One Way Ticket from Hell

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  • Published: 14 Apr 2018
  • Updated: 17 May 2018
  • Status: Complete
My live has always been a hell – and, I’m not exaggerating, I don’t have any teenage-crisis. I mean, Hell, literary. I live on the suburbs, you know, a dim and gloomy place called the Valley of Destruction, and my mom is a demon specialised in tempting our dear neighbours from above – from Earth. She’s really good at it – there are many of diplomas and statues for The Demon of the Year and even some for The Demon of Century. She has even a mug with bright red letter saying “A one-way trip to Hell”. But, if it comes to tempting humans, I must say I’m the best prove she’s good.
My name is Abandon – yes, after this Abandon, mum’s a real fan of him – I’m sixteen years old and I’m a half-demon.

Entered in the monster story marathon, category: a love story.


7. It's not a good cemetary


We stay at the cemetery gate: two boys and two girls, that is three humans plus one half-demon. The gate is made from metallic bars, and the big letters above it reads “Stay in Peace”. Behind the high fence, there’s a hill bathed in moonlight, with a spots of blackness hidden underneath old, withering trees. The graves before us were just rocks with indeterminate numbers and letters chiselled on their surface.

“Come one,” Rachel pushes the gate and it opens slowly, cracking so loudly the sound could wake up the death – what I hope won’t happen, because the dead are not the type of beings you’d like to hang out in the night. The can be unpleasant, believe me.

Susan and Peter exchange hesitant looks, so I walk past them to follow Rachel. She turns on a torch; the circle of light moves very quickly from one grave to the other, jumping from one stop to another like a celestial butterfly. At first I wonder if she’s not afraid that somebody will notice it. But then I remember we’re at the old cemetery, where people haven’t been buried for at least a century, and that there’s nothing around. There’s an old park at the other side of the road, but it looks more like a forest with old benches and bins.

“All right, people. Let’s find Mrs. Marry Gray,” Rachel clasps her hands. “She should be somewhere around the fifth alley.”

We walk up the alley, and then split up. Peter volunteers to go left with Rachel, but she’s not really happy about his idea; she grabs Susan’s elbow, claiming they need to talk about some girly stuff.

So I’m stuck with Peter; we walk slowly, in an uneasy silence, lighting out way with the torches in our mobile phones. The sky upon us is dotted with stars; the moon is large and bright. The old trees, growing here and there between the graves, seem to extend their withering boughs toward us.

“Here she is,” Peter stops. He points at the grave; there’s a stone covered with moss, but the letters are still visible. “Go and get the girls. I’ll prepare the camera.”

“All right,” I turn around and go back. I’m almost at the main alley, when I notice a dark shadow moving between the tombs. I turn my head toward it, but it’s gone. I blink my eyes; it must have been just a shadow playing with my imagination. I decide to ignore it.

And soon I’m going to regret it.

About twenty minutes later we’ll all by Mrs. Gray grave. Susan and Rachel decorate it with candles and the flames glows over the moss. Peter sets the camera up; he attaches it to a holder and tells us where to place the candles, so that the light works best for our film.

“All right, let’s get started,” Rachel tells. She takes a candle, and its light plays with the shadows on her face, making her skin look like a marble. “Peter, just tell us...”

“Wait, Louis, the camera can’t see you. Get closer,” he waves at me. I move toward Rachel, and she gives me an excited smile. Peter rolls his eyes. “One, two, and three... Action.”

“Welcome to Rachel Green...”

“... and Louis Blackheart...” I add, and then we both continue together: “present ‘The Graveyard History’!”

“Our beloved city is full of interesting stories,” Rachel tells in her soft, melodic voice. “But the most thrilling and exciting can be found right there, at the Old Cemetery. So, join is and discover some of the darkest secret of our city!”

“The first story that we’d like to share with you is the history of Mrs. Marry Gray, who got accused of double murder and witchery about three hundred years ago,” I say, looking at the camera. Susan, who stays behind Peter, nods her head. It seems we’re good so far. “It was summer 1747 when a local farmer vanished in mysterious circumstances, having been last seen before he went to visit young Mrs. Gray.”

