Darkness Echoes: A Spooky YA Short Story Collection

by L. A. Starkey

  “Please don’t be gone. Please don’t have burned out.” Thoughts of smashing the lantern bubbled up inside her mind. If she broke it, then that would mean he was gone; that the light had burned out. But, if she broke it without knowing—

  She stopped, transfixed as the glow of her flashlight lit up a symbol drawn into the condensation. A heart.

  Suddenly calm again, Tori traced her finger over the heart, confirming that it was drawn from inside the glass. Blood rose to her cheeks, warming and comforting her, as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and snapped a shot. “I should have thought of this earlier when he was here,” she grumped. “How distracted was I?” Tori checked and rechecked the picture to make sure the heart was there and clearly visible before saving it and shoving the phone back inside her pocket. She knew the photo wouldn’t convince others that he’d left her a message from the other side of the glass. But for now it was enough to assure herself that he’d been there; that she hadn’t made him up, and that her grandmother’s help keeping her nighttime visits secret wasn’t for nothing.

  As much as Tori missed Jared, she knew she wouldn’t be coming back to visit him again. Shoving the notebook aside, she dropped the stethoscope back in her grandmother’s nursing bag and wedged her arm through the bag’s handle. Still holding the flashlight in one hand, she grabbed the handle of the lantern and slid it off the pole’s hook.

  “Tomorrow’s Halloween night,” she said softly. “I can’t keep my promise to visit you after trick-or-treating with Kimmy. But I can’t leave you here either.”

  Pointing the flashlight in the direction of her grandmother’s house, Tori turned her back on the clearing and the lantern’s pole. “I’m taking you home with me,” she added as she walked away, carrying the lantern with her through the night.

  ***

  Tori locked the door from the inside of her bedroom. In an attempt to hide the lantern, she folded a quilt over its top and gently tucked in the ends before slipping it into a corner between her bed and desk.

  She paused before crawling underneath the cool, crisp sheets. What if he suddenly lights up and it creates a fire hazard? The lantern had never burned hot when she held it on her lap. It had stayed comfortably warm and never too bright. But she was in no mood for a new surprise that would put her family members and her grandmother’s house in danger. Having no idea where her grandmother kept a fire extinguisher, Tori tiptoed out of her room, flashlight in hand. She scanned the walls for cabinets and safe boxes like the ones she’d seen at school. Finding nothing but portraits hung over antique wallpaper, Tori descended the stairs in search of the next best thing she could think of, a large container filled with water.

  Before making the turn into the living room, which looked even more like a cave at night, the beam from the flashlight reflected off a glass object, a vase. The flowers arranged inside were wilted, pink carnations, the petals of which had begun to brown at the edges. Tori wrinkled her nose at the rotting flower stench as she lifted the vase from its pedestal and padded off to the kitchen, where she dropped the flowers in a trash can. After rinsing the vase, she filled it to the brim with water. This will have to do, she thought as she turned back toward the staircase and made her way back up to her room.

  She stepped lightly past the doors to the guest rooms where her parents and Kimmy slept, careful not to wake anyone up. Her room was nearest to her grandmother’s master bedroom. A sound from her parents’ bedroom stiffened her spine—a snore, likely one of her father’s. Tori exhaled, relieved that he was in a deep sleep. She wasn’t sure what she’d say if asked to explain why she was wandering the hallways at night with a flashlight and a large vase filled with water. Her parents knew her too well to accept “I was thirsty” as an answer.

  Once she returned to the safety of her room, Tori shut the door with a sigh and set the vase on an end table next to her bed where she could reach it, just in case.

  Exhausted, Tori collapsed on the bed and laid her head back against her pillow. Her lips tugged downward. Still disappointed about not seeing Jared that night, she rolled over on her side and looked at the quilt-covered lantern before powering off the flashlight with a departing click.

  “Goodnight, Jared, wherever you are.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Halloween

  Laughter and chatter filled the air on a brisk night. Fireflies lit the sky, dancing and twirling beneath a curtain of stars. Weary eyes found it impossible to tell where the stars’ twinkling ended and the fireflies began.

