Purgatory: Ghoul: Part One Read online

  Purgatory: Ghoul

  Part One

  Lon Varnadore

  Contents

  1. Part One

  About the Author

  Lon Varnadore

  *

  Published by Lon Varnadore at Smashwords

  Copyright 2016 Lon Varnadore

  Created with Vellum

  Part One

  Jason tried to work saliva into his dry throat. He felt his hands shake. The Southern California night was a bit warm. The crescent moon high in the sky. Why didn’t Helga come? Dammit. He looked around the empty field of Long Beach. In the distance was an oil derrick pumping away with a soft, mechanical drone. A keening broke out from his left in the field. Jason bolted towards the streetlight on Bellflower. The light was the only thing that could protect him, even for a moment.

  Behind him, he heard the thump-thump-thump of bare feet pounding. Jason’s heart hammered in his chest. Dammit, how did this happen? Fucking ghouls. He was twenty yards from the light, ten yards, five…

  “I’m going to eat you, Jason,” Thomas howled. “I’m going to eat you!”

  He felt something slam into him from behind. Jason and the thing pitched forward, into the pool of light from the lone streetlamp.

  The wretched thing loomed before Jason for a moment. A howl went up from the ghoul as it was burned by the light. Stooped shoulders with a jaw too long for its once-human skull were the first things Jason saw. The flesh was dark as though the thing’s skin had sucked up some of the tainted soul’s darkness. A ghost made flesh by evil. It ducked out from the pool of man-made light, the eyes glinting like an animal. “I’m going to eat you, Jason,” the ghoul said again. Thomas the ghoul waited outside the light, his jaws shutting with a clack that reverberated in Jason’s chest. Jason fumbled for the revolver in his pants pocket.

  “You think that will do anything to me?” Thomas asked.

  “Salt and iron usually works,” Jason said. He fired into the chest of the ghoul three times. Each round caused the creature to be driven back a step. For a moment, it looked like it worked.

  Thomas started to laugh. An inhuman, coughing laugh that made Jason’s blood run cold.

  “My turn,” Thomas said, his hands came up revealing long dirty claws that clicked together. The light of the street lamp started to flicker. Thomas grinned and started to clicking his claws faster, the sound grating in Jason’s ears.

  “What happened to you, Thomas?” Jason asked, the revolver hanging useless at his side.

  “I died.”

  “And the Order—”

  “The Order? What did they ever do for me?”

  Jason realized that the sounds of the clicking had intensified, chilling him more.

  “The Order… humanity itself is a disease,” Thomas continued. “We will destroy it.”

  “Who is ‘we’?”

  “Friends,” Thomas said, spreading his arms outward.

  Jason fired again and again, three more of his Order’s rounds. The salt-and-iron-infused bullets stopped Thomas for a moment, then the claws started to click again. The sound started to get louder and louder, and the light started to flicker more and more.

  “I’ll see you in Hell,” Jason said, pulling out a small dagger, getting ready to launch himself at Thomas.

  “Oh?”

  That was when the sound of clicking increased again. Jason took a look to his left and right. He saw two, then three, then five, and then ten pairs of eyes, all reflecting the light from the waning street lamp. “How man-”

  “We are many,” Thomas started. “For we are Legion,” the chorus rang out. The street light went out and Jason felt a claw rip into his leg. He swiped outward, but another claw gouged his exposed side. Then they were on top of him. The silver dagger he had was useless as the ghouls started to devour him, bit by fleshy bit.

  Cameron Hunt woke up and looked at the alarm clock. There was an odd tingling along his arms. He was still ten minutes ahead of the alarm. He looked around to see Michelle standing over him, and she smiled down at him. “Hey, glad you’re up.” Her dark brown mohawk was spiked up straight today, he noticed. There was also something about the look in her blue eyes. He didn’t like it.

  He let out a sigh. “Morning to you too.”

