JEAPers Creepers

by Unknown

  “Why are we going this way?” Andy asked.

  “Gold mines are normally in hills. The miners dig in under the ground to get the gold.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I looked it up on the internet.”

  “Oh. Did it say anything about the ghost?” Andy’s voice sounded scared again.

  “Not about this one, but I looked up ghosts, and it said they don’t come out during the day,” Jake lied. He didn’t want Andy to back out now. If he was honest, he didn’t want to go on his own.

  “Okay.” Andy sounded happier now.

  They kept walking until they started to climb.

  “Look out for a hole in the hill, like a cave,” Jake instructed.

  It was harder to search the hill than Jake had expected. There were shrubs and trees everywhere, and any one of them could be hiding the entrance to a mine. They climbed higher up the hill, getting hot and sweaty. Suddenly Jake spied a dark area behind a large shrub. He turned to Andy and pointed.

  “Over there!”

  They rushed over and pushed the shrub aside to reveal the entrance to the mine. All thought of the ghost had gone - they were too excited.

  “Get the torch,” Jake commanded, holding out his hand. He felt like a real explorer, finding something hidden away, somewhere no one had been in a long time. Andy put the torch in Jake’s hand. Jake flicked the switch and shone the torch into the opening of the mine.

  “Wow,” Andy breathed. “It goes really deep.”

  Jake shone the torch’s beam around the mine’s entrance tunnel. “Looks safe to me. Let’s go.” He stepped into the mine, his heart pounding so hard he could hear the blood drumming in his ears. He felt Andy’s hand grab the back of his sweater, hanging on tight. He didn’t mind - it was nice to know he wasn’t alone.

  They crept slowly down the tunnel into the mine, Jake shining the torch on the ground in front of him. The deeper they went, the darker it became.

  “Is there any gold?” Andy’s voice wobbled from behind.

  Jake stopped and shone the torch on the walls. “I don’t think so. I can’t see any yellow, shiny stuff.” His eye caught a glisten from the wall. “Hang about, what’s this?”

  The boys leaned close to the wall, trying to work out what the tiny shining spot was. Jake rubbed it with his finger.

  “It’s not yellow, so I don’t think its gold.” He turned to look at Andy, and his heart almost leapt out of his chest. A light was approaching from the entrance of the mine!

  “Arrghhhh!” he yelled, and grabbing Andy’s arm, ran deeper into the mine. The light from his torch bobbed and swayed as they ran, making it hard to see where they were going. Andy was hollering behind him, yelling for their Dad. Jake’s hand hit the side of the tunnel as he ran and he dropped the torch. It hit the ground with a clunk and went out. There was a loud thump and crash behind them, and the tunnel was plunged into darkness.

  Jake crouched down and pulled Andy towards him, clamping his hand over Andy’s mouth to keep him quiet. They huddled in the darkness, terrified, waiting for the ghost light to reappear, but nothing happened. As the minutes ticked by without the light appearing, Jake’s fear began to fade and he started to think fast. Andy had stopped trying to yell and his breathing was calming down too.

  “We have to get out of here,” Jake whispered. He felt Andy’s head nod under his hand. “Can you be quiet now?” Another nod. Jake lifted his hand from Andy’s mouth and tried to feel around for the torch. His fingers hit the plastic case and he grabbed it and tried turning it on. The torch lit up, throwing a comforting glow around them. Jake stood up and pulled Andy up onto his feet.

  “Keep quiet and follow me,” Jake whispered.

  They crept back up the mine towards the entrance, watching for any sign of the ghost light. They had gone about ten yards when the beam from Jake’s torch fell on a man lying on the ground. He stopped, Andy bumping into his back.

  “It’s Mr Crawley,” Jake said, surprise wiping away any fear. “It looks like he’s hurt.”

  Andy clung to his sweater as Jake inched forward and touched the man on the ground. “I think he’s alive, but what’s he doing…” Jake stopped as the light from his torch found a smashed glass box near Mr Crawley’s hand. “It’s a lamp! Mr Crawley’s the ghost!”

