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The Ghosts of Wildegate



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Fri Sep 30, 2016 8:22 pm
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Mageheart says...



THE GHOSTS OF WILDEGATE



You turn the corner and see grinning pumpkins on guard before houses. Ghosts line the streets. Fake ones, of course, because real ghosts don't exist (or do they?). Cobwebs cover the trees that seem almost as if they are on fire from their vibrant foliage. Summer has long ago fled, yet winter hasn't begun to make its advances onto the town of Wildegate.

You've chosen to enter Wildegate's notorious haunted house on All Hallow's Eve. Whether it be because you want to have your courage tested, see what lurks inside, or disprove the claim that it's haunted, fate has brought you to the steps of the haunted house on the same night as several others. Only time will tell what will happen.

Wildegate

A suburban town known throughout New England as home to a supposed haunted house, Wildegate has a hotel situated near the place for visitors to stay in. Though South Haven, a neighboring town, is known for its purported ghostly residents, Wildegate gains far more visitors before and during Halloween.

Character Template

You're allowed to have as many characters as you want in this storybook. Unless you talk to me beforehand, your characters will be from Earth, regularly visit Earth, or have been living on Earth for a period of time. Characters can be from other storybooks, your own stories, characters without stories, or characters specifically created for this storybook.

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Rules

1.) No godmodding.
2.) Be polite to the other members of the SB.
3.) Use correct grammar and spelling.
4.) If you want to kill off a character, check with the character's creator.
5.) Sex is not allowed. Keep it T, please.
6.) Swearing is allowed.
7.) You can use whatever tense you want, along with first person or third person, as long as you use the same tense and point of view throughout the storybook for that character.
8.) Some people have said before to not control other people's characters, but since we're all collaborating here, you have to do that to a certain degree. So here's a compromise: Be prepared for their creator to correct you if their character was out-of-character (OOC). Also, to avoid possible OOC characters, try to talk with their creators or wait until you know their character better before making them say anything.
9.) Have fun, of course! :D
Last edited by Mageheart on Fri Nov 25, 2016 2:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
mage

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Mon Oct 03, 2016 10:49 am
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Mageheart says...



SCHADEL H. KUEPER



She stood in front of an old, rundown hotel that was decorated with cobwebs and grinning jack-o-lanterns. An eerie mist had settled upon the town as she had been waiting there, and a cool breeze gently blew through the streets filled with the occasional costume-clad child.

It was getting late. Not for the first time, she cursed her lack of a watch and a phone. She anxiously readjusted her deerstalker hat to make sure it was on as perfectly as it could be and continued to peer out into the darkness.

Someone was approaching.

She turned to greet whoever it might be and prepared an explanation for why she had been standing there for the past half hour. Instead, however, she stumbled away in surprise and uttered a startled yelp as a skull loomed out of the darkness.

“You really are hopeless,” her assistant said. She removed the hood to her black cloak and lifted up the skull mask so her face was easy to be seen. Her bright green – painfully familiar – eyes look at her with disapproval. “You, of all people, shouldn't be scared of a grim reaper costume.”

Her face flushed in embarrassment. “That doesn't look right. Besides, seeing a skull mask suddenly appear is terrifying!” She pulled her hat down, turning her back to Liz in an attempt to hide how red her face was getting. “When did you get here, anyways? I didn't see you park.”

“I used the parking lot behind the hotel. The only open spot in the front one was being taken up by a truck.”

Despite the two having both decided to investigate Wildegate's supposedly haunted house (it was more like Schadel had forced Liz to come along), they had arrived at different times. Schadel had a costume prepared weeks prior to All Hallow's Eve. Liz, on the other hand, had been in the process of putting one together since the night before. Schadel had taken a bus there and Liz had drove in her car once she finished making her costume. They would stay the night in the hotel, which Schadel had already booked a room in, and then drive back to South Haven in Liz's car the next day.

She looked behind her assistant. “I'm guessing Edward and Claire decided to stay at the agency and deal with the trick-or-treaters.”

Liz nodded in response. “Edward is handing out candy and only talking if the children are young and by themselves. Claire is terrorizing the older ones.” She looked down at her phone's bright screen. “They might stop by later, if they can figure out how to get here.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Schadel questioned with a sigh. Claire usually terrorized her; it made sense she would take advantage of the holiday and do the same to others. “Well,” she said, straightening out her coat to make it looks its best, “the game is afoot.”

Liz looked up from her phone. “You did not just say that.”

“I had to. I'm Sherlock Holmes tonight. I have to drop as many references as possible. This type of thing only happens once a year!” She turned around and gave her assistant a childish grin.