  “Morning,” she said, then stuck her tongue out.

  “Why’re you glad I’m up?” He looked at her and felt a bit of morning wood start to emerge. He forced himself to think about something else… anything else than her. That didn’t work. Finally, he started to do math in his head, and that did it.

  “Needed to talk to you,” she said, moving away from him.

  “About what?” he asked, sitting up in bed. He scratched at his hair, knowing it was a mess. “I still have ten minutes until I need to get up for school. Why did you wake me?”

  She sighed. “Told you, I needed to talk to you.”

  “About what?” Cameron asked, rolling his hand a few times to get her to continue.

  She walked backwards a few steps to jump up and sit the dresser. She sat between the two big piles of semi-clean clothes. “Look, I think we should go back to that house today. Skip school and just-”

  “No. I can’t miss more school, Michelle. You know that.”

  “Ugh, you and school.” She reached up and touched the spiky hair of her mohawk. It caused a slight tinkle of her ten bracelets on one arm. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” She gave him a wide smile.

  Cameron looked at her, “Why are you so keen to go?”

  She looked away for a moment. “Cause I want to help you help other spirits move on.”

  He looked at her. For two years, he’d known her. She’d never once wanted to go to any of the ghost sighting before. He had seen ghosts for years, since he was seven. He pushed the reason away why he could and instead focused on when he had first helped one cross over. Now he did it a few times a week, and never had Michelle wanted to go.

  “Why?” He asked.

  She grew more insubstantial for a breath. Cameron thought she was going to disappear for a time to sulk. Like she does all the time.

  “Why can’t you move on?” he asked, walking up to her, pulling out the top drawer of his dresser that passed through her legs.

  She let out a small grunt of pain. “Dammit Cameron, you know that fucking hurts!” She grabbed at her legs, and then leapt through the air to land on the bed. She moved and floated in a slow arc, her body growing more insubstantial to allow the movement. Cameron thought it was weird how ghosts could interact with some things yet could still go through other things. Michelle said it had to do with the mind of a ghost, but that didn’t make complete sense.

  “Then don’t sit there,” he said, pulling out a t-shirt and snapping it out. He smiled at the logo of the Kool-Aid man breaking through a wall. He was full of green liquid and had a tentacled face shouting “Hey Cthul-Aid.” He pulled it on and looked at Michelle. “What do you think?”

  She turned away from him. He could almost hear her eyes rolling.

  “Fine, be that way,” Cameron said. She’s gonna disappear again. He looked at her, seeing the furniture and the door through her, though it was hard. He thought about pulling open the shades to let in more light, which would allow him to see through her more. That didn’t hurt her, not like solid objects did, though she was a bit reluctant to be in the open sunlight when he wasn’t around. She said it made her feel “weird.”

  Instead she moved closer to him. “Can we please go?” Michelle asked, turning around and giving him her puppy-dog face.

  He sighed. He hated when she used it. It was weird, seeing a twenty-something ghost-girl begging him to do something. Though, she had been dead for almost twenty years,
she looked like she did when she died, about twenty. Michelle had explained that it had to do with ageing and death. “Just because you die doesn’t mean you stop ageing. Unless you move on.”

  “What is in it for you?” He asked. Something’s up.

  She gave a sigh, her hair no longer spiky and straight. When she was happy or angry, it spiked, when she wanted to be quiet and sullen, it sagged to one side or the other. It flopped to her right, and she looked down, not quite at Jason. “I… I want to help,” she said finally.

  He reached out and touched Michelle on the shoulder. Michelle was one of the few ghosts he could touch, if he concentrated hard enough. His contact made her look at him. “Is that all?” Michelle was a bit of a troublemaker, but he liked to have her around, and if she was going to help, then great. He just needed to make sure this was on the up and up. There had been that strange tingling when he woke up to her staring down at him. Something didn’t feel right about today.

  She avoided looking at him for a long moment. “I think that there might be someone else there, ok? Someone I might know.”

