscellaneous kitchen items.

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” Steve said, grabbing a garbage bag, filling it with the thrown out things.

“Why are you so scared of spiders, Ghost? They’re just little bitty bugs.” He didn’t mention the fright he’d had himself, not ten minutes ago.

“I don’t know, they’re just creepy. I never liked them.”

***

***

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 # 42

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 42

warning … adult content

***

After talking with Kinsey that afternoon, Ghost was rummaging around in his old backpack, after coming back home.

“Hey, Steve, have you seen my Jesus rock?”

Steve gave him a look, and shook his head.

“It’s always in here, and now I can’t find it.”

“Maybe if you’d clean that thing out sometimes, you’d find what you wanted,” Steve suggested. “Let me see it.”

Ghost handed it over, with a pouty look. “Hey!” he shouted, when Steve dumped the whole thing out on the floor. “What’cha doin’ that for?”

“Look at this shit, Ghost! You’re mostly carrying around trash.”

He began picking up different things that had scattered on the floor. There were crushed leaves and rose petals, dried up markers, Ghost’s notebooks, a crumpled dollar bill, slips of paper with notes written on them, an old dirty t-shirt, a couple of feathers…

“What the hell is this?” Steve asked, holding it up by two fingers. “Ewww!”

“It used to be a peanut butter sandwich,” said Ghost, grinning.

Steve looked at it again. It was wrapped in plastic, smushed flat, and dried out. Steve threw it at Ghost, who dodged it.

“It’s a wonder you don’t have bugs crawling around in here,” Steve said.

He continued to pick through the stuff. “Here’s your stupid rock. Keep it where you can find it. I don’t want to do this again someday,” Steve cautioned.

He saw a small, folded up envelope among the papers. It had Ghost’s name on the front, and it was still sealed. It wasn’t his handwriting, or Ghost’s.

“What’s this? Don’t look like you ever opened it.” Steve handed the envelope to Ghost. Ghost looked puzzled.

“Well, are you gonna open it, or just stick it on your forehead and mind read it?” Steve asked.

Ghost didn’t want to do either one. Already, he could feel there was something strange about it. So, he just stared at it, trying to get some impression from the handwriting first. Steve rolled his eyes, as he went to the kitchen for a beer.

“It’d be easier to just open it, Dude. That’s all I’m saying.”

So, Ghost did open it. He gasped, and began sobbing, “Oh, my God, oh my God!”

Inside, were two black and white photographs, and a short note. One photo was of his grandmother, taken many years ago. Sitting beside her was the woman who’d taken care of him up in the mountains. He remembered her saying they’d been best friends.

His grandmother was holding a pale-haired baby, only a few months old. He knew this baby must be himself. The other photo was of a fair-haired girl, a teenager. This must be his mother.

Steve came running back into the living room to see what was upsetting Ghost. “What is it? What’s going on?” he asked.

Ghost was shaking, and still crying. He held out the photos to Steve. Kneeling down, Steve put his arm around Ghost’s shoulders. He recognized the mountain woman, and Ghost’s grandmother, but the others…wow, he thought.

“Is this you, Ghost, and…is this your mother?” he asked.

Ghost nodded, “I…I think it must be. I never seen a picture of her before, and Grandmother never, ever talked about her. It’s like I never had a mother, but here she is.”

A thousand thoughts were going through both their heads…too much to take in. What happened to Ghost’s mother? Why didn’t his grandmother ever talk about her, her own daughter? How did the note get into the backpack.

Steve then noticed the note, lying on the floor.”What’s that note say, anyway?”

Ghost had been so shocked by the pictures, he’d forgotten about the note. He picked it up and read: Ghost, this is a picture of your grandmother and me, and you and your mother. Before Deliverance died, I talked to her once on the phone. She said to give this to you someday. I guess that is now.

She also told me to tell you, after she was gone, something that she’d never told another soul before. She kept a secret journal, and it would explain everything. The journal is hidden in your house, there in Missing Mile. It would not be easy to find, but she wanted you to find it.

So, Ghost, I wish you well. I’m glad I could meet you again, and help you on your journey. It was signed by the woman on the mountain.

Ghost and Steve looked at each other with wide eyes. “I’m supposed to find a hidden journal somewhere?” Ghost asked in bewilderment.

