McGinty's Ghost
Summary: A Halloween story with a different spin.
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to their creators. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made.
Author: Tracy Diane Miller E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
McGinty's Ghost
1798
Death had not waited to exhale; instead, it let out a cold and powerful breath that effectively strangled the early morning air. Still, the sun had not abandoned her. The rays illuminated her porcelain features. Amazingly, her sapphire eyes weren't hollowed by fear despite the grim predicament that awaited her. Those magnificent jewels radiated with the hope of Salvation in the Hereafter. Her long, raven hair that usually flowed majestically down her back today appeared as untamed and confused as a filly left alone to explore unfamiliar terrain. Poorly fed, unclean and corrupted by the dirt and stench of the cell that had been her home for the past few days, one might expect that her beauty and spirit would have been compromised as she walked that last mile of her life. They would be wrong. That her inner and outer beauty along with a quiet strength should surface even now surprised the crowd of onlookers who observed her. Death, hungry and impatient, would be pleased to receive so resplendent a soul.
Gnarled hands gripped her arm. Cold eyes peeked out from the wrinkled but expressionless face. He had been one of her most ardent accusers; yet, he had visited her in jail, begged her to confess her sins and ask for the Lord's forgiveness. He had insisted that he had prayed long and hard that her soul be spared the raging fires of Purgatory. She had said nothing during his discourse, but had instead silently cursed his hypocrisy.
Her gait was slow yet proud as she approached the masked executioner. This disciple of Death was cloaked in a black hood that completely concealed his head; only several small openings in the fabric accommodated his eyes, nose, and mouth. The alteration in the material allowed the man to gaze intently at the beautiful woman that he had been instructed to deliver into the hands of the Grim Reaper. A momentary pang of sorrow washed over him. She was too young to die. Then, remembering the "high" crimes that she had committed, he found solace in the performance of his duty. Undaunted, the man stood on the wooden scaffolding. His companion on the structure was a noose. Defiant, the rope refused to dance even as a strong gust of wind challenged its movement.
The scene was eerily reverent. The voices of the congregation that had roared in judgment of her now were muted in eager anticipation of her punishment. She had been given a choice. The only consideration afforded her was the method of execution. Burning or hanging. She had chosen hanging. If Death were so anxious to receive her, she would not prolong the inevitable.
As she walked the three stairs leading up to the platform, she said a silent prayer of thanks that her sisters had been able to escape. She also prayed that they weren't feeling guilty over the fact that she had been left behind. And she prayed for "him". What had happened to him? Was he all right?
She refused the hood that the executioner had offered her. She would not hide from her fate. Once the deed was done, she didn't want to have her lifeless body dangling with a hood over her head.
She looked out at the audience. So many people. Men and women; young and old. So many people who had surrendered the warmth of their beds to witness her execution. The children didn't seem afraid. They didn't appear to question what was about to happen. They just gazed at her, wide- eyed and silent.
The noose was placed around her neck. A second later, it was all over.
A cat had watched....
Chicago, October 31, 2003
He drank in her scent. He would never tire from exploring her body. He shivered from her touch. No woman had ever made him feel the way that she did.
The faint glow from the quickly burning candle on the small table captured the silhouette of the lovers. They were such a handsome couple. Both of them had hair as dark as coal. She could be focused one moment and impish the next. He was shy, yet mischief percolated below the surface of a quiet veneer. A boyish charm is what the ladies said he had. All of the young ladies had desired him, but it was she who had stolen his heart. The moment his mud green eyes feasted on her sapphire eyes he would swear that his heart had skipped a beat. And that he would love her forever.
She bathed his body with the sensuality of her kisses. Her long, dark mane teased at his bare chest.
Then it happened. Maybe she had expected it, but she had kept the gravity of the situation a secret. The door swung violently open. Two men, hostile and determined, had intruded upon the lovers. Mud green eyes became ablaze with anger. However, before he had a chance to reach for a weapon to protect her, a pistol was aimed at him. The men identified themselves as agents empowered by the law. They produced a document under seal claiming that it gave them the authority to arrest her for "high crimes".
