The Maze

The three of them ran down the corridor as the medieval-looking walls closed in on them further and further.

Trace, Chad, and Melody gradually moved from a three-abreast to a single-file formation, desperately trying to make it to the opening at the end of the long, ever-narrowing passageway before being crushed to death.

Ahead of him, Chad watched Trace as she reached the opening and disappeared around its edge moments before he made it himself and leaped around the corner of the opening.

Once around, he found Trace stopped dead in her tracks in front of another opening and barely had time to stop before ramming into her.

From behind he heard Melody's guttural shout as she leapt out of the opening just as the walls slammed unforgivingly together.

Not slowing, she kept right on running passed him and Trace, but snapping out of her gaze, Trace snatched Melody's arm just before she careened straight off the edge of a deep chasm that led into darkness below.

"Whoa, there!" Trace shouted as she held onto the still yelling Melody and pushed her back against the pockmarked stone of the wall that connected to the ledge they stood on; no wider than a few paces.

"Oh, shit!" Melody exclaimed as she realized what was in front of her and her eyes bulged at the seemingly bottomless void they now were faced with. "What's with this place!? I just want to get the hell outta here!"

Trace gripped the panicking Melody by the shoulder and tried to calm her.

"It's okay. We're okay." Trace tried to placate her. "We'll just figure this one out like the rest and we'll be on our way out. Just calm down and take a breather."

Chad strained his eyes to look across the expanse and could see another ledge and opening on the far side. Tracking the opposite side to the left and right, he could see no way across.

"I don't know." He stated in his unperturbed voice. "I can't see any way to get to that other side, and..." Squinting to focus further on the far side, he continued, "...I think, Trace, do you see what I see over there?"

Trace looked from Melody to follow Chad's outstretched arm to where his finger pointed across the wide gorge. To the other side where she could just make out three figures standing on the ledge opposite them. One of them pointing back to where they stood.

"Oh no." Trace said in a downtrodden voice.

"What?" Melody asked frantically as she looked across at what the other two were staring at.

"Great." She exclaimed once she finally saw the others staring back, "a giant mirror wall! So there's probably nothing over there at all to even get to; a trick to make us try and jump or something and just fall forever into this bottomless pit!"

Her voice echoed across the expanse as she slid down the wall to a crouch, holding her head in her hands as she began to rock back and forth.

Chad continued to watch their far reflections as Trace tried to comfort Melody again.

"It's okay, Melody." Trace soothed, "we'll figure something out, maybe we'll just go along the ledge here until we find another opening. What do you think, Chad?"

Before he could respond, Melody laughed derisively.

"Ha! Chad is probably loving all of this!" She huffed accusingly. "An endless, mysterious, and ancient maze, full of deadly traps, all hidden below a legitimately haunted house that he goaded us into exploring! He's probably having the time of his life!"

Starting to laugh hysterically, Melody pushed Trace's arms away and continued to rock on her heels.

"Hey!" Chad's booming shout jolted both women's attention to their usually mild-mannered and good humoured friend.

"Stan is dead!" He cried out. "We evoked the wrath of the spirit of the evil necromancer that built that house up there, when YOU red aloud the inscription on that ebony orb I might add, and have been wondering this ghost-riddled maze for who knows how long. If we don't get killed by the maze's puzzles, or a ghost of one of that guy's victims, we'll probably starve to death because I haven't found anything to eat down here, have you?!"

Calming a little, Chad shivered and continued in his regular voice as the other two stared in shock.

"So, no, Melody," he said with a sigh. "I am not loving it down here."

The three stood in silence for sometime before Chad stomped at a loose stone with his foot.

"Sorry." He said mildly. "I'm hungry and tired and scared. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I just want to get out of here too..."

He stopped as he kicked the loose stone over the edge of the ledge, and instead of falling down into the void of the pit, it seemed to just roll over the ledge and continue on.

"What a second." He said as he peered over the edge.

Trace and Melody looked at each other with mutual puzzlement and then to Chad just as he was stepping over the edge.

"Chad, no!" Trace shouted as she moved to grab him, but it was too late, he had disappeared over the ledge.

She scrambled over to where he had stood and reared back with surprise as his head popped back into view from beyond the darkness.

"It's corner, not a ledge!" Chad told them with glee. "Just step around and the ground is beneath you! Come on, there's an opening just down there!"

He pointed off to a direction hidden by the ledge.

Looking back at the flabbergasted Melody, Trace was flummoxed herself.

"I think we'll be out of here in no time!" Chad reassured in a chipper voice as he stood at an impossible angle.

Later, after escaping the soul survivor of the necromancer's accursed maze, though he would never admit it to anyone aloud, Chad was indeed having a really good time!