“I guess so. Do you have any idea where to start looking?”

“No, and I’m not sure I even want to find it. Maybe I don’t want to have things explained. If she couldn’t tell me before, why do I need to know stuff now?” asked Ghost.

“Because she wanted you to, that’s why.” Steve said. He was afraid Ghost would refuse to look, and it would bug him to not know where it was and what it said.

“You were a cute baby,” Steve said. “Your Grandmother never had any other pictures?”

Ghost shook his head, “I never saw any.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, you have to start looking for that journal.”

Steve got up and turned in a circle, eyeing the living room, trying to scope out what might be a good hiding place.

“Steve, wait a minute. We can’t go tearing the place apart. I need to think about it first.”

“What’s to think about? Just start looking!”

“But, why wouldn’t she have said something before? Why didn’t I just know about it?” asked Ghost.

“Who knows,” said Steve “Maybe she did some kind of hocus-pocus, and put a block on it…or a firewall to keep you out, until the time was right. Where would you hide something around here?”

Ghost shrugged, “I don’t know, I’ve lived here forever, and know every inch of this house. She said it’d be hard to find. Maybe it’s buried in a safe under the house…or maybe it’s right in front of us, disguised so we don’t see it right off?”

They continued to scan the room. “It has to be here, Ghost. There’s not really an attic, just some boards holding the roof up, and no basement. Do you know of any secret doors, or cubby holes, or loose boards…or maybe it’s in the back room, with her potions and stuff. That room is spooky, anyway,” Steve said.

“I don’t know of any of that what you said, Steve, but I just had an idea. You see that wall of books over there? Nobody ever looks at them. They’ve always been there. Maybe it’s disguised as a book? Maybe one of those fake books, with the insides cut out?” He went over to the book wall.

They were mostly old books about herbs, wild flowers and weeds, medicines, and anatomy. A few were modern fiction, some classics, and biography. They were all dusty and worn looking.

“I don’t know, there might be a spider in there. What if one jumps out at me? There are so many of them. It’ll take too long to go looking at them all,” Ghost whined.

“So, you got anything better to do?” Steve asked.

“Well, no,” Ghost answered.

They started in, Ghost taking one shelf, Steve another. They weren’t having any luck; just stirring up dust, by the time midnight came. They agreed to do more searching the next day.

***

***

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 # 41

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 41

warning … adult content

***

“Steve, I have to tell you something,” Ghost said.

“What’s that, Ghost? Is this gonna be scary?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think it’s something good. I hope you do, too.”

Steve sighed. Any number of things Ghost would think was good..like a new song he’d written, or finding a Jesus rock, or seeing a dragonfly and claiming that winter was not gonna be bad this year, or even a rainbow. So, he was startled to hear Ghost say,

“Kinsey came out here today…when you were at work.” Ghost stopped to see if Steve had a reaction.

“And…” Steve asked, “what happened? Did you let him in, or pretend you weren’t here?”

“I let him in…we talked.” Ghost could feel Steve tensing up, maybe getting angry.

“Guess he was so happy to see his good as gold boy come back home. Never mind the bad boy he wouldn’t even acknowledge was right here all the time,” Steve said, throwing his beer bottle off into the bushes.

“Steve, please, let me finish,” pleaded Ghost.

“Sure go on, Ghost, tell me all about it. What on Earth did y’all talk about? Hmmm? Oh, wait, it was about me, wasn’t it…don’t need no super powers to figure that one out, now do I?”

“Well, yeah, we talked about you, Steve, and other stuff, and…”

“What’d ya do, Ghost…beg and plead for him to like me again? Bet that worked like a charm. Had him wrapped around your little finger in two seconds, I’ll bet. Is that how it went, Ghost…is it? I don’t need to have you fight my battles for me. If Kinsey can’t talk to me, to my face, then fuck him, that’s all!”

He paused in his rant, staring hard at Ghost. He was surprised to see that Ghost hadn’t broken down in tears, yet. In fact, Ghost was staring at him just as hard. Ghost wasn’t backing down, he wasn’t scared of his outburst at all. He actually looked a bit disgusted with him.