One of the men grabbed her from the bed. Pistol or not, he would defend her. But it was she who begged him not to. She knew that they would kill him if he interfered. He wouldn't listen. As the men walked towards the door, the one man holding her arm tightly, he foolishly attempted a counterattack. His efforts were rewarded with a gunshot to the right shoulder. The bullet ripped through his flesh; blood erupted like lava through the wound. He...
Fell to the floor with a resounding thud!
"Meow."
Thump.
Disoriented, Gary's eyes flickered open. He pulled himself off of the floor and proceeded to the door all the while massaging his shoulder. It wasn't the first time that the intensity of a dream had jolted him so much that he ended up kissing the floor. But this dream...this nightmare... it had been a recurring theme for the last few nights. It seemed so real.
And it spooked him.
The last time that he remembered dreaming about a mystery woman was when he had plunged from that scaffolding attempting to save Justine's teddy bear. Of course, he learned later that the apparition haunting his subconscious was Daria and that somehow his dreams were connected with The Paper. The Paper had wanted him to solve a murder that occurred over fifty years ago and prevent history from repeating itself with the murder of Anne, Daria's look-alike granddaughter and McGinty's new waitress. Still, he couldn't explain the powerful connection he felt with Daria along with the desires triggered by his dreams of the dead woman. And he couldn't explain his eerie resemblance to Jimmy, Anne's grandfather who had been killed in the war. After Anne returned to Muncie, he had considered contacting her. There were so many unanswered questions. Reincarnation? Maybe. No. No, it was just a bizarre coincidence. He just happened to resemble a stranger who died before he was born. He had enough with dealing with preventing future disasters without a morbid curiosity about the past. Yet, something about this new dream was different. It was...
"Meow!"
"I'm coming. Hang on will ya!" Gary roared. A second later, he opened the door. Cat appeared to flash him an indignant look before hurrying into the loft. Gary bent over, picked up The Paper, and closed the door. A quick look at the date on The Paper, November 1st, reminded him that today was Halloween.
Oh Boy.
There was something about Halloween that seemed to bring out the nuts. He had been lucky to survive the last few Halloweens in one piece! Not that lunacy needed an excuse, but why did donning a costume seem to make people even crazier? He wondered.
But nothing would compare to the Halloween five years ago when he had to prevent the illness and death of unsuspecting trick or treating children from what he thought was poison candy, but turned out to be poison apples. At the same time, he had to deal with two women who claimed to be witches and assumed that he was the warlock that they needed for their spell.
Poison apples, witches, black cat, toads, spell pots...yep, it could have been something right out of some fractured fairy tale, only it ended up being just another day in the life of a guy who gets tomorrow's newspaper today!
And tonight, McGinty's would have its own Halloween celebration. It was Marissa's idea that the bar should host a Halloween affair. He grumbled at the suggestion, but knew that when Marissa set her mind on something, there was no way he was going to talk her out of it. Consequently, the employees would be busy all day transforming the bar.
Gary flipped through The Paper. Perhaps whoever sent The Paper was smiling upon him for the stories today weren't life shattering. He had a couple of slips and falls and a fight between two women in their mid-thirties at a Halloween party. He shook his head in disgust when he realized what the women were fighting over. It seemed that both women would show up in the same costume. Some angry words would be exchanged between the ladies followed by a few blows with the result that both women would end up in the hospital with minor injuries. Gary tried hard not to judge people, but he couldn't help it in this instance. Such a silly thing for adults to squabble over!
So began the hero's day. Gary was able to handle the first save without incident. However, as he prepared to leave the scene, he looked up from The Paper to see a young woman from across the street staring at him. His eyes locked with hers as shock and disbelief consumed him. The sapphire eyes. The dark hair. It was her! It was the woman from his dreams! In a daze, he started across the street only to be stopped by the stream of traffic and drivers who hurled profanities at him because of his carelessness. By the time he was able to make it safely across the street, she was gone.
He would see her a few more times throughout the day as he went about his saves. He even called out to her once. Yet, every time he attempted to reach her so that he could talk to her, she seemed to vanish.
