“Yeah, yeah. Life or death. I get it.” Ethan tore his eyes away from the tiny screen. For a moment, he met Christian’s gaze. Stay or leave? There were no good options. If he ignored Christian’s threat, his life would be ruined. But if he gave in…well, he would be shackled to this stranger and forced to serve his whims. And what kind of life was that?
Without a word, Ethan jammed his hands into his pockets and walked away.
“Hey!” Christian strode up next to him. “Are you kidding? You’re leaving?”
Ethan flipped him off and kept on going.
Chapter Four
Ethan finally reached a shabby party store at the end of a mostly-deserted street. There were no public phones in sight, but the place sold burners. Thank God Ethan still had his wallet. After he bought the burner, he punched in David’s cell, praying that his boyfriend would pick up to an unfamiliar number.
“It’s me,” Ethan said the moment David answered. “I need a ride.”
“I should leave you stranded, like you did to me,” David growled.
“Listen! It wasn’t my fault.” Ethan eyed the clerk who was watching him from behind the bullet-proof glass. “I swear I’ll tell you everything when you come get me.”
Ethan waited a tense thirty minutes just outside the party store’s doors, praying that none of the shady characters coming in and out would bother him. Luckily, the only person who took notice was a bum looking for a smoke. All the others ignored him. When David finally pulled up, Ethan was never so happy to see anyone in his life.
“You got all the way out here…how?” David asked the moment Ethan got into the car.
“Just drive,” Ethan said, eager to put the night behind him.
“You have to call the police,” David said, the minute Ethan finished his story. They’d reached the parking lot of Ethan’s apartment and sat in the car with the engine running.
“And say what? Do you really think the cops will believe that I was kidnapped by another man and made to fight a ghost?” And if Christian had made good on his threat and uploaded the video into YouTube, Ethan’s notoriety would make him look like a fool.
“You can’t let him get away with it,” David argued.
“Not tonight, okay? All I want to do is eat something and go to bed.”
David grumbled something that sounded like ‘stubborn ass’ and followed Ethan up to his apartment. Ethan showered, wanting to rid himself of the smell of the abandoned school. When he got out of the bathroom, he discovered that David had made him two ham sandwiches and had opened a beer.
“It hasn’t been much of an anniversary, has it?” David said.
“Not really,” Ethan agreed. Ravenous, he wolfed down the sandwiches while David sipped his own beer. “Are you spending the night?”
“I don’t think you should be alone,” David said.
“I don’t think so, either,” Ethan said, coming over. He pulled David into his arms. “In fact, I thought of a pretty good way to spend the rest of our anniversary.”
David set his beer aside. He hooked his fingers through Ethan’s belt loops and drew him closer. “Do tell.”
Ethan kissed him, savoring the taste of David’s lips. He needed to forget this night and everything about it.
Ethan lay still and listened to David’s quiet breathing. He’d been lying in bed for nearly an hour and still couldn’t fall asleep. Too much had happened.
As quietly as he could, Ethan slipped from bed and threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie. He stole into the living room just as someone knocked on the front door. No doubt it was his neighbor Sam who frequently locked himself out of his apartment. Annoyed, Ethan yanked the door open only to find the hallway empty. At his feet was a Hello Kitty notebook. Written in all-capital letters on a Post-It note were the words: READ THIS.
Ethan recoiled from the cheerful notebook. He dashed to the window overlooking the parking lot and caught a glimpse of a large man in a black, leather jacket walking towards an SUV. Before Ethan could hope to catch him, he drove off.
Fuming at the invasion, Ethan returned to the front door where the notebook lay. He picked it up and flipped it open to the first page where someone had written the name Sophie in cursive. So this had belonged to the infamous Sophie. The girl with the sixth sense.
Curious, he took the journal into the living room and sat on the couch. Bracing himself, he flipped through the book. It wasn’t a diary with traditional entries and dates. Instead, it was a hyperactive mishmash of frenetic handwriting and jagged ink drawings. On the first page, Ethan discovered a cut-out picture of a baby doll with its eyes inked out. Written next to it were several words underlined in black marker. The dreams won’t stop…I see death every time I close my eyes.
