Page 34 of Ghosted

Next up is the only cemetery in this town. That is where my Lucien and father were laid to rest, so I surely will be with them, right? That’s the place I belong, with both of the men who mattered in my life. The man I loved and the one that raised me.

Lucien’s grave is one I know well and I go there first. I visited it as often as I could once the flames took my life and I could be with him once again. If he wasn’t living anymore, I didn’t want to be, either. The asylum thought that they could cage me into the body I no longer needed. But they were wrong, I wasn’t the only one to go to the afterlife when I left. I took two of those motherfuckers with me. That thought brings a smile to my lips.

If I was going to Hell, I’d at least take a few people with me, but I never made it to Hell. Unless Hell on Earth was the true place for tortured souls. I was told there would be fire and brimstone and I got none of that, what lies we were told growing up…

I continue my search and outrage bubbles up when I come up with nothing. Again. No decorative headstone or even a simple marker with my name. There isn’t even a pull to the unnamed graves. How are there so many markers here and yet my body isn’t under a single one? Those assholes at the asylum fucked this up?

Then, it dawned on me. The Asylum. How could I be so stupid not to go there first? That has to be where my body is. I groan at the thought, realizing that it’s on the other side of town. I want to get this over with and continue the plotting of Iris’s death once again. Not this irritating task. I’m not sure if salting and burning my bones will do as they hope but I can’t leave it to chance.

On my way to the last place I was alive, I pay attention to the few living things that are out and about this time of night. I’m hoping to find my first test subject, but none of these bodies are worthy of me. I have no intention of inhabiting a whore or drunk and those are the only ones I come across on my little trek. The living have really gone downhill since I walked the earth, they were never like this before, at least not here, it’s disgusting really.

My eyes fall upon my last home away from home. The hate I feel for the asylum is almost the same level I hold for Iris. But I have to push that aside and find my body.

Once I had talked a nurse into walking me around the grounds. I only did it to take stock and find a hole in their system to escape, but they were pretty solid. The only thing of note was the little patch in the back that is overgrown. Could that be where they buried me? Just before I move behind the old building that’s long since been abandoned, I hear a whistle.

Standing out in the open and primed for my taking is a security guard strolling the grounds. Yes, he will be the best subject to test out the possession on. Unsuspecting and far away from prying eyes. We are out in the middle of nowhere, not a soul will hear him if he screams.

I float up behind him, pausing for a moment before I dive in. It’s an odd sensation, almost as if I can feel something tingling along my transparent form, as I explore this man’s insides. I will myself to go for the brain, knowing I need to take full control. Tormenting him will only make him fight.

He fights for control, but just as I suspect, he’s weak minded and I snuff out his fight easily. He’s a distant memory in the back of my mind as we stroll over to the makeshift cemetery. I find what I’m looking for in the back corner, a rock with the name S. Walker. There I am, now it’s time to hunt for something to dig up my bones.

Good try, Iris, I’ll outsmart you at every turn.

Raven

“You bought her flowers?” Jayce asks incredulously as we walk into the cemetery. I rushed off the moment I spotted the flower shop across the street. We needed to play the part flawlessly and what better way to blend into a cemetery in broad daylight than bringing fresh flowers to the grave. Honestly, we’ll be lucky to read the grave after this many years.

“Don’t worry.” I grin. “I did my flower research. Orange lilies really mean ‘I hate you’ or as I like to think, ‘fuck you, you crazy, murderous wench.’”

Jayce and Eli both laugh as I proudly hold up the gaudy, orange bouquet. I’ve never considered disrespecting a grave before, but we have to go all in on this or one of us might die.

We fall quiet as we wind our way through the path

“Do you think she’s stronger here?” Jayce asks quietly as we wind through the paths to the older section. They kept up with it, but from the fading headstones and lack of flowers, it was clear that no one visits these particular graves any more.

“Yes, the place the body lies is where they are at their peak power. We need to be careful not to tip off Stella. If she figures it out, we may be in trouble,” I say. “Hell, at this point we have to just assume she’s waiting around every fucking corner. I don’t know how the bitch has this much power, but it’s insane.”

“There is no way the psycho will know we are here. That is unless Lucien’s ass shows up. He is like a magnet for that crazy ghost,” Eli points out.

“Eli’s right, let’s make this a fast in and out,” Jayce pipes in. “It’s just recon anyway, right?”

“And it’s daytime, we hurry and find what we need, then leave. No big deal,” I reassure them as much as myself.

Jayce takes a deep breath and points to the opposite end of the cemetery. “Right, she should be in the older part of the cemetery. It's located in the northwest corner. I did a little research before we left.”

“You, Jayce? Never.”

My words get a laugh from Eli, just what I was hoping for. He’s looking more and more tense as we walk and I don’t want us freaking out prematurely.

“Lead the way,” I say, motioning for him to go in front of us.

Jayce swallows hard and puffs out his chest before stalking that way. I’m short and end up having to practically jog to keep up with him now that he’s on a mission.

“Hey, did you not see the sign?” The booming voice has us all freezing and looking over. An angry-looking man is stalking forward. His overalls are covered in dirt and his face pinched in frustration. “I swear no one respects the dead!”

“I’m sorry, we didn’t—” I try but he cuts me off.

“The sign was neon orange,” he deadpans. “You need to leave now. You’re trespassing, we’re closed, until tomorrow, for a funeral.”

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