  “Was that so hard?” Cameron asked.

  “Yes,” she said, her hair rising up a little before flopping again.

  “I’m sorry, Michelle. Yeah, we can go. Just need to skip breakfast.”

  “Your sister is gonna hate that.”

  “She’s twelve, what is she going to do to me?”

  “How dare you try and leave without breakfast!” Stacey shouted, slapping the counter with the metal spatula. She glared up at him, all four-foot-three of her small frame. “You are not leaving here without something in your stomach.” She turned quickly to pick up the frying bacon with the spatula and sat it on a napkin-covered plate, adding to a growing mound already there. “Besides, you are wasting away.”

  “Stacey, I’m fine.” Cameron grabbed his sister by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. He kissed the top of her dirty-blond head. “I know; you think I’m wasting away. I’ll be ok. Here, I’ll take some bacon, ok?”

  “And?” She asked, a sniffle starting to come into her voice. She looked up at him with big brown eyes. “What else?”

  “I’ll throw some orange juice in the Thermos, ok?”

  She smiled and petted his arm. “Good boy,” she said with a smirk.

  There was a roar of laughter from his father, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table. “She has you trained well.”

  “She has you trained as well, Pop.”

  His father, Derek, didn’t say anything. He only stuck his tongue out, then grabbed at the pile of bacon that Stacey brought to the table. “But, I also do what I’m told.”

  Cameron shook his head as Stacey tried to bat her father’s hand away. “Wait until I get your coffee and your soy.”

  When she turned around, Derek made a disgusted face, and Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “Obey? Yes. Like it? No.” Derek said, looking at his son with a glare.

  Cameron filled his Thermos and headed out with Michelle. It was nothing to hide her, since no one saw her but Jason. He grabbed the keys to his Accord and said, “Be home for dinner.”

  “You better!” Stacey screamed at him as the door closed.

  Maggie ducked under the yellow tape of the police.

  “Ma’am, not—”

  Maggie stopped short. “Ma’am? I’m twenty-five!”

  “Alright, miss. You have to stay behind the-”

  Maggie rolled her eyes and flashed her wallet at him. The patrolman jerked back and allowed her through. Maggie smiled to herself. Have to thank Maurice for the perception paper. Worth more than its weight in gold. She didn’t want to rely on it too heavily though.

  The place was a mess. The body of Jason was gone, only the tape outline of his broken, torn body was left. Maggie bit back a tear. Fucking Thomas. How many does he have now? She pushed the thought aside as a woman in a CSI vest came up to her.

  “You’re gonna ruin the evidence here,” the CSI said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Please. He was torn apart. How hard for you to get forensics?” Maggie asked, gesturing around the scene.

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do,” Maggie said, moving closer. She looked up at the street lamp. What happened? How was the light not effective? “Any idea what is wrong with the street lamp?”

  “It shorted out? Don’t know, not many people come to this part of town. The streetlights aren’t exactly high on the priority list.”

  Maggie frowned, more to herself than the technicians. Then she saw a small pool of black that a tech was trying to collect. She moved closer to watch. The stuff was tough to get off the little spatula he was using.

  “Problems?” Maggie asked.

  “Talk to my supervisor,” the tech said. “I don’t talk to people.”

  Maggie knelt down next to the tech. The guy was focused on the task, couldn’t seem to get the stuff off. “You need to be a bit more careful with that. It could-”

  “Look lady, I’m doing my job. Fuck off.” The tech then just shoved the utensil into the baggie, stood up, and walked off.

  Maggie looked around, saw he was heading towards the woman with whom Maggie had spoken. They were both starting to walk over. Maggie hated the fact she didn’t have time to ground herself more. She held her hand over the black ichor, closed her eyes, and opened up her third eye.

  A confusing melange of images, smells, sounds, and thoughts assaulted her.

  Thomas, clicking his claws, and the light starting to die.

