Showing posts with label Supernatural Creatures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Supernatural Creatures. Show all posts

Thursday, October 29, 2015

31 Days of Halloween Tales - The Sisters Van Helsing - Part 4




The final chapter in the tale of two sisters:


The Sisters Van Helsing
Part 4



This was not my first rodeo with the spirit world and it would most certainly not be my last but I have to admit there was a moment of doubt when I saw Richie heading towards me, jaw set, eyes clear, machete raised, but like the Victrola, the steel blade lacked substance in a metaphysical way.

Which honestly, did not make me any less afraid, I had already seen what non-physical beings had done to Mitch and if I didn't want to be jumping right behind him, I figured I had best not let my guard down for a second.

The white cloud from my breath was practically blocking my view as I strode carefully down the hall. My brain was telling me to run but I thought avoiding both Richie and the woman would be the best plan of action for me to retain my sanity. Or what was left of it anyway.

Richard was running but it was more like a slow motion movie sequence to me. He brought down the machete as I easily slipped by him and although that machete wasn't real exactly, I could have sworn I heard the swoosh of the metal as it passed by my ear.

Luckily I was slightly faster than he was. The Van Gogh look was not something I was going for.

In three long strides I reached the door to my room and grabbed the knob to go in.

Unfortunately, the door I had left slightly ajar was now shut and locked. And the key was on the other side.

"Damn it!"

Yes, I cursed again.

Ramirez and the woman laughed behind me.


While I was pretty sure the Very Odd Couple couldn't hurt me physically, 'pretty sure' wasn't something I was willing to bet on at the moment. Forgetting all hotel manners and propriety, I began to scream and bang on the  door to our room praying that my sister hadn't stuck in a pair of earplugs while I was gone on my quest to silence the music.

She hadn't.

"What the hell, Dee?"

"I forgot the key."

"Why would you leave the room without the key? It's a hotel for heaven's sake."

I thought perhaps the hallway with a deranged satan worshiping serial killer ghost coming after me wasn't the best place for this conversation so I pushed her back into the room, slammed the door, and locked all four locks.

I don't know what I thought that was going to do against someone that could clearly walk through the door, locked or not, but I wasn't thinking clearly.

"Put some clothes on. I need your help."

Lori took one look at my face and didn't argue for a change.

She pulled her jeans and shoes on and asked me what was going on. I gave her the Reader's Digest version.

"Okay. I am not too worried about the couple in the hallway. They sound resourceful but they would have hurt me when they locked the door if they could have. "

"And the Black Dahlia?"

"Her, I am a little more worried about. She has gotten inside his head and Lord knows if I can turn that around in time."

She grabbed her purse and the velvet pouch that she was never without, tucked the room key into her pocket and took my hand as we stepped back out into the hallway.

Richard Ramirez and company were gone for the moment and we hurried down the frigid hall.

The door to Mitch's room was now completely frosted over as if a winter storm had just dropped by for a visit and when I knocked, it burned my hand.

No answer.

"Do you think he already jumped?"

"No, I think we would have heard sirens if he had. Step back."

Lori and our brother Abe both have a multitude of natural abilities that for some reason I do not. They were born with them, I was born with a love for reading and black and white horror movies, along a tendency to get myself into trouble.

Lori pulled a tiny vial from the pouch, whispered what I guessed was a prayer of some sort, then sprinkled the door with the contents of the vial.

The frost immediately disappeared and when I knocked again, Mitch opened the door.

He looked worse than before, pale had faded to nearly transparent and haunted had become gaunt and dead like,  however he was still standing and was still in this physical realm which was preferable to the alternative.

Lori didn't even flinch when she saw the figure on the bed. "Your music is too loud," was all she said to her.

I bolted past all of them, keeping one eye on the ghost and the other on the guy I was currently attracted to and slammed the window shut. I figured that would give us all a couple of minutes anyway to sort this all out.

Now, I would have gone for the nasty ghoul on the bed first but apparently Lori had had enough of Nat King Cole for one evening. She walked over to the still playing Victrola ghost, spritz some holy water on the thing and it disappeared mid-chorus.

Like I said before, Lori knew her stuff.

The moment the music shut off, Mitch collapsed onto the floor and the room began to warm.

I might have expected some screaming or tantrum throwing from the spirit but there was nothing. I watched her face as I brought Mitch around and noticed she took on the pallor of melancholy where I had seen only anger and hostility before. Lori walked over to her and whispered something I couldn't hear. The girl smiled a bit, shook her head and faded into the bedspread she was lying on as if she had never been there at all.

"Remind me never to lie on the bedspread here again."

"Remind me never to let you make the reservations again."

I laughed at that. As always, my sister was right.

It took Mitch several minutes to warm up completely and come around to what I suspected was his normal self. I told the small fib that we were with the hotel and someone passing by had heard him pass out and fall inside his room. He didn't remember any of it and it was just as well.

I'll tell him the truth later. Much, much later.

He introduced himself to me as Mitch Ryder, but not that Mitch Ryder, and we both laughed at his comic genius.

I think he will fit in just fine with this family.



Wednesday, October 21, 2015

31 Days of Halloween Tales - Mr. Bubbles




A childish tale of make believe entitled:

Mr. Bubbles



He'll bubble your nose and bubble your chin,
It's so much fun when you hop in with.. Mr. Bubble.


"Why can't you see Mr. Bubbles, Mom?

Beth grinned to herself as she finished tucking in her son for the night. "I don't see him because I am a grown-up and I'm not supposed to see your invisible friends."

Jeffrey wasn't quite sure that was the truth but he wished his mom could see Mr. Bubbles.

Jeffrey played enough of the War of Worlds video game to be able to recognize a supernatural creature when he saw one and he was pretty sure that Mr. Bubbles was in fact, a water goblin.  Either way he wasn't invisible and he most certainly wasn't any friend of his.

Mr. Bubbles lived under the sink in his bathroom and liked to cause trouble.

Bad things had been happening since the appearance of Mr. Bubbles. His parents believed they were just having a run of bad luck but Jeffrey knew better. He tried to tell them about Mr. Bubbles and for a time they even pretended to believe him. Jeffrey knew however, they weren't taking him seriously.

At first Jeffrey tried to ignore Mr. Bubbles and for awhile he managed to do a pretty good job of it. Or at least until their dog Hero suddenly became sick and nearly died.

That was too much even for Jeffrey and he decided it was time to do something, dangerous or not.

That night, after everyone went to bed, Jeffrey snuck a pair of his dad's dirty socks out of the hamper and set the trap.

*****

Beth smiled as she watched her son digging outside in the yard. He was burying an old shoe box out near her flower bed.

"Buried treasure no doubt," she said to her husband. "At least he's outside getting some fresh air instead of playing video games for a change."

Rich watched his son spitting on the mound of dirt and wondered exactly what was in the box his son had buried in their yard.

He thought about the socks he saw in the laundry that morning. They were a light gray, old and faded. He had worn them on Monday he thought and then thrown them in the hamper when he got home that evening. And he was pretty sure they were fine when he tossed them in there.

But this morning when he took the clothes out to the laundry room, he could swear that he could see what looked like several tiny bloody footprints on that same pair of gray socks.

Footprints that didn't look exactly human or exactly animal. Footprints like he had never seen before.

He thought about asking Jeffrey about them and about the box in the yard but as he watched his son spit on the mound again, he decided he probably didn't want to know after all.