“Don't tell me you're Sherlock Holmes every Halloween.”

Schadel muttered a quiet, “I am,” and her smile became a sheepish one.

“How old are you again?” Liz asked with a groan.

“Twenty-one.”

“Your real age.”

She lowered her voice so no one would overhear her. Not that there was anyone close enough to be listening in to their conversation. “One hundred and two.” Clearing her throat, she gestured at the haunted house. “Let's head over there now.”

Liz, slipping her phone into her pocket, followed in Schadel's footsteps. “Why exactly are we investigating a haunted house?”

“Elementary, my dear Watson-” She faltered for a second. Liz had given her a pointed glare at the reference. “It's to check if it's actually haunted. We are a part of Schadel's Necromancy Agency, after all.”

“You just want to go to the haunted house.”

She hesitated. “...Maybe. I mean, it is one of the best ones in all of New England, and it just happens to be a town over from the agency...” She threw her hands up in defeat. “Alright, you got me. I just wanted to check out the haunted house. It's Halloween! Going to haunted houses dressed up is a great way to spend it!”

Liz pulled her hood up and slid the mask back into place. “You're hopeless, Schadel H. Kueper.”
mage

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JuliasSneezer says...



OLIVER ROBERTS:

Oliver concealed a gulp as he pulled at the collar of his straw-stuffed button down shirt. He threw his candy-filled pillowcase over his shoulder. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked. He felt quite hot in his itchy scare crow costume.

His best friend, Luke, turned around and gave him a mischevious grin. "Positive. No-one even stays here anymore." Luke would have worked his devilish expression if he weren't dressed in as a giant egg. He was dressed in all white, except for a circle of yellow on his stomach. A pair of red horns was on his head. When Oliver interrogated him on it earlier, Luke had simply shrugged and told him that he was going as a devilled egg.

"That doesn't mean that this is a good idea." Oliver persisted, jogging to catch up with him. His cowboy boots clunked noisily on the sidewalk, and he wished that they would quiet down. "We could get arrested."

"For what, you chicken?" Luke taunted, forging ahead.

"Gee, I don't know, breaking and entering, perhaps? Along with property trespass, etcetera."

"You just ran out of examples." Luke said, ignoring the valid reasons.

"I still made a point." Oliver denied. "Let's just turn back."

"Come on, what, do you have a hot date?" Luke taunted.

Oliver could feel the tips of his ears reddening. "No,"

"Then come on!" Luke crowed, breaking into a run.

Oliver blew out a long sigh, and ran after him. He normally would have been faster, but his cowboy boots against Luke's sneakers were no match. As they approached the abandoned hotel, Luke stopped. Oliver slowed to a reluctant jog, then stopped beside him. "Luke, what's-"

Ahead, he saw a pair of people. One was dressed as Sherlock Holmes himself, and the other was donning a black cloak. They appeared to be in the middle of a conversation. They seemed friendly enough, but something about them was off to Oliver. His intuition hadn't failed him yet.

"Maybe they're friendly?" Luke asked, sounding doubtful.

"Maybe, but I'm not willing to take that chance." Oliver shook his head.

Luke nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, teenagers creep me out."

"Luke,"

"Yeah?"

"We are teenagers, you dunce." Oliver reminded him, deadpan.

"Oh, yeah..." Luke frowned, as if he only just remembered. "Let's go say hi!" He decided, running forward.

"Luke!" Oliver shouted, once again trying to catch up.
"When in doubt, improvise!"
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Tue Oct 04, 2016 12:51 am
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Kelpies says...



Jane

Haunted Hotel- close synonym for the word 'awesome'. Unless it wasn't actually haunted- in which case it's synonym would be 'boring as hell'. I sincerely hoped that this place was haunted- because I was staying the night here. Don't you worry- I was definitely prepared for a night in a haunted hotel.

I'd brought my sleeping bag.

I was dressed as a knight in shining armor, metal clanking as I moved. A sword was sheathed at my hip- ready should a living threat impede my investigation. I'd also worn my trusty stilletos- silver to go with the outfit. The whole thing was kind of impractical for doing- well- anything, but hey; couldn't I have some fun sometimes? I mean- come on? I hoisted my sleeping bag over my shoulder, entering the large hotel.

Honestly- the decor was cheesy. I could almost see the word 'fake' written in the cobwebs. I rolled my eyes- if it was this boring all night I might not be able to stay. Unless... I set up a few scares myself. I grinned- this wasn't going to be boring, this was Hallows Eve for crying out loud! I was going to have some fun tonight.

I hurried inside, unrolling my sleeping bag. Inside was a small marionette about two feet high.