Both horrified and fascinated, Ethan continued turning pages and reading entries. There was a photo of a dead dog in the middle of the road along with the words: Saw this today. Some of the ink had been blurred, as if Sophie had cried while writing.
The more Ethan dove into the book, the more his fascination grew. Sophie described her dreams in detail. Death is everywhere. Most of the bodies stare sightlessly at the sky. There’s a teenager in a blue dress lying on top of a guy in a jean jacket. It’s as if the guy is protecting her even in death. The December Massacre will happen if I don’t stop it.
The last two pages of the journal had been ripped out. The back cover contained an inked drawing of a large tombstone. On its face was the name Sophie Gladwell. Ethan’s heart ached to see it. He had no idea if Sophie had been psychic or not, but clearly, she’d been in pain. She was the kind of person he wanted to help once he finished school and became a therapist. If Christian hadn’t said that her death was an accident, Ethan would have suspected suicide.
“You’re still awake.” Wearing nothing but pajama pants, David leaned against the living room doorway. “And do I want to know why you’re reading a Hello Kitty notebook?”
“Probably not,” Ethan said, a little embarrassed.
David sat next to him on the couch and held out his hand. Ethan surrendered the notebook. David flipped it open to the picture of the baby doll with its eyes inked out. He pulled a face. He’d never done well with dark themes. Horror movies, Stephen King, even tragic news headlines…all of it was too much for his sunny personality. “Well, this certainly is - disturbing.” He glanced at Ethan. “Did you write it?”
“No.” Though Ethan’s moods tended to be glum, he was nowhere near Sophie’s level of despair. “It came from the guy who kidnapped me.”
“And you kept it?” David flipped to another page, saw a picture of an unwrapped mummy, and shut the notebook. “You shouldn’t be reading this. In fact, you should turn it over to the cops so they can find this guy and arrest him.”
“David - ”
“I know, I know. You don’t want to do that. Still, you shouldn’t be looking at whatever this is.” David went into the kitchen. Ethan followed and watched his boyfriend drop the notebook into the trash.
David wrapped his arms around Ethan and laid his head on Ethan’s shoulder. “You’re too much in your head sometimes, you know that?” He combed his fingers through Ethan’s sandy hair. “All those dark thoughts are going to eat you alive.”
“That’s why I have you.” David was the one thing in life guaranteed to make Ethan smile.
“Good point. In fact…” David pulled away. “What time is it?”
Ethan glanced at the clock above the stove. “One o’clock.”
David’s eyes sparkled. “No, what time is it?” He grinned.
Ethan groaned. “No. Not this late at night.”
Ignoring him, David dashed back into the living room and returned with his hands held behind his back. “Pick one.”
“David, I’ve got class tomorrow, and you’ve got work.”
David shook head. “You’re not sleeping anyway, and you’re as dour as a monk. C’mon, let’s have a little rom com time. Pick one.”
Knowing his b
oyfriend would never give in, Ethan chose David’s right arm. David held out a DVD of Never Been Kissed. “Drew Barrymore it is!”
As they nestled together on the couch and watched the movie, Ethan thanked his lucky stars for his boyfriend. David had always known the exact, right moment to lighten the mood.
At some point in the movie, they both fell asleep. Ethan woke just enough to stop the DVD and tug on David’s hand to lead him to bed. He spooned up next to David, wrapping his arms around David’s waist and pulling him closer than normal.
David kept his eyes shut, but he offered a sleepy smile. “Mmmm. Feels good.” A moment later, he was back to sleep. Ethan closed his eyes and drifted off as well.
Chapter Five
Ethan wasn’t sure what made him rescue the Hello Kitty notebook from the garbage can and tuck it into his book bag, but he did. All night, he’d dreamed of its haunting pictures and frightening words. Now, as he trudged across campus to his class, he couldn’t shake the heavy feeling it gave him. Had Christian been telling the truth? Had Sophie truly talked to the dead? Or had she simply been a desperate soul in need of a good therapist and a prescription for Zoloft?