The rest of the day proceeded in a blur. Thankfully, Gary was able to successfully complete all of his saves despite his mind being distracted over thoughts of this mystery woman. It was early evening when Gary returned to McGinty's. The bar was flooded with the sounds of music with the customary "scary" screams and other ghoulish noises to lend authenticity to the occasion. It looked like the "night of the living dead" with Frankenstein, along with some mummies and zombies mingling in the bar. There were also a few people dressed as cartoon characters like Wonder Woman and Batman. Some folks had elected a 1940s theme or had chosen to come as historical figures. A woman with a pompadour hairstyle and man in fedora hat and trousers held up by suspenders chatted with "Jacqueline Kennedy", "Abraham Lincoln", and "Joan of Arc."
Gary wanted no part of the gaiety. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Marissa, he told her that he was tired and that he was heading up to bed. She had let him off the hook, but he sensed that she realized that something was bothering him. He expected that tomorrow Marissa would probe him more about today's events. But not tonight. Tonight he would take a hot shower and go to bed.
As he climbed the stairs to his loft, Gary discovered clarity about what had happened today. The stress of The Paper had produced these strange dreams. And his subconscious had processed the dreams causing him to hallucinate. That was it. It made perfect sense. That was why the mystery woman from his dreams kept disappearing. She wasn't real. She was just a figment of his imagination.
Gary opened the door, turned on the lights, and entered the loft. Upon closing the door, he turned around to face the couch. He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. Sitting on the couch holding Cat was the mystery woman. Her long, raven hair and sapphire eyes sparkled.
Time ceased to matter.
He stood there, paralyzed. A second later, he managed to stammer, "wh-who are you?"
No answer.
Her eyes locked with his in a stare of recognition and familiarity. A cool breeze permeated the air. His heart was pounding. He felt something. Could she feel it, too?
With slow and deliberate steps, he walked towards her almost expecting the beautiful specter to vanish. But she didn't.
"Who are you?" He asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.
Finally, a name emerged from the lilting voice. "Elizabeth." She said.
The End.
Summary: A Halloween story with a different spin.
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to their creators. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made.
Author: Tracy Diane Miller E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
McGinty's Ghost
1798
Death had not waited to exhale; instead, it let out a cold and powerful breath that effectively strangled the early morning air. Still, the sun had not abandoned her. The rays illuminated her porcelain features. Amazingly, her sapphire eyes weren't hollowed by fear despite the grim predicament that awaited her. Those magnificent jewels radiated with the hope of Salvation in the Hereafter. Her long, raven hair that usually flowed majestically down her back today appeared as untamed and confused as a filly left alone to explore unfamiliar terrain. Poorly fed, unclean and corrupted by the dirt and stench of the cell that had been her home for the past few days, one might expect that her beauty and spirit would have been compromised as she walked that last mile of her life. They would be wrong. That her inner and outer beauty along with a quiet strength should surface even now surprised the crowd of onlookers who observed her. Death, hungry and impatient, would be pleased to receive so resplendent a soul.
Gnarled hands gripped her arm. Cold eyes peeked out from the wrinkled but expressionless face. He had been one of her most ardent accusers; yet, he had visited her in jail, begged her to confess her sins and ask for the Lord's forgiveness. He had insisted that he had prayed long and hard that her soul be spared the raging fires of Purgatory. She had said nothing during his discourse, but had instead silently cursed his hypocrisy.
Her gait was slow yet proud as she approached the masked executioner. This disciple of Death was cloaked in a black hood that completely concealed his head; only several small openings in the fabric accommodated his eyes, nose, and mouth. The alteration in the material allowed the man to gaze intently at the beautiful woman that he had been instructed to deliver into the hands of the Grim Reaper. A momentary pang of sorrow washed over him. She was too young to die. Then, remembering the "high" crimes that she had committed, he found solace in the performance of his duty. Undaunted, the man stood on the wooden scaffolding. His companion on the structure was a noose. Defiant, the rope refused to dance even as a strong gust of wind challenged its movement.
