Ghost in the Graveyard

Recorder starts

Luca: Ok, it's working.

Ingram: Neat… you really made that?

Luca: Yeah.

Ingram: Huh…

Luca: I’m getting that you’re surprised.

Ingram: Yeah, I thought… you know.

Luca: I’m broken, not useless.

Ingram: I knew this was a bad road to walk down, I just can’t help myself.

Luca: I’ve heard that about you.

Ingram: Well look at us, first night on the job together and we are already so well acquainted. 

Luca: Fuck ups tend to have their reputations precede them.

Ingram: Hey, I’M the fuck up.  You are just FUCKED up.

Luca: Right, not that anyone can tell me what that means exactly.

Ingram:  Deficient and Incomplete Soul Body.  I have heard those words but I haven’t heard them put together in that order before sorry.

Luca: We are all set up here.  I’ll get her.

Ingram: Hey, I mean, I know this isn’t ideal and all… 

I know I’m doing what you were supposed to… I mean I just want to say I get it, you know?

Luca: Oh yeah, you seem like you really get it.

Door opens and closes

Ingram: to himself Fuck, good job Ingram, that went great.

Door opens

Luca: Just have a seat here, Alice.  You’re ok now.  Just sip that whenever you start to feel shaky. 

Alice: lost ok.

Ingram: Hello there, Alice, my name is Ingram, we are just going to take your testimony, as much as you can remember.

Alice: I still… I don’t know… where do I even start…

Ingram: a magical charm in his voice  The beginning is a great spot.  The tale will fall out of you, whole and true. Reply. Remind. Retrieve. Renew.

Luca: Fuck.  

Ingram: I know you’ve seen people use True Speech before, but I don’t use it like them, I swear.  

Luca: Justify using what a demon gave you however you like.

Alice: We wanted to go hiking. Midterms just wrapped, and we wanted to get off campus for a day. 

Ingram: We are still recording yeah?

Luca: Yeah.

Alice: Marty was the one who suggested this place. He found it on some hiking app, and he claimed that since the main trail was one big loop it would be perfect for beginners like Izzy and Shelby. It was a two-hour drive from civilization, then a three-hour hike. If we left campus by 10, he promised we’d be home in time for dinner.

It was the five of us: Marty, Iz, Shelby, Clay, and me. They were all tight since Freshman year, so I was a bit of an outsider. Iz and I were partners for our History midterm project and we’d become friends. And Shelby was in my dorm, so we kinda knew each other. I’d never met the guys before, but they seemed cool. Truthfully, even though Iz had been kind enough to invite me, I did feel a bit like I was tagging along. Still, it was nice to be part of a group again. And the fact that they wanted to be out in nature made it even better.

My beat-up minivan was the only vehicle that could hold all of us, so I drove. We made it to the trail no problem. Izzy wasn’t thrilled about the pit toilet, but aside from that we started our hike in high spirits. I can’t explain how good it felt to be surrounded by trees! Everyone was laughing and taking pictures. It was fun.

Right up until we realized we were lost. The main trail was supposed to be a loop, but there were other paths that branched off from it at different points. The whole thing hadn’t been well maintained, so sometimes it was unclear which branch was the main trail, and which went off deeper into the woods. And, of course, Marty’s “totally awesome hiking app” didn’t help since there’s no reception up here. There were a few debates about which direction to take, and then a few arguments about the results. I tried to stay out of it, since I didn’t know most of them super well, but I had definitely begun to regret going along. 

When we eventually made it back to the main trail, it was past dinner time and everyone was pissed. Marty had been trying to get the app to load for hours, and he finally found a spot with a signal. According to the map, we were at what was supposed to be the halfway point, so we had about an hour and a half back to the van. And based on everyone’s attitudes, it was going to be a long hour and a half.  Marty and Shelby were arguing about which one of them had gotten us so lost. Clay kept complaining about how hungry he was. And Iz was just silently fuming. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and I hung back a bit from the group as we made our way back.

