writtenbyjos - Tumblr blog

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Spellbound: A Ghostly Tale, Chapter 9

"Flyin' Solo"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

A small boy, just approaching his thirteenth year, lay under the covers with a thick cloth over his sickly, pale forehead. A croaky, hoarse cough escaped from his blue lips , and beads of sweat dotted his temples. As he approached the archway, Stinkie's view of the boy grew larger - more gruesome. There were five other people in the room, sitting in silence, not one daring to move. Stinkie put a sympathetic hand on the shoulder of the man sitting in a small rocking chair with his fingers tightly clasped around the back of his neck, his rounded glasses hanging loosely off the tip of his nose.

"Brother," the man said, rising from his fatigue. He brought him in for a tight hug and a firm pat on the back. He beckoned Stinkie out into the hallway where the December snowflakes piled up against the hallway window.

"How's he holding up, J.T.?" He asked quietly. J.T. shook his head slowly and wiped his face with a sigh. He glanced at the boy through the doorway and lowered his voice.

"We'll be lucky if he makes it until Monday evening," he said closing his eyes.

"He was fine, just last week," Stinkie said.

J.T. nodded and adjusted his loosened tie. "Well, Dr. Peterson said the best thing we could do is to keep him comfortable." He didn't take his eyes off the boy lying in the bed, holding onto his last inch of life.

Stinkie looked in his hand at a small paper bag he'd been carrying. He walked slowly towards the boy, kneeling down gently next to him and giving him a smile.

"Uncle Joey…?" A vague smile flickered on the boy's face.

"Hey kid," he rubbed his forehead and moved a couple of stray, sweaty blonde hairs out f his eyes with his thumb. "How ya hangin' in there?"

The boy answered with a shriveled cough and a wheeze in pain. "My chest hurts." He looked over at the woman standing by his bedside, a rag in her hand and a bowl in the other. A solum but kind expression rested on her tired face. She looked down at the rag and squeezed it lightly.

"Your mama's taking good care o' you," Stinkie said, facing the woman.

She smiled and relaxed her shoulders. Even though her hair was pulled up a few strands were running astray, and her eyes were bloodshot.

"I know," the boy said, so faint it was barely audible. "That's what she does best." Stinkie looked over at the last two men sitting close to the boy's mother, and a shorter woman clutching one of them on the bicep tightly. He broke free of her grasp and stood. Gently, he reached forward to squeeze the tired woman's hand. He bent to kiss her lightly on the forehead, but said nothing, only looking at her son with a pained expression on his face. The other sat with his large hands hiding his mouth, fighting back tears.

He looked back at the boy. "Hey, um, short stack, I've got something for ya…" Stinkie reached into the bag and pulled out Boo, his teddy bear and oldest companion. "Now, Boo here is very special. Promise you'll take care a' 'im for me?" He handed the beat up stuffed animal to the sickly boy, who nodded slowly and reached out his hands. A shiver ran through the room as he exposed his darkened, dead looking fingertips. Stinkie flinched and closed his eyes, instantly regretting it as the boy began to cry softly.

"I'm scared, Mama, I'm so scared…"

His mother sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her lips to his forehead, whispering softly to him. "Shhh, it's okay to be scared, love. But everything is going to be okay." She gently wiped the sweat away with the cloth and smiled reassuringly.

Stinkie staggered away to the corner, still clutching the bag between his sweaty palms. He bit his lip in worry at her slightly forced expression.

The boy shivered under his covers. "Am I going to die?" He asked quietly.

"Hush, you shouldn't speak of such things," the worry became more obvious in her voice now.

"It's okay, mother, please don't cry," he said. "Please, mama…"

"Uncle Stinkie…?" Stinkie woke with a start, his hands draped over the side of an old, velvet arm chair situated in a dark corner. To his surprise, Boo was caught in the high clutch of his right hand. He blinked a few times and shook his head violently, coming eye to eye with a very confused Casper. Stinkie squinted and saw the same blue eyes that had blinked up at him from the dying boy.

He felt like the heart he once had would burst.

"Oh, Casper!" With wide eyes he flew right towards him and scooped him up into a hug, twirling him around in the air. It only took Stinkie about a minute to realize what had just happened—it took Casper about five seconds.

"Um, Uncle Stinkie…?" Casper said, his voice muffled in his uncles embrace. Stinkie opened his eyes and let go immediately, his face twisting in confusion.

"Casper…I…"

"Are we interrupting something…?" Lucy and Kat appeared in the doorway, their expressions blank. His face cleared when he saw Lucy, she was so cute and—uh oh, he was starting to stare.

"Nothin'…just—just tellin' Bulbhead ova 'ere to mind 'is own business." He grumbled, crossing his arms.

"But you—" Casper began to say.

"…have business to take care of—business that ain't yours." With that, he huffed and flew out of the room, unable to hide how flustered he was. The teddy bear fell from his grip and onto the dusty ground.

"Stinkie, wait," Lucy tried to grab his arm, but her hand went straight through his nonexistent skin. She drew back her hand quickly, sighing. She knelt down and picked up the teddy bear, dusting it off carefully.

Without looking back, Stinkie flew down the stairs, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. And what was this warm feeling in his chest? He scoffed and shivered, trying to rid himself of the fuzzy sensation.

What a no good, terrible, awful way to start off the morning. Finally, he had a decent run in with Lucy and he blew it, all sky high. But what had happened? A dream? A memory? He hadn't had one of those in a long time, especially not one with such familiar faces. Lost in his thoughts, he glided down to the kitchen, losing track of his brothers' whereabouts and not giving a second thought to the harsh judgment that would most likely follow.

Upon entering the kitchen doors he found an unsuspecting James humming the "Munster's" theme song rather loudly while pouring himself a glass of milk. Stinkie took advantage of this opportunity and disappeared into the countertop, popping out just as James raised the glass to his lips.

"Mornin' Doc!" He yelled, cackling aloud as James choked violently on his spilled milk. He slammed the glass down clutching his chest and coughing.

"Notin' like a good ole' mornin' scare to get the blood a' pumpin'!" He laughed, diving for the fridge door. James gave him a sour look and wiped his mouth on his sleeve as Stinkie took a long, sarcastic sip of orange juice straight from the jug.

"I thought it safe to assume we were past the jump scares. Guess I shouldn't have jumped to such radical conclusions," he shook his head.

"You know what 'dey say Doc!" Stinkie smiled and put his arm around him. "Makes an ass outta you," he jabbed a finger at James's chest, "…and me!" He held the jug in his hand this time and took a large sip before slamming it down on the counter and letting out a loud and satisfying belch.

"Always a pleasure Stinkie," James forced a patient smile. "Are your brothers up yet? Your session starts in five minutes."

"Is it time ta undermine our feelings and listen to all your wishy washy medical talk?" Stinkie stuck out his tongue and made James chuckle lightly.

"You mean like 'defense mechanisms'?"

Stinkie frowned and rolled his eyes. "I ain't 'defensive'!" He said in a mocking tone.

James gave him a look. "I'll see you in my office in three minutes."

Stinkie sat twiddling his thumbs together, alone and stranded on an old red couch across from a silent James. With one leg crossed and his bent glasses perched on the tip of his nose he looked ready to probe and dissect Stinkie's every word with razor sharp precision. He tapped his pencil on his clipboard lightly.

"It's so rare that I get solo sessions with any of you. Ever." He raised his eye brows. "And, I've been anxious to talk to you."

"Why, little ole' me?" Stinkie flashed some fake eyelashes and chuckled to himself, but his shoulders dropped when he glanced around and found the rest of the couch unoccupied.

