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08 Nov

Ghost Town Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part FivePart SixPart SevenPart EightPart Nine, Part TenPart Eleven

This time the ghost did reach me and knocked me right off of the bench I was sitting on. It was very frustrating that they could hit me or throw things at me all they wanted but I couldn’t do anything to fight back. It wasn’t fair.

After I rolled for about 30 feet I pushed myself up and prepared for another attack. When I looked up, though, there was no one there, not even Dillon. I doubted that the evil spirit was just going to leave after that, and I was right. He reappeared in front of me and took another swing, once again knocking me to the ground. It was already getting old.

The ghost disappeared again but that is when Dillon came back.

“Wes, are you OK?” he asked.

“Wonderful,” I replied.

“He’s winning.”

“You think?” I didn’t mean to snap at him. I know he’s only seven—I think he is anyway, I never asked—but seriously.

“Behind you!”

I turned around and there he was, ready to knock me into a tree. I thought I might have heard something crack but I was 90 percent sure that it was the tree, however. I hoped it was at least.

When the ghost came at me again I put my hand up and spouted a short Latin phrase as quickly as I could. The ghost disappeared and I knew that he wasn’t coming back any time soon. Yes, yes I made it seem like it’s not easy to get rid of a ghost and that is because it’s not. All I did was banish him to the cemetery for a few hours. Believe me, he will be back.

“Wes!” Dillon shouted.

“Hey,” I said back.

“Are you OK? Are you OK?”

“I’m OK. I’ve had better days but I’m not…I’m fine.” That was close.

“Where did he go?”

“I sent him away for a while.”

“Oh, good. I don’t like him. What do we do now?”

“Well, despite the fact that my pizza is all over the ground, I’m still going to eat it and then we’ll go to the first house.” I couldn’t get sick and there was no way I was going to let all of that good food go to waste.

As I walked around to gather up my scattered lunch I noticed a woman with bruises on her neck walking over to me.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” I replied.

It didn’t take me long to realize that she was dead and the 20 other people that were heading toward me were also ghosts. I felt like my entire body shudder and I cringed like one might do when they see a spider. I would rather have my body covered head to toe in those eight-legged freaks than be near two ghosts.

I continued to get my pizza and ignored the fact that they were definitely coming towards me. Eventually they were all completely surrounding me and there was no avoiding it.

“Can I help you people?” I asked them.

“How did you do that?” one of them asked.

“How did you make him vanish like that?” another said.

“Why can you see us?”

They went on and on and on.

“Stop!” I shouted. They all jumped and stopped talking. “Why are you all here?”

“Larry told us,” someone said.

“Who’s Larry?”

“I am.” The man I saw earlier in the business suit stepped forward. “I told them how you saw me.”

“Naturally. I thought it was you.” I said the last part to Dillon.

“I didn’t tell anybody,” he promised.

“I believe you,” I said.

I looked around at all the ghosts. I had never thought I would see the day when ghosts were surrounding me like they were.

“Why are you all here?” I asked them.

“Are you here to stop them?” the businessman asked me.

“Who?”

“The bad ones?”

“Yes.”

There seemed to be a wave of relief among the crowd and it occurred to me that I was going to get rid of all of them. They might be easier than the one that attacked me but it was going to be a lot of work to figure what they needed.

“How did you die?” I asked the businessman.

He merely shrugged his shoulders.

“How about you?” I asked another one. They just shook their head. I went around to as many as I felt like and none of them could remember. It was odd because a ghost always knows how they died. At least Dillon knew.

“Why are you asking?” one of them asked me.

“Just curious,” I told them. I started for my bike.

“Are you going to get them now?” a ghost shouted.

“Not yet. I have a lot of work to do.”

They looked disappointed.

“Where are we going?” Dillon asked.

“We are going to 255 West Harold Street,” I said.

“OK, I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait,” I stopped him. “I don’t know the way.”

“Oh. OK.” He climbed onto the bike.

We headed out and felt even more nervous than I had 20 minutes prior. It wasn’t because of the ghost that attacked me but the fact that none of the ghosts knew how they had died. Something very odd was going on…

Ghost Town: Part Four

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Posted by on November 8, 2013 in Ghost Town

 

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