  * * * *

  Jake and Andy sat on the ground in the sun outside the mine as their Dad washed Mr Crawley’s cuts with water. Jake had stayed in the tunnel with the old man while Andy ran for help. Their Dad had come and supported the old man as they walked out of the mine.

  When his cuts were all clean, Mr Crawley thanked them.

  “And I’m sorry I scared you boys,” he said. “I hope you’ll forgive me.” Mr Crawley tried to smile, but to Jake he just looked really sad.

  “Why did you do it?” Jake asked.

  “I wanted to keep the mine a secret. I found it years ago and I’ve been slowly digging deeper into the hill, hoping to find gold. I was worried if I told anyone where it was, they’d try to take it from me. I’m an old man, I’m not as strong as those who might want the mine, so I made up the ghost to scare people away.”

  “The mine’s on your land though, isn’t it?” Dad asked.

  “It is, but that wouldn’t stop the greedy people.” He looked over at the boys. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you keep my secret for me?” Jake looked at his Dad, who smiled and nodded, then looked at Andy. Andy whispered something in Jake’s ear.

  “I agree,” Jake said. He turned back to Mr Crawley. “We’ll keep your secret if you promise to show us when you find the gold.”

  Mr Crawley’s wrinkled face spread in a wide smile. “It’s a deal.”

  Molly Meeps

  William Bove

  The only thing worse than a shriek in the dark is… The only thing worse than a shriek in the dark is…

  Hmmm, Molly thought to herself tapping the pencil against her cold grey skin. “What is the only thing worse than a shriek in the dark? An oozing body pouring with puss? No no, that’s not it. What could it be?" Molly’s lips were bunched in frustration, and still no answer could be found to her question.

  Gong! Gong!

  "Oh no," Molly exclaimed! "The church bells on Lassiter Street are going off. I’ll be late."

  Molly jumped down from the crypt she was sitting on and quickly gathered her backpack and container of wet worms. She'd always found wet worms a good treat when you were working hard at new ideas for stories and stuff.

  Molly raced up the stairs and thrust the mausoleum doors open with minimal effort, and continued running as fast as her little feet could carry her. She ran out of the Gnarl Tree Cemetery toward the church on Lassiter Street.

  Lassiter Street was never really much to look at. A house here, a house there, and all the houses looked exactly the same. Right down to the shutters on the windows that were painted all the same way and all with the same color.

  The only thing truly out of place on ole' Lassiter was the church.

  Gong! Gong!

  The church bells' tones were even closer now, which meant they were getting louder and louder. Molly ran faster and faster. Her little feet had now hit the familiar site of Lassiter Street. There stood the church, looming high and proud over the rooftops of all the houses. Dirty ole thing. Have no idea what the church could have to be proud of.

  The paint was chipped. The stone used to build her was now old and cracking with age. The tower that housed the church bell was warped and cranky. Every time the wind blew hard enough the ole girl would give out such an awful groan, like a death rattle, and every time we waited for her to collapse.

  She never did collapse though. Just hung on and hung on, getting crankier and crankier with each passing year. The city council had tried to tear her down once, until they learned, after a little research, that the land She rested on was old. So that made the church a historical landmark. It’s bad to tear down a landmark. That’s just a civic no no.


  Molly ran through the small courtyard and up the steps to the church doors. All fell silent as the church bells returned to their quiet sleep once more. Molly grasped the handle tightly and opened the large door wide enough that she could slip inside.

  Moving as quietly as possible, she made her way down the center aisle, between all the pews. Candles were lit as usual at all the stations of the cross, and two stood on either end of the alter toward the end of the church.

  Her approach was soft and stealthy. Just the way she liked it. Which at the time there was no need for, because, well, no one was in the church at the time. Molly knelt down behind the altar and pulled back the simple red rug.