That little bit of distance is why I noticed it. I thought I was overreacting for a few minutes, but this old recognition inside me woke up. 

I couldn’t pinpoint them, but someone was watching us from the woods. I was sure of it. 

See, I grew up in a small neighborhood right next to a park. It was pretty big; plenty of space for our little gang. There were seven of us. Me and my two brothers. Christie across the street. The Jackson twins around the block. And Manny and Juan two houses down. We grew up together, and spent every summer running feral through the park. Most of our houses bumped right up to it, and on the other side was a drainage pond, so it was pretty secluded and safe. Our parents called us inside every night at 11pm, but that was the extent of our supervision. That park was our kingdom! Our favorite thing to do was play night games. Kick the can, flashlight tag, stuff like that. But our absolute favorite game was Ghost in the Graveyard. 

The game was simple. One person in the group was picked as the ghost. They went and hid somewhere in the park while the others counted to thirty on a bench near the entrance. That bench was home base. The goal was to do a full loop of the park and make it back to the bench without being tagged by the ghost. If you could do that, you were safe. But the ghost was hiding somewhere in the dark, waiting to tag you, ideally jumping out and scaring you in the process. The first person to spot the ghost had to yell, “GHOST IN THE GRAVEYARD!” Then the chase was on. If the ghost tagged you, the game was over and you became the ghost for the next game. If no one got tagged, that poor sap had to be the ghost again and again until they finally got someone. 

We played this game for hours almost every night in the summers. There were only two rules: One, you had to make the full loop of the park before you were allowed to touch homebase. No going halfway and circling back. If you did that, you forfeit and automatically become the next ghost. And rule two: no fireworks allowed. chuckle Micky Jackson was responsible for that one. Sometimes you don’t think you need a rule until you REALLY need a rule. Anyway, aside from those two things, everything was fair game. 

The thing about that game was that it was exciting, but also terrifying. As the ghost, part of the fun was trying to scare your friends as much as possible before tagging them. That meant, if you were a runner, you were always on high alert. It was an ominous feeling, knowing someone was out there in the dark, hunting you. 

That you were prey.

That was the feeling I had as we walked along the trail. I know it sounds stupid: that a childhood game made me aware of some mysterious killers in the woods, but it’s what happened.

I don’t know what first alerted me to their presence. It could have been the snapping of a twig or a rustle in the brush. Maybe just instinct from all those years playing with my friends. Whatever it was, I couldn’t shake the terrible feeling of being watched, so I decided to listen to it. And once I started really paying attention, I saw them moving. Not on the path, but off in the woods, from the shelter of the trees.

I counted three of them. But who knows how many more I didn’t see.

I was super freaked out, but I didn’t want to let whomever was out there know I was on to them. I caught up with Iz and, quietly, I told her that something was wrong. That there were people following us from the trees. 

She told me to piss off. 

Marty said it must be a deer, while Shelby accused me of trying to scare everyone for fun. 

I didn’t know what to do, so I just hung back. I let all of them walk about ten yards ahead of me. They seemed happy with the arrangement, and I had the van keys so it’s not like they could leave me behind. Marty and Shelby went back to bickering. Clay and Iz muttered together. And I just…watched.

The attack came about ten minutes later.

The sun was starting to set, and it was darker among the trees, but there was still plenty of light to see someone jump out right in front of me. He was about my height, wearing a black long sleeve shirt and pants, and his face was covered with a plain white mask. He came at me fast, a knife already slashing at my face.  It happened so suddenly I didn’t have time to process it.  If I’d have had time to be scared, if I had actually let the cold rush of fear in… If I’d frozen up… I wouldn’t be here… Luckily, my instincts acted first.