“His remains were found two days later,” Rachel says slowly. “A police officer discovered them in Gray’s basement, together with several jars containing the farmer’s heart, eyeballs, teeth and fingernails...”

Suddenly a strong gust of wind blows the candles out. Rachel cuts off; we both turn on our heels to look at the grave.

The moss, once a green sheet covering the stone, now is ripped. There are five traces that look like left by a human hand.

There’s a loud crack; I comes from the nearby tree and I look at it just in time to see something dark flying in our direction. I push Rachel away and we both fall on the ground. A broken branch hits a grave two rows further.

“WHAT’S GOING ON!?” Peter yells.

Susan starts screaming; her voice is so high-pitched it pierces into my brain and I hear nothing but it. In the next second I see a dark shadow of the shape of a man – it appears just before me, then go at Susan. The girl shrieks; she’s thrown back, as if an unimaginable force hit her, and she disappears behind the nearby grave.

“Run!” I shout.

I know what it is. An escapee. It looks like the guards of the Abyss have been lazy lately.

The ghost – because it is exactly what it is, a ghost who somehow got out of Hell – appears by us again, this time choosing Peter. It grasps the boy’s ankles and pushes him over. It starts to drag him, but then I jump to Peter and grip his hands, and start to pull him back.

I can’t stand the yelling.

The ghost resigns. Peter is free and I fall back, knocking down the camera. It hits the ground. I’m almost on my feet again, when the black shadow gathers above me like a stormy cloud, and falls at me with a force and weight I would never expect.

I can almost see the man – his face is blurred, but I see it grimaces with hatred and agony, and I punch his ribs trying to free myself. I can touch him, because demons can touch immaterial beings. Were I a human, it would be like trying to grasp a mist.

I struggle, and in the corner of my eye I see Peter runs away. I can’t get rid of the ghost. It is too heavy and too strong, and any of the fighting techniques I’ve learned work on it.

“Louis!” Rachel throws the candles at the black shape, but they go through it. “Louis!”

I let go of one on the ghost hand, and it grasps my neck. I take my phones and throw them at Rachel, then grasp the escapee misty wrist and somehow push its hand so that I can breath. But I know I can’t resist much longer.

“Take the phone! The other!” I yell at Rachel. Luckily she does what I ask. I don’t think much about what I’m doing. “Call the fist number!”

Hellish Emergency Line” I hear a female voice.

“It’s a ghost!” I roar. “A ghost attacking people...”

I track your location,” I hear in response. “The officers are on their way. Stay calm and wait...”

There’s a loud pop and two dark figures appears out of the think air. They grasp the ghost and pull it away from me. The ghost is whirling in their hands, trying to escape again. They vanish without a word. I know the procedures. They have to bring the escaped soul back to Hell as soon as possible.

I lie on the ground, breathing hard.

Do you need medical help?” asks the voice from my phone.

No, thanks,” I gasp out.

She hangs up.

I slowly sit up. The world whirls around me and I take several slow, deep breaths before it stops. I look at Rachel; she squats by Mrs. Gray’s grave wide-eyed and white-faces.

“Are you all right?” I ask quietly.

She nods her head.

“What the hell was it?!” she demands, gazing at me. “What was it?”

“Haven’t you seen? A junky,” I explain. I remember what they taught me in Hell. The mortals are naive. Their brains just reject everything that’s extramundane. I know Rachel will believe me. “We’ve been too lucky those two guys helped us.”

“Those two guys...” she repeats slowly.

“Yeah. They must have been looking for him,” I nod, feeling my neck. It’s a bit swollen and sore. I hope dad won’t notice.

“Let’s look for Susan and Peter,” Rachel tells. I nod my head, take the camera and follow her.

We find them at the gate. They wait for us by the road. Susan has a growing bump on her forehead, and Peter says she’s fainted for a few minutes. He carried her before she woke up, and they got away from the cemetery. Peter confesses he’s called the cops.

“Let’s just run away,” I propose.

“We can’t. They have my number,” he tells, red-faced. “And I kind of told them your names.”


___author's note___

Hi there! I hope you enjoy it so far. If you do, please let me know :) And if you have any advices or suggestion how I could make it better, I'll be also happy to know.

Have a wonderul day!


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