"Not so easy when your brothers aren't around?" James asked quietly.

Stinkie felt like he might blow chunks—and not the good kind. He thought back to his dream, and all the photos and memorabilia he'd found in the attic thanks to Lucy—Lucy. Oh right, Lucy.

"…Stinkie?" James snapped his fingers. Stinkie shook his head and blinked.

"Wha…?"

"I asked how you're feeling today."

Stinkie was silent. How was he feeling today? He'd never really thought about it before. He hadn't spent a night alone in over a century…he never really thought he'd enjoy the solitude so much.

James frowned and tilted his head. "Try the mood chart!" He quickly pulled out a long, laminated chart with a multitude of faces on them, all with corresponding feelings. "What face do you identify with today, Stinkie?" He asked, almost giddy.

Stink squinted and looked over every face. There was number one, which showcased a green face and puffy cheeks titled, "icky". He liked that one a lot. But then another, a face that was misshapen and had wide eyes, called "anxious". He liked that one too. But the one that caught his attention the most was a solemn face, tinted blue. This was called "a little blue". Unconsciously he pointed to it and mimicked that face on the paper.

"You're feeling blue?" James asked a little surprised. Stinkie rubbed his forehead and lifted his tail to exit the room.

"Maybe this ain't such a good idea, Doc."

James quickly jumped to his feet and shook his hands.

"No, no, no! You're finally opening up about you innermost feelings! This is phenomenal progress, Stinkie! We must proceed!"

Stinkie reluctantly sat down and crossed his arms.

"Why don't we start with why you're feeling blue," he picked up his pencil and scribbled something on his clipboard.

"I—uh…heh…" he rubbed the back of his crooked neck slowly, trying to think of something to say. "I had a dream last night, or at least what I think was a dream."

James nodded slowly, urging him to continue.

"What happened in the dream, Stinkie?" He asked.

As he thought back on the events of the dream, it made Stinkie feels something he hadn't in a long time—sadness. True, raw sadness.

"See, dere was a room, with lots of people in it," he motioned with his hands. "…And a boy, laying sick in bed. I think it was…Casper." His voice softened.

James stopped writing immediately and furrowed his brow.

"What did he look like, Casper?" He said shifting his legs into the chair.

Stinkie shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"It was awful, Doc. He was pale and sweaty and coughin' a whole lot." He caught a consoling look from James, and this made him feel strangely vulnerable. "I brought him my old teddy bear, Boo. And his mother was there wid' 'im…. wipin' his tears."

"Perhaps, this was how Casper passed?"

Stinkie nodded. "And…" he stopped in his tracks, trying to remember. "J.T. was there too."

"Who is J.T.?" He asked.

"John…" Stinkie said pounding the couch lightly with his fist. "John…Thomas. My brothah. Our brothah. But… that's all I can remembah." James looked at Stinkie with a consoling glance.

"But 'ey, I ain't losing sleep ovah it, I mean, he's a ghost like us now anyways." He said stiffening his back.

"One you constantly belittle, bully, and take your anger out on?"

Stinkie shrunk back into the couch with each word.

"You know, you don't have to conceal your feelings, not even from your brothers," he continued, furrowing his brow. "Not here."

"Pfft, I nevah shoulda went through all my old stuff. It brought me nothin' but old, sad memories. I'm already dead, they can't do me any good now!" Stinkie shook his head miserably.

"They could, you know."

Stinkie shot him a disbelieving look.

James sighed and sat quiet for a moment, thinking. "You mean to say, that the objects you found somehow spawned this phenomena? That they caused you to actually remember an important moment for your life?"

"I don't know if you'd call it important…." he said, cautiously.

"John Hopkins!" James exclaimed, suddenly. "A breakthrough!" He laughed so hard that his glasses nearly fell off his nose. "A whole year of shenanigans, pranks and some ruined trousers and we're finally getting somewhere!" He jumped up from his chair and stopped in mid dance, clearing his throat.

Stinkie sat there picking from his ear and pulling out an impressive amount of slimy, green, earwax. James sat back down and brushed off his sweater-vest. "I mean, excellent job, Stinkie, this means we're making progress at last." He beamed at the ghost.

"To be poifectly honest wit ya Doc, I'm not sure exactly what it is I did to get ya knickers in such a twist," he crossed his arms, still miffed.

"Stinkie don't you see?" James said. "We're another step closer to figuring out your unfinished business. What made you deny your right to a happy and peaceful afterlife…why you didn't cross over."

"Oh brothah, are you still on about that, Doc? If we've told ya once, we've told ya a million times. We ain't crossin' ovah, because we like bein' ghosts! We're meant to be here," he growled.

"We?" James, said squinting.

Stinkie followed James' look to the empty cushions beside him and scowled.

"Me," he said defensively, pointing a thumb to his chest.

"You said 'we'. Curious. You don't do things without your brothers very often do you?"

"Why the hell would I wanna do that?" He crossed his arms. "They're all I got in this afterlife."

James smiled and nodded, writing down on his clipboard.

"Whataya smirkin' at, huh?" He snapped.

"I want to know how you feel. You, Stinkie." James pointed to him with his pencil.

"About what?" He asked surprised.

"How do you feel about crossing over?"

"Okay Doc, I'll play your game…" he sulked. "Say I do crossover. Leave my brothahs here. Abandon them. Leave the only home I've ever haunted. Bullshit. I ain't goin' nowhere."

James was silent but nodded. A couple of awkward moments went by and nothing was said, leaving Stinkie frustrated. Why wasn't Doc saying anything? Judging him no doubt. "You know you act like you know everything but you don't know us! And you sure as hell don't know me," He snarled.

"I have my guesses," he said calmly.

Stinkie waved his hand derisively. "Be my guest, but you's wrong, whatever your little guesses are," he said, pompously.

"Well, Stinkie…I'm detecting fear in your voice. Hesitation. You're scared to be alone. We could've easily moved on in this process months ago if you'd been willing to, any of you three. But that would bring about the possibility of leaving your brothers behind, and perhaps the possibility that there's no one waiting for you on the other side." He tapped his pencil. "Am I close?"

"Couldn't be further from the truth," Stinkie lied, James's words burning straight through his head like a bullet.

"I see," James said. "Then let's move on. What else can you tell me about the dream?"

"Nothin'. I told you I don't remember anything else, 'bout it."

"Is it possible you've tried to subconsciously block all the memories due to early childhood trauma?" James asked, point blank.

"Look, Doc," he shot up. "While I was goin' through all da pictures and da old toys, it just made me realize how much I love bein' dead! Dead, dead, dead. Dead as a doornail. And that I never want to relive anything from when I was alive!" He crossed his arms, feeling pleased with himself.

"Yet, here you are." James smiled.

"Me bein' a ghost ain't got nothin' to do with my old life. That part of me died a long time ago."

James shook his head and set down his clipboard. "But don't you see? It has everything to do with your life. All this denial and emptiness is holding you back from crossing into the light. And you know what, Stinkie? You've just gotten so lost, putting on this act, playing the clown, masking your unhappiness that you've completely lost sight of it and how to get back on your feet." James crossed his leg and picked up his clipboard again. "You've all forgotten who you are. It's clearest to me now that the living impaired suffer far more than the living could ever imagine."

A long moment of silence hung in the air, thickening the solemn mood. Finally, Stinkie spoke.

"…so who am I then, Doc?" Stinkie asked.

"Well, if you accept my help, maybe we can come to find out together. Your brothers too!"

