CHAPTER 3 - Left Behind.
All she could think of was her husband and children. All day, all night and all the time. She wanted nothing more then the opportunity to see them once more, just for a second. She sent Arthur dreams, pleading for him to return just one more time. It was safe now, for the most part, but she knew that soon, He would return and trap them once more. Cyrus. The name gave her the shivers and no matter how hard she tried, his voice still haunted her thoughts. Jean knew about the loophole though, ever since the Prince pried that God-forsaken book out of Kalina's cold fingers, she had studied the pages and became aware of every detail of the Arcanum. She knew that once Cyrus crossed over and recovered from the Denial Period, she, and the others would have five minutes to leave the property and get as far away from the house as possible before He returned and they would be trapped forever and dragged down to Hell. But, once Jean crossed over, you'd never see her family again until they died, and even then, there were no guarantees. Death was a bitch like that.
Being the primary maternal figure, most of the younger spirits had attached themselves to her. Jean often tried in vain to loosen the horrible bonds as Susan cried and shook uncontrollably. She often tried to stop Dana's bleeding, and Billy's headaches. Even though he was much more reserved and independent than his supernatural comrades, Royce too had often found some glimmer of hope in the words of The Withered Lover. Maybe because she was the only one who didn't poke fun at his irregular speech pattern and had the slightest clue what he was taking about when the others could only giggle or make some sort of cynical comment. As a result, he remained mute for days at a time, brooding in the basement next to the remains of his once prized "Screamer." (As he so delicately put it.)
The ghosts had often asked Royce about his past, how he died. He would shrug his shoulders and reply, "I went flat out and stacked up my screamer." No one asked many questions after that.
~*~
Arthur shifted gears and sped down the freeway as fast as he could without putting himself or other motorists in danger. He was still recovering from the dream when he grabbed his car keys and sped off in the night towards Willow Grove. The dream, which was somewhere between that and a nightmare, had been haunting his sleep for the past six weeks or so.
He was standing at his wife's grave looking down at her coffin. The lullaby she used to sing to their children was playing softly in the wind and a light rain was falling. Arthur could hear his wife calling out to him from within the coffin and begging him to come to her. He would hop into the grave and open the lid, exposing, not Jean, but the maggot filled remains of her corpse. Her skull, with the rotting flesh and clumps of hair would turn to look at him, the jaws snapping open and closed as she sang the lullaby. Arthur would try too leave but the skeletons hands would pull him into the coffin and onto the rotten body. And then, Arthur would wake up, sweating like a pig and shaking like a leaf. The same dream happened every night from then on, and he couldn't change it no matter what he did or how hard he tried. The coffin lid would snap closed and he would wake up.
He signaled and turned onto Route 15. He had been driving all night and now it was late afternoon, though it wouldn't be much farther now. Arthur squinted against the sun.
"What the hell is that?" He thought. "Oh shit." Pulled off to the side of the road were two vehicles and a group of teenagers. One of the girls waved him down. Arthur didn't stop, he couldn't. He needed to get to Jean and didn't have time to deal with people. If they were still here when he drove back, he would stop and help, but for now, he had other things to do.
~*~
Mallory waved at the oncoming seemingly speeding car but to no avail. The driver gave her a quick look but didn't even slow down. He drove right past her billowing up dust clouds as he passed. Broadway cursed loudly as she searched through her truck for the spare gas canister.
"Well, would you look at that? The nerve!" Mallory leaned against the side of her car as Broadway produced the red container from under some other supplies.
"I TOLD you to fill up at the service station, but nooooOOOoOOo!" She emptied the contents of the gas can into the Malibu and chucked it back into her truck. Mallory sighed.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, and I meant to, but we left in such an excited hurry that the thought must have slipped my mind." She looked at the car in the distance and frowned. "I wonder why HE was in such a hurry?"
"Maybe he was heading home to catch his wife in bed with another guy?" Seth offered. Zeke rolled his eyes.
"Yeah man, that must be it." In the distance, the car turned off the road and disappeared. "Come on lets get going. This little pit stop is done and over with."