The scene was eerily reverent. The voices of the congregation that had roared in judgment of her now were muted in eager anticipation of her punishment. She had been given a choice. The only consideration afforded her was the method of execution. Burning or hanging. She had chosen hanging. If Death were so anxious to receive her, she would not prolong the inevitable.
As she walked the three stairs leading up to the platform, she said a silent prayer of thanks that her sisters had been able to escape. She also prayed that they weren't feeling guilty over the fact that she had been left behind. And she prayed for "him". What had happened to him? Was he all right?
She refused the hood that the executioner had offered her. She would not hide from her fate. Once the deed was done, she didn't want to have her lifeless body dangling with a hood over her head.
She looked out at the audience. So many people. Men and women; young and old. So many people who had surrendered the warmth of their beds to witness her execution. The children didn't seem afraid. They didn't appear to question what was about to happen. They just gazed at her, wide- eyed and silent.
The noose was placed around her neck. A second later, it was all over.
A cat had watched....
Chicago, October 31, 2003
He drank in her scent. He would never tire from exploring her body. He shivered from her touch. No woman had ever made him feel the way that she did.
The faint glow from the quickly burning candle on the small table captured the silhouette of the lovers. They were such a handsome couple. Both of them had hair as dark as coal. She could be focused one moment and impish the next. He was shy, yet mischief percolated below the surface of a quiet veneer. A boyish charm is what the ladies said he had. All of the young ladies had desired him, but it was she who had stolen his heart. The moment his mud green eyes feasted on her sapphire eyes he would swear that his heart had skipped a beat. And that he would love her forever.
She bathed his body with the sensuality of her kisses. Her long, dark mane teased at his bare chest.
Then it happened. Maybe she had expected it, but she had kept the gravity of the situation a secret. The door swung violently open. Two men, hostile and determined, had intruded upon the lovers. Mud green eyes became ablaze with anger. However, before he had a chance to reach for a weapon to protect her, a pistol was aimed at him. The men identified themselves as agents empowered by the law. They produced a document under seal claiming that it gave them the authority to arrest her for "high crimes".
One of the men grabbed her from the bed. Pistol or not, he would defend her. But it was she who begged him not to. She knew that they would kill him if he interfered. He wouldn't listen. As the men walked towards the door, the one man holding her arm tightly, he foolishly attempted a counterattack. His efforts were rewarded with a gunshot to the right shoulder. The bullet ripped through his flesh; blood erupted like lava through the wound. He...
Fell to the floor with a resounding thud!
"Meow."
Thump.
Disoriented, Gary's eyes flickered open. He pulled himself off of the floor and proceeded to the door all the while massaging his shoulder. It wasn't the first time that the intensity of a dream had jolted him so much that he ended up kissing the floor. But this dream...this nightmare... it had been a recurring theme for the last few nights. It seemed so real.
And it spooked him.
The last time that he remembered dreaming about a mystery woman was when he had plunged from that scaffolding attempting to save Justine's teddy bear. Of course, he learned later that the apparition haunting his subconscious was Daria and that somehow his dreams were connected with The Paper. The Paper had wanted him to solve a murder that occurred over fifty years ago and prevent history from repeating itself with the murder of Anne, Daria's look-alike granddaughter and McGinty's new waitress. Still, he couldn't explain the powerful connection he felt with Daria along with the desires triggered by his dreams of the dead woman. And he couldn't explain his eerie resemblance to Jimmy, Anne's grandfather who had been killed in the war. After Anne returned to Muncie, he had considered contacting her. There were so many unanswered questions. Reincarnation? Maybe. No. No, it was just a bizarre coincidence. He just happened to resemble a stranger who died before he was born. He had enough with dealing with preventing future disasters without a morbid curiosity about the past. Yet, something about this new dream was different. It was...
"Meow!"
"I'm coming. Hang on will ya!" Gary roared. A second later, he opened the door. Cat appeared to flash him an indignant look before hurrying into the loft. Gary bent over, picked up The Paper, and closed the door. A quick look at the date on The Paper, November 1st, reminded him that today was Halloween.
Oh Boy.