Stinkie fiddled with a stray piece of fabric, detaching itself from the rest of the couch and twisted it between his fingers.

"I'm not proposing that it'll be easy, and there might be some painful things to uncover. But it's all part of the process of crossing over." James said softly.

"Right…crossing over."

1 note · View note

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Spellbound: A Ghostly Tale, Chapter 8

"Lost In The Aftermath"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Stinkie looked around, from the motorcycle he'd technically stolen, to the place where Lucy just disappeared, and then to the clear sky above him. He couldn't help but think of the ugly fate that awaited him back at the mansion…what would Stretch do to him if he'd seen him kiss a fleshie? Seen him kiss Lucy? And what about her? What would she think if she knew the truth? She wouldn't want anything to do with him, he was sure. But maybe she'd never have to find out the truth… a small rumble in his stomach interrupted his thinking. His head shook, and he watched as his limbs began to twitch spastically. Falling to the ground, he arched his back and felt his eyes roll to the back of his head. This pinhead was finally fighting back, he'd almost forgotten he was in someone else's body.

Stinkie felt for the widest exit and slithered through his victim's mouth like a snake. He slithered across the ground and stretched his arms with a loud groan. He quickly made himself invisible as the lazy lump laying on the ground regained consciousness. Stinkie raced to the nearest high tree branch and sat, watching the specimen lift himself up on his arms and shake his head violently.

"Woah," he looked around, bewildered. Once he got to his feet, he squinted and smoothed his large part back behind his ears. "That was dope." He cracked a grin.

Oh boy, what a brainiac this guy was.

"Wait, where the hell am I?"

Stinkie sighed, looking at his white, transparent hands. As empty-headed as this guy seemed, he had to admit he was more handsome. And more human.

Stinkie shook his head of that. His fairytale night was over and he needed to move on. He sighed and watched the so called, "Tom Browning" hop onto his motorcycle and drive away with ease.

"Pft," Stinkie smirked. "Can't even drive da damn thing right." He sulked on the weathering branch and crossed his arms sporting a pouty look.

After five or so minutes of non productive pouting, Stinkie rose from the branch and began his short trek back to Whipstaff. He felt the wind blow through his body and closed his eyes as he flew. What was this tingly, knot-like feeling in the pit of his tail? Fear? Anxiety? He had't felt anxious since the one time when Stretch disappeared for a week and came back with a drinking problem and a new tattoo on his right bicep.

Wait… Stinkie stopped mid-flight. Did I just…remember? He rubbed his head. He did…he remembered something from his past. Stretch… No—no. Vin—Vinnie? Vincent! Stinkie pondered this for a moment. And then he was slapped in the face with a cold, hard piece of reality. Stretch. Stretch was going to kick his ass when he got home. He slumped his shoulders, sighed, and glided through the northern sky, completely immune to the blisteringly cold air that nipped at his large nose.

Cutting through the park, he started eyeing people walking hand in hand along the garden paths he found himself lost in his own thoughts, eventually wandering back to the shape of Lucy's hips and how they swayed to the loud music at the ball. The way her hair bounced when she ran, how her lips were so small and perfectly sculpted and—

"No!" He yelled in exasperation. He held his head and shook it. Stop it, stop it, stop it! He thought. "Get a hold o' yaself!" He slapped his face and shook his head. "She's a human, you's an undead apparition."

"But maybe…" he began to slip into a daze, but caught himself. "No, no, no! Gah!" He grabbed his head and bent forward, trying to shake the thought of Lucy right out of his ears. "I gotta get outta 'ere."

Stinkie flew in silence and watched as the color from the sky seemed to drain to an opaque grayish tone. He approached the mansion and hovered in the air with a solum frown.

"Well," he sighed. "'Ere goes nothin'."

He flew through the doors and looked around slowly. No movement, no sounds. Shoulders slumping in relief, he began to ascend the staircase to his room, trying not to make a sound. When he entered through the wall he wasn't met with two sleeping ghosts, but four eyes glowing red with anger.

"What da hell was you thinkin'?" Stretch snapped, squinting his eyes in a glare.

"You left us, alone on da battlefield!" Fatso mimicked severing his head and held it in his hands, playing dead.

"Things coulda gone a lot woise," Stretch looked Fatso's way and smirked. "But you still abandoned ya duty! Ya left all google eyed with some air sucker!" Stretch popped his eyes out and wiggled his long, nimble fingers. Stinkie floated in the doorway rubbing his arm, feeling shame crawl up his neck.

"I know, I know. I'm a lousy brotha, I 'eard it all before," he sighed and sat on his bed with a frown.

"What was goin' on in that big, head a yours, huh?" Stretch's voice softened, much to Stinkie's surprise he looked genuinely upset.

"I was…" Stinkie began, Fatso and Stretch leaning in close with suspicious eyes.

"Yeah?" They said in unison.

It was at that moment when there was a loud banging on the door, and Stinkie added this interruption to his short list of blessings, grateful that he wouldn't have to answer his brothers' prying questions, for the time being.

"Open up!" Kat called from outside the door, her voice raised in anger.

"Hey, no girls allowed!" Fatso pulled the covers up to his chest and squeaked. "I don't have my boxers on!"

Kat barged in with her face glowing red like a Christmas tree ornament.

"What," she said gripping the doorknob. "…was that?" "Good evening to you too, Kitty Kat," Stretch snickered.

"Thank you for gracing us wit your presence," Stinkie muttered and crossed his arms.

"Don't play games with me, slick. What the hell was that?" She was practically fuming.

"What?" They all questioned, feigning innocence.

"Quit playing dumb! You guys totally wrecked the whole party! The entire town is traumatized and the whole school's gonna think I had something to do with it!" She crossed her arms and huffed. "'There goes Kat, the freaky ghost girl!' Remember the halloween party?"

"Poor kid," Stretch pouted his lower lip. "Did you hear dat boys? The whole school is gonna be talkin'!" They all held their hands to their faces in fear and laughed.

"It's a hard knock death, for us! It's a hard knock death for us!" They sang, crowding her as she sulked.

"I was just trying to do something nice for Lucy! Now she's never gonna leave her room."

"Well ain't that a damn shame," Stretch said sarcastically. "Now we'll nevah get to see dat freak, Lulu." He snickered along with his brothers. But behind his smug chuckle, Stinkie felt a burning feeling in his chest at Stretch's snide comment.

"It's Lucy," Kat said under her breath. "All three of you stay away from her. The last thing she needs is the likes of you making things more complicated for her." She waved her pointed finger towards all of them. Fatso threw up his hands in surrender.

"Oh it's so hard being an air breather, oh my shoes are too tight, oh I didn't get asked to the dance, oh I have bills to pay, oh bleh!" Stretch waved his hand. "Better for us that we don't have to die another day to see anothah fleshie in our domicile. Now get out." Stretch opened the door and held out his hand.

Kat turned on her heel and stomped out the door in a huff, the Ghostly Trio bobbing their heads out one by one, watching as she headed down the hall.

"Sweet nightmares, Kitty Kat!" Stretch sing sung.

"Don't forget, the bats smell fear!" Fatso called.

"'Stead of kisses, we get killed, 'stead of livin' we are dead, it's a hard knock life!" They sang together falling back on their beds, rolling with laughter.

"'Dat nevah gets old," Stretch said wiping tear from his eye.

"Wind her up and watch her goooo…" Fatso made himself into a deflating balloon and spun around the room.