“Oh, shit, now I’m in for it,” he thought. He knew when Ghost got mad, watch out and take cover. He hardly ever got mad, but when he did, it was very effective, because of the shock value.”

Ghost stood up then, swaying a bit, as he leaned over Steve, who was still sitting on the grave.

“Stop it right now, Steve! Stop putting yourself down as the evil brother. Yeah, it happened just like you said. I begged and pleaded for Kinsey not to hate you anymore. Only because I know you wouldn’t. I’m not fighting your battles, but maybe I opened the door a little, so you can. Face up to your shit, Steve. Own it and move on. Patch up the stuff with Kinsey. He does understand. He said for us to come back to the club. He wants to talk to you and make things right again. He’s taken the first step, Steve, now it’s your move. And, I hope it’s one decision you’ll make without letting your temper ruin it.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Steve said. “I still don’t have to like it. I’ll go talk to Kinsey, but you better be there to help me keep it together. I’ll listen to what he has to say, and really, I’m tired of this bullshit. If we can call a truce, then maybe we can all get back to normal around here.”

Steve was calming down now, and he had a completely random thought, out of nowhere…”Damn, Ghost looks so cute when he’s mad.”

Ghost narrowed his eyes, “I heard that, and it’s not gonna win you any points, this time.” But, he grinned his lopsided grin, and his eyes softened back to their usual sky blue, the stormy darkness fading away.

“So, we’ll go over to the club after you get out of work. I’ll meet you there,” said Ghost.

“Fine. Guess that will work,” said Steve.

They went back up to the house and awaited a new day.

~

The next afternoon, Ghost walked into town to meet Steve. He hoped he wouldn’t see anyone yet, and he didn’t. The town felt deserted. It was kind of weird. Then, he understood why. Kinsey had spread the word that there was going to be a showdown between the three of them. Steve had told Terry what was up, and Terry had called Kinsey to let him know that Ghost and Steve were coming.

As Ghost got to the door of the Sacred Yew, he hesitated. Memories of all the time he’d spent there over the years came back, flooding his senses. This felt like coming home, too. He opened the big wooden door, entering the cool dimness of the club. Nothing had changed in the two years since he’d last been here. The smell was the same as always…stale beer and a smoky haze, left from last night’s customers. The stage was the same, and his writing wall was still there. He was glad everything was the same. He’d missed the place.

He walked to the back, where Kinsey’s office was. Kinsey looked up, as he entered. Smiling, he motioned for Ghost to come on in and have a seat on the old couch.

“Hey, Kinsey, I’m here. Steve should be here in a few minutes.”

“Hey, Ghost, how did you convince Steve to come…that I wasn’t gonna punch his lights out?”

“Well, I got mad and told him he had to,” Ghost said.

Kinsey nodded. Then they heard the front door open.

“Hey, Steve, we’re back here,” Ghost hollered, but he was feeling anxious. This could either go good or go bad, and he was right in the middle. He sent Steve a silent message, to please stay calm, and to stay and work it out with Kinsey…don’t go storming out. He hoped it worked.

Steve came to the doorway and just stood there, but gave Ghost a reassuring look. then, he looked over at Kinsey.

Kinsey spoke first, “Hey, Steve.”

“Hey, Kinsey.”

Ghost swiveled his head between them both.

“Y’all sit down, let’s talk this thing out,” Kinsey said. He was thinking, though, that this is the first time in two years I’ve seen these two together. It’s amazing the instant electricity and silent communication they have. I’ve always known it, but these two were meant for each other.They fit so well together…the one dark, the other light…the one with the fiery personality, the other like calm blue water.

So they talked, going over the whole thing, piece by piece. There were some angry words, but they were able to contain them within bounds. There were tears, and there was forgiveness on all their parts. In the end they agreed to let the past stay in the past, and start anew. It took a lot from them emotionally, but it cleared the air.

Kinsey said they could play a show whenever they were ready, and that got them all on the subject of planning it. They were all feeling relieved after their long talk. Ghost and Steve left for home, and Kinsey just leaned back in his chair, shaking his head and smiling.

***

***

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 # 39

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 39

warning … adult content

***

Steve and Ghost continued to find their way with each other. Some days were harder than others, but they had come through the fire at last…tempered by the flames of betrayal, painful, physical, and emotional scars. They grew to trust one another again, with an enduring ember, that would burn forever, however many times that ember would flare with sparks, and they knew they could face it together.