"Arthur, wake up!" I said excitedly. His painted wooden eyes blinked open. His strings floated upwards until he was floating in midair. "Mind helping me set up some scares for the trick or treaters?"

You're so immature. He clicked out in morse code.

"Fine. You don't need to help. It's gonna happen one way or another."

Fine. I'll just sit in the rafters and watch you fail. I swear if he could change his facial expression he'd be smirking.

"Do I look like I care? Wait- don't answer that the answer is no." I rolled my sleeping bag back up, shoving it back into my bag. It didn't take me long to find a fake skull and fit a tripwire over the staircase to send it tumbling down if anyone came along. I fixed up several other booby traps before starting to contemplate the second story. What else could I do with the stairwell? Hmm...

"You sure you're not gonna help?" I asked Arthur.

Nah. But this should be fun to watch.

"Thanks." I said sarcastically. I climbed the stairs to the second story- seeing a balcony over the entryway. There was a cobwebbed chandelier that was so close I could almost touch it. I wondered if I could somehow set it up so it'd come crashing down... I reached out towards it, my arm fully outstretched couldn't quite reach it. I leaned out a little over the edge. Then a little more. Then a little more. It was probably kind of my fault that I tumbled over the edge. Arthur caught me bu the feet with ghostly hands extending out of his marionette home. My helmet fell off, letting my hair tumble out just as I saw someone in the doorway I was facing.

"Hello." I said awkwardly.

Or as people used to say 'thanks Arthur' Arthur grumbled, dropping me the last few feet.
We are who we are, and if someone has a problem with that; that's their problem not ours.
***
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Sujana says...



Camiel & Adriel

"I still don't understand why I have to be here." Camiel slammed the flashlight against the palm of his hand, watching it flicker in frustration. "Ghosts are your division, not mine. It's not like anyone upstairs is demanding I be here."

The shadow in the basement edged slightly, before approaching the stairwell. The flashlight finally came to, and Cam pointed it downwards, making a familiar dark face squint. "Because last time I left you in a hotel room on Halloween, you gave three children burnt demon liver and told them it was licorice," Adriel said, shielding his eyes with his gloved hands. There were red stains on the gloves, and a dead fly between his index and middle finger. "And besides, Pax is better suited to trick-or-treating than you are."

"Oh, please, those kids loved it," Camiel argued, putting the flashlight away from Adri's face. "They came running back, asking for more."

"Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, oh, I don't know," Adriel gestured methodically, "They were possessed by the parasitic hoard feasting on their digestive systems?"

"You can't blame that on me. Do you even know what those monsters eat?" Camiel scowled. "That's like saying I poisoned a pig by letting it eat something out of mud. It was bound to happen eventually."

"Eating demonic liver is not a regular occurrence."

"Yes, well, neither is bringing me out to a ghost-hunt."

Camiel could see his companion shake his head from the corner of his eyes, and immediately the angel frowned. "What did you find?"

"Human. Somewhere between the ages of thirteen to fourteen. Female, from the looks of it, but it's hard to tell when someone cuts the face off," Adriel pulled off the gloves, letting the slapping sound echo against the creaking rafters. "She's wearing a princess fairy costume."

Camiel clutched his fist. "How long has she been out?"

"I--really can't tell." Adriel looked down the basement for a little while, his face stiff. His eyebrows quiver in concern. If Camiel was being honest, in dread. "I honestly can't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Adriel glanced towards Camiel, pushing the fearful look on his face to the side. There's been worse. Both in hell and in heaven, there has always been worse. "Cam," he said, "There's traces of formaldehyde and methanol on the body."

"And?"

The firm gaze faltered. Adriel looked down, whispering. "The body's been preserved."

Camiel considered the prospect, momentarily, only reaching some semblance of enlightenment once he heard something crash nearby. "Motherf--" He stopped himself, reaching for the gun below his blazer jacket. He turned to Adriel. "Get all the evidence you need. I'll handle it."

The demon nodded, turning back into the darkness. Pulling the gun out, Camiel clenched his teeth, creeping down the hall to the doorway.
"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief."

Ecclesiastes 1: 18





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Tue Oct 04, 2016 10:39 pm
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sheysse says...



Skyla Holt


“Hey Orlando,” I said, flickering the flashlight over the cobweb dusted walls, “Are these walls supposed to be covered with blood?” Orlando turned, curious, and walked over.

“Well, supposedly this thing is meant to have scary aspects, though I don't see how blood is scary.” He tilted his head in confusion.

I shrugged. “Eh. Who knows?”