"Well boys I'm butched," Stretch yawned, his mouth expanding about two feet. "I'm gonna get some shut eye for da night." He cooed and snuggled under the covers, situating himself into a comfortable, rolled up position.

"But first a midnight snack," Fatso reached into his pillow and pulled out a footlong hoagie, swallowing the whole thing in one bite.

He rubbed his belly and smacked a few times before settling into bed. They were both snoring within a matter of seconds. Instead of his usual routine however, Stinkie stretched his arms and propped his hands under his head. He lay that way for a long while, unable to sleep. And then he did something even more curious, he reached from under his bead and pulled out a small knit blanket that was folded neatly in a wooden box and smelled it. He sighed and held it close turning on his side. Kat's words were ringing in his head: "All three of you stay away from her…" Then a scary, more unsettling thought crossed his mind scape, giving him goosebumps down his non-existent pale arms: Maybe I don't want to stay away from Lucy…

He sat up and rubbed his face. He needed some milk. Yea, yea, milk sounded good. He looked at his brothers to make sure they were sound asleep and slowly rose from his bed and snuck out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.

Lucy was awake too, but instead she was busying herself with charm making since the last one had failed so terribly. She swore to herself to be more careful this time. She glanced at the balcony and glided over, opening the door to let in the moonlight.

"Like Ona said, just a pinch will do the trick."

She carefully opened the cork of a tiny, glass vial, and held it up towards the moon ever so slightly. Her small hand shook and she nearly dropped it trying to seal it back again. Once closed, she blew a strand of hair out of her face and sighed.

Gliding over to the table, she set down the vial and picked up a small piece of parchment, squinting at the small print.

"Three tears, check. Strand of hair, check," Lucy winced and glanced upward. "Full moon, moonlight…check." She straightened her back and smiled. "And last but not least," She read and shot back in exhaustion. "Rosemary? Really, Ona?" She let her hand fall and looked towards the door. "Surely Casper wouldn't mind if I snuck some from the kitchen…" she set down the parchment and slipped on her nightgown.

Carefully, she draped a silk cloth over the bowl and headed quietly out the door. She glanced at Kat and Casper's room, hoping they'd still be asleep. Both doors were closed. The realm of the Ghastly Trio, closed. The snoring was prevalent. She deemed it safe to wander onward to the kitchen. She looked at the main hall from the staircase and smiled. She'd never seen it late at night before. The moon was radiant and shown through the large windows surrounding the room. It was peaceful and quiet, yet solemn at the same time.

She stepped lightly and quickly down he stairs and made her way through the kitchen. She popped her head in the doorway. Empty. She sighed in relief and made her way looking through the cabinets, searching for a spice rack of sorts. She grabbed what looked like a bottle of rosemary and examined it. Success! She did a small victory dance and turned on her heel and walked the opposite direction of the counter.

Just as she turned, she tripped and fell flat on her face, dropping the rosemary bottle with a thump. She sat up and rubbed her head, and hesitantly lifted her gaze. The two brown eyes that met hers almost made her wet herself. She froze in place and felt her joints stiffen. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move…she couldn't do anything. She was staring straight at Stinkie, the one she had ran into completely naked just a week before.

His appearance was almost laughable, his eyes bloodshot and droopy, there was milk stained on his mouth and floor marks on the side of his face. But Lucy was in no laughing mood.

"I…" she tried to speak but no words were coming out.

"Um…at least you ain't naked this time…?" Stinkie blurted out awkwardly. Lucy felt her cheeks turn bright red. Stinkie shook his head and floated upwards. He held out his hand for her to take and she eyed it suspiciously.

"I'm sorry I was such a jerk beforah," he said, not retracting his hand. Lucy nodded and slowly took it in hers. It was cold, tingly, and unlike anything she'd felt before. She stood up and looked at the broken glass on the floor.

"Ah don't worry, short sheet'll get it tomorrow mornin'." He shrugged and smiled. Noticing her blank expression his smile slipped away and he cleared his throat.

Lucy tried to stifle a grin but felt more like she'd passed gas. How awkward could this possibly get? She motioned with her mouth while looking at his rugged appearance.

"Oh, what, 'dis? It's just milk. Couldn't sleep… so—I—fell asleep on da floor."

She chuckled lightly and he immediately stood up straighter.

"I came to get rosemary," she said, glancing at the floor. "That didn't really work out."

"Yea, yea I'll be feelin' that tomorrow," he held his tail up in one hand as if to examine it for bruises.

"Sorry," Lucy said, looking at her feet.

"Oh that's nothin'! In da summa o' '79 me and my bortha's, we was wrestlin' see," he motioned with his hands. "And Fatso dog piled me so hard on the tail that it was crooked for a week." He laughed to himself.

Lucy realized that this was the first time she'd seen him genuinely smile. No maliciousness, just happy memories. He met her glance and she got butterflies in her stomach. She thought back to the photo she'd seen of that same, kind smile.

"Lucy?" He asked.

"Huh?" She snapped back into reality and caught herself staring. "Right, sorry. Still pretty tired, I guess."

"No I mean…can we start ovah?" He looked at her pleadingly.

Lucy squinted suspiciously.

Immediately, Stinkie threw his hands in the air. "No gimmicks, da boys are still asleep. Just little ole' me."

She thought for a moment, then held out her hand.

"My name is Lucy Gilliam. It's nice to meet you."

He grinned and took her hand in his. "Mine's Stinkie. Pleased to meet ya." They shook hands and smiled at one another.

She shot back a little upon touching his hand, still not used to the feeling of literally touching the undead.

"You're, you're freezing!" She examined her hand and made a face.

"Yeah well, you get used to it aftah, I dun know, a century give or take?" He looked at his hand.

"You know, you're nicer than I thought you were," Lucy pulled the sleeve of her shirt over her cold fingers, smiling at Stinkie's look of surprise.

"You're not as weird as I thought you were."

Wow, what a compliment. "Gee, thanks." Immediately she saw him become very flustered, scrambling to remedy his mistake.

"Well I didn't think you was weird, or a freak, I mean I did, but that was before I—" his cheeks went red during his struggle to come up with an excuse.

"Stinkie?"

"Yeah?" He asked quietly in a cute, sheepish voice.

"I was kidding…"

Stinkie moved his lips in an attempt to say something, but just paused and lowered his hand. "Right."

There was an awkward moment of silence that filled the room, other than the pale moonlight that shone through the windows. Lucy tapped her fingers on the kitchen counter and Stinkie sniffed a couple of times. The one minute that consisted of no talking felt like it would go on forever. Finally, Lucy laughed slightly and furrowed her brow.

"Why 'Stinkie?'" She asked him. He pondered this question and tapped his large nose slightly.

"I…" he looked slightly bemused. "…I don't know." He laughed slightly. "Must've been because of somethin' when I was a fleshie."

"You mean, you don't remember your past life?" Lucy felt sorry for the ghost.

"Nada. It's been so long—since I—'remembered' anythin'," he motioned with air quotations. "I don't think I even remembah my own name." He said blankly, looking at the ground.

Lucy was silent. She'd seen memory blips and amnesia before, but nothing like this…

"Sometimes I wish I could forget," she said quietly, closing her eyes.

"What? A pretty girl like you? What do you have to forget?" He said, showing his front buck teeth.

"A lot," she began fiddling with her hands.

"At least you can remembah."

Lucy looked at him and flattened her mouth.

"I don't even know what color my hair was. Did I even have any hair? I wouldn't know!" His eyes widened in distress.

"…do you want to find out?" Lucy asked, biting her lip.