  Beneath the red rug lay a trap door that Molly easily opened by pushing down on the door to reveal a stairway that dropped down into darkness.

  A small “meep” escaped her lips as she looked down into the dark. The initial sight of all that

  blackness and shadow reminded her of the night sky, when no stars shone brightly, or looked down on her to light her way.

  Molly reached down and flicked the light switch, and suddenly the blackness and shadow were no more. The way down was clear, and bathed in pure warm light.

  Molly descended the staircase, which led her straight down a hallway covered in tapestries depicting various members of her own family. The gate was just ahead, and she knew, like always, there would be a price to be paid in order to be allowed to keep going.

  Just on the other side of the gate, a small ghoulish creature hunched over in a brown monk’s robe stood waiting. His shape was twisted and pudgy, and scales covered his arms, face, and hands. Two tusk like teeth sprouted from either side of his mouth and his eyes were gleaming little pools of disaster.

  This thing was always up to something, and he loved coins, which he gruntingly called shillings. Molly called him 'Ick' because that is how he always made her feel.

  “Hello Ick, and how are you doing this evening?”

  Ick merely held out his scaly little hand, sneering at Molly as he said “Coins?”

  “Here ya go Ick. I saved them special, just for you.” Molly dropped two little pennies in his hand with a smile, and waited for Ick to open the gate. The keys clanked hard inside the lock, making a cracking noise followed by a small pop, and then the gate swung open.

  “Hey Ick. What's the only thing that's worse than a shriek in the dark?”

  Ick merely grunted, shrugging his stocky shoulders at Molly as she passed by. The gates closed and locked behind her.

  Only a few more steps and I'll be home, Molly thought to herself with ever increasing excitement. And within seconds she was home.

  Home consisted of a massive root cellar that just seemed to go on for miles and miles. In fact, the giant root cellar played neighbor to many connective tunnels and neat hide outs. The entire system ran under the entire length of the town.

  Molly went quickly to her room, dropped her back pack and quickly began to munch down the wet worms. Their thick green blood was splattered all over Molly’s mouth, like a 4 year old who'd just finished a messy PB&J snadwich.

  A long and broad smile was draped across Molly’s face. She was content and happy. Wet worms made the best food for zombies in that area. The graveyard was just full of them. Easy pickings for the hungry zombie on the go, no matter what age he or she might be.

  “Molly dinner."

  "Coming mother.”

  Molly ran out of her room and into the kitchen. She plopped herself down and waited to eat. Molly’s mother eyed her curiously before passing her a nice big bowl of wet worm stew.

  “Molly were you in that cemetery again?”

  :No mother," Molly quickly replied, without thinking about her answer first. All she could see was the thick richness of wet worm stew.

  “Why Molly you’ve got grave dust all over your clothes and fingertips, and no lying to me because I see the evidence all over you.”

  "Yes, mom I was at the cemetery again. “

  Molly’s mother's face held a disapproving frown. Shrinking down in her chair a little, Molly awaited her punishment.

  “You know it’s dangerous to go there honey. The bad dead live there.”

  "I know mother.” Molly replied casually.

  “Mother,” Molly asked with enthusiasm.

  “Yes dear,” her mother replied.

  “What is the only thing worse than a shriek in the dark?”

  "Why I don’t know honey.”

  Molly sighed in frustration at her mother’s answer.

  ***

  Molly knew all about the bad dead in the graveyard; a race of wicked spirits who would stop at nothing to have hold of and control of living warm bodies. Their purpose in doing so was to have a chance at life again. They took over a human body and lived in it, all the while stealing the life from the living person. The longer they were inside the body, the more their evil face would show on the face of the living person they'd taken.

  The only way to stop the bad dead was to force them out of the body they'd chosen and back into the cemetery. Unable to survive long outside of the cemetery unless they inhabited a living body, a member of the bad dead who couldn't find a host would fall into a deep sleep from which they would not wake for at least ten years.