Christmas Carol

Oh, Carol, how I wish you were here with me now. I have been good all year and now I am missing you; wishing you were here with me on this lonely Christmas night.

I think of the times we had and the love that we shared and I want you to come back to me; come back to me now, so I can make it right.

Oh, Carol, how I wish I could take all that I said and all that I did. If you came back to me now you would see, I really have been good ever since you went away. For now I only sit and look out the window, waiting for your return, but there is only the wind blowing cold outside in the dark, wintery night.

It was a night just like tonight that you took your leave, and I hope that now, perhaps you will finally come back to me, tonight of all nights. But lo and behold, what is this I see in the distance now; a slender, spectral figure, clad all in white.

Is it you who I see? Is it you who has come back to me? I knew you could not be held, deep down in the frozen, earthly soil of your shallow grave. I knew you would come back to me, oh Carol, are you not the most wonderful sight!

But why do you seem so full of anger and rage, my love? You cannot still be mad at me. After all, I did bring you back. I know I was the one, who put you in that hole in the ground, but I have been so good and spoke the spells and incantations correctly; I preformed the rituals right.

Oh, Carol, I have brought you back to me, granted, with the same black magic that I used to murder you the year before, but that was so long ago. Can you not forgive me? Please, my love, why put your cold, dead hands around my throat? Please, Carol, oh please, what will the neighbours think, when they find my body throttled by a ghost? They will certainly die of fright.

My Love

Why do you shake, my love?

Though, the fire is roaring with its heat so bright,

There is indeed a chill in the air that cuts me to the very bone.

Why do you shiver and quake, my love?

For it was I that was lost in the dark and cold of the woods tonight,

Though I cannot remember how I came to be there, dirty and alone.

Why have you gone so pale, my love?

It was I who had visions so terrible and full of fright;

Visions of being buried alive in the earth so deep,

For past sins I had to atone.

Why do you not come to me, my love?

I have returned home to you, but you do not delight.

After I awoke in that muddied field,

At the foot of that foreboding tombstone.

What is that you whisper, my love?

I cannot not hear what you have said.

Mutterings to yourself,

That I cannot be here...

That I am dead.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rk7B-E4oIWA

Trunk

Along the sidewalk of the tree-lined street, the little old man shambled; his beat up steamer trunk in tow. The rusty wheels of the trunk's hand cart rattled loudly, breaking the peaceful quiet of the residential avenue.

On their way to school, Richie and Tim doddled as they stopped to look at the strange wildlife of caterpillars, beetles, and spiders that thrived upon the grassy yards of the well-kept homes they passed.

Across the street, Richie spotted the little old man who had stopped and set up his trunk atop the hand cart which doubled as a stand for the worn and battered case.

The hunched man stood serenely beside his closed trunk; as if awaiting any interested parties to arrive.

Richie tugged at Tim's packsack and motioned for them to go over to see what the old man was all about.

Reluctantly, Tim followed as he ran to catch up to Richie who had already started to cross over to where the benign looking old man stood.

"Hey, Mister," Richie blared unabashedly. "Whatcha got in the trunk, there?"

The old man smiled to greet them as Tim came up beside his friend, but the way in which his grin did not touch his black eyes made Tim's skin crawl. There was nothing benign about the little old man in the brown polyester suit.

"Oh, hello, boys." He said in a tinny voice that set Tim's teeth on edge. "My trunk? Oh well, I have something very unique inside; very special."

He placed his ancient fingers upon the leather-bound case, gently kneading its scuffed surface as he leaned in closer so he could lower his already quiet voice to a whisper.

"Would you believe," he started, the black pools of his eyes glistening. "That inside this old trunk of mine, I have a real, honest and true ghost?"

Richie scoffed loudly, but Tim's eyed the case warily.

"There ain't no such thing as ghosts, mister." Richie stated brazenly. "My dad told me, they're just in stories to scare people."

"Oh?" the old man questioned mockingly. "Is that so? Well, I can tell you for a fact that there are ghosts and that I have one right here in this trunk."

Tim looked from the serpent-like smirk on the old man's wrinkled face to the mysterious steamer trunk with an impending sense of dread that made his stomach tense and knot.

Richie laughed out loud this time.

"Oh yeah?" he said belligerently. "Prove it. Show us your 'ghost'!" he nudged Tim with his elbow knowingly, but Tim continued to stare at the now menacing trunk on its rickety old cart stand.

A curious thought popped into his and a got the better of his fear so he heard himself start to speak before he realized what he was doing.

