After/Life: Anger: A Paranormal Ghost Romance

by Scarlett Whispers

  “Yes,” Molly said.

  Molly was haunted by that image, of a figure only she had noticed, on the very fringes of the orb’s view. A figure lurking in the shadow of a sycamore tree.

  To anyone else, he would have appeared to be a straggler, a random passer-by interested in what was happening at the hall. But to Molly’s trained eye, there was no disguising the sinister gait and glare of the man. The way he looked left to right, occasionally answering his phone when he saw someone come too close, to engage in a fake phone call.

  This was one of Lopez’s men.

  Lopez was the puppet master, pulling his strings. They were keeping tabs on Sam and Casey. Who would be their first target? Molly didn’t know. She would have kept both Sam and Casey together if she was in charge of their protection. Instinctively, she suspected it would be Casey. She would be the one most likely to know the location of the item.

  The item.

  During all of this, Molly had forgotten about it. Such a little thing, a small shot glass with an odd tint of red to it. She didn’t know why Lopez coveted it, had killed a serving police officer for it. But Molly was determined to ensure he never got his greasy palms on it.

  “I want you to know there’s a warning attached to the rumor,” Ada said. “It’s said that anyone who escapes via the gateway and does not return will seal their own fate. If you escape, the guards will chase you. But after a certain amount of time, they will stop. The gateway will close. Then you’ll be trapped there, on Earth, forever.”

  “Forever?” Molly said.

  “A spirit cannot die,” Ada said. “And the doors to the Halfway House are open for only a certain amount of time.”

  “How long?” Molly said.

  “Some say a few days, others a month,” Ada said. “The most common number is seven. Seven days and nights. The time it took for God to build heaven and the Earth.”

  “The only way to pass through that barrier is with the aid of a guard,” Ada said.

  The thought of making a deal with one of those demons made Molly’s stomach turn cold. She shook her head.

  “They’ll never listen to me,” Molly said. “They’ll never make a deal. They’d give me a million years in here rather than do that.”

  “They will give you a long sentence,” Ada said, nodding. “You’ll become one of the longest-serving members here.”

  “But that’s only if I get caught,” Molly said.

  “To not get caught wouldn’t be wise either, I’m afraid,” Ada said. “You’ll be forced to serve out the remainder of your existence on Earth. Until the end of time.”

  Molly thought about all the millions of years she might get to see, the development of man on his journey through space and time. Perhaps even his extinction.

  Would he reach beyond the stars? Would he reach farther than any other living organism in the universe? Might he even discover some way to bring her back? Surely nothing was beyond the reach of the human imagination.

  But it would be a long, long wait. And who would she wait with? No one. Besides any other spirits like herself.

  Molly would need to consider it later, weigh up the pros and cons. She couldn’t deny the satisfaction she would get watching Sam and Casey grow old, each of them living out their own lives, having their own marriages, children, and watching them grow up…

  And then die.

  The grandchildren of the grandchildren. Until there was no more link with Sam than distant genetics.

  She would cross that ethereal bridge when she came to it.

  “Tell me everything you know,” Molly said.

  “Everything?” Ada said.

  “Everything,” Molly said.

  You never knew when a crumb of information would come in handy.

  Chapter Eleven

  According to Ada, Molly didn’t need to return to her own cell at the bottom of the great building. So long as she was in a cell by the time the door slammed shut, everything would be fine.

  Molly waited with bated breath as the door slammed into place, nervous the guards would descend down through the roof at any moment. As the minutes and then hours passed, Molly relaxed.

  They talked all through the night about the things Ada knew about the rumored escapes. Most of what she knew was second-hand information, often thrice removed, but it was better than nothing.

  Or was it?

  Sometimes knowing something was worse than not knowing. Especially if it was the wrong information. It sent you down the wrong alleyways of opportunity, closing off potential routes that might have otherwise have been profitable.

  The next morning, after the cell door had opened, Molly had nothing to do but wait. Wait for the guards to approach. Wait for her funeral to take place on Earth. There was nothing else she could do. She only hoped it wouldn’t be too long.

  However long it took, it wasn’t really up to the creatures. It was up to whenever there were enough people to think about her, and warrant a gateway to open for her. She only hoped there were enough people coming to her funeral for her to get called. She hoped they hadn’t all gone to the memorial yesterday and not bother going to the actual funeral.

  Knowing police officers the way she did, Molly had good reason to be concerned. She thought that was exactly what was going to happen. They would go to the memorial, with all its respectful pomp, and skip the actual burial ceremony.

  “They’ll be along,” Ada said as if she knew what was going through Molly’s mind.

  Molly shared a smile with her. It curled as the expression altered on Ada’s face. It turned down like she had seen something ugly and disagreeable.

  “Finally,” Molly said, turning around.

  “You’re too right there,” a deep voice said.

  Molly’s blood turned to ice. She felt the unmistakable crackle of energy as a large pair of hands gripped her by the lapels. Someone picked her up, lifted her off the ground, and threw her backward.

  Molly had suffered many acts of violence over the years and knew immediately this was different to what she was used to. She floated higher than she expected as if the force of gravity didn’t have much sway over her.