  Of course, the bad dead couldn't simply take over a living body without the help of a goblin box, which was a spirit box with the carved face of a mean goblin on the outside of it, all carved in black with little red eyes and a scaly tongue.

  If anything were to happen to that particular goblin box, all the bad dead that had used that box must return to it, and become trapped in the cemetery for another ten years.

  ***

  After dinner, Molly helped her mother with the dishes and then went off to bed. That night Molly had a frightening dream about the people who lived in Ravendark Manor.

  It started with a nice sunny day. Everyone was outside playing with their families and tending to their lawns, doing all the usual things that people do.

  Occasionally, some of the people would see Molly, and say hello, with big happy smiles on their faces. Then they would turn their attention back to whatever tasks or fun was at hand.

  But sometimes they would turn back to look at Molly again, and their faces would draw up into an evil grin, with long, sharpened teeth in their mouths and red blazing torment fires in their eyes. They weren’t human anymore, and Molly knew their humanness was being taken from them by the bad dead.

  As one of the men crossed the street, Molly saw him carrying a goblin box, and following close behind him was Ick, watching everything and grunting happy little grunts. Ick was behind all this? But why would he want to do this to the living people?

  ***

  Molly jerked up in bed with a shriek in the dark, that was not a shriek at all but a very impressive “MEEP”. Molly knew what she had to do. She had to save the living people of Ravendark Manor.

  She liked the living people, and couldn't just let the bad dead have all of them. The bad dead would take over Ravendark Manor for sure then. Molly went back to sleep and her dreams after that were no longer troubled.

  ***

  The next morning Molly jumped out of bed, grabbed her breakfast of warm wet worms, and ran out the door. Her mother barely had a chance to say goodbye and wish her well for her day. Molly raced down the root cellar path and hallway to get to Ick as fast as she could.

  She soon found Ick at the root cellar gate, counting all his shillings and laughing with a hiss like snicker.

  Ick jumped, startled by Molly’s approach, and dropped all the shillings in his scaly hands onto the ground.

  “Give me the box Ick. The goblin box - give it over now. I know what you've been doing - I saw it in my dreams. You are not gonna hurt the living people of Ravendark with your evil plans anymore.”

  Ick turned away, and then back to face Molly, who stood strong and determined before the pudgy little gate monster.

  Ick let out a hissing cackle.
"You will not take this box from me Molly, and the living people

  of Ravendark Manor will soon be under the control of the bad dead. Once that happens, I will be the ruler of Ravendark Manor and everything in it, as well as under it.”

  “You stole all those shillings from the living people didn’t you?” Molly said angrily.

  “Yes…yes I did. The bad dead promised them to me. They told me I could have anything I wanted from the living people, and what I want, as you well know Molly, are shillings. The more shillings the better.” Ick gloated and grunted at Molly, feeling his victory was at hand.

  The goblin box began to shake and jump in Ick’s hands. On the front of the box, the carved goblin face became real, its red eyes staring at Molly. She watched as the goblin's mouth opened, a pale green smoke emerging and slowly encircling Ick.

  Ick was growing larger and more monstrous, until he closely resembled the goblin on the box. “You are done Molly Meeps. You are through. I am going to eat you, and then when I am done, I am going to eat your mother too."

  Molly fell to the ground in defeat, her eyes wide with panic. Little grey tears pooled, and then ran from her eyes and down her cheeks. All she could think to do was to roll herself into a ball and hope that Ick would eat her quickly.

  Molly, feeling the end was near, let out one final meep.

  Then all of a sudden, Ick froze and dropped the goblin box. The face on the box had returned to that of a carving, and the smoke had returned to the box, thus returning Ick to his normal size and stature.

  Molly’s meep hadn't been the only sound to come from her body in that moment. A loud blomp sound was made, accompanied by a terrible odor that started to eat it’s way into the goblin box, warping and crunching the wood until the box was no more.