In the Halloween Spirit… pt3

(Please read first: Part 1 and Part 2)

“HELP THEM! ” Her scream cut through the thick air like a knife.

I stood frozen, my mind trying to absorb what it did not comprehend. I see her, I hear her, but my mind knows she is not real. I know she is not real. Real people do not float and move as the fog does. She lurches forward, gliding, her toes pointed down with the misty fog seemingly encircling around them. She pulls the mist in tow. Her head tilts, as she grows close I see her ashen face contort.

“HELP THEM! DON’T YOU HEAR THEIR SCREAMS?” She shrieks in desperation. “HELP!”

I am a statue. My muscles cannot respond fast enough. Her frustration grows the closer she gets to me. I feel the cold. It is not of the foggy night air. It’s deeper than any chill I’ve ever experienced. It cuts like blades into your core. Her face, her ashen, dead face contorts in anger. Her lifeless black eyes pierce me. Her gossimer blood stained gown blouses out with the sudden rush that propels her right up to me.

If she was made of actual flesh, I could have touched her with no effort. I hear their screams as I stare directly into dead eyes. Their blood curdling screams fill my ears as my knees betray me. My brain no longer accepts this reality and I don’t remember hitting the pavement.

“Are you okay? Ma’am. Miss…” A voice calls out. A real, live voice. Warm hands touch my face.

I open my eyes to see a male face. Unfamiliar, but a welcome sight. I blink to regain my focus. I stare into deep hazel eyes.

“Yes. I think so. Yeah…” I mutter as I sit up.

“Easy, there. You were out cold.” The stranger extends his arm to brace me. “What happened to you? You were out cold in the middle of the road! ”

I put an unsteady hand to my forehead.

“I…uh. You wouldn’t… well. Hm. Haha.” I chuckle to myself and look up sheepishly to meet his concerned gaze.

“Here” he pulls a chair to me and assists me up. “You take a moment, I’ll grab us a cup of joe.”

Only now do I assess my surroundings. I am on a front porch. A famillar one. I blink as I try to focus beyond the porch. I scan around and notice I am two houses down and across the street from my own house.

“Here ya go, careful… it’s piping hot.” The hazel eyed stranger who is actually my neighbor furrows his brow. “Now, I have to ask again, Miss… how’d you end up in the road? ”

I sip at the delightfully warm and much welcomed coffee. After a second sip, I turn my eyes to him.

“Ever see any other strange things happen around here? If so, you’ll understand a lot better.”

His eyes turn down to the wooden planks.

“Mhmm. We’re talking train tracks, aren’t we?” His voice was laced with a hint of disdain.

“So, you know?” I whisper

With his eyes cut sharp, he chuckles, “Oh yes. The question is, do you?”

(To be continued…)

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In the Halloween Spirit…pt 2

(If you haven’t read pt 1 please read that first! Or you will be terribly confused)

Nothing. No one. I crossed the tracks and she was gone! Nothing but me and the train horn sounding in the distance. It’s dark and foggy, so I decide that I should double check. I follow the ditch down beside the tracks as far as I can. It drops down further and further into a creek bed. The tracks cross a tressle about 20 foot overhead. I call out and hear nothing. I listen, no movement, no voices, cries or moans. I turn to go back up to the street, head down focusing on my footing.

“Help! Help them!” A shrill voice pierces the air.

My head jerks up to face the brief flash of an ashen face with sunken in black eyes. I slip and let out a scream. As quick as I saw it, it was gone. I scramble up the embankment and run towards my house. I trip on my small, half step and sprall out across the porch. As my body hits the wooden planks, the small amount of air left in my lungs decide to vacate and I immediately pass out.

I see the face again and jump awake. Trying to catch my breath, I assess my surroundings. I am still on the front porch, belly sprawled on the cold wood. I stretch and fumble under my doormat to grab my key. It flips around in my grasp before I regain control and rise to my feet.

As I turn on my lamp in the living room, I keep expecting to see that face again. The ashen white face. The eyes, black as coals, devoid of any life. A chill runs down my spine. The face was that of the woman I saw. Or rather, that I thought I saw. What DID I see? I am now pacing with my thoughts.

I didn’t see anything, I try to convince myself. I spooked myself. I’m in a new place. It’s just nerves. That’s all. My phone buzzes on the counter and I jump. I walk over and pick it up. It’s a reminder to mail something tomorrow. I click off my screen, turn off the lights in the living room and head to bed. I just need some rest.

After a long day, I put the previous night behind me and suit up for my nightly jog. The same horrid fog blankets the night. I stare towards the square as I stretch. As soon as I leave my driveway, my heart stops as I hear the now familiar sound. Metal on metal. Crushing, grinding metal.

