Chapter 4
A warm autumn breeze blew in threw the old windows as the morning sun began to rise above the horizon. Winnie let out a slight moan as she pulled a fuzzy stuffed object closer to her face. Her blue eyes fluttered open as she embraced the start of a new day. She glanced down, where she saw Psycho under her hand. Shocked, she thought of how he got there. Her mother wouldn’t care, and would have woken her up, not give her something to make her sleep better. Her father didn’t even know about Psycho. When she thought deeper about it, the only ones who did know about Psycho, were June and Cynthia.
She stood up, and felt the familiar cold breeze by her back. “No way,” she muttered under her breath as she looked over to where she felt the cold spot. Confused, Winnie picked herself up off the floor and went into the house, through the front door.
“Morning, Princess,” Winnie’s father greeted her. Winnie was glad she looked more like her dad. Most kids couldn’t choose, but she favored her father more than her mother. He wasn’t fat, but he was round, and he had Winnie’s light brown hair, gentle facial features, and sense of humor.
“Mornin’ Dad,” she said, not making eye contact. She didn’t want him to ask her about the night before. Her mother wasn’t home. She was off with some scary health group, finding out how to throw up every meal. Not asking anymore from her dad, she went upstairs. She closed the door behind her, and sighed.
It took her a couple steps for her to realize she had left the Ouija board on the back porch. Rolling her eyes to turn back, they caught the site of the Ouija board set up on her floor. “No,” she said to whomever she thought was listening. “I’m done with this thing.”
The planchette slowly moved to spell out what Winnie had been repeating since she got home the night before, “Sorry.”
Curious, she stepped closer to the board and asked, “Why are you sorry?”
The piece moved again. “Crystal is merciless.”
Winnie just stared at the board for a while. Crystal was the ghost at the cemetery. How did this ghost know? She asked with a hint of fear in her voice, “What do you know about this?”
She sat down when the planchette stopped all movement. It had left, without answering her question. Sighing, she closed her eyes in defeat. A crash of pens back by her desk caught her attention. On the desk was a note, written in bad handwriting.
“That wasn’t Crystal’s grave. She isn’t even buried in that cemetery. We were visiting the cemetery, and we thought it would be fun to give you and your friends a scare. Sorry.”
“So you played a hand in it?” Winnie asked sternly, glaring around the room, hoping to catch the ghost’s gaze. “Who the hell are you?”
Her eyes fell upon the mobile eyepiece. T-H-E-D-E-V-I-L, it spelled.
Winnie had to laugh. Who ever it was, they wanted to scare her again, and it wasn’t working. “The devil wouldn’t apologize,” she giggled, “What’s your name?”
L-U-C-I-F-E-R, the planchette spelled again.
“Oh,” she laughed, remembering that “Lucifer,” was another name for the devil. “Clever. Wait you’re the ghost that’s been haunting the house. Why are you here?”
Over a few minutes, Lucifer spelled, “I don’t like spelling,” and left the board.
“Lazy,” Winnie mumbled. She looked back over to the desk again, and saw her favorite pen writing, in more awful penmanship. Interested, she made her way to the desk, and read what he had written.
“Just say this aloud:
Beloved unknown spirit,
I seek your guidance.
I ask that you commune with me
And move amongst us”
Winnie was never one to give in without a fight, but she had no fight in her. It had all been overcome with curiosity. She read the incantation aloud, and sighed when nothing happened. Just as fast as she thought it was over, the windows of her room flew open with a large gust of wind. Protecting her eyes from any flying objects, she squinted against the wind to see what was happening. Her long black sleeves from the night before blew around wildly, and she felt the wind pushing her down. Colors started flying in the wind, and swirling around everywhere. She closed her eyes, and turned her head away from the sight.
The wind died down, and Winnie looked at her room. Everything was normal, except for the open windows. She pushed back her blue bangs, and stood up from the floor. “What the hell?”
“Hello, Winifred,” a deep voice said behind her. She looked over her shoulder, and jumped when she saw a boy only a couple years older than herself. His expression was sinister, but she could see kindness in his green eyes.
He brushed raven black hair out of his pale, purple hued face. His large coat was an old, worn, black trench coat. It was open, revealing an off white buttoned up shirt that was partially un-tucked and a pair of brown pants. His strong hand waved at her from his comfortable sitting position on her bed.
“Lucifer?” She reassured that the boy was whom she had previously communicated with. He nodded with a smirk, and stood up. “Nice to finally meet you, Winifred,” he said in his deep voice. Winnie noticed a hint of an accent when he spoke.