  One by one, rays of light flickered to life, stretching from torches held by a circle of party guests. No sooner would one’s eyes adjust to a new beam before the one next to it made itself known, appearing to the former’s right, and so on, until the circle of light was complete.

  Tori found herself standing in the center of the circle. Funny, she thought, squinting. I don’t remember being invited to a party. She looked down at her dress and smiled. Fabric and lace in soft pastels blossomed from a belt of lollipops cinched around her waist. Her gaze followed the knee-length hem to her legs, covered with tights banded red and white like candy canes sticking out of clumps of mud. She frowned. Instead of dainty ballerina flats, she’d worn her hiking boots.

  Confused as to why she’d forget such an important detail for her costume, Tori ran her fingers through her blue and pink wig. Feeling the weight of a handle pulling against her other hand, she looked down, expecting to see a trick-or-treat bag filled with candy.

  She stared at her hand as a sick feeling washed over her. Instead of a bag, she held a lantern. All of the torches were aimed toward it, making it glow more brightly than she’d ever seen. Trembling, she lifted the lantern away from the converging beams of light. She sucked in a breath as she stared at an unlit globe, empty with darkness.

  “What’s wrong, Tor?”

  Tori’s mouth fell open. “Shawna, what are you doing here?”

  “You invited me, silly. I wanted to check out that lantern you’ve been telling me about.” Shawna’s broad shoulders shrugged forward as she bent to look inside the lantern. “Hmm, not much going on in there tonight.” Silky black sleeves and leggings accentuated the slim outlines of her arms and legs as she straightened up. Brows lifted above gray eyes in a mock accusatory look, which Tori might have taken seriously had it not been for the mini witch hat perched on her head.

  “Great costume,” said Tori. “How come you’re not dressed in your volleyball uniform this year?”

  “I had time to come up with something different while you were away. I wanted to surprise you.”

  Tori squeezed her friend. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m happy to see you.”

  “I brought someone with me.” Shawna smirked. “He’s been waiting a long time to see you.”

  Jared? Is he here? Is that why he’s not inside the lantern? Before Tori could repeat her questions aloud, Shawna playfully shoved someone in front of her, a male dressed in a plum-colored cloak; his regalia sparkled with candies made of silver and gold.

  “Surprise! I hope you don’t mind that I hinted at your costume. You know, so you could match.”

  Tori stared up at the dark-haired prince, his eyes half hidden behind a mask of candied plums and strawberries. He grinned.

  “Jared?”

  The prince’s grin immediately fell away. “No, Tori.”

  She paled, both disappointed and embarrassed when she recognized his voice. “Adam?”

  “Surprise!” Shawna giggled, her face glowing.

  With her heart thudding in her ears, Tori stared at the lantern. Where’s Jared? I was supposed to go trick-or-treating with Kimmy. Where am I?

  As if responding to her question, a glint of light appeared in the center of the globe. It brightened, deeper and warmer until Tori’s eyes burned. She could neither blink nor look away. With a hiss, the condensation clouding her view melted. Steam rose from the globe, misting her hand and evaporating. The lantern dimmed.

&n
bsp; Tori’s bones turned to jelly as the figure of a person took shape inside the lantern. For the briefest moment, her heart embraced a hope. But then her lips tugged downward as the image became clearer, revealing a cherubic face framed with blond curls. “Ha!”

  Her body jolted. Sweat from her palms caused the lantern’s handle to slip underneath her grip. Tori screamed, frozen and unable to unlock her gaze from a pair of eyes that were both bright blue and terrified.

  She looked on helplessly as the lantern fell to the ground. Glass shattered, spraying the air with a thousand diamonds, each bearing the tiniest reflection of her baby brother.

  ***

  Tori woke up with tears streaming down her face, her head pounding. She gulped for air so violently that it started an episode of hiccups. Sweaty skin stuck to the shorts and T-shirt she’d worn to bed.