Steve had not mentioned to Ghost, that he’d seen Terry on that morning he’d gone out for groceries. As he was leaving the small store, arms full of bags, Terry had just come in. They had not seen each other since Steve had been in the hospital, nor had they spoken on the phone. It had been awhile, so it was a bit awkward now, to see each other.

“Hey, Steve, how’s it going?” asked Terry.

“Hey, Terry. It’s going okay…been busy.” Steve said, as he adjusted the bags he held.

“Looks like you’re set for awhile then, with all that food ya got there,” Terry chuckled.

Steve wasn’t in a mood to talk, but he did want to see if he could come back to work for Terry, so he tentatively, hopefully asked.

Terry gave him a hard look. “Uh…Steve, when you left the shop, you said you weren’t ever gonna come back to work for me. You were bored and hated it. What’s changed?”

“I know, Terry, I know,” Steve humbled himself, “but, I need money. I gotta get another car. And, actually, I’m bored not working. Kinsey won’t let me play over there at the club anymore, so…what d’ya say?” he gave Terry a smile.

Terry sighed, “Steve, I know things have been hard for you lately, so…if you’re serious, and I mean you come in on time, and no calling in with a hangover…ya know what I mean…then, ok. I’ll give you another chance. Just one more, got it?”

“Yeah, Terry, I got it, and thanks, man.”

“Okay then, come in starting next Monday morning, regular time, regular pay. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Sure thing, Terry. See ya then,” and as Steve began to walk away, he heard Terry say, almost like he didn’t want him to hear, yet loud enough that he did…

“Say hey to Ghost, when ya get home.”

Steve froze for a second, then tried to pretend he didn’t hear, and continued walking.

“Shit,” he thought. “Why did Terry say that? How could he know Ghost was back? Could he just feel my happiness, could he see on my face that it was true?”

He hurried on home. He’d have to tell Ghost that word was out that he was back in town. Then, with all that happened when he got back to the house, he’d forgotten. Now, he decided he’d better say something about it.

“Hey, Ghost? Guess what?” Steve asked the next morning, after their night of soul searching. “I got my job back with Terry.”

“You saw Terry?” Ghost asked.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you. When I got those groceries, he was there. I asked him about it…said I could start next week. What d’ya think?”

“Well, I guess if you have to,” said Ghost.

“Yeah, I do kinda have to, since I’m flat broke, and I gotta get another car, and we have to eat,” said Steve. And now comes the tricky part… he continued, “Oh, by the way…I think word is out that you’re back in town, Ghost.”

Ghost caught his breath, “How? I haven’t seen anyone, haven’t been anywhere.”

“I don’t know…just that Terry said to tell you hey, when I got back to the house. I didn’t say anything at all to make him think you were here.”

Ghost sighed, “Well, I didn’t want to yet, but guess if Terry figured it out, he’s telling everyone in town.” He thought for a minute.

“How’re we gonna do this? How am I gonna do this? Should I just hoover around the edge of town, and people could say ‘yeah, I saw a ghost’, or should I just pop out at people and say ‘Boo, I’m back.”? Ghost started giggling, and couldn’t quit, and Steve joined in, until finally they had to stop and catch their breath.

“Oh, shit, Ghost, you crack me up!” Steve laughed. “Well, let’s just wait and see what happens. You know Terry probably ran straight to Kinsey, and he’ll tell everyone else. I’m going to the record store in a couple of days. I’ll see what’s been going on, and then we can go from there, ok?”

“Yeah, let’s have a couple more days to ourselves first,” Ghost agreed.

~

Meanwhile, Steve was right. Terry had figured it out, and went to see Kinsey. Kinsey was happy to hear Ghost was back, but it complicated things..a lot. He’d always thought of those two as sons he’d never had, stood up for them, and helped them along, however he could. But, he’d been so horrified at what Steve had done, he’d cut off all communication with him, and shut off his feelings…washed his hands of him. Now, if Ghost was back with Steve, and could forgive him, could he do the same? He didn’t know. Terry had taken Steve back to work with him, said he was in a much better place after his wreck. He was trying to make things better. Said he looked happier than he’d been in a long time.

