She dragged me right past my cavern and, to my horror, began descending deeper and deeper through the levels, sinking through the floors with such speed that I had no hope of counting how many we were passing. She dragged me with her through thick stone floors and ceilings until finally we arrived in another vast chamber. It was lightless and completely bare, except for rows of coffins—not white like the fae’s, but black—lining the walls.
Horror rushed through me. I already knew what was going to happen next. The ghoul reached one of the coffins, flipped open the lid, and proceeded to wrestle me inside. Before I could even attempt to zoom back out, she had slammed the lid shut over me. There was a click and a dull thud—the sound of metal wedging into wood. Scrambling up on all fours, I tried with all the willpower I possessed to try to pass through the walls of the coffin, but I already knew before even attempting it that I would be unsuccessful. This was a box just like the fae’s. A box just like Julie’s.
Gnarled hands shot down through the lid and clamped around my head. Sharp fingernails dug into me, holding me so firmly it felt like I’d been strapped into a helmet.
A pain seared my head. Pain unlike any I’d ever experienced. Pain that I hadn’t even thought possible for a ghost to experience. And then I lost my vision. At least, my exterior vision. A blur of colors washed over my mind’s eye, which slowly gave way to a vision so crisp and detailed, I struggled to believe it wasn’t real. Consciousness of my whereabouts ebbed away, and soon even the feeling of the ghoul’s hands digging into my head faded. The vision before my eyes became my complete reality, a vision which began to mutate into a string of visions, morphing into a nightmare I wouldn’t have wished upon my worst enemy.
* * *
I thought the visions would never end. I thought the pain would never stop. There was no escape, none at all. How could there be when it was real? The world in which I’d grown up—in which there had been peace, happiness, family, love—vanished from my memory, and was replaced with a gaping black hole.
Then, after my heart and mind had been slashed to a pulp by slew upon slew of torturous scenes, the visions began to blur and bleed into one another. I became slowly aware of the pain in my head again… and then of firm walls surrounding me. Even still, I couldn’t open my eyes, and my mind remained trapped in the darkness. I couldn’t shake the belief that everything I’d witnessed had happened. I’d seen it. I’d been there. The experiences were actually palpable—a hundred times more palpable than the dream I’d believed to be my real life…
My mother, father and sister, stripped to their underwear and strapped to wooden stakes, as hordes of horned goblins danced around them, cackling a hair-raising chant. A fire roared beneath them even as my father—a man I’d only ever seen as strong and heroic—diminished to a hapless victim, screaming for mercy. His and my family’s anguished cries pierced the night as the flames touched their feet. Flames that rose with terrifying speed, higher and higher until the fire had swallowed them alive.
Then… River. Sitting in a damp, moldy dungeon, wearing a tattered old nightgown that bulged with her protruding stomach. She was pregnant. Jeramiah materialized from the shadows and arrived next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder before stooping low to press a lingering kiss against her cheek. He grasped her hand, upon which lay a silver ring—a ring that matched the one upon his own hand. As he kissed her again, this time claiming her lips, her eyes fixed on mine, gazing up at me hopelessly. “You should’ve come back, Ben,” she breathed as my cousin drew away. “You should have come back…”
No! I can’t take this!
I can’t bear it anymore! I screamed in my head.
Forcing my eyes open with willpower I’d believed I no longer even possessed, I realized I was crouched over on all fours, my head buried beneath my chest. Hands no longer clutched me. When I slowly raised my head upward, it was to see that the lid of the coffin was open, and staring down through it was the grinning female ghoul. Her smile broadened, revealing layers of pointed teeth.
I wanted to bolt away, away from this box, away from this creature, but I found no strength in me to move. I hadn’t even known that a ghost could lose strength. Weren’t they already dead, after all?