  Sunlight poured into the room through a seam between drapes covered with feathered scrolls. The drapes matched the pattern on her comforter, half of which was bunched up and twisted with her sheets. One of her pillows had fallen on the floor.

  With a single leap, Tori stumbled over herself to the corner where she’d hidden the lantern. She lifted the quilted covering and hiccupped again. It was still there, metal and glass—dark, cold, and empty. She pulled the lantern onto her lap and sat curled around the globe until her breathing steadied. “A dream,” she said. “It was just a dream. But how much of it?”

  Once she calmed down, Tori restarted her day with a shower and breakfast with her family. She went through the motions as politely as she could, relaxing slightly when she found Kimmy smiling up at her from his booster seat while nibbling on a pancake. His whole, solid presence was just what she needed to get excited about trick-or-treating—for his sake. She didn’t want to ruin his holiday.

  After breakfast, Tori followed her grandmother out of the kitchen and handed her the key to the side door.

  Her grandmother frowned as she stared at the cleft piece of metal. “You’re giving up?”

  “It’s a long story,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “Can I keep the stethoscope until I have to go home?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  “Thanks, Grandma.”

  For the first morning in what seemed like forever, Tori felt neither worry nor guilt about sneaking out of the house to visit the site where the lantern had been. She hoped it would remain unnoticed in her room until she figured something out. But time was running out. After Halloween, she and her family would return home, nearly a day’s drive away from the plantation. Something needed to happen before she left her grandmother’s home. She thought of different ways to stash the lantern in her luggage, hoping that maybe her grandmother would give her an extra bag that wouldn’t prompt her parents to ask questions.

  Daylight hours passed quickly, partially due to Tori’s nervousness about hiding the lantern in her room. She uncovered it about a thousand times to check for Jared. But there wasn’t the tiniest flicker of light. On the end table next to her bed, the vase stayed filled with water.

  “I don’t know where you’ve gone,” she said, gently smoothing the quilt over the lantern. “I have to get ready to take Kimmy trick-or-treating. I hope to see you when we get back.”

  Tori’s costume hung from a hook on the back of the bedroom door. A flouncing of pastels and lollipops raised her spirits. The corners of her lips almost lifted into a smile as she pulled on her red and white tights.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You look beautiful, baby.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Tori’s lips warmed into a smile as she floated down the stairs.

  Gossamer webs of cotton stretched across the railings, cradling spiders with glittering eyes. Candelabras lined both sides of the foyer.

  “Did Grandma do all this?”

  Tori’s mother shook her head. “At one time your grandmother had hired help who decorated the house for every holiday. Now she’s down to a groundskeeper and a weekly cleaning lady who can only manage one section of the house at a time. That leaves a lot for her to manage herself.” She smiled. “Your father found decorations in the attic. We thought you and Kimmy would enjoy something festive.”

  “It’s amazing. You and Dad did a great job. Where’s Kimmy?”

  Just as Tori mentioned her brother’s name, her father walked in with a giant candy bucket with a smiley ghost painted on its front. Arms and legs stuck out from the soft vinyl cylinder. “Happy Halloween,” Kimmy said. He grinned widely. “Treat!”

  “You have your priorities straight, little bud.” Tori laughed, ruffling his hair. “Are you ready?”

  Kimmy’s cheesy smile said more than words could.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Tori took him by the hand as her mother opened the door for them.

  “Your grandmother’s resting now, but she looks forward to seeing you in your costumes when you get back.” Tori’s mother snapped a photo.

  “Thanks, Mom. Have fun at dinner.”

  “We will. See you later tonight, hon.”

  House after house, Kimmy was the sweetest of treat angels. In less than an hour, his and Tori’s treat bags overflowed with hard candies, taffies, chocolates and enough candy corn to plant a field. At first, Kimmy was enchanted with the idea that his candy bucket costume could also be functional, giggling every time Tori or one of their grandmother’s neighbors dropped a treat in the outer compartments of the costume. But as the evening wore on, his smiles turned into pouts, followed by frequent eye rubs.