Ethan wanted to turn his back on the whole mess, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. Sitting in class, he ignored the lecture and instead slid the notebook out of his bag to re-read the pages. At least Christian believes me, Sophie had written. No one else understands that the deaths I see are real!
The guy sitting next to Ethan leaned over and nodded at the notebook. “Nice art. It’s messed up, but really well drawn. Did you do that?”
Ethan shook his head.
“I always notice things like that,” his neighbor confessed. He held out his arms which were covered with a colorful tattoo of a skull with roses blooming from its eye sockets. “I’m a tattoo artist,” he said. “I’ve drawn a lot of things for people. Never seen anything like what you have, though.”
Embarrassed, Ethan quickly shut the notebook. “It’s my cousin’s,” he mumbled.
“That person needs some help,” his neighbor said, shaking his head.
Ethan agreed. Although, Sophie was far beyond any help he could offer.
Class finally ended, and Ethan hurried from the room without stopping to chat with his classmates as he usually did. As he was racing towards the bus stop, someone called his name. Turning, he saw Christian’s black SUV.
Seething, Ethan strode over to where Christian sat behind the wheel, leaning out of the open window. “Are you following me now?”
Christian shrugged off the question. “Did you read the notebook?”
“I did,” Ethan admitted.
“And?”
“And your friend was seriously disturbed.” Ethan unzipped his bag, grabbed the notebook, and handed it back to Christian. “I’m sorry she didn’t get the help she needed before she died.”
“I am, too,” Christian said.
An icy rain had started up, and freezing pellets were hitting the back of Ethan’s neck. He should have taken his car today. Either that, or worn a warmer coat. The walk home from the bus stop was going to be miserable. He turned up the collar of his jacket.
“Need a ride?” Christian asked.
“No thanks,” Ethan said, walking away.
“I promise to take you straight home. No detours.”
Ethan extended his middle finger and kept walking.
“Let me at least show you one more thing,” Christian called to him. “It will only take a second.” He hurried from his vehicle and followed Ethan over to the bus stop where a few other students were waiting. Ethan glared at Christian, daring him to come closer. Christian, however, ignored the warning. Instead, he thrust his phone at him. “Watch this. It will take you two minutes.”
Ethan hesitated, but in the end, curiosity won out, and he grabbed the phone and pressed ‘play’ on the screen. Sitting there was the same young woman he’d seen in the picture the night before. She faced the camera, her eyes wide and frightened and her face pale. “I had another dream last night.” She barely spoke above a whisper. “Five people drowned in a boating accident.” She hesitated and licked her lips.
“Go ahead,” urged the person holding the camera. Christian. It had to be.
Sophie held up a newspaper and pointed to the date. “It’s July 6,” she said. The video stopped. Ethan glanced at the date it had been made. Sure enough, it was July 6.
He handed the camera back to Christian. “So?”
“So, look what happened on July 9.” Christian made a few swipes on his screen and brought up a news article from that summer. The headlines said that five people had drowned on a boat when a storm overcame them on Lake Michigan.
A trail of ice ran down Ethan’s spine. “You’re telling me she knew?” He kept his voice low, hoping no one else at the bus stop was paying attention.
“Down to the name of the boat,” Christian said. He tucked his phone into his pocket. “I’m telling you, she had visions. Visions that always came true.”
Ethan didn’t want to believe it, but he knew better than anyone that the supernatural was real. “What does this have to do with me?”
“A few months ago, Sophie predicted a major event on the horizon. Something she called the December massacre. At least a dozen people will die if we don’t stop it.”
“We?”
“I can’t do this without you.” Christian met Ethan’s hostile gaze with a pleading one.
Ethan had the feeling that Christian didn’t beg very often, if at all. “What do you want me to do?”