As our governmentally scheduled vacation for this year, Orlando and I chose to put our funds together and come to Wildegate. It was famous for its apparently haunted house, and we thought it would be an appropriate location for an October Recess. Although, it was supposed to be scary.

“Did you just see that figure?” Orlando said, shining his flashlight down the long corridor that lay before us. Without waiting for a response, he took off, running for the people. Irritated at his sudden sprint, I dashed to follow him. “Wait up!”

“But there was people!” He shouted over his shoulder without slowing. Sighing, I kept running. Suddenly, Orlando stopped and I bumped into him. He was having a stare down with the two figures, who had stopped. One looked confused.

“Who are they?” One asked the other.

“I don't know,” said the confused one. “They're aren't human. I don't think.”

Offended, I put my hands on my hips. “What's that supposed to mean? We're as human as you are!”

They snorted.

“Why are you here?” Orlando asked. His flashlight had begun flickering and he was switching the batteries in my light's glow as he questioned them.

“I could ask the same. But, you asked first. Well, we're just enjoying the haunted house.”

I sighed in relief. “Oh, good. We are in the right haunted house. The blood in the mudroom made me think we'd stumbled upon a janitor's house. THAT would've been scary.”

They blinked simultaneously. “I'm sorry, what? No, don't answer that. I'm Cameron and this is Adrian.”

Orlando pointed to himself and then me. “I'm Orlando Clayton and this is Skyla Holt.” We all kind of did an awkward hand shake of greeting. Well, I think it was of greeting. Usually that's their purpose, but sometimes its a way of connecting someone to a voodoo doll. Of course, that's a rare chance. Then we all kind of went our own ways, since haunted houses are best enjoyed with your closest friends.

We strolled through the long halls of the mansion like it was a midsummer's eve. A few blotches of blood spattered the walls here and there, but mostly it was no different than what I was used to in Frost Lark. After a few minutes, Orlando let out a little “Oh!” before bending down to inspect something. Circling around him, I saw he was looking at a corpse.

“Wow, they have corpses here too! I thought the Frost Lark Park was the only place you can find them naturally,” I exclaimed. “Wait, isn't that a fact. It was in those textbooks we were required to memorize in high school so that we weren't sent to the incinerator. 'The Frost Lark Park is the only place on Earth where you can naturally find lifeless corpses.' Fact three hundred and eighty seven.”

“I don't think this was natural, Skyla. I think we have a janitor on the loose. Or worse; a murderer.”
Last edited by sheysse on Wed Oct 05, 2016 6:45 pm, edited 2 times in total.





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Mageheart says...



SCHADEL H. KUEPER



She definitely wasn't scared of the haunted house she had decided to enter with Liz as her only companion.

She had never actually been in a haunted house before. There was no way she would ever do it by herself; Blanx was always busy late into the night because of his secondary job, Marisu and Xante had no interest in it, and Rekune was incredibly adamant about never entering one. Which, now that Schadel was facing the very real situation of going inside a haunted house, seemed like a very wise and intelligent decision.

She took a deep breath. "Let's go-"

"Hi!"

"Scheisse!" she exclaimed, involuntarily throwing her arms around her assistant and desperately clinging to her. Which, with their height difference, was most likely a very entertaining sight to see. She hesitantly peered over Liz's shoulder to see two boys staring at them. Liz pried herself free from her tight grasp and turned to face them.

The boy who had spoken faltered for a brief second upon seeing Liz's mask. "My name's Luke Eberhard. And this," Here he gave the boy standing beside him a gentle shove. "is my best friend Oliver Roberts." She was unable to figure out what his costume was supposed to be. His friend, on the other hand, was clearly a scarecrow.

"My name is Liz." Her assistant was one for few words; she rarely gave her full name out. It had taken a bit of investigating for Schadel to learn it soon after their first meeting (investigating involved checking the mail when no one was looking). "Hopeless over here is Schadel Kueper."

"So," Schadel said, gathering what little fleeting courage she had left, "do you want to all enter it now?"

Luke threw open the front door and headed inside. "Of course!" Schadel, closing her eyes tightly in anticipation of something terrifying or simply a jumpscare, reluctantly followed.

"That's strange," Liz spoke up from behind her. "There was a signal just a second ago. But now I can't connect to the WiFi or even the 4G." Her eyes widened as she stared down at her phone's screen - which cast a frightening light onto her face. "And now my phone is dead."

Schadel gulped.

And that was when someone came crashing to the ground. "SCHEISSE!" With Liz behind her, Schadel was unable to grab onto her upon hearing the sudden noise. A woman lay sprawled out on the ground underneath the chandelier, dressed in a strange combination of armor and stilettos.