  She hit the ground with a familiar sensation, the floor scraping against her skin. She was up in an instant.

  Jennifer was some distance away, having hurled Molly twenty feet. Molly checked the cuts and grazes on her arms, legs, and head, but found it spotless. It would take some getting used to. She was no longer a living, breathing person. She was a spirit or ghost. They did not get injured.

  Molly felt the rushing, prickling sensation of electricity up and down her arms and legs. Another attack was coming. She turned, but she was too slow as two meaty fists grabbed her by the shirt and thrust her against the solid wall.

  The crackling energy was loud, powerful and harsh in Molly’s ears. It was difficult for her to hear much over its loud gyrations.

  “Hey!” another prisoner said. “We’re playing a game here!”

  Molly’s face was scrunched up, eyes closed, fearing the next attack. She could make out figures running to and fro on what was the basketball court.

  Molly kicked and punched with her legs and free hand. The other hand tore at the hand around her neck, pressing hard. But none of her blows connected. She had not learned this energy projection skill. Her blows passed through her attacker without effect.

  Molly could feel the static as the electrons raced up and down her arms and legs. Jennifer had her pinned in place. Then she lifted her up off her feet.

  “I know who you are,” Jennifer said. “It’s because of you I’m here.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Molly said.

  She struggled, pulling at the woman’s hands, but still, her limbs passed right through her. She couldn’t a grip. She was helpless. Without being able to fight back, Molly was doomed.

  “You’re a cop!” Jennifer said. “You got me locked away!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking
about!” Molly said, still struggling. “I’ve never met you before.”

  “No,” Jennifer said, pulling Molly up close, nose to nose.

  It was not a pretty face.

  “You are who I think you are,” Jennifer said. “I could never forget your face. I spent two years picturing you and what I would do to you once I got out. Of course, that never happened. But now you’re here, I see no reason not to do it to you now.”

  “Wait,” Ada said. “You can’t do this.”

  Jennifer turned to look at the small, frail figure.

  “And who’s going to stop me?” Jennifer said with a smirk. “You?”

  Ada’s eyes were watery. She stood her ground, looking nervous. Ada had said she’d never learned how to harness this power.

  “You know what,” Jennifer said. “I shouldn’t have all this fun by myself. I should make it public.”

  She lowered Molly and dragged her across the ground. Molly struggled, but her feet found no purchase. It was like the soles of her shoes were covered in grease. She could not get away.

  She panicked. The next six years of her life were going to be a real, genuine hell. Locked in a prison full of people known for committing sins. Some of them likely prisoners she had herself put away. She would get blamed for all of them.

  “Wait,” Molly said. “Don’t do this. You’re making a big mistake.”

  “No,” Jennifer said. “You’re the one who made the mistake. You’re the one who got me locked up. I think it’s about time for some retribution. Don’t you?”

  They were now in the middle of the basketball court. Jennifer turned to the players and assembled audience. She shouted at the top of her voice.

  “Listen up, maggots!” Jennifer said. “I got some news for you!”

  The other prisoners paused their game, forced to watch what was going on. The midtime show. Jennifer had their attention.

  “The reason most of us are here is we did something wrong,” Jennifer said. “To be sure, some of us did things more wrong than others. And I’m sure we’re all big enough to admit there are forces at work here that not only know us better than we do but know us better than we can know ourselves.”

  She turned to Molly, a sadistic grin on her face.

  “Why don’t you tell us what this is all about?” the large black woman from the previous day’s bust-up said. “And stop ruining our game.”

  “Fair enough,” Jennifer said. She gestured to Molly. “This is the woman who sent me here. She’s the one who got me knifed inside. She’s the reason I’m here. She’s a cop.”

  She relished saying the last word as if it would cause a stampede of hate to rain down upon Molly. She wasn’t to be disappointed. More than one pair of eyes drifted down to Molly. A couple cracked their knuckles. Yes, Molly thought. The next six years were not going to be fun at all.

  “I’ve always wanted to beat me up a pig,” one of the other prisoners said.

  “She got no chance now,” another one said.

  “Shame she can’t get wounds here,” another prisoner said.

  “No, but she can still feel pain, and plenty of it,” another prisoner said. “I’ll make sure of that.”

  They fell upon Molly, grabbing at her clothes. They pulled back their fists. Half a dozen were aimed at the head right now. She was about to get the worst beating of her life. It would leave no visible wounds and would not shed blood. The worst of it, the pure pain, would slam through every fiber of her being.

  None of the prisoners seemed all that concerned about the guards now. She supposed they were each of them happy to pay a penance if it meant they could get a little retribution for what they could blame Molly for. It was always easier to blame someone else rather than yourself. Being inside had not changed the attitudes of these people.

  “Stop,” a voice said.

  The prisoners turned to look at who had spoken. It was Ada, diminutive in stature and yet, there was something about her that attracted the eye. A sense of command.

  “You can’t take her away from us,” Jennifer said. “She belongs to me.”

  “I have the longest sentence amongst anyone here,” Ada said. “I suggest you all let her go unless you want to add an extra twenty years to each of your sentences.”