Lucy and Stinkie navigated the mansion to find the attic. Lucy had to admit, she wasn't good at a lot of things, but she did have a wicked good memory. Through passageways and up staircases, Stinkie and her ventured until they found the attic door.

"Is this da attic?" He asked, frowning.

"Yeah, come on!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the door.

Stinkie looked around, bewildered by all the old stuff piled all the way to the ceiling. Lucy stood with her hands behind her back next to the chest where she'd found the teddy bear. She felt a warm feeling in her stomach as she watched him slowly explore his surroundings.

"I was up here the other day looking for a costume for the party and…" Stinkie looked up at her wildly and froze.

"The pahty?" He exclaimed with fear in his eyes.

"Yeah…? The masquerade party? You guys made fun of…my dress." She frowned, the sickening feeling slowly creeping back into her mind as well as the bad jokes they'd made about her, Kat, and Casper.

"They pushed me into it," he interjected quickly. "You looked—" Stinkie froze. "…nice."

Lucy smiled and shook her head.

"Anyways," he continued, "I wouldn't know anything about that party, cause I wasn't there." He gulped holding up his pointer finger and one hand behind his back.

"Right…" she said, perplexed. He sure was acting odd all of the sudden considering the calm demeanor he'd just had on the way to the attic. "…anyway, Kat, Casper, and I came across a lot of…memorabilia." Stinkie raised an eyebrow and made his way over to her slowly.

Stinkie opened the chest slowly, and Lucy peered over his shoulder and watched, with caution. Once it was open, he stared blankly at every object. He brushed his hand over the picture frame and picked it up, rubbing a finger over the sly grin the man in the picture held.

"Is that you?" Lucy asked, kneeling down and resting her arm on the rim of the chest. He nodded slowly.

"I think we got our answer," he said seriously.

"To what?" She looked up, worried.

"I did have hair," he held up the picture and made the same, cunning grin as photographed in the picture.

Lucy got that burning feeling in the pit of her stomach again. She could see it now, the same kind brown eyes, and the same large nose. She giggled and moved around some more objects in the chest for him to examine. They both laughed at some old pictures of Stinkie and his brothers, and the ridiculous outfits they bore from old bowties to slicked back hair. Stinkie pointed out how tall Stretch was, even in his youth.

"He got teased all da time for bein' so tall. The kids in town called him 'Stretch'. Dat's how he got 'is nickname." Stinkie smiled imitating a face Stretch had made in another photo. "You can imagine how Fatso got his nickname." He snickered, causing Lucy to hit him lightly on the shoulder.

"So? How'd you get yours?" She asked now completely mesmerized by his stories.

Stinkie rummaged through he chest and held up picture of him, in overalls with a straw hat, masking his unkept hair. He was smiling widely.

"Heh," He muttered. "I spent most o' my time in my uncle's barn…and I hated takin' showers." He pointed to the cows in the pictures.

Lucy snorted and buried her head in her arm.

"I'd be out there for days at a time, until we moved to…" he furrowed his brow. "Whipstaff." He looked around and wiped his nose. He set the picture down and froze for a moment. He reached in and pulled out the teddy bear Lucy had found.

His reaction was surprising; Stinkie fiddled with the torn ears and the red satin bow, almost completely faded to a sickly grey color. He was focusing so hard on the bear, Lucy wondered if he even noticed she was still there. She reached over and put a calm hand on his arm. He jumped and smiled halfway, then sunk back into his serious demeanor.

"Stinkie?" She asked quietly.

"Hmm?" He asked, but didn't look up from the bear in his clutch.

"Are you alright?"

"…It's just…" He stroked its head softly. "I think I'm remembahrin' some 'a da bad stuff is all. 'Is name's Boo." Lucy smiled. "Sometimes it was just me and Boo against the world. From nightmares to Pa's outbreaks, 'dis lil guy served me well. 'E was especially handy for my panic attacks." He mused. "Heh, Ma thought I was possessed by demons or somethin'! Ain't that a hoot?" He laughed ad Lucy forced a nervous chuckle. "I remembah it gettin' better for a while aftah Charlie came to Whipstaff. But then woise again aftah…" He slumped his shoulders. "Never mind." He said closing his eyes.

Lucy sat straight up and startled Stinkie to the point of dropping the teddy bear in through his lap and onto the ground.

"Geez! What's your deal? Got bugs in ya pants or somethin'?" He asked.

"You remembered," she said, looking straight at Stinkie. His smiled faded into a look of sheer surprise

"I—I remembahed?" He stared at his shaking hands. Lucy stood up and laughed putting her hands to her mouth.

"You remembered!"

Stinkie looked at her and scooped her up into a hug.

They laughed and twirled in the air for a split second. For a split second they departed with their hands intertwined. And for a split second Lucy felt something. But it didn't last. They both let go instantly smiled awkwardly. Lucy fiddled with her hair and looked at the ground. They avoided each others' glance, but their eyes soon met again. They each let out a sigh and Lucy could feel her cheeks blushing furiously.

"Well, Congratulations!" Lucy held out her hand and Stinkie shook it firmly.

"Couldn't have done it without you." He said. "Thank you."

Lucy waved her hand and made a raspberry with her mouth.

"Oh it was nothing." Another moment of silence. "Hey, listen. I'm gonna head back downstairs…"

Stinkie nodded and rubbed his arm.

"You should stay up here a while, if you want." She suggested.

Stinkie smiled and looked around and back at the chest.

"Yeah, I think I will. I've got some remembering to do."

#casper 1995 #casper the friendly ghost #the ghostly trio #casper fan fiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #casper #casper the ghost #fanfic #ao3 writer #witchy aesthetic #witchcore #witchcraft #short stories #fiction

1 note · View note

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Spellbound: A Ghostly Tale, Chapter 7

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Saturday, October fifth approached with haste, and the whole town was talking. Not because of the Jerry Spinster's mysterious heart attack he had to be hospitalized for, but of the annual Harvest Festival.

"A little eyeliner never hurt anyone, now hold still," Kat took her charcoal liner under Lucy's crooked eyes.

"Um, Kat?" She said, looking up. "It feels like you're stabbing me in the eye with a pen," she muttered quietly.

"Honestly, what's the difference?" Kat smudged it with her thumbs and stepped back to look at her work. She smiled and turned Lucy around in her stool so she could see herself in the mirror.

"You know I used to really hate makeup," Kat said. "But then I realized it's kinda a chick's best friend; a little bit can go a long way."

Lucy touched her face and turned to see every angle, but didn't say anything.

"You okay?" Kat asked.

"I…" Lucy whispered. "I like it." She smiled softly. "I never really go the chance to go to a high school dance before. Not with homeschooling and how crazy everything was getting…"

Kat knelt down to meet Lucy's reflection. "When are you going to tell me your mysterious and trying backstory?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Soon. And honestly? Sometimes it feels like it's straight out of a horror movie or something."

"Hey," Kat said reassuringly. "I moved to ten different states with my crazy dad, who's a therapist to the dead, and now we're living in a hundred-year-old mansion being haunted by four crazy ghosts," she raised both eyebrows. "People can surprise you. You can trust me, okay?"

Lucy smiled. "Okay."

"Good. Got your mask?"

Nodding, Lucy picked up a silver Colombia mask beside Kat's old jewelry box. Kat took a crescent moon shaped emerald one. They placed them on their faces and giggled at their reflections.

"This is really weird…but in a good way." Lucy stood up and smoothed her dress.

"Ready?" Kat asked, turning the knob to her door.

"Ready."