  “Getting tired, little bud?” Tori shoved a chocolate drop in her mouth, letting it melt before unwrapping another.

  Kimmy whimpered.

  “I think we’ve got enough candy to last us until Christmas, at least,” Tori said, deciding to cut the night short. “You did great.”

  Yawning, Kimmy raised his arms.

  Finding her brother surprisingly awkward to hold while dressed in his costume, Tori switched arms twice before finally setting him back down on the ground and taking his hand. “Almost home,” she said.

  Tori’s grandmother answered the door when they arrived, her arm balancing a tray of caramel-covered apples. “Oh, just look at you darlings. Just lovely!”

  “Thanks,” Tori answered with a grin. “Kimmy was awesome tonight, but he’s pooped.” She removed his shoes and unsnapped the straps at his shoulders. After the bucket slid to the floor, Tori scooped up her brother to help him wriggle out of the costume.

  “My, what a lot of candy,” said her grandmother, eyeing the stash.

  Kimmy, happy again, squeezed wrapped nougats between his hands.

  Tori’s grandmother handed her the tray of apples. “Do you mind passing these out to trick-or-treaters as they come along? I don’t get too many, but I like to have something to offer just in case. I’ll take care of getting Kimmy up to bed.”

  Relieved, Tori nodded. “Sure, no problem.” She relaxed on a chair her grandmother had left outside on the porch just for that purpose.

  A faint silhouette of the moon had already appeared even though the sun hadn’t yet set. The sleeves of her costume just barely warded off the night’s chill, making her wish she’d brought a sweater with her. She never did like the idea of a coat covering up one of her costumes, but she was more than done for the night.

  Tori’s grandmother returned more quickly than she’d expected; the door closed behind her with a grumpy groan. As if she’d read Tori’s mind, she unfolded one of her lumpy shawls. “Your parents are still at dinner. I don’t expect them to return for another hour,” she said, glancing at her watch.

  Tori thought she saw more meaning behind her grandmother’s eyes, but she wasn’t sure what it could be. When she didn’t say anything, her grandmother cleared her throat.

  “I’m happy to give you the key back for another night if you’d like to use this time to go visit the lantern.”

  “Oh,” said Tori, wide-eyed. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you. The lantern’s not there anymore.” She sud
denly felt guilty for having hidden the lantern in her room. It wasn’t hers to take or to move from its original location, even if it was technically still on her grandmother’s property.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I gave you the key back because I brought the lantern to my room last night. It didn’t light when I went to see it. It’s—” She gulped. “I’ve had it hidden in my room all day.”

  “I see. What do you plan to do with it?”

  Tori’s forehead creased. “I’m not sure. I doubt my parents would let me take it home. But, it’s yours, not mine—I’ll go bring it down,” Tori said, standing from the chair. “I can return it.”

  “I don’t see any reason to go out there tonight,” said her grandmother as she gazed past the porch, toward the gardens. “However, it might look nice here on the porch.” She pointed to a row of hooks screwed into the wooden beams above them. “I use those to hang my flower baskets in the summertime. Let’s try putting the lantern there. At the very least, it will make a lovely Halloween prop. Go on, now. I’ll stay here with the apples until you get back.”

  Tori raced up to her room, somehow managing to drape the shawl around her shoulders in the process. She opened her bedroom door and sucked in a breath when she realized she could see inside the room even though the lights weren’t turned on. The corner where she’d tucked the lantern emitted a strange glow.

  “Jared?” Her voice cracked as she leaped to the corner and pulled back the quilt, now warm from the light of the lantern. There was no condensation. Makes sense, she thought. It’s not cold in here like it was when I saw the lantern outside. She peered inside, but Jared wasn’t there. A pale flame took his place.

  Tori’s eyes stung with tears. Lifting the lantern by its handle, she whispered, “At least it’ll make a nice porch light.” Before stepping out of the room, she grabbed her grandmother’s nursing bag from the edge of her bed. “I might as well return this too,” she grumped, holding back sobs as she walked out of the room. No point in keeping a stethoscope if there’s no one to talk to.