My Sister's Keeper -- Halloween Special

part 5


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If someone had asked Violet if she was gay or bi, she’d have either laughed at them or been caustic, depending on who was asking the question.  Sure, she’d kissed a few girls in college, but that was the time for experimentation – besides, things had never gone beyond that.

If those girls had been as good at kissing as whatever or whoever this entity really was, on the other hand…Violet thrust that thought out of her mind.  Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder to do so.  For one thing, it had been a long time since she’d had intimate contact with anyone, and this entity knew exactly how to touch her in order to get Violet’s carnal engine started – and once started, it didn’t want to stop.  Violet made one more attempt to push the other woman away but she clung like a leech.  How was she holding on so tightly without using her hands? Finally, she managed to get a grip on the other woman’s face and pull it away from her own.  “Who the fuck are you, really?” Violet hissed at the reflection.  “My legs might not be working, but my hands work just fine and my nails have easy access to your face!”

A flash of different emotions flashed across the entity’s face.  Finally, she turned away.  It’s difficult to explain.

“My best friend is possessed by her sister.  Try me.”

I’m…I guess you could call me a spirit of sorts.

“If you try to convince me I had an identical twin-“

Nothing like that.  I’m not a ghost, I’m a spirit.  Technically, I was never alive.

“And that excuses trying to rape me how?”

The other woman winced.  I’m sorry.  I respond to emotions and…you’d been wanting the touch of someone else for a long time I….got carried away.  I never meant to hurt you. She lowered her head.  I’ll just…I’ll just go.

Even in the dim light, Violet could see the spirit’s face start to waver, and the anguish on it was clear.  She told herself it didn’t matter.  She told herself that the little bitch was getting what she deserved.  She told herself…I’m a sucker. “I’ll give you one night to make your case, so long as you’re fair – but no sooner than after the party.”

Just before she faded out, Violet thought she saw the apparition smile, but any further details were lost. Then, finally, her legs came back under her control with a wrench.  She thought she had a pretty good idea as to what the original problem was, too.  Later for that, she decided.  Something tells me I’m not the only one having problems.  James should be relatively safe downstairs with all of those people, so…

She sprinted towards the bathroom.


#



It hadn’t taken long for James to get some answers from the other party-goers; he’d always been decent making small-talk.

One: he had gotten married about four years (!) ago.  The marriage lasted a little over a year.  The general consensus was that his wife had been a creep.

Two: three had been a lot of layoffs at Phoebe’s company as well as Amy’s, which is why there were so few people here.  Phoebe and Violet had been among the casualties.

Three: no one had seen Phoebe at all in five (!) years.  The first year she came here had been her last.

All this had left James dumbfounded, shaken and above all, pissed – at himself, mostly.  He was badly out of shape, taken up smoking, and letting a marriage tank after only a year?  What happened to him?  He didn’t even recognize himself! This is no prank, he told himself, unless I’m also in on it and somehow forgot.

Sam.  It had to be.

James scanned around the room.   Against the east wall there was a shadowed doorway everyone seemed to avoid.  That had to be where Sam took me down originally, he thought.  Squaring his shoulders, he marched down the dark passage – sure enough, there was one door open a crack with light steaming out of it.  He thrust it open, to reveal Sam still sitting on the bed.  “You!”

“Me.”  Sam sounded amused.

James grabbed Sam by the front of his costume and hauled him upright.  It dimly occurred to him somewhere that his younger, toner physique had reasserted itself. “What the fuck’s going on?  Who are you?”

“Who am I?  Who are you – a man or a mouse?”

“Don’t push me, I’m not in the mood!”

“I can see that.”

James grabbed at the mask and ribbed it off. What he saw turned his rage to fear in an instant.

Sam had a pumpkin for a head.  

Not a plain pumpkin, not even a carved pumpkin, but a full, honest-to-badness, real jack-o-lantern for a head.  The eyes blazed like fire the wide grin sported jagged teeth, and the empty nose was as dark as the floors of Hell.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you,” the pumpkin said, its mouth moving perfectly as if flesh, “that some things are best left uncovered?”

James’ treacherous fingers finally unfroze and let go of the apparition.  “What are you?”  he whispered.

“I told you – call me Sam.  Would you like to know my full name?”

James cringed against the closed door. He hadn’t closed it in the first place.  “No. Sam’s good.”

‘Sam’ snorted.  “There’s a brain in that head after all. Who’d have thought?”

“What’s going on??”

Sam folded his arms.  “They say hindsight’s 20-20,” he replied.  “One can always see exactly how you’ve bitten yourself after the wound festers.  You, my friend, have had the rare opportunity of hindsight before it’s behind you.”

“What caused things to go so badly?”

‘Sam’ picked up the scarecrow mask.  “Listen to your heart.  It knows.”

James mulled that one over.  He stole a glance at the apparition, who had managed to slide his scarecrow mask back on. “Why me?  Why do this for me?”

Sam grinned; James could feel the grin, despite the fact that the mask concealed any facial expression.  “Who said I did it for you?  Now, any more questions?”

“None I want the answers to.”

“You really are smarter than you look.”

“I’d have to be.”  James stole a glance behind him; the bedroom door was open.  He hadn’t opened it.  “I need to go.”

Sam didn’t respond as James fled.


To Be Continued


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