“Well,” Kinsey sighed, “guess I can try, too.” Then, there was the matter of the posters he’d received in the mail a while back. What should he do about that? “Maybe when Steve is on the job on Monday, I’ll drive out to Ghost’s house…see if he’s really there, and bring the posters with me…let Ghost know what’s going on with that,” he thought.

~

So on Monday morning, Steve walked into town to work…on time and in a good mood. Ghost planned on writing in his journal, and working on some new songs, then cooking them something for later. He was on the old couch, writing some lyrics, when he heard a car crunching the gravel in the driveway. He looked out through the front screen door, and saw Kinsey’s car stop. Watching him come up on the porch, Ghost felt a twinge of anxiety, and was surprised at how much older Kinsey looked after almost two years. He sensed Kinsey’s feelings about coming here, too. The feeling of anxiety from him, too and of hopefulness of seeing Ghost again, and his turmoil about Steve.

Then, Ghost mentally shook himself, and realized he had no need to be afraid to see Kinsey. He was sure he could help put it right, about Kinsey’s reluctance about Steve. Even so, when Kinsey knocked on the screen door, Ghost jumped, and his heart pounded. He rose off the couch, and slowly walked to the door.

His eyes were beginning to fill with tears, at seeing Kinsey again, after so long. As he opened the door, Kinsey still looked a little surprised to actually find Ghost there. Then at the same time, they both spoke the other’s name.

“You really are here, Ghost.”

Ghost nodded, which made his tears fall. He reached out, hugging Kinsey tight. “I’m here, Kinsey. I had to come back. This is home.”

“I know, Ghost, I know,” said Kinsey, with a catch in his throat, as he hugged Ghost, and smoothed his hair away from his face. “Just let me look at you for a minute. It’s so good to see you.”

They sat on the couch and talked a bit. Ghost telling a little about where he’d been, Kinsey relating town news. Then, they both grew quiet. Both had something important to say, and neither knew how to start. Then Ghost took a deep breath, and began.

***

***

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 # 37

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 37

warning … adult content

***

Ghost entered the house, walking down the hall to his bedroom. The door was already opened, the house smelled good…like sage. He smiled, knowing that Steve had burnt the sage for him. In the bedroom, he took off his clothes and got into the bed, with nice clean blankets, only having one twinge of anxiety, before falling asleep. He had no nightmares this night.

Some time later, Steve came in and quietly looked in at Ghost. Going over, he brushed a strand of hair from Ghost’s face and lightly kissed his forehead. He felt a rush of love for this child of wonder. Going to his own room, he fell asleep as soon as he lay down. “Tomorrow, we’ll have a fresh start,” was the last thing he thought about.

~

Early the next morning, Steve made coffee, then left Ghost a note by the coffee pot. It said, “I’ve gone to get us some groceries. I’ll be back soon. I love you, Steve.”

Ghost grinned when he read it. He’d have to tease Steve, when he returned. He had written proof now, that Steve loved him. He drank his coffee, and took a long needed shower. Finding some of his old clothes, he put on a soft, well-worn hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, with only a few holes in them.

He was sitting on the old couch, writing in his journal, when Steve came back, huffing and puffing, carrying bags of stuff, and complaining about the long walk. He looked at Ghost still sitting there, and said,

“So, are you just gonna sit there, or are ya gonna help me with this shit?”

Ghost grinned and said, “I’m just gonna sit here and watch you deal with all that shit,” and then had to duck, as Steve lobbed a box of cereal at him.

He grabbed the box and tore it open, grabbing handfuls of the sweet, sugary stuff, spilling some, eating it right from the box.

“Good thing I got the kid cereal. Looks like there’s a little kid up in here today,” Steve said, as he juggled the bags into the kitchen.

“You got this kind ’cause you looove me,” Ghost teased.

“Yeah, right,” Steve hollered from the kitchen.

Ghost came and leaned on the door frame, watching Steve put things away.

“What else ya got in there, anyway?”

“Grown up food, that’s what,” Steve said. “Maybe if you’d grow up, you could have some.”

“Hmmmph,” muttered Ghost. “I’m grown up.”

Steve finished his task, then got himself a bowl of cereal with milk. He looked like he wanted to talk about serious stuff, Ghost thought.