"She was hanging above the ground for a couple of seconds," Oliver piped up. Schadel stared at him before her gaze turned to the woman. If that was the case, why had that happened? She peered up at the second floor. There didn't appear to be anyone up there. At least, no one strong enough to hold her and her armor in place.

Then she noticed the marionette watching as the woman got to her feet and brushed the dust off. "Hi," she simply said. She grabbed her helmet - which was at her feet - and put it on. "I'm Jane Augustine."

The others quickly introduced themselves as well, but Schadel couldn't keep her eyes off of the marionette. Which, unsurprisingly, had moved from its position to assume a more comfortable one that still had a good view of the first floor. "Possession," she muttered with a smile. That was something she could easily deal with. "I'm going to check out the second floor." Her voice had grown louder. She wanted everyone to know what she was doing without having to announce the ghost's presence.

She made her way up the creaky stairs. The marionette became still upon seeing her approach, but Schadel had already caught on. "Hello," she said with a smile. "I'm Schadel Kueper. It's not everyday that I run into a ghost who was able to concentrate enough to possess something!" Concentration was an incredible understatement. In order for a ghost to possess something, they had to temporarily abandon that they were still human and focus on a specific object. Usually the object was humanoid - hence the marionette instead of something like a teddy bear. "Oh! I almost forgot. I'm the owner of Schadel's Necromancy Agency - masters of mysterious spirits and haunting mysteries!"
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Sujana says...



Camiel & Adriel

"I'm going to shoot them."

"Camiel."

"Should I shoot to kill, or do you think they're weak enough to be damaged?"

"Camiel."

"Look, Adri, they're not human. You and I can tell that from a mile away," Camiel watched the Inconveniently Dressed Blonde and the Ambiguously Gay Bro-Man wander the basement, staring down at the corpse on the floor. "And if they are, do you really think we want to have two humans who think janitors are equivalent to murderers tailing us around?"

"We're not killing anybody tonight," Adriel whispered, sternly, "And if you do, I'll make sure Michael knows about it."

Camiel rolled his head upward, downward, dragging his hands into his facial features. "Are you seeing the same thing I am here, Adri? Are you asking the same questions I am? Let me get this straight," Camiel clutched onto the other man's shoulders, scowling. "We find a dead child, preserved in chemicals, with its face clawed off. Unless this supposed 'Ghost of Wildegate' possessed a body and read up on the embalming process, we can safely conclude that we have a calculating psychopath killing children and using their bodies for God-probably-wouldn't-want-to-know-what. And suddenly, a pair of non-human-like humans come strolling along from out of nowhere, casually pointing out the blood on the walls like it's Persian tapestry." Camiel stiffened his glare. "Do I sound crazy now?"

Adriel narrowed his brows. "You never sound crazy, Camiel," he said. "You only ever sound dense."

Camiel grabbed the other man by the tie, stabbing a finger into his chest. "Now you listen here--"

And at that moment, the two of them heard someone curse in heavy German. Camiel dipped his nails into his palms, grunting. "What is it now?" He screamed into the walls, whipping out his gun.

"Camiel, don't shoot anything--"

"Stuff it, Adri," Camiel pointed a gun at the two strangers who were still kneeling downward. "I'm checking the front entrance. We have more unwanted visitors."

"They must be trick-or-treaters."

"Yeah, and this place is dark and decrepit. What's your point?"

"We already have one dead, Cam," Adriel tossed back, "We don't exactly need a bigger kill count."

"All the more reason to scare them away," Camiel reasoned.

"Camiel!"

"Not. Now."

Adriel wanted to further argue, before Camiel marched towards the front entrance, preparing himself for whatever annoyance was to come.
"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief."

Ecclesiastes 1: 18





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JuliasSneezer says...



OLIVER ROBERTS:

Oliver widened his eyes at the curious scene in front of him. Sure, it had been a haunted house, but there was something different about this place. A hollow feeling settled about the hotel. Like there was a shell of something roaming around. Searching for something.

He turned around to Luke, who was staring up at the marionette with wide eyes. "What-?"

"I don't know." Oliver answered, anticipating Luke's question. "It's impossible."

Luke frowned, and tore his gaze off the marionette. "How do you know?"

"I just do! It's just... impossible!" Oliver answered indignantly.

Luke huffed. "Oliver, I get that you're a man of science or whatever, but you have to keep in mind: Look at what you see. If you can't find evidence otherwise, then whatever is here is the truth, no matter how impossible."

"But I have evidence. The laws of science." Oliver argued, turning his gaze back to the marionette. "It's not possible." He whispered under his breath, too quiet for Luke to hear.
"When in doubt, improvise!"
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Sujana says...