Lucy and Kat met Casper out in the hallway. He was draped in a long black cloth with his mask sewn onto the front.

"Very dashing," Kat chuckled.

"Why thank you, m'lady," he said, taking a bow. They descended down into the main hallway where James was waiting for the three of them with his large camera.

"My goodness, is this what the kids are wearing now a days?" He chuckled.

"Dad," Kat sighed, a little annoyed. "It's a masquerade party." She eyed the camera and began inching towards the door.

"Well get together the three of you, let me get a good picture." He held the camera upside down and snapped a quick photo.

"Um, Dr. Harvey?"

He eagerly pulled out the photo as it printed and frowned with the outcome.

"The camera's upside down," Lucy said, pointing shyly.

James smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"See, that would explain…the—and—okay, okay get going."

"Bye, Dad," Kat kissed James on the cheek and Casper shook his hand.

"Well, well, well if it isn't Twiddle Dee, Twiddle Dum and Twiddle Dummer!" Stretch, Stinkie and Fatso entered the room laughing.

Lucy suddenly felt vulnerable, and the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach came back when she glanced Stinkie's way. Funny thing, she could've sworn he'd been looking at her before she met his glance.

"Aw, did you guys want to come too?" Kat asked in a mocking tone.

"I wouldn't be caught livin' in one of those…whatevah you call that mess," Stretch pointed to Casper's costume.

"Hey!" Casper said. "Took me a whole hour to make this."

"Yeah and it really shows," Stinkie and his brothers snickered.

"Real mature. Don't you have some kids to scare, or some chains to rattle?" Kat snarled up at the three.

"Oh, rattling chains is so seventeenth century," Stretch said waving his hand.

"Come on, let's get outta here before the scream team decides to throw a party of their own," Kat mumbled.

"A-greed!" Casper said from under his sheet. Kat pulled Lucy's arm and fled through the door, Casper flying close behind.

"Oh, kitty-cat? Don't talk to any strange men!" Stretch waved to them with a kerchief and one hand on his chest.

"Call if you's comin' home late!" Stinkie cooed.

"And don't get any stains on your adorable costumes!" Fatso called after them. "You're father and I paid good money for those!" He wrapped his arm around James causing his to drop the camera.

Once they were out, they breathed a collective sigh of relief. That could have gone much worse. They hurried to the car and piled in, Lucy in the passenger and Casper in the back seat. Kat noticed Lucy's turning white as a sheet and gave her a look. "Don't let those guys bother you. They're just miserable apparitions who do nothing but drown their sorrows in soap operas."

"Right." Lucy said, dropping her shoulders.

"Okay, you two. Lets get this party started!" Casper cheered. Kat turned on the first FM station and "September" by Earth Wind and Fire blasted through the speakers.

"What is this?" Lucy yelled over Kat's loud singing.

"It's called music," she replied, tapping her hands on the steering wheel to the beat. Lucy rolled her eyes and scrunched her brows together.

"It's really loud," she made a face at Kat.

"Yeah, so?" Kat laughed watching Casper dance in the backseat. "Come on, it's like an instant classic!"

Lucy relaxed her her shoulders and felt the bass jingle in her bones. Maybe she could use a night to relax. Besides, at a masquerade ball in the sleepy town of Friendship, Maine, what could go wrong?

Arriving at the building lit up with lights and filled with people, the Ghostly Trio could barely stand the excitement of reclaiming their title as the scariest, and the most daring ghosts in the afterlife. They made themselves invisible and hovered over the building watching those air suckers enter through the doors, all clothed in their ridiculous attire.

"Step one, find a sucker," Stretch said cooly looking around.

"Quite a selection tonight, eh Stretch?" Fatso smiled devilishly.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "I think I'm going for that guy ova there," he laughed, spotting a tall, shamelessly handsome guy sporting thick black hair all gelled around atop a purple suit.

"Hey that looks like the airhead from Grease!" Stinkie joked. "Aw, he's got your nose. You'd think they'd have to have one 'a dose masks custom made." He nudged Fatso in the stomach and they burst into a fit of giggles.

"We'll see whose laughin' when I got da best lookin' dame on my arm at midnight," Stretch smoothed his head and grinned.

"Hey, hey, hey! What about Paul Bunyan over there?" Fatso pointed to a large, board shouldered man strutting at least a foot higher than every guest at the party.

"Go get 'em kid!" Stretch pushed him into the air and he flew into the large man. Fatso struggled to gain control of his victim and spun around a couple of times, hitting his head with his meaty hands and cursing out-loud. Once he gained control, and a few concerned glances, he gave his audience a thumbs up and a large and confident smile. He strutted over to a nearby tree and nonchalantly looked at his fingernails.

"Wish me luck brotha," Stretch carefully snaked his way amongst the crowd and slipped into the large gaping hole that was this charismatic cat's mouth. Making his way comfortably inside, the man bent backwards and waved his hands around resisting his new found 'roommate'. Finally, he found his way and took control. He straightened up and looked around, smiling widely. He liked the feel of this guy, he could tell it was gonna be a wild night. On his way to his brothers, he spotted a thin younger woman and approached her with ease taking her hand.

"Hiya, doll-face," he bowed suavely and lightly kissed her gloved hand. "Catch you on the dance floor later?"

"Sure," she said dumbfounded, her cheeks flushing a rosy red.

He clicked his tongue, pointed her direction and walked away with a wide stride and a kick in his heels.

"Hey, the chicks out here ain't half bad," Stretch elbowed his brother excitedly. "I'm gonna make 'em melt like hot fudge on a ice cream sundae if ya catch my drift." He cockily lifted his shirt collar.

"Mmm, sundae…" Fatso rubbed his stomach.

"Hey, eyes on the prize you big ball of bleach," Stretch hit him on the back of the head and Fatso winced.

"Hey, that actually hurt," Fatso massaged the place where Stretch had smacked him. For a moment, Stretch looked quite taken aback but quickly regained his posture and yelled in Stinkie's direction. "Oi! Stink! Get movin'!"

Stinkie had to admit, he was having a little bit of trouble regaining his focus much less his confidence. They hadn't done this in years! Swallowing his fear he saluted to his two brothers and flew above the crowd, praying not to be seen. In a fit of panic to find someone suitable, he dove in for the nearest person he could find. He was tallish, had messy black hair, a large nose, and a large, black leather jacket. Stinkie collided into him and sent him sprawling to the ground. He'd never met such an impressionable one before, and such a hollow-headed one, at that. Much to Stinkie's surprise, he easily gained control and stood up on his feet, wobbling a bit. He turned around and was met eye to eye with a large black motorcycle.

"This fleshie's deluxe! Wheels and everythin'!" He said a little too loudly. A couple people started starring, and he turned on the intimidation card.

"Whataya you lookin' at?' He spat. He puffed his chest and stuck his hands into his pockets, jiggling the pair of keys inside them. "Hiya fellas." He said cooly.

"Lookin' good boys!" Stretch said. "I'd forgotten how good this feels." He shook and swayed his hips around slightly.

"The smells, the music, the babes," Fatso's tongue was hanging out like a dogs in summertime.

"Gentlemen?" Stretch pulled his newly 'fleshified' brothers into a large bear hug, but admittedly it was harder considering how tight the suits were—and Stinkie's skinny jeans. "Let's go rustle dat hornet's nest."

Strung together like a candy necklace, arm in arm, Stretch, Stinkie and Fatso strolled into their newly found surroundings with confidence and ease. They burst open the doors and pushed past a large group of fire-themed, feather ridden folk.