‘I hate to break it to ya, Ghost, but that was the last of the money I had. Guess I’ll have to go back to work at the record store…if Terry will have me.”

“Where’s your car, Steve?” Ghost asked.

Narrowing his eyes, Steve stared hard at Ghost. “It got totaled. Guess you didn’t hear about that, since you were off doing God knows what.” Steve looked at Ghost, and his eyes were not happy.

Ghost didn’t like this turn in the conversation. It was like Steve was accusing him of wrecking his car. Steve continued, with a sharp edge to his words.

“Yeah, I wrecked the son-of-a-bitch…had too much to drink. Coming back here after a binge, drowning myself in alcohol, because I couldn’t find you, Ghost. Wrapped it around a tree on the way back from Raleigh one night. I had to be in the hospital up there for three weeks. I was a mess, broke arm, broke ribs, stitches…but, I guess it was a wake-up call. I haven’t been drinking, at least not as much any more…”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah? I thought you were supposed to know everything. Well, guess your super powers failed ya this time. Guess it’s my turn to tell you not to say you’re sorry. If it hadn’t been for…” he quit talking then, as he realized what he was doing. He was accusing Ghost, and really, it was his own fault for causing Ghost to leave in the first place. And, he was practically yelling in Ghost’s face.

“Oh, my God, Ghost! None of this is your fault, none of it,” and he wanted to say I’m sorry, but had been warned not to. So he just clamped his mouth shut and stared at the table in front of him.

Ghost turned, leaving the room.

“Why, why, why did I do that?” Steve thought. “Every time I open my mouth something bad comes out, and then it’s too late to take it back. I wind up hurting everyone I know.”

More sarcastic thoughts came into his head…”Well, he asked what happened to the car. He didn’t know, but I didn’t have to tell him all that. Damn!”

He could hear Ghost trying to cry quietly, in the bedroom. Steve sighed as he went to see about him…to try to make things right again.

As he came to the doorway, he saw that Ghost was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, tears running down into his ears, wetting his hair and pillow. Steve walked over and tried to touch him, but Ghost turned away, then said with a sob…

“God does know what I was off doing, Steve. I was too busy dying to hear about your wreck. But, if I had, I’d have come back to be with you, even when I was dead!”

He turned back toward Steve, wiping the tears from his face, but Steve was already brushing away the tears with his thumbs, cradling Ghost’s face in his hands. He noticed Ghost’s left eye twitching, and wondered about it.

“Ghost, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I never can say things the right way. It comes out all wrong. I’m sorry…yeah, I have to say it, and I mean it. And, I am sorry, too. I’m a sorry son-of-a-bitch for hurting you over and over.”

“I know, Steve,” Ghost said. “I know you don’t mean to, and I try to not let it bother me,” he took a deep breath. “Can we just start over?” he grinned, and again Steve saw his broken tooth..

“Yeah, Ghost, we can start over. At least we can try.”

***

***

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 # 36

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 36

warning … adult content

***

Ghost made his way through the woods to Missing Mile’s graveyard. It was several miles by the main road, but seemed to be a shorter distance going this back way. He didn’t know why he blew up at Steve, back at the house. It was just this whole business of coming back was complicated.

“Why can’t anything be easy?” he thought.

Then an unbidden voice came into his mind. “Death is easy,” it whispered.

And he knew it to be true…now. He pushed the morbid thought from his mind, as he reached the back of the graveyard. His grandmother’s grave was right near, in a secluded, tree shaded area. He stood for a moment, just trying to focus his thoughts. A sudden soft breeze filtered through the pine trees, making a whispering sound. He knew his grandmother was near, and waiting for him to tell her all his troubles, just like she used to do when he was a kid.

Sitting cross-legged on top of her grave, he traced his fingers over the headstone that told her name, and the days of her life, etched there, softly timeworn after so many years. But, Ghost knew she’d never really left him alone. Her spirit would always be with him, would always be his guardian angel, his spirit guide. He spoke to her as if she was there, right in front of him. He remembered the last time he’d been here. His soul in pain, his body torn and bleeding.