Christian let out a sigh and smiled. “It shouldn’t be hard. Not for you, anyway. I want you to contact Sophie’s spirit. Now that she’s dead, I’m hoping she has more insight into this thing.” When Ethan hesitated, Christian said, “I’m asking for an hour. That’s it. You contact her spirit and get the information. That’s all.”
Ethan thought about the anguished writing in the notebook, and the tormented, young woman who’d written it. He couldn’t turn her down. Even if Christian had kidnapped him. “Let’s go.”
Christian pulled into a parking lot alongside a grassy field. “This is where it happened.” He hadn’t said a word throughout the entire ride. Now, he spoke with the kind of solemnity usually reserved for eulogies.
“Tell me,” Ethan said. As much as he dreaded the answer, he had to know what he was up against.
“Sophie and I had an appointment to meet someone. The moment we found him, things fell apart.”
There were a lot of subtext hidden in those two sentences; Ethan could feel it. He was determined to know the entire story, even if he had to drag it from Christian bit by bit. “Who were you meeting?”
Christian sighed. “Can I trust you?”
“I should be the one asking that question,” Ethan said.
“True.”
“So?”
“He calls himself the Reaper.”
Ethan’s stomach tightened. He had figured that whatever waited for him wasn’t going to be pleasant, but Christian’s grim expression told him that things were even worse than he’d imagined. “Go on.”
“Sophie and I believe he’s a serial killer.”
Ethan nearly choked on his tongue. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t this. “You brought me out here to help you catch a serial killer?”
“He’s not here now,” Christian quickly assured him. “And I’ll be here to protect you even if he is.”
“That didn’t help Sophie.”
Christian tensed his jaw and glared out the windshield. “I know.”
Ethan knew he’d hit a nerve, but he also wasn’t sure how much he trusted this man. “Tell me everything.”
Christian pointed out of the window at a large tree in the corner of the field. “There was a carnival going on at the time. The Reaper told us to meet him there. He didn’t know who we were, only that we were bringing him supplies so he could carry on his work.”
“You were bringing him guns
?” Ethan asked, horrified.
“We were pretending to bring him a gun,” Christian corrected.
Unbelievable. All of Ethan’s instincts were telling him to run away and not look back. Yet he sat where he was, wondering how this tale would end.
“Anyway,” Christian continued, “I told Sophie to wait for me while I went to the meeting place, but the Reaper wasn’t there. That’s when things went crazy. One of the rides broke and crushed Sophie.” Christian shrugged, unable to finish his story.
“So you want me to help you find this Reaper?” Ethan asked.
“No, I want you to channel Sophie’s spirit,” Christian said. “When you do, find out what she saw. If she saw the Reaper, I need to know what he looks like, so that I can find him.”
And what then, Ethan wondered. Christian’s hands loosely gripped the steering wheel as he gazed across the empty field. He didn’t look like a man with a vendetta, but how could Ethan be sure? “You haven’t told the police about this?”
Christian snorted a laugh. “And say what? That my friend had a vision?” He flicked his eyes towards Ethan. “How did the police react when you told them you saw a little, dead girl named Kennedy Ladd?”
The question brought back an unpleasant memory of being questioned for three hours in a small room by a pair of police officers. At the time, Ethan had worried about being arrested for nothing more than channeling a ghost. “I know that, but…”
“But nothing,” Christian said. “Until I have real proof about the Reaper, I’m not telling the authorities. I don’t need to look like a crank.”
“And when you have proof?” Ethan asked.
“Then I’ll figure out what to do,” Christian said. He turned off the engine and flipped a switch, unlocking the doors. “You doing this, or not?”
What choice did he have? Knowing that the massacre was on the horizon, he couldn’t walk away now. “Let’s go.” He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
The icy rain had abated, but the air carried the raw edge of winter. The place smelled of wet leaves, but underneath, Ethan caught a whiff of popcorn and frying food. The sound of raucous midway music played faintly. It was as if the carnival had left its own ghost. Ethan’s hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, and he clenched them into fists, steeling himself for what lay ahead.
Deadly Spirits Page 3