Camiel

Camiel watched the event from a distance--the talking marionette, the strange girl who looked inhuman (but then again, in this house nobody looked quite human) and deathly somehow, and the crowd of people who seemed relatively normal. Trick-or-treaters. Or explorers, perhaps. Eitherway, Camiel felt as if he oughtn't worry as much as he did.

Then he remembered the body.

"What are you all doing here?" he announced himself. Eyes flashed towards him, and he realized (albeit tardily) that he must've looked quite strange. For one, he wasn't wearing a costume, instead choosing his usual dark overcoat (that contrasted with Adriel's white shirts). Secondly, he wasn't exactly trying to hide his gun.

"Who are you?" one of them, he can't quite see which, asked.

"The man who'll choke you with your shirt collars and throw you out a window, if you don't get out now," he threatened, scowling, "Do you even know where you are? This place, it's--"

And suddenly, the windows flashed with bright life, before drowning the room in black. Camiel heard the door close, locking itself.

"Oh no."

Camiel wasn't sure who said it, but he definitely didn't. He was too busy running towards where he remembered the door was, trying to find the knob. When he did (at least, he thought he did) he found it locked. "Shit," he whispered.

He grabbed his gun, aiming at the door. He shot once, twice, only to find that the bullets from his gun were missing.

And in that moment Camiel knew, they all fucked up.
"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief."

Ecclesiastes 1: 18





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Thu Oct 06, 2016 10:43 am
Mageheart says...



SCHADEL H. KUEPER



There was frantic and terrified conversations filling the room, and initially Schadel felt just as scared. But then realization set in; she was most likely in completely familiar territory. She dug around in her coat's pockets for what she knew would be of the most help.

She turned the flashlight on. The light from it cast shadows onto whatever things it touched, adding to the eerie mood everyone was feeling. She returned to her assistant. Liz had never been scared by ghosts, just as Schadel had never, but for some reason she looked worried and distracted. Maybe it was because of the guy with the gun?

Yet that seemed wrong. Possibly because the gun was without bullets.

"I thought we weren't going to turn out the lights until later!" a familiar voice said from not too far away. There was the sound of movement. Schadel kept her flashlight pointed away from wherever the speaker - who seemed to be male from his voice alone - was with whoever he was with.

"That wasn't me!" another familiar voice protested. It was younger than the first and feminine.

Schadel, realizing what was happening, turned and gave her best at a glare at her assistant. "That's cruel," she said. "Real cruel. Let me guess - your phone isn't dead and you can still connect to the outside world." In response, Liz gave a sheepish smile and nodded. She sighed. Ignoring the fact that her assistants had all conspired to terrify her (possibly in front of other people), now she had to worry about two more people.

Although she didn't have to worry about Claire Fortier and Edward Smith dying unless there was an exorcist involved.

She shown the flashlight in the direction of their voices. They both instinctively covered their eyes with their arms, Claire's covered in burns and Edward's in blood, grime, and dirt. "Where did you guys hide in Liz's car? The trunk?"

Realizing that they had been caught, the two made their way over to the group assembled. "We actually just rode in the back and ducked down when we entered the hotel's parking lot so you wouldn't notice us. And then we entered this building through the back door," Edward explained.

There was the sound of someone trying to open the door. "Which is also locked," Claire added.

The seemingly older of the ghosts - for that was what the two really were - thought for a moment. And then, glancing around at the terrified faces (and the occasional confused one if they couldn't hear ghosts), he came to a decision. "Now might be the time to mention that there's a dead body in the basement." Schadel paled. "She was only in her early teens, dressed as a princess with her face missing. She had an odd smell to her."

Her hands closed into fists. "Whoever did that was a monster," she managed to get out through clenched teeth.

"So our ghost most likely is that girl," Liz commented. "Unless there are multiple ones."

"I need to find that ghost," Schadel decided. She threw her living assistant her flashlight and withdrew another one from her pocket. And then she began to search for the entrance to the basement.
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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Sujana says...



Adriel

"What's going on?" Someone, most likely the strange girl creature, asked.

"Has the party started?" Another, most likely the guy named after a Floridan city, asked.

"Has it?"

"Has it?"

"Oh, don't be silly, Orlando. We weren't invited to a party."

"We ought to be. I think we deserve it."

Adriel tried to ignore the two strangers' even stranger banter, looking through his satchel for something beyond scalpels and litmus tests. He found his flashlight, then, and used it to fish out his pocketbook of incantations.