Having older brothers doesn’t automatically teach a person how to fight, but for me it was a pretty good start. I was surprised by the sudden attack, but I’d already known something was out there, so I recovered quick. As the stranger rushed for me, I instinctively kicked out at his knee. The knife slid across my shoulder and we both tumbled over, but I rolled up and pounced before he could regain his footing. That definitely startled him, and I used my millisecond of advantage to box his ears as hard as I could. It was something I’d gotten in big trouble for once as a kid when Danny and I wrestled. My mom had scolded me that if I’d done it too hard, I could have exploded his ear drum. And I think that’s exactly what happened, because the guy in the mask started screaming. But I was already on my feet and running.

That whole time, I could hear the others struggling and screaming ahead of me. I’d been pretty far behind them, so I’m guessing one guy had gone after me and the rest of the attackers had gone for my friends. 

I should have gone to help them. I thought about trying. I did.  I thought about it.  But even as I thought about it my body was sprinting away.  When I ran, I didn’t run to the rescue, I ran into the woods.

I only looked back once, to make sure no one was following me. 

I pushed deeper into the woods until I came to a spot where a tree had fallen years earlier, ripping up the roots and making a large divot in the earth. As quickly and quietly as possible, I wedged myself inside. I wasn’t totally concealed. If someone walked directly by the opening, I’d be caught. But there was no way to see me from the direction of the path.

All I could do then was listen.

I don’t… I don’t think it took very long. Maybe a few minutes? But I still feel like I’m there… stuck in those moments.  I know it was minutes, but it felt like years.

I never imagined anything so horrible could even BE.Could ever happen.I could never have dreamt up anything as horrible as people you know screaming and dying.

Shelby, I think it was Shelby, she was howling. Marty was shouting Izzy’s name. Someone else was crying.

Minutes or years later it was quiet.

My heart was already racing, but the reality of it all crashed into me like a wave. My shoulder burned where I’d been cut. Jagged tree roots pressed into my back, and the smell of decayed leaves stuffed itself up my nose, and I was suddenly aware of just how many bugs called this space their home. 

And my friends were dead.  Probably dead.

I could hear people going back and forth in the direction I’d come. They knew I was out here, and they were looking for me. I started to panic, but some part deep in my brain reminded me panicking was a sure way to get caught. That I just had to follow the steps. That startled me. Like, why was my brain suddenly thinking it was an expert on evading murderers? 

And then I remembered all those nights spent with the neighborhood gang, creeping through the park and chasing that feeling of victory when you made it to the safety of the bench. 

In that moment, I decided all of this was just another game. It was the same game I’d played, and won, hundreds of times before. 

The people in the masks were now nothing more than ghosts. Everything that had happened up to that point was part of the game, and I was going to win.

That made it easier. My panic lessened. Even the closeness of my hiding place felt more manageable. Because it was part of the game. I could still hear them out there searching for me, but my breathing slowed. I prodded my shoulder and found the slice was long, but not deep. I was going to be fine, I just had to make a plan. 

My objective was to get back to the van. That was home base, and once I reached it, I would be safe. I know that sounds ridiculous, there was nothing actually stopping those monsters from hurting me at the van. But I didn’t allow myself to consider any other possibility. 

I let the muscle memory of childhood flood back. If I wanted any chance at winning, I had to follow the steps I’d created all those years ago. My steps guaranteeing victory.

The first thing I did was turn off my phone. Yes, the reception up here was shit, but nothing gets you caught faster than a ringing cell phone. 

Second thing to do was take any advantage possible. As a kid, that meant things like putting myself in front of my slower friends. This time, it meant waiting for full dark. I guessed it would take thirty minutes to get to that point, so I settled in to wait.

Sprinting was out. I was never fast enough to win that way, and since I didn’t know how many ghosts were out there, it was a sure way to get tagged.  I began crawling back to the van, moving one inch at a time.

A different person might have been inclined to speed up at some point, or let the panic creep in when the ghosts got close. 

And they did get close.