Winnie never thought that she was very short, but when Lucifer stood in front of her, their heights were a great difference. Her head was about to his shoulder. She looked up in a daze at the ghost, but shook it off, and she again asked why he was there.
“In 1873 I, Lucifer Vanson, died when my genius was at its climax.”
Winnie rolled her eyes.
“I had built up the greatest trick to go into the history books. I would have the posthumous name of the ‘Prankster Prince.’ However, when I went to perform my fantastic hoax, something went appallingly wrong,” his thespian story telling made Winnie smirk, “It ended in bane, and I didn’t survive.” He scratched his head, his tone going from over dramatic, to slightly nervous, and he looked grimly away from Winnie as he thought. “Winnet , do you know what happens when you die as a result of an accident?”
Winnie cocked her head, and raised an eyebrow. “I can guess,” she replied.
“If you are killed in an accident, or you’re murdered, your soul is cursed to roam the earth forever, except, if you know how and why it occurred. If you do, you have a choice of whether or not you want to move on, or stay amongst the living. Spiritually, of course. You can never come back from the dead.”
Winnie gawked blankly at the grim boy, and tried to understand what he had told her. “That must be a lot of people,” she found herself saying.
“It is,” he said with a sinister smile across his pale face, “But that just means more tricks.” To Winnie’s surprise, he floated a foot above her bed, and lay back in a “lazy boy” position; his arms behind his head, and his legs crossed as he closed his eyes and leaned back.
Winnie stared at him, not amused by his comment. A couple blinks and a sigh later, she shrugged and concluded, “So are you going back now?”
Shocked, Lucifer wiggled about in the air, to catch his balance, and looked bewilderedly back at Winnie, who was quite serious about the matter. “Wh-what are you talking about, Win?”
“Don’t call me that!” Winnie stomped her foot. She looked somberly away at the floor. Nobody called Winnie “Win,” except for June, and after the previous night’s events, she didn’t want to hear that name, especially not from one of the ghosts that turned her friends’ Halloween into a nightmare.
Lucifer glanced over, and levitated toward her. “Sorry, Winnet,” he placed his feet on the ground, and his hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged him off and walked over to her desk, where sat a picture of her and her friends posing in front of the high school. She looked at it with a depressed gaze, and turned it down. “Are you leaving?” She asked him again with her back turned.
Lucifer shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked away from her as he moved closer. “I hadn’t planned on it,” he told her.
“Why are you here then?” She looked up to his towering face, and stepped back when she saw how close they were. “Why did you have me summon you?”
“You are aware this used to be a church, correct?”
Winnie nodded, causing blue bangs to fall into her face.
“My funeral was here. I came here occasionally, once a year or so, because I wanted to see how it had changed over time. I came back about nineteen, twenty years ago, and a big, rich house replaced the church. I couldn’t take seeing it destroyed the way it was, so I didn’t come back in. I observed from outside.
“Few years ago, a girl started spending a lot of time in the woods. I started getting curious about her, and I followed her home one day. When I saw that she lived here, I was intrigued enough to start coming back to see who the girl was.”
“So you started to haunt me, in a sense. If that is the case,” Winnie put her finger to his hard chest, “Why did I only recently start to notice you?”
“I didn’t stalk you, Winnet,” he explained and pushed her finger aside, “I visited occasionally to see you and the church, but lately, and I’m not sure why, but I feel the need to keep an eye on you.”
“Keep an eye on me?” She quoted.
“Yes,” He said bluntly, “But don’t bother asking why. I think this is one of those things that you just do without question.”
“What do you mean?”
Lucifer’s eyes looked away and he bit his lip. “I honestly don’t know,” he said shrugging. “You know when you have those feelings that you have to do something?”
“Like that feeling that you need to go home and when you get there you see that that stove is still on?”
“Correct.”
“That’s why you’re here?”
Lucifer lifted his index finger and opened his mouth to answer, but not sure enough of what to say. He instead looked away to think while he scratched his head. “I think so,” he said.
Winnie crossed her arms and said, “Well I’m getting a feeling too, and my feeling is that I should send you back.” She closed up her Ouija board and glared back to her bed hoping that in doing so Lucifer would be gone. Smiling in relief, she closed her eyes and didn’t notice a tug on her dress until it was too late.
Im definately going to read more just to read more about him haha. Anyway, I like your writing style, everything just flows together very easily and effortlessly. I love that kind of style, it makes even the longest of stories no problem to read. Also, I love the attitiude of your character Winifred. I cant wait to read more about her too. Very good job! Keep writing, I cant wait to read more!