"You two," he said, tossing a plastic bottle of salt at Orlando or Skyla, "Make a circle around the body, and make sure it's complete. No holes. I'll be marking this room for all our safety's."

"What's that supposed to do?" Orlando probably asked.

"The circle, he meant," Skyla added.

Adriel considered their questions. "There might be more than one ghost here," he declared, confidently, "But since they're all bound to their remains, I can at the very least trap this one."

"You're going to trap a little girl?" Orlando asked.

"He's going to trap a ghost, Orlando," Skyla answered.

"Are there such things?"

"I think I had a friend who was one."

"Oh? And how did it feel?"

"I wouldn't know. She doesn't talk much, see, being a ghost and all."

"Now, just because she's a ghost doesn't mean she has to be rude."

"Not at all!"

"Not. At. All."

"Salt circle now, banter later," Adriel insisted, pulling out his chalk and walking towards one blood-stained wall. He quickly jotted down a forgotten symbol, hoping to something other than God that Camiel wasn't going on a massacre upstairs.
"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief."

Ecclesiastes 1: 18





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Thu Oct 06, 2016 2:14 pm
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JuliasSneezer says...



OLIVER ROBERTS:

Oliver heard Luke make a strangled choking noise as the others separated, each in a different direction, each with something to do. "What are we supposed to do?"

Oliver turned around, and set his face into a determined frown. "We get out, that' what." He stumbled through the dark as best he could in the pitch black darkness until he reached the door. He pressed his thumb upon the doorknob, and pulled back on it. "Come on," he urged under his breath. He heard a muffled noise behind him, and turned around. "Luke?"

No response.

"You've got to be kidding." He muttered, resorting to sarcasm to hide his own fear. He turned back to the knob. "Quit resorting to these petty pranks." Oliver felt a hand on his shoulder, and jumped. "Ah!" He turned around, glaring. "Seriouly, Lu- Hel-!" The hand clamped over his mouth, and dragged him away from the door.

He punched everywhere he could reach. Either his captor didn't feel it, or it wasn't giving him the satisfaction of knowing that it was in pain. He clamped his teeth upon two of the fingers. He tasted blood, but the stranger didn't even flinch. He then tried to scramble out of those arms. He felt a pinch in his shoulder, a feeling of ice flowing through his veins, and his vision began to swim. "Luke... help..." He whimpered, before losing consciousness.

***
When Oliver came to, he felt a tight something around his wrists. He adjusted his position in the chair, then felt a jolt of fear. "Where am I?" He wondered to himself, squinting to see in the inky darkness.

"Ah! Good morning, sleeping beauty." Luke's voice said behind him.

"Luke! Thank goodness you're here."

"Woah whoa, I'm not Superman,"

"Where are we?" Oliver wondered, reaching his fingers as far as they could go. He felt another rope. The one binding Luke's hands.

"I'm not sure. I heard a couple guys talking, something about a basement."

"Basement... that makes this harder," Oliver grumbled.

"Makes what harder?"

"Our daring escape." Oliver explained.

"Sounds good to me," Luke agreed.

"I need you to reach into my pocket."

"Right, okay." There was a brief rustling of clothing, which was interrupted by Oliver's girlish shriek.

"My pocket!"

"Oh! Crap. Sorry,"

"It's fine." Oliver frowned as he felt the pressure ebb away from his pocket as Luke withdrew his hand. "What's wrong?"

"There's nothing in there." Luke explained.

"Okay, plan B then."

"What's plan B?"

"This." Oliver stood up as best as he could tied to the chair. His heart lightened when he felt no ropes around his ankles. He then jumped as high as he could, and landed back on the chair. "Ow!"

"What are you doing?"

"Just- a- second!" On the last word, the chair was reduced to splinters. Oliver winced. "That'll bruise the tailbone. Stay still, I'll untie you." He made to untie the ropes, when he heard a door open.

"What are you doing?!"
"When in doubt, improvise!"
-Winny the woodpecker





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Sujana says...



Camiel

Spoiler! :
I'm posting twice because nobody's going to stop me I SHALL BRING THIS STORYBOOK TO RUIN HAHAHAHAHA


Camiel hated ghosts.

Human beings were annoying enough, but they weren't too dangerous. Angels and demons were often more composed, and knew their jurisdictions. Ghosts were simply the humans' habit of irrational anger and the divine beings' mystical powers combined--if Cam wasn't even more irrationally angry than any of the ghosts in Wildegate, he would've been dead already.

"Oliver? Oliver," a boy from the crowd called out in the darkness. Camiel turned to the windows, seeing if he could break the glass with a well-aimed punch. But there was no glass to break, nothing to crack. It was all wall. "Oliver. Oliver!"