I turn to face the tracks as this is where the sound came from. I was sure of it this time. I look around to my neighbors houses. Did they not hear it? No lights flickered on. No curious faces peaking out of doors or windows.

“Am I crazy?!” I ask aloud. And just as before, the clock tower answers by chiming eleven haunting chimes.

I look towards the tracks. I hear no train. I assume the crossing arms are up, the lights are not blinking, but the thick fog obscures my view to be sure. I don’t know if I am crazy, but I felt compelled to go towards the tracks. I wanted to proof I was just imagining it all, but as the shape of a woman cut through the fog it became increasing clear I was not imagining anything, though I wish I was.

(To be continued…)

In the Halloween Spirit…pt 1

(Halloween fiction, so if this isn’t your cup o’tea, hit back now.)

As I step out my front door, the misty drops of thick fog hit my face. I sigh and look down the street. The town lights look warm yet muted behind the foggy layers that separate us, but I can still see well enough to go on my nightly jog. I tug the strings of my hoodie and as the hood snugs around my face I jump down the half step off of my porch.

I had not lived here long and due to my shift change at work, I am left to jog much later than I ever had. This didn’t bother me much, just means I have the town to myself. The quaint little Georgia town “rolled up it’s sidewalks” at nine. Nothing was open, everyone was at home and I rather liked it that way. My first late night jog was just chillier than expected.

I love the crisp fall air, but tonight the air held an odd chill within the droplets that surrounded me. The air was thick and it saturated my lungs with a cold,  prickling sting. I decided to stop in the Town Square to catch my breath. I’ve never stopped at the square on a night like this. What a mysterious beauty, coated in fog.

The clock tower was almost completely shrouded in the fluffy grey mass, if not for the glow from the clock face, it would be unnoticeable. As I stretch my arms above me, trying to open my lungs I hear a loud screech. Metal on metal. Twisting, crunching, grinding. My instinct is to immediately jump over the solid metal bench for some protection.

As I gather my senses, I look around from the other side of my protective hurdle to see, nothing. The square is as empty as it was just a moment before my impromptu hurdle. I jog to the other end of the main square. All streets devoid of any vehicles, let alone a fender bender. Convinced my eyes have missed something, I return to my previous position. Nothing. I hold a fridgid, shaking hand to my forehead.

“Am I losing my mind?” I mumble.

As if in response to my question, the clock tower bellows eleven deep chimes that bounce off the store fronts around me. I jump at the sound. After the clock has it’s say, I shake my arms and bounce in attempt to regain my focus.

I start back with a slow jog, but I cannot shake the feeling that horrid sound gave me. It resonated deep within my bones. What could have made such a horrid sound? I round the far end of the square and pick up my pace for the jog back. As I enter the main square, I hear a noise off in the distance. A train!

Wait! A train! I speed up from a jog to a full sprint. Why didn’t I think of the train?! A block past my house there are train tracks, maybe that’s where the noise originated!? I hear the train whistle getting closer as I race down the street towards the tracks. I hope someone isn’t stuck on the tracks!

As I pass my house, I see the crossing arms light up and lower, the train horn echoes in the darkness. Just then a woman emerges from the fog. She is staggering up from the ditch on the otherside of the tracks. I am about 100 yards away when I stop running. I try to call out to her when the rush of air hits me. The train speeds between us, it’s horn overtakes my hearing leaving a violent ringing in it’s wake.

I stoop over, hands on my knees as I try to regain my breath. This thick air seemingly refuses to fill my lungs properly. My mind turns to the woman on the other side of the train. She looked in bad shape and I have to wait for this train to pass before I can help her. I try to force more air in my lungs as the last few cars pass. With my ears still ringing, I cross the tracks to find a suprising sight.
(To be continued…)

Grumble Grumble

Ever look at other blogs and think, “My life is boring as shit.”

That’s me currently. I have had no sparkle, speck, or fleck of inspiration to write as of late. That’s why the airwaves have been static as of late. In fact, I just realised my inspiration to write this is complete lack of inspiration. Does this open up a wormhole or something??

*rolls eyes at self*

Walk to Defeat ALS

The walk this year was so different for me. I have worked hard this year to improve my health and although my outward appearance has not drastically changed, I noticed how much of a drastic difference this year has made in my overall health. This 2 miles has proven it to me!

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Usually I dred the last half of the walk. I would get winded, be hurting, and struggled to get to that finish line. Especially that last, steady uphill climb. This year, with help from these folks, I made it thru without feeling like I was going to fall out.

My bestie really helped me push and keep going! When I started panicking in my head thinking it was going to be like before… she’d cheer me on… letting me know that I was doing good! Thanks to that encouragement, I DID do it and walked across that finish line (WALKED, not staggered!) and didn’t need to sit down for 10 minutes!

I am proud of myself and thankful for all the encouragement from Bestie and Butthead.