"How," he creaked, "how did you catch a ghost in there?" His own voice seemed distant in his ears. "If it's a ghost, couldn't it just float through the case and escape?"

Finally looking back to the old man, Tim was startled by the knowing wink he gave as his smile grew, this time making it all the way to his raven-black eyes; making him all the more terrible.

"Ah, yes." The old man delighted. "That's the tricky part. You see this is a very special trunk. Why don't you boys come closer and I'll show you."

Crossing his arms in defiance, Richie scoffed again and took a bold step toward the trunk. Tim however, an icy chill stealing over his heart, shook his head and took a step back.

"We... we better get to school, Richie." He said as he tried to pull his friend away by his shirt sleeve.

But Richie pulled away, moving closer to the trunk still.

"We got time." Richie stated, not taking his eyes off the old man who simply smiled his sickly smiled back at the pig-headed boy. "Go on, show us."

Sliding his bony hands to the trunk's tarnished brass latches, the old man's smile broadened and he became even more hunched and warped-looking as the locks snapped open.

"You sure now?" The old man inquired, almost gleefully. "You really want to see?"

Tim backed away as the trunk top creaked open to let a sliver of the darkness it held inside, and real fear gripped him; terror at what was in that darkness.

Richie's smug expression started to falter as the lid slowly opened wider and Tim almost thought he heard him whisper, "No."

But he would never be sure, for as he looked on in terror, the image of Richie doubled and a transparent version of his friend began to be pulled from his solid form and sucked into the blackness within the trunk.

Finally finding his legs, Tim turned and ran; horrid cries from Richie mixed with the cackling laughter of the old man filled his ears as he sprinted down the street, leaving his friend and the nightmare of what was happening behind him.

The screams and laughter faded and were soon replaced by the noisy squeaking wheels of the big, leather-bound trunk being pulled along on its cart by the little old man in his brown polyester suit, shambling along the picturesque suburban street.

City of Ghosts

Walking down the crowded sidewalk, Joshua barely even looked up from his phone to watch where he was going, he only moved along with the flow of the sea of other pedestrians, none of whom were  looking up from their phone screens either.

It was the usual walk from work to the train station and no one took notice of anyone else.

He dropped the few spare coins he had in his pocket into the cup of the homeless man that was always sitting on the street corner before the station, but he barely even registered the automatic act of kindness as he walked on.

A shrill tire screen did make him look up for a moment, but there was no immediate danger, so Joshua went to turn his attention back to his phone. Yet, before he lowered his gaze again he briefly saw a young woman walking a short distance ahead of him, heading towards him.

It was not her attractive, slightly sad face that made him take notice of her, but the fact that she had just walked right into an oncoming business man and had passed through him.

The sight made Joshua to stop dead in his tracks, causing the annoyed legions behind him to grumble about watching where he was going as they cascaded around him. Not hearing the other pedestrians' protests, he stood and stared as the tall, pale girl walked closer, some pedestrians narrowly dodging her, others passing right through her as if she was not there.

She passed where he stood and he felt the urge to reach out with his finger tips to gently brush her shoulder, but he only gaped at her as she seemed to float by.

Unable to stop himself, Joshua turned and began to follow her, heading in the direction he had just come.

Keeping his eyes fixated on her deftly moving shape, he weaved in and around the oncoming pedestrians as they hurried passed on their regular routes home, none of them even noticing the ghostly spirit that moved through them as she walked determinedly onward.

A few times he nearly caught up with her, but she always rushed ahead with sudden quickness to stay just out of reach, so Joshua had to speed up his pace, sometimes hitting into an unlucky passerby who was not swift enough to move out of his path.

Again and again the girl flitted in and out of people, gaining more ground than he could as he had to move around those that she had merely passed through. Until at last they reached an intersection and the crowds fell away, giving him a clear course as the girl strode out into the street.

Hurrying out to follow her, Joshua reached out his hand as he closed in on her, but again, another shrill tire screech distracted him for a split second and in a flash of screams and pain, he lost her.

Standing alone in the middle of the intersection he looked around and saw himself laying askew on the pavement, the driver of the car that had skidded to a halt in front of where his body lay, was out and kneeling down beside his broken body, shouting silently for help.

Joshua looked back at the horrified crowd, staring at the accident and taking pictures and videos on their phones in a dreaming slow motion, and saw the girl standing in front of them, looking directly at him.

She walked slowly up to where he stood and offered her slender hand to him, which he confusedly took and let her lead him back through the gawking crowd.

As they walked through the throngs of people, he saw others walking along with them, turning to nod at him and then continuing on their way. Then Joshua saw that there were a multitude of them, crowding the busy city streets; all wandering unseen; a city of ghosts.