This story is part of the quarterly Storytime Blog Hop, October 2019 edition. If you aren’t familiar with a blog hop, several bloggers get together and all post something to their blogs, and link to all the other bloggers, so readers (that’s you guys) can go from story to story. Makes sense?
This was all coordinated by the wonderful Juneta Key
Anyway, this was one I put together for fun as a nod to one of my favorite movies. I hope you enjoy.
And be sure to check out the other tales, all linked below my story.
For The Ghost The Bell Tolls
There it was again, the bell tolling in the distance. The spirit of Thomas Becker felt drawn to it. Sexual predator when he was alive, night terror now that he was dead, he couldn’t explain why. There was something about it that was soothing, that offered the promise of sanctuary.
He needed sanctuary, now that there was someone after him. Those four ‘scientists’ running around, pretending to be the good guys, were on his tail. Wearing highly illegal and dangerous particle accelerators strapped to their backs, they hired themselves out to solve problems like himself, supernatural threats that couldn’t be handled otherwise.
Thomas always played the other side of the game, hunting the prey. It thrilled him, watching his victims from the shadows, noting their patterns, planning the ultimate time and place to strike when they were the most vulnerable.
The bell tolled again. “Come,” it seemed to say, “I will offer you rest and a safe haven from your trials.”
Thomas moved toward it. He needed time to think. He was better than those hunting him. He knew how to observe, how to plan, what dangers to watch out for. His supremacy was unquestioned in his mind. Yet, why did he feel so uneasy?
Thomas drifted toward the bell. He soon came upon a small church, with a bell on a stand near the front doors. A woman waited on the steps, looking nervous, as if someone had forgotten to keep an appointment with her. A cool breeze flapped the scarf she wore around her head. She pulled her light coat closer around her, trying to retain some body warmth.
She was not a beauty, but Thomas didn’t care about that. She was alone and vulnerable, just the way he liked them. To him, that was more beautiful than any surface appearance.
He scanned the street, finding it empty of other souls. He waited several more minutes, making sure that they were alone. When he was satisfied he floated toward her, nothing more than a solid mass of darkness. When he was close enough he’d reveal his true visage, the reflection of his corrupted soul. Her terror would begin then, and so would his fun.
As he approached he heard a rustle in the bushes nearby.
A beam of energy caught Thomas, binding him in place. Soon two more beams caught him, enveloping him, making it impossible to move.
“Trap out!” A small box slid under him. He was sucked into a nebulous realm, never to haunt again. He could hear them talking in the real world.
“See, Egon, I told you it’d work. Like moths to a flame. The spectral are always attracted by bells.”
“Peter, that was in a comic book. It has no basis in scientific fact.”
“He was right. There’ll be no living with him now. Winston, next time, you dress up like the girl.”
“Ray, how about we all go get a beer?”
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For The Ghost The Bell Tolls by James Husum <<< You are here
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