The ghoul reached down and gripped my arms, pulling me up toward her. As much as I loathed her touch, I felt so weak in that moment, I wasn’t sure how else I would’ve gotten out of that box. It was a struggle just to raise my hand. My mind still replaying the nightmare over and over again, I could barely concentrate on where she was leading me. But it was out of this chamber of coffins, and then upward. This came as a surprise to me; I’d half expected to be dragged downward as a punishment. Assuming her subtle, translucent form while still maintaining a strong hold on me, she sped up, and by the time she’d stopped, we were hovering at the edge of my pond.
Her grip on my shoulders loosened, her hands sliding down to my wrists. Her mouth parted and a thin—and shockingly long—tongue darted out, touching my cheek and licking it in a long upward motion, before slithering back between her flaking lips. Even in my daze, I couldn’t help but be grossed out. Ugh. She grinned more mirthfully than ever and then, with one strong thrust, pushed me back into the pool. Sinking underwater, I drifted down, down, to the bottom of the pool, unable to find the strength to even move myself upward.
“Joseph,” Nolan called to me. “What happened to you?”
His blurry outline arrived at my side along with Chantel, and then the form of Marcilla approached, hovering near my feet. I lay on my back, stretched out, staring up at the still surface. I couldn’t bring myself to talk. Not yet.
I just shook my head. But they both should’ve guessed what had happened to me.
“He needs some space,” Marcilla murmured. “Given time, I think he will recover. This was only his first escape attempt—their mind torture would’ve been a shock, but this boy is strong.”
Nolan and Chantel remained next to me a few moments longer before backing away with Marcilla.
“This boy is strong.” Marcilla’s statement echoed around in my head.
I needed to be strong. I needed to be. For my family. For River.
But lying here in the gloom of The Underworld, I’d never felt weaker in my life.
Ben
Time lost all meaning as I lay at the base of the pool. I was vaguely aware of Chantel and Nolan drifting over to me again after a few hours, gazing into my eyes and asking if I was all right. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I was sure that other ghosts also approached to take a look at me, but I barely saw them. My eyes glazed over even as I knew that I needed to keep them open. I needed to keep alive whatever spark of consciousness I still had within me. I couldn’t become a victim of The Underworld. That was what the ghouls wanted.
But even now that I was out of the coffin, away from the ghoul’s poisonous touch, and although my intelligence told me that none of the things that I’d witnessed in there were real, my mind still latched onto the visions as though they were the gospel truth.
My eyes closed, and I drifted in and out of awareness. Even the quiet mutterings of the ghosts surrounding me disappeared as I lost myself deeper and deeper into a pit of despair and hopelessness, a depression like I’d never known before.
And I would’ve sunk deeper still had a familiar voice not forced its way into my mind. A female voice, shouting my name right near my ear. It was so loud, I couldn’t ignore it. In my semi-conscious state, I’d thought that perhaps it was Chantel, but there was no French accent to this voice, and it sounded too young to be Marcilla’s.
“Wake up! Wake up!”
Finally, unable to quell my curiosity, I lifted my leaden eyelids, and found myself staring up into a pair of light blue eyes framed by locks of wild, curly, blonde hair. She might’ve shared the same hair color, but this was definitely not Chantel. My vision came further into focus and in my shock, I found within me the strength to sit bolt upright.
“Kailyn?” I breathed
, my eyes bulging. She was a ghost, like me.
I couldn’t believe it. Was this another dream, albeit a more pleasant one?
She looked just as shocked to see me as I felt to see her.
“Oh, God!” she gasped, moving out to touch me… though of course, her hand just passed through my cheek.
The sight of Kailyn—a relic of my old life—brought with it a rush of relief. A sense of grounding. Of belief that yes, there was another world beyond this dead realm. And I had been a part of it, once, not so long ago… And I remembered now how she’d died.
“What happened to you?” she urged.
“What happened to you?” I managed, even though it was hardly difficult to guess how she’d gotten down here.
