By Hannah Carter
“Tell me, Eliza Booker. Do you really think you can cheat death?”
Smoke filled my lungs; my breath came in strangled puffs. Around me, a circle of fire blazed—all thanks to the pyre-loving poltergeist smirking like a jack-o’-lantern amid the chaos.
Its appearance continually shifted, like shadows that couldn’t latch onto a form. One moment he resembled a skull—the next, a ghoul with a slashed cheekbone—and even an uncannily handsome man. My stomach twisted in revulsion at each façade.
“I’ve done it thus far,” I wheezed.
From the corner of the farmhouse hallway, Reynolds moaned. He was sprawled out on the wooden floor, eyes closed. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead, and an exorcism cigarette dangled limply in his fingertips. His chest rose and fell spasmodically, the only sign my living boyfriend hadn’t joined me in the afterlife.
The not-quite-a-man slithered around me. The flames rose higher, and sweat poured down my brow. My heart beat quicker when he passed near Reynolds, but I swallowed down my nerves.
“Do you want to know what happened to the Dagg children? Why little Dinah, Mary, and John never reached adulthood, even after they thought they vanquished me? How I came back for them, one by one?” He chuckled, a snake-like hiss. “You can join them in their torment.”
I clenched my fists. “I’m only interested in sending you back where you came from, poltergeist.”
“The good people of Shawville have been trying to send me back where I came from since September 15, 1889. But the Dagg family couldn’t stop me… The current owner couldn’t stop me… What makes you think you can stop me?”
“For one thing, I’m American, not Canadian. I won’t be as polite about my exorcism.”
He snickered. “Wit won’t help you now. Today, one of us must lose to death.” He melted into the floorboards and reappeared behind me, his breath hot on my neck. I yelped and whirled around to find the skull’s empty eye sockets hovering inches from my face. I lunged for him, blistering my palm. I shrieked and jerked away.
Blistered. I was supposed to be beyond such injuries. A perk of being undead.
“Ah, bravo. Another fine attempt at stopping me.” The deformed man chuckled, circling. “Pity I can’t exorcise you with fire. Not to worry. There are other ways to make a ghost move on.” He sank back into the floorboards and stepped out of the wall as a glowing man, wearing a crown atop his long, white hair. “You don’t belong here, Eliza Booker. Everyone you loved is gone.”
I flinched. Images of my family bubbled to the surface, a powerful sorrow.
“You’re outdated. Forgotten. Dead.” The fire roared hotter and taller, and I held up a hand to protect myself as tears rolled down my cheeks. “How did you die?” his disembodied voice hissed.
“Unimportant.” I shook away painful, unwanted fragments of memories.
“Oh? Don’t like to think about it, hmm? Wise. Because if you remember your death, you’ll have to leave this plane of existence and move to your final destination.”
I swallowed. Hazy visions—more so colors, shapes, and fragments of things I had once known than anything I currently knew—shoved through my mental block. My stomach revolted, and I gagged.
The flames crept closer. “Stop clinging to this world, Eliza. Nothing—no one—holds you here.”
A skeletal hand reached through the blaze and latched onto my wrist. The icy grip blasted through my last defense, giving weight and form to my agonizing last moments.
Shrieking, I collapsed. Memories pounded against my skull, trying to mold themselves into my past. My death.
A bitterly cold night. Snow blinded me and coated everything, but I yearned to get home. My brother would be back tonight. He’d been away so long, and anticipation made me giddy as I slid into my car.
“Stop,” I croaked. I didn’t know if I meant the poltergeist who still gripped me or the past me.
Headlights lit the curvy road. I urged the car forward, singing a Christmas carol under my breath.
Unaware of the ice ahead.
The poltergeist’s shriek brought me back to the present.
Releasing me, he howled, an unearthly sound that seared my soul. Fire consumed his body while the conflagration around me smoldered and disappeared to reveal Reynolds. My bloodied hero clutched a lit exorcism cigarette in his hand, his eyes half-closed. “Liza—”
Sobbing, I pinched my eyes closed and curled into the fetal position. My whole body trembled. No longer hot, but freezing.
My breath came in hitches, and panic needled me as the steering wheel jerked in my hands. I careened toward a tree—
“Liza—Liza, it’s over.” Something thudded beside me, but my eyes wouldn’t open to the present. All I could see was myself, alone in my car, crashing through a guard rail, hurtling over an embankment. My stomach flew into my throat, choking me. “Liza! Stay with me. Stay with me!” Reynolds’s voice rose. “Open your eyes, Eliza!”
A shriek ripped from my throat. The tree line was too close, my death imminent—
Reynolds kissed me.
Or, kissed me as best he could. His lips felt like a gust of wind buffeting my particles. Heat—warm and sweet, not filled with a poltergeist’s fury—surged through me, and I snapped out of the cold Christmas night.
I gasped, my eyes flying open.
Reynolds slumped beside me. “That’s my girl. Keep your eyes open. Focus on me.”
“Reynolds,” I croaked. “Dagg’s Demon?”
He leaned closer, sending a shudder through my particles again. The smell of his musky cologne tethered me even more to the present. “We did it. He’s gone, Liza.”
Tears rolled freely down my face. The poltergeist had claimed everyone I loved had died, but one of them still breathed. I reached for Reynolds’s hand, chasing any remaining bits of cold out of my system.
With Reynolds’s help, I’d cheated death one more time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A spooky tale with an undead narrator! Two thumbs up. The American/Canadian reference was hilarious.
I always look forward to these when I see it’s another Reynolds and Eliza story. This was creepy and sad and funny all at once. I loved it!
Another solid entry in the series! Great job!
I love them so much.
Quite the thrilling tale!
another great installment, and yet we long for more…
I like these characters and their weird, undead/living relationship! Another great story about Eliza’s undead adventures!
This gave me so many chills… Amazing job.
Very impressive to give us big stakes that don’t feel forced, even in such a short story. Well done!
Great job once again, Hannah!! I could just imagine the entire snowy scene in my head so well! Such wonderful description all the way through the story! ☺️
This one had me on the edge of my seat!
This storyworld is one of my favorites… 💗
Oh my goodness, this is going to make me cry!!! Such a great story with so much emotion <3