Grave Danger (4 page)

It was Richard who answered her. “Most of the living
can’t see us,” he explained, “or more likely they don’t want to see
us. But some of them are intuitive enough to see beyond their own
barriers of reasoning.” He rubbed a hand along his otherworldly
chest. “We don’t exactly fit into what is normal to them. Most
think of us as a novelty item or only fit to be seen on ghost tours
or in the movies. They never imagine us as humans existing
alongside of them day after day.”

“
I have to say that I was probably one of
them,” Clarissa admitted to them all, though she wasn’t sure that
was entirely true. She had to wonder if she wasn’t excepting all of
this too easily. “The idea of a ghost just seems too fantastical to
be reality.”

“
And yet here we are,” Eleanor spoke as she
reached out and put her hand over Clarissa’s, patting it in
understanding. “We are very real, indeed.” Being dead wasn’t easy,
she could attest to that from personal experience. But she knew it
was the comfort of friends like Henry and pseudo-bad-ass Richard
that kept her from a lonely and tortured afterlife. Even Mrs.
Connors was a blessing. Through her, she could still be a part of
the living world.

Just then their orders came up. Richard exclaimed
triumphantly as his beer came floating down to land on the table
top in front of him along with a mammoth burger and a plate of
fresh steaming fries, lightly salted. A Ketchup bottle manifested
itself on the table too. More plates and mugs floated down from
above like manna from heaven as Clarissa watched wide eyed at the
spectacle.

Clarissa picked up her own glass as she watched
Richard tear into his burger with the gusto of an animal or a
teenage boy. It felt solid and very real in her hands. It was even
icy cold, as it should be. Taking a hesitant sip of her beer she
realized it even tasted real. Amazing, she thought.

Henry took a big bite of his burger and turned to
look at Clarissa. He swallowed before he spoke. “Tastes pretty good
doesn’t it? You should try the food.”

Clarissa picked up her burger from the plate in
front of her, bringing the tantalizing monster slowly to her mouth.
She took a small, hesitant size bite. As the spectral food touched
her taste buds she could feel their collective gazes on her,
watching as she tried her first ghost meal. She chewed the very
tangible food around in her mouth before swallowing. Putting the
burger down on the plate, she looked at each of them, reading in
their faces their excited expectation for some response.

“
It’s very good,” she appraised the food, “I
don’t think I could have made it better myself. The living chefs
have nothing on Clare’s cooking.”

They all smiled and laughed in agreement before
returning to their own food and drink. There was little
conversation as the four of them devoured their meal.

Just as they were almost finished, several spectral
staff members from the tavern came through the kitchen door, coming
over to stand in a formation around their table. They all had very
welcoming expressions of their ghostly faces as they gazed down at
Clarissa, the newest citizen of their community.

Clarissa knew she would likely forget their names as
they introduced themselves to her, but at least she might remember
their faces if she met them again. In turn, each spoke welcoming
words, saying how glad they were that she would be staying on in
their city.

Then as a surprise, Josh presented her with a small
round chocolate cake.

“
We had Clare make it up especially for you,”
Josh said with tender smile, as his laid the cake in front of her.
“If there’s anything we can do, don’t hesitate to ask.” Then he
stepped back with the others as they broke out in song.

It was a sweet little number, a celebration of
ghost-hood. Clarissa enjoyed their performance immensely and
thought that the group of ghostly singers all rather talented.
Likely some of the staff had been professional vocalists in
life.

When they finished, Henry, Clarissa and Eleanor
clapped in approval as did several of the other dead patrons in the
restaurant. Richard clapped grudgingly out of respect. He didn’t
care for the style of music which was more like old timey barber
shop.

“
Thank you all so much,” Clarissa exclaimed,
looking between the tavern staff and the three ghosts at the table.
“I’m really glad I came to this city.” She looked down at the
lovely cake. “And this is the proverbial frosting on the cake. You
all have been extremely generous to someone you don’t even
know.”

Josh looked down at the sweet young woman, seeing
glowing moisture in her ghostly eyes. He had been younger than her
when he had died. He understood what it felt like to have the
threads of life cut so short of your expectation. “That’s what
being a part of this community is like. We take this deathly
existence in stride and see to it that no one feels alone or
unappreciated.”

“
Even jerks like Richard here,” Henry
interjected. “He might be as annoying as hell, but he is still one
of us and we don’t forget that.”

Richard rolled his eyes at their melodramatic
speeches. “I feel so loved right now, old man,” he said snidely.
“Hurry, get me a tissue. I think I’m leaking,” he cried out in
ridiculous Richard dramatics.

Clarissa just smiled. Their bantering just made this
existence that much more normal and human. She glanced down at her
cake again, taking in the little masterpiece. As a centerpiece the
cake had on it a small pink skull, smiling up at her in welcome. In
the empty eye sockets were red roses fringed with ice blue coloring
on the ends of each petal. Made from candied sugar, the skull was
more sweet and girly than gruesome. The cake itself was covered in
a thick chocolate frosting. Tiny sprinkles made into the shapes of
arm bones, leg bones and skeletal feet were arranged over the
surface. The sprinkles were also died pink to match the skull.

“
Do you mind if I try a piece of that,
Clarissa?” Richard asked with a boyish looking hopefulness on his
face. He was a charmer underneath that blowhard, punk attitude.
There was likely a very sweet and endearing side to Richard. It
would just take the right person to bring that side out of
him.

“
Sure,” she answered, pushing it toward the
middle of the table. “Actually,” she continued. “You should all try
some of this.”

And with those words several silver spoons and forks
materialized on the table. Clarissa looked to the staff, telling
them to try some as well. They didn’t decline her offer. Clare made
the best spectral food in town.

