Hearing the noise they feared the vibrations under their feet. Her father was dead. Any chance at a decent honeymoon gone. All he thought was darkness and the presence of dead approached from the adjacent room. A scowl followed with eyes of a powerful, insensitive ghost. Her leaned form of walking consisted of abrupt jerks, as if she was relearning how to walk all over again. She was an instrument of the unknown, carrying a crazy smile and wandering expressions. After I realized the intelligence it had I decided we had to go. I grabbed my wife and we ran.
Fluid leaked from her leg. Her lips, dry and fracked. Her eyes lacked pupils, only displaying an ivory gateway into her face. My heart beat fast. My chest was burning as we ran down the stairs, drenched by our sweat. Her inflexible darkness was exquisite. The noise was obscene, cries. After a short pause to catch our breath we ran through the chapel. The man saw this from his office and hid. The front door? locked. Her eyes wandered as she entered the chapel. Her paleness possessed by the luminescence of a raged spirit. Entering the lobby, she walked towards us, shifting her feet. Her skin hung like a long heavy winter coat. Out of nowhere came a loud pop. It sounded like a balloon burst. That sound had pieces of flesh and bone in its wake, splattering across my face. The body fell to the floor.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” the old man said. The powerful smell in the vicinity was indisputable. His natural frankness was surprising.
“I thought I said no more kills,” a man said as he entered the parlor. His ice blue eyes, long bleach blonde hair was almost startling. He extended his hand. “Forgive my assistant. Shall we?” he said motioning me and my wife to his office. “You have seen a lot tonight eh? I know you’re terrified and confused all at the same time.”
“What was that?”
“A confused spirit.”
In my silence I was trying to dissect this situation. Life or monster - a doubtful opening for what the idea of after death seemed. Any attempt to legitimize the subject resurrection screamed bewitchment.
“They’re between heaven and hell. These bodies - stolen property. The spirits possess those minutes after death and wake up. It’s where you get your near-death experiences from. It’s biblically illegal and God has sent me to retrieve them. My name is Boal. I am an Angel, at your service,” he said, tipping the old top hat. “And you’ve already met my assistant Matthew. He is...very much human.”
Not human? Angels? The inlaid feel of the moment measured mysterious. I had to be careful. My wife was silent, still traumatized by the day. He glanced up at us as he set the lobby coffee table for a snack. I couldn’t tell if this was a test or a grooming. But who would believe us? He ushered us in and motioned for us to sit. We were cold and nervous. Nonetheless we welcomed the warm tea. He handed me a cup I found the scent disgusting. To me, it smelled like fish left out in the sun too long. My wife also declined. He threw us a look of suspicion as he leaned back in his chair.
“So, your father is upstairs? I’m sure Matty is tending to his body well.” My wife looked at me and then back at Boal, nodding as she looked down at the floor. “So, how long have you been married?”
“Only a few days. We’re newlyweds.”
“And you’re in a funeral parlor grieving a father? Oh how fate can be so tricky!”
“Yeah,” I said as I looked away. He’s prying. “So how long have you been doing this?”
“Angel work? Before time. This? Recently changed duties. I’m on suspension for fighting with an Archangel. God felt I needed some ‘me time’ - serve in a different capacity,” he explained. He sipped his coffee and smiled again at my wife. “Let me give you a tour to pass time and ease your minds.”
As we walked the halls, it was like nothing I had ever seen. In one room people were eating people. I looked away quickly not to be attracted to the sight.
“I’ll have these spirits out of here by nightfall and these bodies properly buried. This is containment. We have so many who rob bodies.”
We finally got to the main lobby. My heart began to race. The exit was right there. “I’ll walk you to your car. Please keep what you’ve seen here to yourselves. No one would believe you anyway.” As I turned to thank him we both realized my wife was missing.
“I hope we didn’t lose her. She’s already scared out of her mind.” We went back down the hall. I walked behind him as he looked around in each room. Then he stopped and motioned to me, pointing through the glass. There she was, feasting on a human arm. She was tearing the flesh like a lioness after a fresh kill.
“How far did you think you would get? Eventually your hunger for flesh would have kicked in,” Boal said as he stood behind me. “Look, you’re done with this life. I have your file and both of you are going to be just fine. However, I cannot permit you to leave. I was on to you from the beginning. My office is located up front...I didn’t see you come in. There’s only one entrance for that reason.”
The profound charge touched my once radiant ability to elude truth. This old body obviously had tells that I hadn’t taken into consideration, along with the need to be fed. She got it. She was far from the look of a wife, but played along well. What we were couldn’t be denied. We stole these bodies, and now were caught. The shell moved towards darkness, a desire that would be problematic if humanity was ever to be a goal for home. It didn’t fit me, or her. This ruse was over. We were living nor dead, just two people trying to pull a centuries-old stint of possession. And as we walked back to our respective caskets, all the bodies in the funeral home were sitting up, looking at us. They were judging us glaring with their black pupils. They knew we failed, and had ruined any chance for them to escape. And as I climbed back into the casket, Boal smiled and closed the lid returning me to darkness. I floated from the body back into nothingness, awaiting my turn to be judged.
The Lost Soul
Audrina Lane
Ghostly Writes Anthology 2016 Page 58