~*~
All she could think of was her husband and children. All day, all night and all the time. She wanted nothing more then the opportunity to see them once more, just for a second. She sent Arthur dreams, pleading for him to return just one more time. It was safe now, for the most part, but she knew that soon, He would return and trap them once more. Cyrus. The name gave her the shivers and no matter how hard she tried, his voice still haunted her thoughts. Jean knew about the loophole though, ever since the Prince pried that God-forsaken book out of Kalina's cold fingers, she had studied the pages and became aware of every detail of the Arcanum. She knew that once Cyrus crossed over and recovered from the Denial Period, she, and the others would have five minutes to leave the property and get as far away from the house as possible before He returned and they would be trapped forever and dragged down to Hell. But, once Jean crossed over, you'd never see her family again until they died, and even then, there were no guarantees. Death was a bitch like that.
Being the primary maternal figure, most of the younger spirits had attached themselves to her. Jean often tried in vain to loosen the horrible bonds as Susan cried and shook uncontrollably. She often tried to stop Dana's bleeding, and Billy's headaches. Even though he was much more reserved and independent than his supernatural comrades, Royce too had often found some glimmer of hope in the words of The Withered Lover. Maybe because she was the only one who didn't poke fun at his irregular speech pattern and had the slightest clue what he was taking about when the others could only giggle or make some sort of cynical comment. As a result, he remained mute for days at a time, brooding in the basement next to the remains of his once prized "Screamer." (As he so delicately put it.)
The ghosts had often asked Royce about his past, how he died. He would shrug his shoulders and reply, "I went flat out and stacked up my screamer." No one asked many questions after that.
~*~
Arthur shifted gears and sped down the freeway as fast as he could without putting himself or other motorists in danger. He was still recovering from the dream when he grabbed his car keys and sped off in the night towards Willow Grove. The dream, which was somewhere between that and a nightmare, had been haunting his sleep for the past six weeks or so.
He was standing at his wife's grave looking down at her coffin. The lullaby she used to sing to their children was playing softly in the wind and a light rain was falling. Arthur could hear his wife calling out to him from within the coffin and begging him to come to her. He would hop into the grave and open the lid, exposing, not Jean, but the maggot filled remains of her corpse. Her skull, with the rotting flesh and clumps of hair would turn to look at him, the jaws snapping open and closed as she sang the lullaby. Arthur would try too leave but the skeletons hands would pull him into the coffin and onto the rotten body. And then, Arthur would wake up, sweating like a pig and shaking like a leaf. The same dream happened every night from then on, and he couldn't change it no matter what he did or how hard he tried. The coffin lid would snap closed and he would wake up.
He signaled and turned onto Route 15. He had been driving all night and now it was late afternoon, though it wouldn't be much farther now. Arthur squinted against the sun.
"What the hell is that?" He thought. "Oh shit." Pulled off to the side of the road were two vehicles and a group of teenagers. One of the girls waved him down. Arthur didn't stop, he couldn't. He needed to get to Jean and didn't have time to deal with people. If they were still here when he drove back, he would stop and help, but for now, he had other things to do.
~*~
Mallory waved at the oncoming seemingly speeding car but to no avail. The driver gave her a quick look but didn't even slow down. He drove right past her billowing up dust clouds as he passed. Broadway cursed loudly as she searched through her truck for the spare gas canister.
"Well, would you look at that? The nerve!" Mallory leaned against the side of her car as Broadway produced the red container from under some other supplies.
"I TOLD you to fill up at the service station, but nooooOOOoOOo!" She emptied the contents of the gas can into the Malibu and chucked it back into her truck. Mallory sighed.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, and I meant to, but we left in such an excited hurry that the thought must have slipped my mind." She looked at the car in the distance and frowned. "I wonder why HE was in such a hurry?"
"Maybe he was heading home to catch his wife in bed with another guy?" Seth offered. Zeke rolled his eyes.
"Yeah man, that must be it." In the distance, the car turned off the road and disappeared. "Come on lets get going. This little pit stop is done and over with."
~*~