“I had to come back,” he started. “You knew it before I did, and now felt like the time was right…but, is it…is it? I’m so confused. Everything seems so hard. I messed up so bad. I saw you…I knew you were there when I crossed over for a little while. You told me to come back, to make things right, it wasn’t time for me over there. But, I wanted to stay,” he sobbed, “I wanted to stay.”

Wiping his eyes, he began again. “I met someone else, and I thought he could make me forget about Steve. But, he was too greedy. He took everything he could from me, and then hurt me in the end. Now I’m back here, and I’ve forgiven Steve, and I love him…but, I’m still afraid, so afraid,” he knelt against the gravestone, letting his tears run down the cold granite and into the soft earth below.

“Ghost Child,” he heard her voice, a soft whisper in his mind. “You are right where you are supposed to be. I’ve seen all your pain. I’ve felt your turmoil. I can see you are troubled, but I know you must go through tough times, go through the fire, to test your love for Steve, to continue to evolve into the true soul spirit you were born to be. I can only guide you so far, Ghost Child. the rest is up to you. You and only you can decide which path you follow.

I will never forsake you. You will always be here in my heart. Come and talk to me often. I will try to ease some of the confusion and pain you feel. Try not to be afraid of life, Ghost Child…embrace it, learn from the hard parts, and live joyously in the good parts. Your ability to empathize with all creation is only to help you. You can’t take on everyone’s pain and sorrow. It would ultimately destroy you.

You must go to your love, enjoy this lifetime with him, as you have in the past, and which you will in the future. Do not despair, do not let your depression take over and cloud your emotions. Give everything of yourself to this life, and do not regret anything.”

Ghost had fallen into an exhausted sleep. He heard his grandmother’s voice while awake, and continued to heed her advice, as he drifed off. He had no idea how long he’d been out there in the graveyard, but as he came slowly awake, it was getting on toward twilight. A few stars were beginning to shine in the indigo sky.

~

He was tired, so tired still…of trying so hard, of not knowing what to do, of being afraid. He sighed. He did feel the beginnings of a new outlook on things. Maybe he could figure it out. He pulled on his old Army jacket, and as he did, he noticed his left wrist… and the tattoo he’d gotten there. He smiled to himself, as he remembered the day it had happened. It was up in the mountains. There was a guy who practiced the art of tattooing there, one of his kinfolk, he supposed. Being curious, he watched the man at his craft several times, then decided he wanted one. He’d always been scared to before, but he’d seen Steve’s silly one, and figured he’d get one to match. So, he gathered his courage and had the guy write the word ‘Steve’ on the inside of his left wrist in sky blue ink. It hurt like hell, but he managed to get through it. He looked at it now, and kissed it, as he said,

“Help me get through the rest of my life, Steve. I don’t think I can do it without you by my side.”

~

He knew he needed to go back to his house and see Steve. He hoped Steve had finished cleaning. Shaking the pine needles from his hair and clothes, he began the walk back. He tried to think of what to say to Steve, when he returned home. He didn’t know what mood Steve would be in, but figured he would take his cue and hope for the best.

As he walked up behind the house, he noticed the porch light on out front, and could hear Steve playing a few chords on his guitar. Coming closer, he saw Steve there, sitting on the old swing and looking calm.

Hesitating a bit, Ghost walked over and sat in the swing, next to Steve.

“Hey,” Ghost said, softly.

Steve looked over, “Hey.”

Steve continued to strum his guitar, and as he did, he asked Ghost, “You ok?”

“Uh-huh,”

There were no more words needed. Ghost began humming along to the song, an old ballad he’d written long ago, and they just enjoyed being there together in the quiet, country night.

After awhile, Ghost, who’d been yawning and could hardly keep his eyes open, got up, saying he was going to bed. Steve looked up at him, and just nodded. They knew each other’s thoughts at that moment.

“Is it ok for me to go in there, now?”

“It’s ok for you to go back in there. Call out for me if you need to…I’ll be there.”

***

***

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 # 35

Standard

Two Souls: Into the Fire # 35

warning … adult content

***

Tears from them both mingled together as they kissed and renewed their promise to each other, never to be apart again. Then Ghost pulled back a little and said,

“I’m not ready to see anyone from town yet. I just need some time, time to think about stuff, ya know. I don’t want to have to explain things, and see the looks they’ll have. You know, like feeling sorry for me, wondering why I came back, how we could work things out between us after…after…”

Steve nodded. “Okay, Ghost, when you’re ready, not before.”

