Ouija 2: Peering to the Past

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 14 (v.1)

Submitted: February 20, 2009

Reads: 140

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Submitted: February 20, 2009

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Lincoln and Asher

The ceiling fan was turning and spinning, faster and faster, threatening to pull right out of the dry wall. Every time Asher looked up dust and bits of material fell into his face. If it fell he knew it couldn’t chop their heads off or anything. Myth Busters had proven that. But if it landed on them, it would still hurt.

“Come here,” he said gently lifting Shawn off the bed, still under his protective arm. They crouched in the empty corner of the room, facing out as the floor itself seemed to move. This ghost wouldn’t let up.

“What does he want?” Shawn whimpered, not liking this at all. Asher didn’t respond. He had thought about it, the story and the ghost, and had come to one conclusion. Perry Buckle wanted Asher dead.

All the people who had been driven off the road had been couples, the guy always driving. The only thing that Asher could think was that Perry saw the girl as his own girlfriend, Cherry, and the guy was the one hurting her. When Perry died he had heard Cherry screaming, as if she were in trouble. He passed before knowing what or who caused her fear, leaving him to assume it was another guy. His rage and vengeance had driven his torn soul to walk the earth seeking the one who had harmed his love.

“WHY?!”

Every time the sound punctured their ears the anguish and terror Perry Buckle felt was there beneath the fury. Asher could sense it, almost feeling sorry for the guy but since the ghost had the target on Asher’s head, his sympathies were short lived. Best to put this guy out of his misery.

“Cherry…”

Shawn screamed before Asher even realized what had happened. The wispy shadowed figure of Perry appeared on the other side of the room, his head tilted dangerously far. His black eyes didn’t blink as he approached. Just a blank stare, mouth hanging open ominously, for once not uttering a sound. With each of his steps the bustling around them slowed and settled to a dim rumble that coincidedwith the rolling thunder in the distance. When his shoes were barely inches from them, Perry standing over them, Asher touched his gun, not blinking either.

Perry took in shuddering breaths as he straightened his neck, his chest rising in uneven intervals. Those holes of darkness were directed upon him, the anger not there. Not liking the quiet Asher raised his weapon in defense, pointing it to the ghost’s chest. Perry continued breathing oddly. After all the commotion Asher expected more out of him.

Then it spoke softly. “I…couldn’t…save you.”

Peering to Shawn Asher found she had tears in her eyes as her own breathing became uneven. She was staring up at the ghost who had killed her brother with confusion and pity…but no anger. Perry Buckle was only protecting his love. He didn’t know any better.

“You did. You did save…me.” Shawn played along, her voice shaky. “I’m okay.”

The ghost’s image fluttered airily like smoke as he bent low to face her at the same level. Asher watched as they stared at each other with wide eyes, awestruck expressions, silent questions being answered, during the exchange. Neither moved for at least two minutes.

But their luck was out. Vengeance was vengeance.

A cold hand shot out toward Asher’s throat, grasping him tight, cutting off the air at once. His senses faltered without the oxygen as he was lifted higher against the wall. The screams were distant in his ears, the more prominent sound being his overworking pulse.

Gagging and choking Asher grabbed at the cold fingers wrapped around his neck but his strength was lowering. Where was Lincoln?!

Black spots dotted his blurry vision and his other senses faded. No matter how much he tried to hang on to the dim light of the bedroom or the sound of Shawn pleading his name repeatedly, he felt defeat after every second. He couldn’t last.

BANG!

Falling to the ground was all right since he received a breath through dry pipes.Coughing Asher rolled slightly, his bearings off. Blinking rapidly he thought he saw Shawn holding the gun, still pointing it to the place where Perry had been standing, strangling Asher. She was frozen, face straight, her green eyes somehow brightened with satisfaction. Although Buckle wasn’t gone she had gotten what she wanted. One shot at him.

If he wasn’t mistaken, her mouth twitched ever so slightly, for the briefest of moments, to a grin. Asher was troubled by it greatly no matter how much he understood about her situation. Killing, even just demons and spirits, was still killing. And after a moment, Shawn seemed to realize that.

Horror struck her features, the gun falling to the ground as she backed into the wall. What she had done greatly impacted her. Asher tried to stand but didn’t get far.

“Shawn,” he said hoarsely. “Shawn, it’s okay.”

Her lip trembled. It appeared she hadn’t heard him at all. She slid down the wall, curling her arms around her knees, burying her head. Down there Asher could comfort easier.

Sliding over he wrapped her in a hug as she silently sobbed for her brother. Asher found he had the patience to sit with her for however long it took. It was a good thing too because she didn’t appear to over Aiden’s death any more than she had on the day it happened.

So in a strange way shooting Perry was therapeutic. Who’da thought?

~~

Luckily there were matches in the closet that was unlocked down another hall in the church. Lincoln was already bounding out the back doors when he got his hands on them, knowing there was no time to lose. Outside the rain had started subsiding mostly, the thunder distant. Quite a short storm.

Everything in place from the bag, Lincoln handed the can of salt to Veronica while he lit the match. A flame ignited with that sizzling sound that Lincoln sort of liked and he smirked.

“Adios, Casper.” He dropped it into the hole before them, the flame igniting the gas over the bones immediately. A fire broke out, spreading the length of the coffin, leaving nothing left to singe.

Veronica was watching with her dazed curious eyes, taking it in. Lincoln considered what he had said earlier about her leading the life of a Hunter. It might not be a bad idea. All she needed was some training and learning. Hell, he’d even be willing to let Shawn in on it. After all, four Hunters on the search for the demon who killed his parents was better than two.

“C’mon, short stack, we better get on outta here. I left quite a mess.”

They both traced the muddy tracks left by the big wheels with their eyes. The tracks led several awkward paths through the mud between rows of gravestones. Lincoln kind of did feel bad about it.

Veronica let out a sigh.

“What?” he asked.

“Short stack,” she mumbled, annoyed. Lincoln laughed.

“What, you’re offended?”

“No,” she groaned. “You made me hungry!”

He couldn’t help laughing some more as they hurried back through the building and out the front doors together.


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