"Jesus Christ, do you humans ever shut up?" Camiel scolded, his face turning red in the blackness.

"Where's Oliver?" the voice asked, "What's going on?"

"You're all going to die, that's what," he said, bluntly, "There's been murders in this house, one body found below. My partner and I were sent out to trap the ghost, but apparently some people," He glared into deep darkness, "still think it's a good idea to traverse a motherfucking haunted house on the most spiritually decadent part of the year."

"I don't care about that," the voice answered, "I just want to know where my friend went."

Camiel widened his eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Wasn't he here a few--"

And then he felt the hand reaching out for his shoulder. Camiel grabbed it, initially out of instinct, then out of will, throwing the arm over his shoulder and a body onto the ground. He heard a loud, womanly cry, and then a completely separate scream, most probably coming from the boy whose name he didn't know. "Stay close to me," Camiel screamed to the boy, trying to find the attackers' neck, "Don't run anywhere, you'll only get yourself killed."

He stamped his boots into what seemed like the ridges of a spine, reaching for the shoulders, then for the neck. His blood stopped for a moment, and he froze.

He couldn't find a head.

"Oliver!" The boy screamed, and though he was vexed by the noise, Camiel was grateful to hear he wasn't dead just yet. "What the--"

There was a choking noise, then, and Camiel jumped into action. He pulled out his spare pocket knife, jumping and lashing at the darkness. "Scream, kid!" he yelled, "Scream like your life depends on it!"

He heard a terrified muffle, and Camiel turned to his left, walking until the sound grew louder. He jumped at the two figures in embrace, then, pushing away the screaming child and wrestling with some sort of furry, yet human-like shape. "You--are--" a voice growled, "--ruining--our--"

Camiel howled. He felt a pinch on his arm, but not until he lodged a pocket knife into his opponents' chest. The Fur Man crumbled, slowly, before finally letting go of the angel.

Inhale. Exhale. Camiel pulled the knife out, staring into the darkness. Inhale. "Kid?" he turned back, his head beating the walls of his skull. "Kid."

Silence. He felt the skin of his arm, finding something hanging from his tricep. He pulled it out, feeling thin metal and liquid. A syringe. "Shit," he took note of the ache in his head, scowling. "Shit--"

"M--mister?" the boy piped up, suddenly. "Are you--is the thing--"

Camiel couldn't reply properly. He tried to, but he was too preoccupied with the world spinning around him. He held onto the side of the wall, trying to stay conscious. "Run," he managed, leaning onto the wall, "Run."

He wasn't there to hear the boy scream. He wasn't there to feel the boy holding his shoulders, either, trying to shake him awake. He wasn't there to see the boy dragged away, either, nor was he there to feel himself being carried by some strange form.
"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief."

Ecclesiastes 1: 18





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Thu Oct 06, 2016 7:10 pm
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sheysse says...



Skyla Holt




Delicately, I helped Orlando encircle the body in salt. After we had layered it sit hat it was about an inch thick and wide, we stepped back and admired our work.

"I'm confused. Do you not eat salt here? Is that like, a Canadian thing, or something," I asked. Adriel didn't answer. "Hello?"

"Be quiet. I hear something."

"Like?" Orlando asked. He tilted his head in an inquiring way.

"Like -" Suddenly, a force of wind exploded in the salt ring behind them. A deformed, mangled figure of a young girl appeared. She had mostly hanging, rotted skin, and her entire body glowed an eerie blue green.

"She can't leave that salt circle."

"Why? Is she allergic. No, wait if she had allergies, then the government would've already replaced her with a properly functioning human," I said, mentally abusing myself for my error.

"That was like our first unit in second grade Governmental Studies class," Orlando responded.

"Sooo, are we just gonna stare at its videos face? Or are we gonna exorcise it?" I asked.

"Exorcism time, Adriel said, smiling devilishly.

I piped up. "Great! I'll go get the bicycle pedal and Orlando, you grab the sink cap." Just as I finished, a gust of wind traversed the room, blowing the salt circle out of form.

The ghost leapt out of its broken bounds and grasped Orlando's neck. For a few seconds, it held onto him. His faced turned a sickening shad of blue, and he fell over. The ghost glee towards Adriel.

Adriel pulled out a gun and fired at the spirit. That bullets seemed to have some effect, and the ghost changed direction, targeting me.

It touched me and immediately disappeared in a puff of blue green smoke. To my left, Orlando got up slowly.

He looked at me. "Well, that was eventful."

I laughed. "Told you that Ghost Vaccine was a good call!"








"I never expected that I should be a queen so soon."
— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland