The Gravest Girl of All

by Amy Cross

  “How do I stop Abberoth?” she asks again.

  “If I knew that,” he replies, “do you really think we'd be in this predicament in the first place? I tried everything. I fought against him for centuries, but he was too strong. Punishing him in Hell was a huge mistake, it only made him stronger and smarter. He absorbed everything and then one day he turned around and used it against me. By the time I understood the seriousness of his challenge, it was too late. Now he rules everything, he's got a firm grip on reality itself. That's the mark of true power, you know. Existing outside of reality, even for a moment, is something I used to do easily. These days, I don't remember how to do it. Abberoth will learn soon enough, though. I daresay Hell won't be enough for him, either. Who knows where he'll stop?”

  “Which is why we have to stop him.”

  He shakes his head.

  “Then you're a coward,” she replies, “and I'll do it myself.”

  “I admire your pluck.”

  “I don't know how I'll do it,” she explains, “but I'll figure something out. I don't even need your help, anyway. He's already killed me once, so I know what doesn't work. Faraday left a load of books and -”

  “Bunkum.”

  “Some of them have to be useful.”

  “Your faith in Faraday is admirable,” he adds, “but it's ill-founded. The man was a complete fool, and I'm sure all his books and texts are just more examples of idiotic human superstition. If you rely on them to save the world, even to save yourself, then you'll lose and you'll end up back here, and next time I might not be here to save you.” He pauses, before stepping closer to her. “Reconsider. Let me take your heart back out.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Come with me,” he continues. “I don't know where, but we'll find somewhere. And Sam, I know this might sound crazy, but if you like I can even fetch -”

  And then she's gone, in the blink of an eye.

  He stares straight ahead, at where she was, and then a distant rumble of thunder shakes the floor as he realizes that Sam must have returned to Rippon. He opens his mouth to wish her good luck, but at the last second he stops himself. He knows she's long gone now, and he figures it's time for him to leave as well. He was ready to go earlier, before he rescued Sam, but now he's not going to let anything stand in his way.

  “Time to get out of here,” he mutters, but he still hesitates for a moment, watching the spot where Sam once stood. Finally, however, he heads over to a table at the far end of the room, where his meager possessions are laid out next to a small bag.

  He starts slipping the items into the bag, ready to take them and walk away from Hell itself, but at the last second he stops as he picks up something that he doesn't even remember saving from Rippon: pieces of an old cardboard coaster that Sam once absent-mindedly tore up in the cafe, and which he then gathered together.

  He hesitates again, and then – as a crack of lightning splits the sky outside and a rumble of thunder fills the air – the Devil closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

  “Damn you, Samantha Marker,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Damn you to Hell and back.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Reconsider,” the Devil says, sounding a little more earnest now. “Let me take your heart back out.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Come with me,” he continues. “I don't know where, but we'll find somewhere. And Sam, I know this might sound crazy, but if you like I can even fetch -”

  And then he's gone, in the blink of an eye.

  “What the -”

  Looking around, Sam suddenly realizes that she's no longer in his rundown little home in Hell. She blinks again, recognizing the familiar sight of the cemetery cottage, and in particular its kitchen. And then, just as she realizes that she's made it back to Rippon, a wave of dizziness washes over her and she stumbles back, slumping against the wall and then slithering down to the ground as all the strength fades from her body.

  “Damn it!” she gasps breathlessly, as she feels the entire world spinning around her.

  For a couple of minutes, the dizzy sensation gets stronger and stronger, but eventually the worst begins to fade. After a few more minutes, Sam finds herself sitting all alone on the floor, and then finally she grabs the side of the counter and hauls herself back to her feet. The dizziness returns for a few more seconds, almost sending her slumping back down, but this time she forces herself to grip the counter-side more strongly and – somehow – she's able to stay on her feet.

  Looking out the window, she sees the dark cemetery. She figures she must have arrived at night, but then she notices that the clouds look particularly dark and stormy, and she watches as leaves are blown along the path. Somehow, deep down, she can already tell that this is more than just an ordinary night, and then she spots a fraction of sunlight trying to break through the storm-clouds. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she sees that it's a little after twelve.

  Midday, she figures, rather that midnight.

  A moment later, she hears a shuffling sound coming from one of the other rooms in the cottage.

  “Anna?” she whispers, before turning and hurrying to the doorway and looking through into the kitchen. “Anna, is that you?”

  She immediately feels a rush of relief as she sees Anna walking past, heading toward the front door. Never in all her life has she felt so pleased to see someone.

  “Anna, it's me!” Sam shouts, rushing after her and stopping to watch as her friend slides the latch across, locking the door. “Anna, I'm back! How long was I gone? Anna, you have to fill me in on everything that's been happening! We've got a serious amount of work to do!”

  Instead of replying, Anna double-checks that the door is secure and then she turns and heads into one of the other rooms. She seems dulled, maybe bored, and listless in her gait. It's almost as if she's given up and is simply waiting for the end.

  “What's wrong?” Sam asks, walking after her. “You're not sulking, are you? Come on, Anna, there's no time for that! I've literally been in Hell for the past... I don't know how long, but it felt like eternity. I'm back now, though, and we need to go through Faraday's books again! We need to find something that'll tell us what to do and -”

  Stopping suddenly as she reaches the doorway, she sees that there's a body on one of the tables, and a convenient flash of lightning briefly illuminates the sides of the body's dead face. She's used to seeing the bodies of the elderly on the cottage's preparation table, and occasionally even the bodies of younger Rippon residents, but now she sees the unmistakable features of one of the few people in town who she actually knew.

  “Scott?” she whispers, watching as Anna stops and reaches down to touch his cheek. “Anna... What happened?”

  Still getting no reply, she takes a couple of steps into the room. Scott's clearly dead, that much she can tell, and when she looks at Anna she sees tearful, sorrowful eyes.

  “What happened to him?” Sam asks cautiously, aware that Anna's heart must be breaking. “Anna, what's going on here? Why are you ignoring me?”

  “I wish Sam could be here,” Anna whimpers, still staring down at Scott's face as she strokes his cheek. “She'd know what to do. She wouldn't have let you go out hunting for food, and even if she did, she'd know to make sure you could defend yourself.” She pauses for a moment, and a tear falls down onto Scott's hand. “I should have come with you. You said you'd be fine alone, but I shouldn't have believed you. Wherever you are now, please, you have to believe me. I never thought anything like this could happen.”

  She sniffs back more tears.

  “First Sam, now you,” she adds. “I guess I've just got to wait for the end of the world. Maybe it'll be quick, and we'll all be spared any more suffering. I mean, it seems to be inevitable, so we might as well get it over with.”

  “Anna, I'm right here,” Sam says, hurrying over and stopping on the other side of the table. She looks at Anna for a moment, before reaching out and clicking her fingers l
oudly. “Look at me!” she says firmly. “Anna, I'm right in front of you! Come on, I know you're not the most observant person in the world, but this is ridiculous! I'm right here, and the world's not ending! We're going to save it!”

  She waits, before snapping her fingers again.

  “Anna!” she shouts. “Look at me!”

  Instead of responding, however, Anna merely breaks into a series of loud, heavy sobs as another rumble of thunder rattles the glass in the windows.

  “This is ridiculous,” Sam says with a sigh, “you're acting like I'm a -”

  Stopping suddenly, she feels a cold flash of realization hit her in an instant. In a flash, her mind reels from the awful possibility.

  “You're acting like I'm a ghost,” she whispers finally, watching as Anna continues to cry. “Like I'm a... I'm a...”

  She pauses again.

  “Like I'm a ghost,” she adds. “I made it back, but I'm a ghost.”

  And then she remembers the Devil's words:

  “It'll take a little while for you to phase back to Rippon,” he'd told her. “Then you'll need to get your body dug up, and you won't have much time. If you take too long, there's a danger that you'll complete the final phasing and you'll end up trapped in your grave, buried alive. Unfortunately, this time you wouldn't die. You'd just be stuck down there, getting eaten slowly by worms over many years. Then, eventually, you'd end up right back here.”

  “I'm a ghost,” she whispers. “I'm a real, actual, live ghost. Well, not live, but I'm a ghost.”

  She pauses again, as she feels a growing sense of panic starting to rise through her chest. After a moment, panicking, she starts patting her own chest and shoulders with her hands. For a moment, she tells herself that this is a good sign, that if she can feel herself then she can't be a ghost. Quickly, however, she realizes that logic isn't going to save her.

  “Anna,” Sam says finally, “you have to listen to me! You have to hear me! Anna, I'm right here but I'm a ghost!”

  Rushing around the table, she tries to grab Anna's arm, only for her hands to pass helplessly through her friend's flesh and bone. She tries again, still with no luck, before taking a step back as a shocked expression begins to cross her face. Looking down at her hands, she tries to figure out what to do next, and then she reaches out and touches the top of the counter.

  “I can feel that,” she stammers. “I can touch things, just not people!”

  She hesitates, before spotting an old glass jar at the far end of the counter. Without even thinking, she reaches out and knocks the jar, sending it skittering over the edge and then watching as it smashes down to the floor.

  Spinning around, Anna stares down at the pieces of broken glass.

  “That was me!” Sam yells. “Now do you know I'm here?”

  She waits, but Anna simply watches the glass for a moment before slowly starting to look around the room.

  “It's me!” Sam says, grabbing another glass and knocking it down.

  “Woah!” Anna shouts, stepping back until she bumps against the wall, with an expression of genuine fear on her face.

  “Come on, figure it out,” Sam continues, before grabbing the door and pulling it open, then slamming it shut again.

  “Who's there?” Anna shouts, grabbing the nearest thing – a rolling pin – and holding it up to defend herself. “Show yourself!”

  “It's me!” Sam says again, before hurrying over to her and leaning toward her face. “It's Sam!” she shouts. “I'm right here! I'm -”

  Before she can finish, Anna suddenly steps forward and passes straight through her.

  “That was weird!” Sam gasps, shocked for a moment before turning and seeing that Anna has headed over to take a closer look at the door.

  “Is anyone there?” Anna calls through nervously to the next room, before turning and looking back into the room. “It was the wind,” she adds finally, and then she sighs and sets the rolling pin down. “Don't get jumpy, Anna. And don't start talking to yourself. It was just the wind.”

  “It wasn't the wind!” Sam says firmly. “It was me! I'm not wind!”

  Looking around, she spots some more jars on another counter and immediately pushes them over the edge, sending them crashing to the floor. Then, seeing a few more, she sends those flying too, with such force that some of them smash into the cabinets on the other side of the room.

  “Do you think that was the wind too?” she asks.

  “Must have been the wind,” Anna says.

  “Damn it, I don't have time for this!”

  Looking around for something else she can use to get Anna's attention, Sam is momentarily lost for ideas. Then, spotting a half-empty bottle of brown sauce, she hurries over and starts using the sauce to daub huge letters on the wall, spelling out three words:

  Dig me up!

  As soon as she's done, she turns and sees that Anna has already wandered aimlessly through to the other room. Sighing, she tosses the bottle of sauce aside and then grabs the rolling pin, using it to bang the counter until finally Anna comes back through to investigate the new noise.

  “Now do you see?” Sam shouts, still hitting the counter. “This can't be the wind, can it?”

  “What the hell?” Anna whispers, transfixed by the sight of the rolling pin.

  “Now read!” Sam continues, swinging the pin around and using it to point at the words on the wall, tapping the end against the letters for added emphasis. “Figure it out, Anna! This isn't rocket science!”

  “Dig me up?” Anna reads out loud, as she steps over to take a closer look.

  “Dig me up!” Sam says firmly.

  “Huh,” Anna continues. “I never noticed this before.”

  “That's because it wasn't there before!”

  “It's weird that the rolling pin's just floating around,” Anna adds, looking down at the pin that's still in Sam's hands. “I guess maybe weird stuff just happens when the world's about to end.”

  “You've got to be kidding me!” Sam yells, raising the pin and almost tapping it against Anna's head, before managing to restrain herself. “Whoever knew that being a ghost was such hard work?”

  Throwing the pin aside, she grabs the bottle again and writes some new words on the wall:

  It's me! It's Sam, I'm a ghost and I need you to dig me up!

  “Okay,” she mutters under her breath, turning to see that Anna's watching. “There's nothing vague about that. Get a shovel and start digging.”

  She waits, but Anna simply stares at the writing with an expression of stunned disbelief and then, finally, tilts her head slightly like a dog.

  “A ghost?” she whispers finally, before starting to look around the room. “Who would write something like that? Who'd pretend to be Sam?”

  “It's me!” Sam yells, stopping right in front of her and shouting straight into her face. “Look at me!”

  “Sam?” Anna says, looking around. “Are you really here? Sam, if you're here, give me a sign!”

  “I just gave you a sign!” Sam shouts, starting to lose her patience. “I gave you about a hundred signs!”

  “Sam! Give me a sign if you're here in the room!”

  “Read the wall! That's not a sign! It's detailed instructions!”

  “Sam, are you here?”

  Dropping the sauce bottle, Sam clenches her fists as sheer fury starts to ripple through her body. She watches as Anna starts walking slowly across the room with her hands stretched out.

  “Where are you?” Anna asks, heading in completely the wrong direction. “All I need is a sign, Sam.”

  With that, she wanders into the next room.

  “This is ridiculous,” Sam seethes. “This is...”

  Suddenly she lets out a gasp as she feels a little dizzy. Stepping back, she tries to steady herself, but for a moment everything becomes dark and she feels as if she's tilting to one side. And then, with no warning, she realizes she's flat on her back and surrounded by icy darkness.

  “What th
e -”

  She tries to sit up, only to find that she's being pressed down. Trying not to panic, she tries to turn away, only to discover that she'd wedged into some kind of small space and that she can't even move so much as an inch. Figuring that somehow she must just have lost her sight for a moment, she tries to turn around, but still she finds that she's wedged tight, almost as if she's in...

  “A grave,” she whispers.

  She tries again and again to move, but the crushing weight of soil keeps her completely immobile.

  “Please no,” she stammers, as crumbs of dirt start falling into her mouth. “No, I can't be down here. Anna, you have to come and dig me up! I'm not -”

  And then, just as suddenly as she found herself down in the grave, she slumps forward and bumps against the wall. Back in the cottage, she gasps for air for a moment.

  “Sam?” Anna calls out in the next room. “Are you here?”

  “I don't have long,” Sam stammers, trying to figure out what to do next. “I don't have time for this.”

  Stumbling through into the other room, she looks around for something, anything, she can use to attract Anna's attention. Spotting some more cups and glasses, she hurries over and shoves them off the side. When that doesn't work, she looks around for something else, and then finally she sees an old sheet drying on a clothes horse. She hesitates for a moment, then she grabs the sheet and throws it over her own head. She knows the plan is desperate, but by this point she's all out of non-desperate ideas.

  “Now do you see me?” she asks, turning to follow Anna but – unable to see where she's going – immediately bumping straight into the wall.

  Pulling the sheet off, she sees that Anna is now back in the first room. Grabbing some scissors, Sam quickly cuts two crude eye-holes in the sheet and then puts it back on. Now able to see properly, she makes her way through to the next room and sees that Anna is once more reading the words on the wall as if they're some kind of puzzle.

  “I'm right here,” Sam says, before banging her fist on the counter before grabbing the brown sauce bottle and throwing it across the room.