  Ten other ghouls, killing Jason. Then they devoured his very essence.

  The smell of death, of decay filled her nose, making her want to puke.

  The howl of the ghouls as they ate the last of Jason’s blood, each growing a little bit more substantial from it.

  Fuck, he has a full pack now. What the fuck are we going to do!

  “Lady, I don’t care what kind of crackerjack badge you have. But you need to the fuck out of my crime scene. Comprende?”

  Maggie stood up, a bit shaken from her vision. She looked at the woman tech supervisor. “Fine, I’ll go.” Maggie started to walk away, drawing her hands into her pockets. In her right hand, she held the small ball of ichor she had gathered thanks to the small bit of a gift she had been blessed with. She made the ball fall into a small vial and sealed it with her thumb and forefinger. Now to get this back to the Order to see what is going on.

  “Come on, let’s hit the house, please.”

  Cameron looked at Michelle. They were close to the neighborhood with the old house. “What about school?”

  “Come on, what is one more day off?”

  Cameron squinted at her. “What is your obsession with that place. It is-”

  “I just think that you can help that poltergeist is all,” Michelle said with a smile.

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

  He steered his beat-up Honda towards the broken-down house. It was a largish house, one that was always part of the neighborhood that no one really ever went to. Kids would dare each other to touch the doorbell, or the doorknocker, on Halloween, yet Cameron was always different. He knew what was in the house. He had talked to it once or twice.

  And the spirit was just lonely.

  But, the last time Cameron went to talk to the kid, he felt something darker there. Something was wrong. It was why he didn’t go and see the little poltergeist anymore.

  Michelle was right though. If he really tried, he could go and get that kid away from whatever malevolent energy was there. He stopped the car across the street, opened the door, and looked at the place. A thick gable at the apex of the roof loomed down at Cameron and Michelle. He held open the door for her. She thanked him with a thumbs up and, “Thanks, sweetie.”

  He watched her start to cross the street, knowing that he would look a little funny talking to someone that only he could see. He followed after her, trying not to stare at her butt in the tight jeans and the sway of her hips. Not li
ke he could actually do anything with her. Plus, there was age difference. He was seventeen, and she was thirty five.

  Enough, Cameron thought to himself. Let’s get this going.

  The front door was rusted shut, but he thought the back door would still have some give to it. He made sure no one was looking around before making his way to the rear entrance. The last time he hadn’t been as careful, and Mrs. Kowoliski had called the cops. Had it not been for pure luck, Cameron would have been in jail instead of getting back into the house.

  Now that he was here, he could feel that presence again. It was darker than before. He felt a cold hand press into his soul for a second. “I really don’t know about this, Michelle.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just feels off. You are telling me you don’t feel that?”

  “No,” Michelle said. “I’m not one of your kind anymore, Cameron. I’m just dead.”

  Cameron tried not to roll his eyes and kept walking after her. He did wonder if anyone else was like him. He had heard of people “speaking” to ghosts and spirits, yet he had tracked down two, and neither of them were real. Just fakers who would take money from those who wanted to talk to their dead loved ones. He felt sick thinking of trying to capitalize on his gift.

  Michelle waved her translucent hand in front of Cameron. “Earth to Cameron, you there?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” he said.

  “Well, come on, you know how I feel about going through shit.”

  Cameron sighed and looked at the door, wondering if it would be locked. He took the big doorknob, twisted it, and it pulled right open. There was a creak that made him wince, but then he quickly slipped inside with Michelle. She hissed a little when he closed the door too fast.

  “Sorry, don’t want to get seen.”

  “Don’t worry, I know,” she said, casually waving her hand. “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

  They started in the kitchen, pipes exposed and walls shredded where people broke in to steal the copper wiring inside. It smelled of mildew and decay.

  “All right, you know where he is?”

  “No. I’ll go check out the basement; you check the second floor,” Michelle said.