“Th-There was a fire in my and Aiden’s cabin—a fire that sparked so abruptly and spread so furiously, I didn’t even have a chance to escape. And I became… this.” Kailyn cast her eyes down upon her wispy form. “I hung around The Shade for a while, but it was”—her voice broke—“just so painful to stay there. To watch your grandfather mourn for me. I felt a beckoning of my soul, elsewhere… beyond. I left The Shade and drifted across the ocean. I found some other ghosts who told me likely the same myth you were told.” Again she gaped at me. “What happened to you, Ben?”
“Ben?” A voice spoke behind Kailyn. It was Marcilla floating nearby, a look of confusion on her face. “I thought his name was Joseph.”
Kailyn turned to Marcilla and spoke to her with familiarity, explaining that my name was Benjamin and not Joseph. The women must have met already.
Kailyn turned back to me. “What happened?” she pressed.
As with my uncle, I was not in the mood to recount my story… a story that was slowly returning to my mind after the torture I had endured. Perhaps there would be time to explain it all later. For now I just replied in a voice that was far lower than usual, “I’m not ready to talk about it.”
Kailyn nodded slowly, understandingly, although there was heartbreak in her eyes. “That’s all right,” she whispered. “But would you tell me what happened to you just now? You tried to escape?”
I eyed her warily and nodded.
She shuddered. “I tried too,” she murmured. “I also got caught.”
From the horror behind her eyes, I could see that she’d had a no more pleasant experience than I’d had. “How did you try to escape?” I asked, my voice still sluggish, although my mind was clearing.
“I headed for the exit—that strange whirlpool—despite what everybody warned me against.” She nodded her head toward Marcilla, who stood watching us, her lips pursed. “They caught me and took me to the coffin room.”
Now that reality was returning to me, as I stared at the werewolf my mind began to race.
Kailyn. Lucas. Who else could be down here?
Kailyn… she would’ve died a sudden, abrupt death for sure. Having been caught by a fire, she had nowhere near been prepared to die.
I thought back to others our island had lost, both recently and in the distant past, even before my birth. Benjamin Hudson was the first person who came to mind, though I doubted he would’ve stayed behind as a ghost. From what my mother had told me of him, he had been prepared for his death, willingly given into it even when my father could have attempted to save him with his blood.
Then I thought of Samuel. Another man I’d never met. Samuel had been Ashley’s old lover. Then again, from what my parents had described of his death, he might have also been prepared for it. It would not have been sudden, that was for sure; the two had been possessed by Elders and forced to fight to a bloody end. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had already accepted that one of them would die, and that it could easily be him…
Then I thought of my grandfather, Gregor Novak… I didn’t know an awful lot about his death, other than he had been found skewered on a stake in the town square. The exact circumstances of his death were a mystery even to my parents, though they suspected the Elders had been behind it…
As I trailed my mind back in time to all our lost souls, I felt an unexpected surge of energy. I need to find out who else is here. I lifted myself to my feet.
Kailyn stood up with me, still staring at me.
“Do you know who else is here?” I asked, realizing that it was probably a stupid question to ask her. Kailyn had been one of the newer recruits to The Shade, and she had not been around to witness many deaths.
Still, she replied, “I haven’t seen anyone I recognize… Though to be honest, I have not explored much since my first failed escape attempt. I’ve only roamed the ponds on this level, to talk to people and ask them what’s going on. That’s how I met Marcilla in this pond—a fellow werewolf. She mentioned a new arrival in here. I never would have dreamt that it would be you.”
“I want to explore this place some more,” I murmured, my eyes falling on Marcilla. “So… ghouls really torture even those found roaming within the confines of these chambers?”
Marcilla let out a dry laugh. “It doesn’t take much of an excuse for them to torture us,” she replied darkly. “Though, typically, you would be punished less for roaming about inside than if they caught you trying to escape again.”
“Right,” I said, grimacing. I turned back to Kailyn. “Well, I’m going to risk it. Would you like to come with me?”