Ghost turned back to looking out the window. “I need to go to the graveyard. I have to talk to my grandmother, and well…I can’t be here when you…uh…”

Steve knew. Ghost couldn’t be here when he cleaned out the bedroom. He wished he didn’t have to he here to do it either, but he nodded and said, “I’ll fix it up before you get back. I’m so sorry. Please forgive…”

He didn’t finish his words, because Ghost whirled back around, and snapped at him.

“Stop saying you’re sorry, Steve! I get it, already. You’re sorry you raped me, you’re sorry you beat me almost to death, you’re sorry the room is a mess, with my blood still all over it. You did it all, Steve. You did it all…and I came back, and I forgive you, and I love you, but it’s over now…over and done with. I can’t, I won’t go on reliving it every time you say you’re sorry!”

Ghost was breathing hard. Steve had never seen him so angry, his eyes darkening with emotion. He didn’t have a comeback for Ghost’s outburst. Then Ghost continued.

“I’m going now. I’m going the back way through the woods. I don’t know how long I’ll be there, but I need to be alone for awhile. I will be back, Steve. So, now that I’ve accounted for my every move to you…”

Grabbing his backpack, he left out the back door, letting the screen slam behind him, as he started walking down the path through the trees, without another word, or looking back.

Steve just stood there in shock. “What the hell was that?” he asked himself. “Fine, he can just be alone for awhile, if that’s what he wants.”

He stomped around looking for cleaning supplies. He dreaded the job before him, but it had to be done, and done now. He grabbed some garbage bags and the broom. He ran a bucket of hot, soapy water, and took them all into the hallway. Opening the bedroom door, the feelings and remembered actions of that night enveloped him.

“This room is always going to he haunted with bad memories,” he thought. He shook his head to clear it, and with more confidence, said aloud,

“Listen here, room, that’s all you are…you have no power over me and Ghost!” Then he thought, “Listen to me, talking to a damn room like a crazy person.” But, that didn’t stop him from hoping Ghost still had some sage brooms to burn and wave the smoke around, to help cleanse the bad juju away.

He didn’t even know where to start. There was stuff everywhere. He picked  up a blanket from the floor, stuffing it into the garbage bag.

Trying not to think about it, he stripped the bed of it’s sheets and blankets. Trying to ignore the bloodstains that had soaked all the way down into the mattress, he steeled himself against the tears that were stinging his eyes, threatening to fall. He kept on picking up things. He’d have to take all this to the laundry someday, he thought, as he put the full bag into the back room, where the old, dusty potions were, that Miz Deliverance had stored. They almost never went in there, so this would hold the soiled sheets, until he could, one…find a way to get it to the laundromat in town, without a car, and two…get some money to put in the machines.

He began sweeping the floor, cleaning out dried leaves, rose petals, dried up markers, a few beer cans that had rolled under the bed, and two years worth of dust and cobwebs. With old rags, he began to wipe down the walls and the mattress, but this almost made him lose it. The soapy water turned Ghost’s long dried blood into red liquid again, running in streaks down the wall, mingling with marker ink. The mattress was impossible, so he turned it over to the cleaner side.

Finally, he’d done as much as he could. He put clean sheets and blankets on the bed, then looked around. In the closet he’d found some sage bundles, so he lit a wad of it. It smelled good, as he waved it around. He felt a bit silly doing it, but knew that this is what Ghost would do, would want him to do. As he waved the smoke around, he said whatever came to mind, to banish bad spirits. He’d heard Ghost many times, so he figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Be gone! Bad spirits, get the hell outta here. Don’t ever come back. You have no power over me and Ghost. Leave us alone, or I’ll bust your ass! Oogga-boogga…abracadabra…hocus-pocus…and all that shit!”

He burst out laughing like a madman, at hearing himself say all this mumbo-jumbo. He didn’t believe half of any of it, but he knew Ghost took it seriously. And he trusted Ghost with his life, so maybe there was something to it.

Finally done, he grabbed the lone beer from the fridge, and went out to the front porch to sit in the old swing. He let his mind go blank, and just sat.

***

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.