I quickly realized these ghosts did not have good strategies. Most of them just raced back and forth along the path, listening for any sign of me. They stepped on every stick. They even breathed loud. I was clearly superior at stealth. But they had the numbers. It was a perfect game. 

At some point, they tried a different approach. A woman walked down the path with a flashlight. 

“Area police,” she called. Her voice was gentle and she was the picture of calm. “We got a call about a possible attack. Is anyone out there? We’re here to help you.”

She made as much noise as possible, swinging her flashlight in wide arcs across the path, clearly hoping I’d come running. Even though the light made her stand out like a beacon, that was when I was in the most danger. If she walked by me and paused for even a moment too long, I’d be spotted. When she got close, instead of running away, which is what my brain screamed at me to do, I froze. By then I’d become so grimy from crawling along the ground, I blended in just enough with my surroundings. She walked right by me. I counted to a thousand before I moved again.

It took hours. My shoulder ached where I’d been cut. But I kept going, and eventually I saw the glow of lamp posts from the parking lot.

That was where willpower came into play. Don’t get excited. Keep to the strategy.

Finally, I lifted my head an inch and saw my red minivan in the parking lot, right where I’d left it an eternity ago.

Home base was in sight. This is the point where a lot of people go wrong. If the ghost hasn’t yet been spotted, or if there are more than one, it’s important to resist the urge to sprint to homebase the second you see it. There is undoubtedly someone waiting there to ambush you. I stopped moving for a while, focusing on watching the lot instead. After about ten minutes, someone came out of the woods. I couldn’t get a look at their face, they were also wearing a hood, but I could see their hands were stained a ruddy brown. They walked to the van and, sure enough, someone crawled out from underneath it. That figure I recognized. It was the guy who had sliced me, his white mask glowing in the light from the lamppost. The two talked for a minute, though I couldn’t hear what they said, before the first one returned to the trees. White Mask guy crawled back under the van. He was definitely watching for me, waiting to shout to the others when I got close. 

The time for stealth was over. Now, I needed to bluff.

While I was still in the shelter of the trees, I carefully got to my feet. With silent steps, I maneuvered around the parking lot until I was facing the back of the van. At least that way White Mask wouldn’t have as clear of a view. 

When I was in position, I pulled my hood up so it hid my face. I took the keys from my pocket, thankfully they hadn’t fallen out, and gripped them tight. Finally, with my back straight and head high, I stepped out from the safety of the trees.  I was just one of them.  Just a ghost in the graveyard.

From here to the end her emotions return and start to build until she’s destroyed and confused by the end

My footsteps were still quiet, but I focused more on keeping my movement casual. If someone was watching from the tree line, which was incredibly likely, my goal was to make them think I was one of them for as long as possible. Each step brought me closer to victory, but it was also agony. I don’t think my heart had ever beat that fast before in my life. Every second I expected people to come rushing out of the trees towards me. I held the keys so tight my hand trembled. But I had to get as close as possible before I pushed the unlock button.

I was about twenty feet from the van when someone yelled from the woods, “That’s her! Grab her, you idiot!”

Now it was time to run.

White Mask started to slither out from his hiding place on the driver’s side, so I sprinted towards the passenger side of the van, pressing the unlock button as I moved. The resulting “beep beep” echoed through the parking lot. White Mask surged towards me. But I was already opening the door. 

I threw myself into the passenger seat, pulling the door closed behind me. I managed to hit the lock a second before White Mask made it to the door. He pulled at the handle, but I scrambled over into the driver seat and started the engine.

Three more of them came running out of the woods with knives in hand. I tried to ignore them, to focus on putting the van in gear and getting the hell out of there. 

Suddenly, one of them threw themselves across the hood of the van, and their hood slipped down. My heart, which had been beating at a thunderous pace, stopped. 

It was Marty. 

He was ok!  He’d made it!  I almost unlocked the door, tried to get him inside… but my instincts froze my hands.

He didn’t look right. 