Eleanor removed the pretty pink skull from the top
of the cake, setting it on a black and gold napkin. “This is too
pretty to eat. I’ll just set this here and you can take this home
with you.” Then she picked up her own utensil and scooped up a
large piece of delicious confection.

They devoured the cake until there was nothing but
crumbs left on the crystal plate.

Chapter 3-

Henry and Clarissa left
Happy Haunts
a quarter before midnight. The night
air would have likely chilled them if it weren’t for the fact that
they were already dead. Richard and Eleanor had eagerly accepted
the responsibility of taking Clarissa around town tomorrow; showing
her the ropes of this afterlife.

The Eidolon Community of St. Augustine went to great
lengths to create and maintain a valued lifestyle for its citizens,
to co-exist in this world with the living, who for the most part,
went unaware of their influence in the old city. They watched out
for the livings, keeping those who would harm them from taking
complete control of their world.

The dead needed the living. Henry had explained to
Clarissa that for the ghosts it was a matter of business. With no
living customers to sell to, then there were no profits to buy the
lifestyle the ghosts needed to assimilate into living culture;
tangible items that connected them with the livings.

It worked out as well that the livings profited from
the ghosts, increasing tourism to the area by their presence alone,
putting money in everyone’s pockets. It was a solid partnership
that benefited all.

Unfortunately, all was not at peace in the Sun Shine
State. Henry and the rest of the Eidolon community couldn’t escape
from the others. In recent years, the citizens and tourists of the
oldest city had to contend with other deadly residents, ones that
could leave this city in tatters if left unchecked. The monsters of
this world were never far from their doorsteps. For those living in
the city of St. Augustine, the monsters resided across the ancient
Bridge of Lions on Anastasia Island.

The flesh-eaters, zombies to the livings, had staked
their claim on the area centuries ago. When the European settlers
ventured out to explore a new and strange world, the stories of the
flesh-eaters were written along with theirs. The land was caste in
magick, dark forces best left alone. The wars and bloodshed that
was so much a part of the first decades of this community stirred
up the magick and created a monster.

The numbers always began as a select few. And then
like a cancerous cell, their numbers grew. Those livings who first
tried to make a home in St. Augustine were confronted by this
creature, taking a number of them to their graves.

It was believed by many residents in St. Augustine
that the flesh-eaters of today were created as a curse to the white
men and women who forced the natives from their homes. The land
itself created these monsters. The magic of the ancient ones making
what once was human into a soulless killer. But even such theories
are questionable.

The search for the genesis of the flesh-eater was in
some respects as conflicted as the search for the creation of
mankind itself. Henry and the others couldn’t fully comprehend the
beasts and though they tolerated them they believed them more than
evil. They and others believed these creatures as cursed or damned.
Some friendlier thoughts were that they were lost and confused
bodies searching for completion. Much like the ghosts they were
forced to take the hand dealt to them by death. Manage the best way
they know how to survive. What was clear and undeniable to those in
the know was that these creatures did exist in our world.

Their reign in this city had seemed unending. But
every predator was susceptible to another. The hierarchy of nature
combated this threat with the creation of a higher authority. The
death dealers or death bokor enacted the blow that all but
extinguished the flesh-eaters, driving them from the city, putting
to rest the damned and soulless.

For two hundred and sixty years there had never been
a flesh-eater in St. Augustine. Until one day, approximately
thirty-eight years ago, when a clan of them moved themselves back
in to the oldest city. They planned to stay for good this time.

With the need for death dealers so low after the
years of peace, at this critical time for the city there were none
to be found. Drastic measures had to be considered for the safety
of the larger population. So a bargain was struck between the two
communities, the souls with no bodies and the bodies with no souls.
Each would share the city and the living that passed through it.
The livings had to be sacrificed for the good of all. It was a fact
that Henry and the others rarely liked to dwell on, simply sweeping
the truth under the rug where the cover of darkness could keep the
bloody stains from view.

“
Do you think we would be bothering Mrs.
Connors, showing up like this at her home so late at night? It’s
almost midnight and she’s likely already in bed asleep.”

Henry and Clarissa turned down a narrow side street.
Mrs. Madeline Connors lived a few blocks west of Grace Methodist
Church, a short walk from the historic downtown.

“
No,” Henry assured Clarissa. “Maddy stays up
later than most. She’s a bit of a night owl. And besides, I called
earlier telling her that I thought you’d be coming home today. She
will be up and waiting for us to arrive, I’m sure.”

Clarissa took in his words about coming home,
rolling them around in her brain for a few minutes. The thought of
being welcomed home struck an emotional chord inside her. She
couldn’t remember ever having another home and this place just felt
right to her deathly senses.

A mid-October breeze ruffled Clarissa’s hair,
blowing it in her face, tickling her nose. She brushed it away,
scratching her nose out of habit. The night was eerily quite as
most of the locals had already secured themselves in the safety of
their homes. She noticed this but didn’t think it odd that the
streets were for the most part empty of people, living or dead.
Clarissa never imagined there was any other reason for the change
in atmosphere.

But the truth of the night was far from pleasant.
Clarissa didn't wasn’t yet aware that when the sun sank away from
the city those who controlled the day turned ownership over to the
creatures of the night. Anyone foolish enough to disregard the
changeover had the misfortune of being swiftly and expertly
swallowed up, consumed by the dark. And when light came, never
heard from again.

A group of tourists on a walking ghost tour stood at
an intersection, all their gazes looking up at one of the old Bed
and Breakfasts. The tour guide was re-telling one of many ghost
stories about the city, specifically one involving poltergeist
activities in one of the rooms. The young man continued,
captivating his audience with a story of his own encounter with the
paranormal world. Everyone loved a good ghostly tale, as evidenced
by the numerous livings who shelled out the cash to hear them.