Grave Possession (Wraith 3)

by Lawson, Angel

  Apparently this was going to be a thing.

  We passed fountains and historic markers. Bars and churches. Nothing dead crossed our path and we didn’t stop this time, other than to cross streets and avoid pedestrians. I kept my eyes forward and not on the sweat soaking into his shirt or the way his calves were lean and tight. At the intersection near my dorm, he ran off without a goodbye.

  Okay, then.

  The same thing happened the following week, except I tripped over a dismantled brick in the sidewalk. Connor caught me before I face-planted.

  “Thanks,” I said, wiping my hands on my shorts.

  “No problem.”

  We continued running.

  On the third week, rain fell in sheets and I decided to give my student center gym card its inaugural swipe. The brand new facility had everything from weights to cardio machines, a basketball court and pool. After a few tries, I managed to figure out the treadmill and adjusted the levels for a five-mile run. K-thud. K-thud. K-thud. My feet fell into a loud, caveman-sounding rhythm. For some reason all five televisions hanging over the machines were locked on sports channels. No thanks. My eyes shifted to the weight area.

  Oh my.

  I’d never been one to ogle guys that much. Connor and Louis both had that skinny thing going on in high school. Connor’s height and looks had always made him noticeable, but I’d never obsessed over a guy’s body that much. But now? Maybe my hormones were raging or I was really, really bored, but I couldn’t stop stealthy observing the guys around the gym. Either something happened to boys when they left high school or something had happened to me. But man, the guys in the gym were a complete distraction.

  My feet pounded on the rotating belt, but I still heard the loud clink of the weights and the occasional grunt. I focused on a couple of guys in the back who were alternating between lifting weights and pull-ups. Their back muscles rippled beneath their shirts and, crap… see? Hormones. It had to be. I shifted my focus on the TV. Stock car racing should be interesting to learn about. At least the guy on ESPN seemed pretty stoked.

  The machine next to mine turned on, the panel of lights coming to life. I keep my eyes forward, well, occupied across the gym on a pair of taut shoulders. That is until I noticed the flash of a tattoo on my neighbor’s wrist. That same design hung on a medallion on my neck.

  “Hey,” Connor said, fidgeting with the buttons and flashing me an innocent grin. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I don’t expect to see you ever exercising, to be honest,” I shot back. Sweat dripped from his temples. “Why are you so sweaty?”

  “I’ve been working out over there with my roommate.” He pointed to the far corner of the gym that I’d been watching all morning.

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes at myself. Perfect. I’d spent half my workout unknowingly ogling my ex. Pathetic. He rested his hand on the support rail and I noticed the tell-tale black paint stains under his nails.

  “Tagging again?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your nails.”

  He lifted up his hand. “Yeah, I found a group to work with. There’s some cool spots around town. But then there’s one place near the beach, I’m doing this other thing – maybe I can show you some time.”

  “Maybe.” Was this his plan? Luring me in with normalcy? On my own ground? He would come out and jog with me, chat me up and ask me out? No way. No chance. I had Louis. I had self-preservation. I had secrets.

  I made a show of plugging my ears with my buds and turned up the loud beat of Louis’ band, Radioactive. I focused on my run. Not him.

  *

  “This is the perfect way to see your boyfriend after 10 weeks, right?” I said, showing off my costume to the girls.

  “I don’t really get this zombie thing,” Amber said from the doorway. She might not understand it, but she looks the part. Gnarly pieces of fake flesh hung off her face and a bloody oozing wound covered her neck. “I’m a little more into the slutty catsuit Halloween costume. Who the heck are you supposed to be, Jane?”

  “Zombie Frida Kahlo,” I said, tucking my hair into a bun. “I was going to wear this before I heard about the theme, so I improvised.”

  “We get into the haunted house for half price if we dress up for zombie night,” Ava said. She’s not a zombie but a hunter – some badass girl from “The Walking Dead.” “Where’s Kelsey?”

  Amber shrugged. “I haven’t seen her in days. If she’s coming home, it’s at night or when I’m at class.”

  “She must be back on with the boyfriend, then?”

  “Who knows? The girl is truly an enigma.”

  My phone buzzed on my bed. “It’s Louis,” I said, smiling despite myself that he’s finally here. I carefully picked it up, trying not to smear my makeup. “Hey, babe. You here?”

  “About that.”

  “About what?” I ducked out of the room and into the hallway for privacy.

  “We got a last minute call for a show tonight. A pretty big one for Halloween. We couldn’t pass it up.”

  “Oh, right. Okay.” My enthusiasm for the night evaporated. I’d only been willing to go to the haunted house because he would be with me.

  “It wasn’t even really my call. Group vote.”

  “No, I understand,” I sighed, kicking my toe against the wall. “I just miss you, you know?”

  “I miss you, too.

  When I re-enter the room and toss my phone onto the bed, Ava frowned and said, “What happened?”

  “Louis isn’t coming.”

  “That sucks,” she said. “I know you were looking forward to seeing him.”

  Amber studied me for a minute and then said, “I have just the solution.” She disappeared for a minute and then came back, a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a jug of juice in the other. “Girls’ night!”