There was something about Halloween that seemed to bring out the nuts. He had been lucky to survive the last few Halloweens in one piece! Not that lunacy needed an excuse, but why did donning a costume seem to make people even crazier? He wondered.
But nothing would compare to the Halloween five years ago when he had to prevent the illness and death of unsuspecting trick or treating children from what he thought was poison candy, but turned out to be poison apples. At the same time, he had to deal with two women who claimed to be witches and assumed that he was the warlock that they needed for their spell.
Poison apples, witches, black cat, toads, spell pots...yep, it could have been something right out of some fractured fairy tale, only it ended up being just another day in the life of a guy who gets tomorrow's newspaper today!
And tonight, McGinty's would have its own Halloween celebration. It was Marissa's idea that the bar should host a Halloween affair. He grumbled at the suggestion, but knew that when Marissa set her mind on something, there was no way he was going to talk her out of it. Consequently, the employees would be busy all day transforming the bar.
Gary flipped through The Paper. Perhaps whoever sent The Paper was smiling upon him for the stories today weren't life shattering. He had a couple of slips and falls and a fight between two women in their mid-thirties at a Halloween party. He shook his head in disgust when he realized what the women were fighting over. It seemed that both women would show up in the same costume. Some angry words would be exchanged between the ladies followed by a few blows with the result that both women would end up in the hospital with minor injuries. Gary tried hard not to judge people, but he couldn't help it in this instance. Such a silly thing for adults to squabble over!
So began the hero's day. Gary was able to handle the first save without incident. However, as he prepared to leave the scene, he looked up from The Paper to see a young woman from across the street staring at him. His eyes locked with hers as shock and disbelief consumed him. The sapphire eyes. The dark hair. It was her! It was the woman from his dreams! In a daze, he started across the street only to be stopped by the stream of traffic and drivers who hurled profanities at him because of his carelessness. By the time he was able to make it safely across the street, she was gone.
He would see her a few more times throughout the day as he went about his saves. He even called out to her once. Yet, every time he attempted to reach her so that he could talk to her, she seemed to vanish.
The rest of the day proceeded in a blur. Thankfully, Gary was able to successfully complete all of his saves despite his mind being distracted over thoughts of this mystery woman. It was early evening when Gary returned to McGinty's. The bar was flooded with the sounds of music with the customary "scary" screams and other ghoulish noises to lend authenticity to the occasion. It looked like the "night of the living dead" with Frankenstein, along with some mummies and zombies mingling in the bar. There were also a few people dressed as cartoon characters like Wonder Woman and Batman. Some folks had elected a 1940s theme or had chosen to come as historical figures. A woman with a pompadour hairstyle and man in fedora hat and trousers held up by suspenders chatted with "Jacqueline Kennedy", "Abraham Lincoln", and "Joan of Arc."
Gary wanted no part of the gaiety. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Marissa, he told her that he was tired and that he was heading up to bed. She had let him off the hook, but he sensed that she realized that something was bothering him. He expected that tomorrow Marissa would probe him more about today's events. But not tonight. Tonight he would take a hot shower and go to bed.
As he climbed the stairs to his loft, Gary discovered clarity about what had happened today. The stress of The Paper had produced these strange dreams. And his subconscious had processed the dreams causing him to hallucinate. That was it. It made perfect sense. That was why the mystery woman from his dreams kept disappearing. She wasn't real. She was just a figment of his imagination.
Gary opened the door, turned on the lights, and entered the loft. Upon closing the door, he turned around to face the couch. He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. Sitting on the couch holding Cat was the mystery woman. Her long, raven hair and sapphire eyes sparkled.
Time ceased to matter.
He stood there, paralyzed. A second later, he managed to stammer, "wh-who are you?"
No answer.
Her eyes locked with his in a stare of recognition and familiarity. A cool breeze permeated the air. His heart was pounding. He felt something. Could she feel it, too?
With slow and deliberate steps, he walked towards her almost expecting the beautiful specter to vanish. But she didn't.
"Who are you?" He asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.
Finally, a name emerged from the lilting voice. "Elizabeth." She said.
The End.