"Somebody cancel da medication and up the booze, because we're just what da doctor ordered!" Stretch said throwing his hands up to the crowd with Stinkie and Fatso behind him.

"Do I spot a dance floor that needs some attention?" Fats tapped his large fingers on his stomach and gazed.

"Go to 'er…" Stretch set his head on Fatso's shoulder and gazed at the vacant dance floor. "She's calling your name." He snickered.

"What if they don't like me?" Fatso fiddled with his fingers.

"You shake 'em up with da old 'buttercup' and even Michael jackson'll be runnin' for 'is money," Stretch smiled.

"You really think so?" Fatso straightened up, beaming.

"Whataya think I'm an idiot? Get out there and tear up dat dance floor!" He pushed him off his heels and into the center of the room.

"Now if you'll excuse me I've got some dames I gotta 'shake up' myself," he smiled, extending his index and thumb outwards towards Stinkie. He left him standing there, vulnerable and awkwardly scratching his now-numb crotch. How the hell do these fleshies wear such tight clothes?

Stinkie maneuvered his way through the crow spitting out "hello's" with an extra smelly breath. The sound of people gagging and choking at the whiff of his ghastly stench was absolute music to his ears. He moon walked his way through the crowd and interrupted conversations at tables just to get a good breath in.

"…you know," he said sitting down at one table, propping himself up on his long elbow. "You guys look a little too cheerful for this shindig. Here, let me help lift the mood." He let out a belch that sent a wave of green air amongst the table that made the flowers wilt and the people flee their seats, holding their breaths. "Where yah goin'? We was just gettin' to know each othuh!" He held up a wine glass and took a large gulp, shaking his head violently forgetting for a moment the buzz that alcohol gave him.

"Hey!"

Stinkie heard one woman gasp.

"What the-?!" Another one shrieked. Stinkie gazed back over his shoulder and saw Stretch scooting from one woman to the other from behind. He had a devilish grin on his face as he ran his hand over each of their backsides, causing gasps and shrieks to come from behind each mask. He took one poor gal into a spin-n'-dip and suavely kissed her neck before gliding her over to the center of the dance hall. Stinkie quickly turned around as she cursed and kneed Stretch in the groin before storming away. He knew it would make Stretch angry if he caught his younger brother watching.

Fatso, obeying Stretch's wishes, was indeed 'tearing up' the dance floor; as everyone's favorite songs came on, he led the crowd in a series of dance moves, as his large stature made the ground shake with every step of his large feet. From the 'Reebok', to the 'Roger Rabbit', to the 'Hammer' and the 'Sprinkler', Fatso was the star of the show. The perfect way to reel in their victims to a night of fun before they scared their dancing feet away.

Stinkie rose from his seat and headed for the buffet table, but for food this time. He filled his plate with brussels sprouts, cheese and fried asparagus piled on top of each other. He licked his lips and turned around quickly, not in enough time to realize there was someone standing next to him, filling her punch glass. Bumping into him, she squeaked as she spilled her punch onto his jacket. Simultaneously, Stinkie dropped his plate on the floor, scattering food everywhere. They both sank to the floor and began to remedy their mistake.

"Oh, geez, I'm so sorry," she said.

"Yeah you better be! This jacket's worth—" as he looked up, he met her nose inches from his.

The world suddenly fell into slow motion as their eyes met. He noticed a small trail of faded freckles lining the bridge of her nose below the mask. He noticed that one of her blue eyes was paler than the other. Her lips were painted a pale shade of pink; they were small and perfect. He hadn't been this close to a fleshie in years. He stood.

"I mean, it ain't a problem, Miss," he extended his hand and she looked at the floor before grabbing it. Her gloved hand was small and soft and quick to retract back to fixing her long, white-blonde hair.

"Thank you…" She said awkwardly. He was completely dumbstruck. This mysterious stranger wasn't half bad for a fleshie.

"I'm…" he began extending his hand a second time but froze in his tracks, realizing he had no name to introduce himself with. "Tom…" he nodded. Yeah that was good, but what about a last name? He looked around for inspiration. He caught sight of a sign over the door that read, 'Browning Community Center'. "Browning. Tom Browning, yeah," he said frowning slightly. The girl shook his hand and smiled shyly.

"It's nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Lucy Gilliam." Stinkie froze. The world's motion was changing but not slower, it was speeding up. His heart was racing, his head was pounding.

The dame he'd fallen for was the same air sucking intruder who he'd seen naked in the bathroom just last week? The weirdo who hung around with his nephew and Kitty Kat? The one who's face he'd thrown chewed up pancakes at? No this was not happening. Stretch had warned him and Fatso to steer clear of her, there was something fishy going on. Something dangerous. But what? This girl didn't seem dangerous. She smelled like lilies, and her hair was soft, her glance was kind and gentle and her silk dress curved in all the right places— and he had to look up. He realized he was looking at her hips. He shot his eyes upward and-oh god, even behind the mask he could see a sparkle in those eyes.

"Lucy! We've been looking everywhere—who's your friend?" Kat wandered up behind Lucy and shot Stinkie and suspicious look, breaking his train of thought. He straightened up and adjusted his collar.

"Kat, this is Tom," Lucy nodded looking at her feet.

Kat sized him up and sighed, looking towards Casper. "Well come on, we were gonna go dance."

"Yeah that guy's a maniac!" Casper said, from underneath the cloak. Lucy looked form Kat to Stinkie and flattened her lips.

"Actually, I think I'm gonna stay here, you guys go ahead."

"You sure? This guy isn't giving you any trouble?" Kat asked cautiously.

"Who me?" Stinkie put a and to his heart and pretended to look offended.

Kat rolled her eyes.

"I'll be fine," Lucy said.

"You know where to find us." Kat gave her one last look and disappeared with Casper into the crowd of people surfacing under the disco ball. Lucy turned around and fiddled with her hair some more.

"So tell me, Lucy," Stinkie poured them each another glass of punch to fill the awkward silence that had settled. "What brings you here dis fine evening?" He took a slower, steadier sip than before.

"Well, I'm really not one for parties…" she shrugged. "But, my friend wanted to get out of the house for a change, maybe get some human interaction for once."

"Well ain't it a good thing she did," he felt a wave of confidence in his new form. Lucy giggled softly and avoided his glance.

"You know I don't think I've seen you around here before," he said raising an eyebrow. Maybe in this form he could get some information out of her. She stalled hard and adjusted her mask.

"Well," she began. "I'm new to Friendship. I''m just here as a drifter, I guess. Um…this party's nice," she said looking Kat and Casper's way.

"Yeah," Stinkie could tell she was trying to change the subject, so he dropped it. As she turned her head he found his gaze outlining her pronounced neck line, then wandering a little ways down…

"So-what about you?"

Stinkie immediately met her glance again feeling his cheeks flush. He stuttered and took another sip of his drink.

"I'm sorry…?"

She chuckled lightly. "What do you do here in Friendship?"

"I—I—I'm a toilet…uh…engineer." Well that was stupid.

"A toilet engineer…?" She laughed the cutest laugh Stinkie he'd ever heard. "You mean like a plumber?"

"Yeah, yeah a plumber. That's the word I was lookin' for."

"That's so cool!" She grinned.

"Yeah. Do you wanna dance?" He interjected quickly. She looked surprised. "Um…"

"I've got a friend in common wih' da DJ," he half smiled, tilting his head.

"I'm not much of a dancer…" she shrugged, her cheeks turning pink.

Stinkie dropped his chin and took her small hands in his. He kissed each one lightly. She looked caught off guard and weak-kneed all at the same time.