His cheeks were too puffy and there was so much red around his eyes.

shakily It wasn’t Marty. Just… part of him.

I couldn’t help it. I looked around, and there they were. Clay, Shelby, Izzy. My friends were dead and their ghosts were all around me. Just the thinnest piece of them left… someone else’s eyes looking out from where they talked and smiled and laughed…

The ghost under the car,that had been mine.  

I dropped my foot on the gas pedal. I know one or two went under the wheels, but I didn’t stop. Not until I reached the gas station. 

The game was over. I’d won.

Ingram: Well played. Our best guess is the one who tried to take your face and failed died in that parking lot where they left him, as he was found still with a white mask, but I suppose that’s cold comfort.  Not that any of it will matter to you in a moment. Now forget.

Alice: Sure.

Click clack

Ingram:Fucking god damn ugly, but doesn’t seem connected to The Knot.Your run of the mill cult crazies, or possessed psychopaths or some shit. I’ll alert Blades Gold.

Luca: angry All done here then.  

Ingram:  Ok.So.Is this the same angry as before or a new angry?

Luca: What’s it matter?

Ingram: We have to work together.

Luca: I know.

Ingram: And I’d rather it wasn’t like this.

Luca: I bet.

Ingram: Whatever happened last year, I know it was gruesome. But conservation work is gruesome. If you wanna just forget and go back to being a clueless civilian, I can make that happen.

Luca: That’s what makes me so mad.

Ingram: What?

Luca: You took it from her.  That was hers.  She survived.  She won.  You just stole it.

Ingram:  I stole it?  I took away her fear and her grief and her pain.

Luca: Yes. Exactly. You stole her fear and her grief and her pain. She earned those. She won them. We are our lives… not just the good parts.

Ingram: I… is this that Reclaimer stuff?

Luca: long beat Forget it. There aren’t any Reclaimers. Not anymore.  

Click clack

we hear laboratory sounds

Nijal: Finalization procedures for containment cell.  Primary: Master Odai, Secondary: Adept Nijal and Adept Ingram. beat, under his breath Never thought I’d say that again.

Ingram: Missed you too Nijal.

Nijal: How are you finding it?

Ingram: Resurrection?  I wanted to swagger around and shoot smug glances at all the people who were happy to see me cast out of here, but it's just too goddamn sad.

Nijal: It's been a hard few years.

Ingram: I’m getting that.  All my “I’m back from the dead after being banished for bringing people back from the dead” jokes seem fully tasteless now.

Nijal: And you’d never do anything tasteless.

Ingram: Me? Never.

Nijal: How’s Master Voncid?  Is he keeping that name?

Ingram: So far.  He’s… fine.

Nijal: Holy shit.

Ingram: Yeah, he should not be fine.

Nijal: His inner temple was burnt to the ground and desecrated, he should be… I don’t have a word.

Ingram: Right. But he’s fine.

Nijal: Not good. Help me with this line.

we hear metal sizzling and then something set into place.

Ingram: All coming back to me.

Nijal: Yeah, nice work.  

Ingram: Speaking of difficult interpersonal relations.

Nijal: Don’t ask me about that shit. Ask Karry or Maizon.

Ingram: They are dead.

Nijal: sigh Right. Still. Don’t ask me.

Ingram: Ok… well how about that last case, you heard anything?

Nijal: The group of face stealing murderers?  Yeah, you won’t like it.

Ingram: Oh no, what?

Nijal: Mundane.

Ingram: Get the fuck out of here.

Nijal: Totally mundane.  Not trying to summon a demon, not conducting a spell.  Not deranged Others.  Nothing.  Just six. sick. Fucks.

Ingram: Say that ten times fast.

Nijal: What?

Ingram: Nevermind… you’re sure? How?  That’s… fucked.

Nijal: The internet.  They met on the internet.

Ingram: FUCKING internet.

Nijal: Yeah, wish they hadn’t gotten to that so soon.  They were so not ready.