“Yes,” she replied almost without hesitation, her eyes resolute even as her eyebrows twitched uncertainly. She looked frightened but, like me, there was still a fire of hope burning within her. She had not been in The Underworld long enough to have given up yet.
“Be careful,” Marcilla said, her eyes digging into me and then fixing intensely on Kailyn. “Remember that most ghosts only have five strikes—that is, five visits to the coffin chamber before they completely lose their minds. And that’s five at the most. Some lose it after only three.” She paused, letting her warning hang in the air for several moments before continuing, “So… I would advise you to choose your battles wisely.”
I nodded curtly, her words settling on me like a chilly mist. I’d had one strike and although it had been hell, I seemed to have recovered thanks to Kailyn’s appearance shaking me back to reality. I wasn’t sure how long it would have taken to come to my senses without her familiar face. But my mind was already spinning over all the possibilities, all the people who could possibly be here. I couldn’t help but venture out.
I wasn’t yet ready to attempt escape again—I had to give myself a little more time to build up the mental fortitude—but for now, at least I had Kailyn by my side, and together we could explore this place.
Then, after the search, we would have to make it out of here—with or without Lucas… and whoever else we might find along the way.
Ben
More slowly and cautiously than ever before, I lifted myself out of the pond, followed closely by Kailyn. Hovering above the path that ran down the center of our cavern, we gazed around at the almost dozen glowing pools. Although these were all supposed to be new recruits, I still wanted to check them just in case…
This was definitely a less nerve-racking experience than previously. Not only because I had someone accompanying me to keep a lookout, but also, we were constantly dipping into ponds, lessening our chances of being seen. We found nobody else familiar in this chamber, and so we moved to the next… and then the next, and the next. Once we’d searched every pool on our level, we decided to move downward. Each level we passed, the pools became duller and duller, the ghosts more and more lifeless. Until eventually, it appeared that we had almost reached the level where I’d found Lucas.
So many of the chambers looked the same—with identical morbid decorations and a similar number of pools—but I was able to recognize Lucas’ as we passed it. I felt strangely anxious about what state he might be in now as I hurried to the edge. But as I drifted inside, to my shock, I couldn’t spot him anywhere. Fear gripped me—a fear that was surprisingly strong given Lucas Novak’s history. I feared that maybe his t
ime had come, and the ghouls had dragged him down to The Necropolis. But why only him and not the rest of the ghosts who still lay comatose on the floor of the pond? They were in more of a fog than him.
Whatever had happened to him and wherever he’d gone, Lucas wasn’t down here and there was no point in dwelling on it. We continued searching the pools on this level, then ventured even further downward, until eventually the chambers became pitch black, with not even the slightest aura emanating from the ponds. As I moved to the edge of one, I could barely even see to the bottom… and that was probably a good thing.
Shuddering, Kailyn and I stepped away from the edge. We shared a silent understanding that it was better to leave these pools unexplored.
By now—unless there was a whole other wing of The Underworld that we had somehow missed—it seemed that we had explored all the levels that were worth exploring. We failed to find another familiar face.
“I think we should head back,” Kailyn whispered, her eyes fearful.
I couldn’t deny that I was curious about traveling even deeper—until we reached The Necropolis, whatever that even was exactly—but I agreed with her. Neither of us had a clue what we’d find down there, and it was better not to risk it. So we embarked on our slow but steady journey up to the higher levels.
As we made our way back after our failed mission, disappointment gripped me. Those I’d been looking for—Gregor, Sam, Benjamin Hudson and others whom I’d thought would qualify to become ghosts due to the nature of their death—I guessed must have “passed on” after all, or maybe they simply hadn’t been caught by fae or ghouls. I guessed the fae could not catch all ghosts, even those who ventured near the portals. Maybe some of those old souls had even found a way to the elusive other side… The real other side, whatever that was.
In any case, it was time to let go of the fantasy of finding more familiar faces here. For now I just had Kailyn, and Lucas… wherever he had gone to.
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