  *

  From the outside, the haunted house wasn’t that impressive. The house was run by the Shriners and all proceeds went to charity. It wasn’t even a house, it was more like an office building the Shriners called their temple. Currently, the temple was overrun by hundreds of zombies.

  “So, we’re going to do this?” I asked, walking toward Amber and the group of boys she’d found the minute we got there. The alcohol made me less upset about Louis, but uneasy about the haunted house.

  Ava stopped in the street and said, “Are you afraid?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “You are! How are you afraid of a fake haunted house?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just too dark and there are those people who lurk around. They can’t touch you but you can’t see them and,” I shuddered, “I’ve got no control in a place like that and it just freaks me out a little.”

  “You can talk to real ghosts, including having one as a best friend, and fight off evil spirits, but this is scary?”

  “Yes.” I opened my mouth to explain but I couldn’t verbalize it. Ghosts made sense to me. Rotting faces and roaming undead triggered some sort of irrational panic.

  She rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand. “Well, get over it.”

  We joined Amber and the boys and got in line to pay admission. “Hey, Jane!” a zombie with dreadlocks called out.

  “Hi, Tony.”

  Chained up zombies met us at the front door and lunged and lurched in our direction. Amber shouted playfully but we’re shuttled through a narrow opening into a dark foyer. I bumped shoulders with the people around me and tried to keep a hand on Ava, but it was too crowded and too dark.

  “Jane,” Ava called. “You in here?”

  “Yes!”

  “Don’t be scared,” Tony said from beside me. He smiled through caked-on blood and guts. “It’s not that bad. Remember they can’t touch you.”

  I’d heard that before.

  Two guys dressed as prison guards directed us through the first hallway, listing rules of the zombie apocalypse. “The only rule you need to know is always aim for the brain. See you on the other side.”
>
  I stepped forward, following the people around me, my heart banging in my chest. Taking one final step toward the hallway, I looked over and saw a pair of familiar ice blue eyes staring at me. The crowd pushed from behind and I stumbled into complete darkness.

  Each room was composed like a nightmare, bloodied bodies, creepy clowns. Silent demons hid in every corner. I shrieked, bumping into those around me. No one cared. They were too busy freaking out themselves.

  After a moment, my goal became to get out of the house. That was all. I wanted out. With that mission in mind, I barreled through the crowd, pushing and wedging my way between the excited people.

  “Watch your hand,” I heard Amber say. In a brief flash of light, I saw the wicked grin on her face. She spoke to a guy in the shadows, lifting her eyebrow in encouragement. “Or don’t.”

  The room turned hot and stuffy and I can’t discern my friends from the goblins hired to staff the house. I spotted a hazy light ahead and narrowed my focus. The exit was that way.

  I left my group, chasing the light, until I came to a fork in the hallway. The faint blue light led me to the left. Eerie red smoke filtered from the right. I chose right, going after the fake dramatics.

  The crowd thinned, which made the air cooler, and I continued down the corridor. I passed a room with a row of fish tanks, zombie heads floating inside. Gross. A man with an eye patch sat in a recliner staring at the tanks. He moved and I screamed.

  “It’s from the TV show.”

  I spun and found zombie Connor standing behind me. His blue eyes unmistakable even under the guts and gore. I took a breath and said, “What?”

  “That guy with the eye patch is from ‘The Walking Dead.’ Totally weird.”

  “Yeah, weird.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “My friends and I came down – that girl Amber told us to come with you guys.”

  “Well, I’m trying to get out of here.”

  “I think you took a wrong turn.”

  “Then why are you down here?”

  “I was following him. I thought you were too.”

  “Him?” He pointed to an empty room and I saw who he was talking about. A man in what seemed to be a white doctor’s coat stood patiently amid a red fiery glow. “No, I wasn’t following him. This place creeps me out. I was looking for an exit.”

  “Well, want to find out what his problem is?”

  “Not really. Can we skip this one?”

  He frowned but seemed to consider it. We never walked away from someone needing our help. “Can we?”

  “I’m really freaking out, Connor. I hate this place.” I slipped my hand into his. “Can we just get out of here?”

  He glanced at the old man and then back at me. “Okay, I’ll come back. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

  Connor kept his grip tight and dragged me back into the crowd and through the reminder of the haunted house. The last couple of hallways seemed to be the worst – darker and scarier than the others. Claustrophobia took over and my heart pounded in my ears. One final zombie lunged at me and I buried my face in Connor’s arm like a big freaking chicken. By the time we got outside, I was hanging off his back.

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry,” I said, releasing him from my grip.

  “It’s okay,” he smiled. “It’s not often that you need someone – me. It felt kind of nice.”

  “What? I always needed you. Too much.”

  “Whatever,” he said with a laugh.

  I spotted Ava and waved. She shouted, “Oh my God, I thought you were gone!”

  “Just lost,” I said. Her eyes darted down to where Connor and I were still attached. I removed my hand from his. “Connor came to my rescue.”

  The group chattered excitedly about the horrors inside and, to my distress, Amber said, “Who wants to go in again?”

  “I’ll go,” Connor said, along with Tony. Ava wavered for a moment but saw the panic on my face.