  “She’s bluffing,” Jennifer said. “She won’t do that. She’s afraid of leaving this place.”

  “Except there are always more prisoners willing to give up their sentences,” Ada said. “If you don’t let this girl go right now, I promise I will hound each and every one of you, forcing the guards to give you twenty years each. What do I care how long my sentence is? I intend on being here forever anyway.”

  “She’s bluffing!” Jennifer said. “You can’t believe a word she says!”

  But more than one pair of eyes drifted up to the Countdown Counter, up to the top lefthand corner. Where Ada’s sentence was. In prime position.

  “Do what you have to,” Ada said. “But don’t expect there to be no repercussions.”

  The other prisoners looked at each other, out the corner of their eyes. They were weighing up how good they would feel in getting retribution on Molly and the extra time they would have to serve in order to pay for it. An extra twenty years in this place? Was it worth it? Almost certainly not. They stood down, moving aside.

  At the sight of the prisoners taking a step back, out of the way of aggression, Jennifer didn’t look quite so confident. She was angry, her face contorted with rage. She glared at Molly, who kept her face dead of emotion. The last thing she needed right now was to provoke her further. She kept her eyes down. The same way you would with a rabid dog.

  Jennifer clenched her fist, knuckles white. She gripped Molly even tighter. Molly could feel the rattle and crackle and pop of electricity. She shut her eyes. She did not need to see the first blow land.

  Then the fist relaxed, her clothes releasing. Molly fell to the ground. She was panting, out of breath, though she knew it had nothing to do with her body’s reaction to the event. It was all in her mind.

  Jennifer marched away, arms swinging. She could have passed through a nearby group of ghosts but instead, she knocked them aside. Like a wrecking ball.

  Molly got to her feet and looked at the other prisoners. They were looking at her uncertainly, repulsion painted on their features.

  “Thank you for that,” Molly said.

  “For what?” Ada said.

  “For saving me,” Molly said. “I’m not sure how I could cope with six years of this.”

  She shook her head. The idea was nightmarish enough.

  “My dear girl,” Ada said. “I haven’t saved you. I’ve only temporarily delayed the inevitable.”

  “What do you mean?” Molly said. “They backed down.”

  “Today, yes,” Ada said. “But how long do you think it’ll be before one of them gets angry and want someone to take it out on? Before one of them doesn’t care about the repercussions of their actions? You will get pummeled. It’s just a matter of when.”

  Ada was, Molly realized, correct.

  “Great,” Molly said. “Nice to know I have something to look forward to in this place.”

  Now, she had no choice. She had to get out of this place. Either stay and get tortured every day for the rest of her sentence, or try and escape. Molly had never been much of a victim. She didn’t intend on starting now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Molly was both thrilled with the idea of seeing Sam and Casey again, and yet consumed with terror at what might happen to her if things went wrong. It was a heady mix. She didn’t know if the plan she had developed with Ada would work, and she hadn’t yet decided if she would attempt it.

  That afternoon, Molly returned to Ada’s room and lay on her bed. She thought about Sam. How big his hands were, how strong. She always felt safe in his arms. Despite being so physically powerful, Sam didn’t like to show off, nor use it unnecessarily. That was one of the things that attracted her most to him. He never felt t
he need to pretend.

  Molly felt a quiver deep inside herself and recognized it immediately. Despite everything, she was still alive. She could still feel emotions. She was not a robot.

  She closed her eyes to make it easier to pretend Sam was with her. She ran her hands over her body. Her breath came low and rasping. It felt good to be touching herself. To feel alive. Even if just for a moment.

  Molly opened herself up to how Sam had always wanted to please her. She ran her hands down her body, to the soft wetness between her legs. She settled in, getting comfortable. She touched herself gently, flicking with her fingertips. She began slow, knowing how to please herself. She’d been at this for quite some time.

  Then, once she was ready, she slid inside herself. She rubbed there, right there, pressing and adding pressure. She didn’t care if anyone saw her. Right now, she was with Sam, alone with him. They could do all the things they wanted. And in her imagination, they would do everything she wanted.

  Molly sped up, letting herself feel the flow, her ecstasy coming in and out between her lips. She imagined Sam on top of her, feeling his weight pressing down.

  She turned on her side and emulated the positions Sam most often favored. She rocked back and forth, feeling the excitement rise in her chest. She rubbed more vigorously, until she could feel the great wave approaching, on the brink. She allowed herself to crash on the other side, and let her body quiver and shake, calm after the storm.

  Molly felt sated, relieved like she’d been holding her breath for the past few hours. She reached out and touched the other side of the bed. Where Sam should have been. And in that moment, her moment of weakness, she cried.

  She would never feel Sam’s hands on her again. Eventually, she would forget what it felt like to be in his embrace, how his icy blue eyes, so full of passion, made her feel. That was what Ada had said, that she had forgotten her old life, that it felt like a dream. And around the old woman’s mouth and eyes, were wrinkles of regret. Molly had them too.

  She regretted not telling Sam how much she loved him, every minute of every day. Her heart ached for him now, ached for his presence. If she ever got back, she would tell him she loved him. She would let him know how much he meant to her.