Ingram: They’re never ready.

Nijal: I guess not.

We hear more magical apparatus fitting in place

Nijal: You know, Luca is really good at this kind of stuff, want to call him in?

Ingram: No.

Nijal: Oh… the interpersonal thing.

Ingram: Yeah.  He low key hates me.  I don’t blame him, I’m kinda blowing up his spot.  Assisting Cid ‘cause Luca’s magic dead.

Nijal: I don’t think that’s the issue exactly.

Ingram: Ok, now we are talking, say more.  Help me.  I can’t handle the tension.

Nijal: I’ve said too much.

Ingram: You’ve said NOTHING you sociopath.

Nijal: Ask Karry.

Ingram: Still dead.

Nijal: Oh… yeah.

long beat, more tinkering sounds

Ingram: So… there’s nothing we can do?  About those murderers?

Nijal: Not by the book. Voncid has loosened up a lot of protocols but he’s holding fast on the Law of Progression.

Ingram: The lamest of all ancient laws beat wait, you said not by the book? Is there an… you know… off shelf solution?

Nijal: You didn’t hear it from me, but there’s a woman named Margot in Blades Gold.  She was Nash’s partner.

Ingram: Oh shit, how is that fucking scallywag?

Nijal: Dead.  

Ingram: What the fuck.  No one told me.

Nijal: It’s a secret society, dude.  

Ingram: Dude?  You’ve been here too long.

Nijal: Agreed, but yeah, we are between Faraday’s.

Ingram: Hope the new one’s chill.

Nijal: prying something into place What are the odds of that?

Ingram: prying something into place One in five, historically. beat Hey… why are we recording this?

sound of bar snapping into place

Nijal: We record everything now.

Ingram: How untroubling.

Nijal: Mmmhmmm

Ingram: So this Margot person?

Nijal: Yeah, let me call her.

Ingram: Seeing you with a phone is so jarring.

Nijal: Think how I feel, I hate this fucking thing.

ringing

Margot: speaker phone  You are go with Margot.

Nijal: Hey, have you perused the multiple homicide case that came in last week.

Margot: You’re gonna have to be way more specific.

Nijal: Yeah, sorry, distracted, finishing Odai’s prison box.

Margot: Wish I could be on that one.

Nijal: Not me, nasty business.  I mean the murders in Custer, South Dakota.

Margot: Sure, they cut their faces off.  Made like a game of it.

Nijal: Yeah. Old friend of mine back with the Order after some time off has a question.

Ingram: aside She sounds hot, is she hot?

Nijal: I guess.

Ingram: Nice. back full voice, trying to sound handsome.  So yeah, Margot is it?  Love the name.  Anyways, that case has been marked mundane.

Margot: That’s surprising.  Or maybe not.

Ingram: Yeah, disgusting shit, but of course, you know, there’s nothing we can do.  Right?

Margot: No.  There is nothing we can officially do.

Ingram: Right. Officially.

Margot: You said your name was Ingram?

Ingram: Yeah, Ingram Nausay, I’ll have Nijal send you my information.

Margot: Isn’t this sort of thing what got you banished?

Ingram: Rumors of my banishment have been greatly exaggerated. 

Margot: I see.

Ingram: If this thing were to be designated as even possible outside influence, I’d have a pretty good idea on how to handle it.

Margot: So would I.  

Ingram: But my way is, poetic.

Margot: What might that be?

Ingram: If, again, hypothetically, someone from the Blades were to designate this as possible demonic cult activity, or you know, something like that, I could take a quick trip to Colorado and pop by the coroner's office, or the victims' graves.

Margot: Uh huh.

Ingram: And I think the deceased could be very easily convinced to get up and go get their faces back.

Margot: How interesting.  Hypothetically.  I think someone should take a second look at that case.

Ingram: That would be really good I think. Hypothetically.

Nijal: Perfect guys.  No one listening would suspect a thing…

end