  “Nah,” she said. “I’ll hang out here and practice my zombie kills.”

  The group filed back in line and Ava and I sat on the curb. “So, what’s scarier? Ghosts, zombies or hanging out with your ex-boyfriend?”

  “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  She wrapped her arm around me and said, “Only to me.”

  Chapter 10

  “Good run?” Ava asked. She sat on her bed amid a pile of papers and art books.

  “Pretty good.”

  “Did your running partner show up?”

  “Doesn’t he always?”

  I picked up my stuff to take a shower. The maintenance guy was back, sorting through this toolbox. This time I didn’t trip. “Watch your step,” he said, pointing to the water standing on the floor. The knees of his coveralls were wet.

  “It’s leaking again?” I asked.

  “Yep. It’s almost like someone’s messing with the bolts.”

  “That would be weird.”

  “I’ll be done soon.”

  “Okay.” I started to edge out of the room. “I’ll just come back later.”

  I heard a stifled sob from the bathroom stall.

  “All morning,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried to get her to come out but she won’t talk to me. Anyway, I’m hoping this will be the last time I’m up here.”

  I backed out of the bathroom and ran into Lila. She peered around me. “Oh, good. I was hoping Mr. Williams would get here today. That leak is turning into a pain in the ass.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Um, can I talk to you for a minute? I’ve been meaning to catch you when I had a second.”

  “Sure.”

  I followed Lila down to her room. She had a single since she was in charge of the residents. Inside, Lila gestured to the couch and I sat down, holding all of my shower things and feeling gross in my sweaty running clothes.

  “I’m not trying to tell on anyone or sound gossipy, but a couple of times I’ve been in the bathroom someone has been in one of the stalls crying. A lot.”

  Lila’s expression instantly turned concerned. “Do you know who?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ve never seen her. Just her feet, but I don’t recognize her shoes as being anyone in the dorm.”

  “Her feet? What about them?”

  “Well, she has black Converse low-tops, which isn’t such a big deal, but I also saw she has a flower or clover tattooed on her ankle.”

  Lila frowned and shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like any of our residents. Anything else?”

  “Dark hair,” I offered.

  “Nope. I guess next time either come get me or knock on the door and ask if she’s okay. I’ll ask at the next RA meeting. It’s possible she’s a friend or something. Maybe she’s just visiting the dorm?”

  “Maybe so,” I agreed. “Well, I just wanted to let you know.”

  “Thanks, Jane,” Lila said, when I’d reached the door. “You said she has a flower tattoo? On her ankle?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you sketch it?” Lila asked.

  “Um, probably.” I took the piece of scrap paper and pencil she offered me and did my best to replicate the tattoo. “Like that?”

  “Yeah, it may come in handy, you never know. Let me know if you see or hear anything else.”

  “I will,” I said. I turned and walked back to the bathroom, happy to see that Mr. Williams had cleaned up and left. I passed the sinks and mirrors, but paused just before turning the corner to the showers. Taking a step back, I frowned at the last mirror – fogged over with faint letters written across the surface.

  Gotcha

  “Hello?” I called, peering into the shower area. No one. Not a dripping faucet or wisp of steam. The other mirrors were clear and clean, reflecting harsh fluorescent lighting back into the tiled room.

  “Got who?” I asked the empty room. I saw nothing. Heard nothing. Felt nothing. No cool blast of air. No shimmery blue light.

  Using my towel, I wiped away the words. Something was
off, I just didn’t know what.

  *

  “You think your bathroom has a Moaning Myrtle?”

  Evan and I lay next to one another on my bed, shoulder to shoulder. Ava snored lightly with a pillow covering her head. I could see my body on a bean bag on the floor. My body. Me – asleep or something. The room had dark inky shadows around the edges tonight. Evan. though, was bathed in reddish light. Sometimes I thought maybe he tricked out the lighting here, like how he made ink turn into crows.

  I jabbed him with my elbow and said, “No. Well, yes. But a living Moaning Myrtle. Because there isn’t a ghost. There’s no ghost. Just some chick who won’t stop crying and leaves weirdo messages on the mirrors.”

  “What kind of messages?”

  “Once it was Bang Bang. And then, Gotcha.”

  “So, a practical joker?”

  “Suicidal freshman?” I shot back. “It’s just weird.”

  “Why don’t you just knock on the door and ask her what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Because it’s the bathroom, and people sort of want their privacy?”

  “Next time, knock.”

  “I will.” Evan wrapped his arm around me and I leaned into him. I loved being able to touch him here. That was different from before. Here, we were the same.

  I could comfort him the way he had always comforted me. The weight of his arm against my shoulders brought the rush I’d been looking for. Skin to skin was best way to transfer energy, but a hit was a hit.

  “You’re going home this weekend?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be busy but, hopefully, we can meet up.” I knew we would. I could barely go a day now without him. The shadows moved along the walls, creeping toward the windows and door. “What are those?”

  “I don’t know. Décor?”

  I snorted and covered my mouth. “You said décor.”

  “You’re such a geek.”

  “Whatever. But really, they’re not just part of the room – I can feel them. “Maybe it’s us. Our energy,” I declared.