"Come on, I'll teach ya!"

She smiled, and picked at her lip nervously. He had to admit, as much as he hated walking in this guys shoes, (literally) it gave him a surge of confidence he'd never had before.

"Well, okay," she met his gaze.

Stinkie felt butterflies in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he hadn't felt in over a century. No one had ever made him feel this way before, at least not a one he could remember.

They danced for a while, and Stinkie almost felt like a normal guy. For once in his afterlife he almost missed being alive. He twirled her around to the upbeat song and caught her mid fall. They danced for what seemed like ages, not even growing tired. That is until Stinkie felt his stomach drop like a rock. The plan… he sighed and pulled Lucy close so she could hear him.

"Hey, you wanna get outta 'ere?" He asked.

Lucy frowned and looked around, her whole demeanor changing.

"For a milkshake or somethin', I mean," he elaborated quickly.

"Tom, that's real sweet of you, but I—" before she could respond the lights all went out with a flash.

Stinkie and Lucy looked around but it was pitch black. When the lights returned, Stretch was on top of the stage still inhabiting his sucker's body. He smiled and his teeth sparkled almost blinding the audience. He tapped the mic and leaned over.

"Ahem?" He beamed. "Ladies and gentlemen…I'd like to introduce," he put his head down and held out his hands. "Me, and my pals." He grinned and nodded at the DJ. He motioned for Stinkie and Fatso to join his side.

"I gotta…" Stinkie boldly kissed Lucy's cheek and headed for the stage to join his two brothers.

"Come on boys, let's rock this mother!" He said into the microphone making the crowd cheer. "Sometime's, when I'm feelin' a little low, I gotta head down to a little ol' place I call…" They all dipped their heads, just like they'd rehearsed. "The love shack," they crooned in unison. The music on the speakers began to play 'Love Shack' and the crowd reeled with laughter and excitement. Everyone began to clap and stomp their feet to the contagious rhythm.

"If you see a faded sign that says, 'fifteen miles to love shack'," Stretch sang out, in a beautifully strong voice as Stinkie and Fatso 'doo-bopped' to the beat.

"Love shack, yeah, yeah," Stinkie and Fatso joined in sounding better than ever. As they sang, they patted, twirled and dipped each other suavely, receiving several hoots and hollers from the dancing crowd.

Stretch grabbed the mike and fell to his knees, soaking up all the attention from the screaming girls letting down their hair.

"The love shack is a little place where we can get togetha…love shack baby," he thrust his hips forward as he got to the chorus.

The crowd was going absolutely nuts as they sang in butchered harmony. Nearing the end of the song, just as the trio had planned, the lights began to dim.

"Bang bang!" They chanted with their fists. "Bang bang!"

Stinkie felt his stomach drop like a boulder as the lights went out completely.

This was the end, the last chance he's ever have with Lucy. She'd never notice him, never look his way, and would never speak to him again. Unless…

When the lights came on and Stretch and Fatso began to cackle delightedly, Stinkie felt his heart pounding like a drum. Would he ever be able to win his brothers' trust again? Maybe not. But it was worth it. Every second he could spend with Lucy - he'd take it. He dove from the stage and fell flat on his face. He could feel the tension like a thick fog and knew that what he was about to do would change his afterlife forever. Nevertheless, he ran into the crowd, found Lucy, grabbed her hand.

"Do you trust me?" He whispered. He saw her pale face with every flash of the lights grow more serious.

"Wait, what? What's going on, Tom?"

Taking her hand he shed his jacket and put it around her. "We gotta get outta 'ere before we become yestaday's garbage." He pulled her behind him as they rushed out the front door and away from the commotion.

Stinkie heard glasses breaking and screams erupting from hundreds of guests as he led her quickly to his motorcycle. He scrambled to find the fleshie's keys and handed the spare helmet to Lucy.

"Rather safe 'den sorry," he said, flashing her an awkward smile.

"What is going on?" Lucy demanded again, pushing the helmet away and flashing him a glare.

"I told ya, you gotta trust me!" He snapped back, mounting the seat of the motorcycle.

"I met you two and a half hours ago!" She yelled above the noisy street. "You expect me to get on this machine in blind faith?" She held on to his jacket tightly. At that moment, hundreds of screaming people came flooding out the door. A baseball bat came flying through the window and slammed to the ground, dangerously close to Lucy's feet. A fouls stench filled the air, one that Stinkie knew all too well—the stink bomb he'd spent days perfecting with his brothers. Lucy squeaked and jumped onto the bike, clenching her nose tightly.

"Scoot over!" She yelled wrapping both her arms around his torso. Stinkie stopped to catch his breath, losing himself for a moment when she touched him.

"Put this on!" Stinkie plopped the only helmet onto her small head and she adjusted it, tightening it to the very last fixture.

"Go, go, go!" She hit his back repeatedly and out of impulse he started the motorcycle too fast, jolting them both back quickly.

"You know how to drive this thing, right Tom?" She pleaded.

"Nope!"

Lucy held on tight and together they fled the scene hearing a series of loud cackling behind them, as well as breaking glass and tornado like winds.

Stinkie had never driven a motorcycle before, and he felt the chunks rising from the pit of his stomach like a volcano. He dodged car after car, almost knocking them both off the wheels. He hit a couple of newspaper stands and hit his head with a tree branch once or twice, but somewhere along the way, he found his ground. They zoomed into a parking lot and straight towards a lamp post. Stinkie slammed the breaks and it sent him tumbling over the front of the shield and onto the asphalt.

"Tom!" Lucy squealed, running to his aid. She knelt down beside him, taking off his helmet. His hair was in disarray and he was missing a tooth, but he was still in one piece. She held his head in her hands and Stinkie opened his eyes, dazed.

"Wowzah," he said dizzily looking into her face. She laughed and pushed his hair back.

"You're mental," she said softly.

"Does that mean you gotta take care o' me?"

Lucy blushed and stepped back. "It means you need help, silly," she laughed and pulled him up.

"Nah, I'm fine, I'm fine," he stood and brushed off his jacket. He stood there awkwardly and stuck his hands in his pocket. He made a few inaudible sounds as he inched closer to Lucy.

"I, uh—I—," Stinkie stuttered.

"Tom," Lucy said quietly. She looked up at Stinkie and he felt her eyes burn in his stomach like a hot dog that went down the wrong pipe.

"Thanks for the—ride," she said not breaking eye contact.

"Yeah, uh huh…" He said unable to use his words. Lucy blinked a few times and leaned in. Stinkie felt his heart race, his palms sweat and his thoughts go completely blank. He closed his eyes and leaned in.

It was soft, and quick like a kiss from a bunny, but still…It was magical. She smiled and began to inch backwards, the wind was barely seeping through her hair as the moonlight outlined her whole body making it glow in the dark night.

"Wait," he pleaded regaining his posture. "Where are ya goin'?" He shook his head slightly.

"Home." She said matter-of-factly.

"Ya don't want me to take ya home?" He furrowed his brow.

"Not after that ride." She laughed. "Thank you for the dance though. I'll see you around, Tom." And with that, she turned on her heel and bounced in the direction towards the main road barely making a single noise. Stinkie looked at his watch: 12:30 am. He looked back up in Lucy's direction but she was gone. In fact, she was nowhere in sight.

1 note · View note

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Ghost-est With The Mostest For All Hallow’s Eve 👻

314 notes · View notes

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

childhood horror + favorites

812 notes · View notes

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

CASPER (1995) Dir. Brad Silberling

669 notes · View notes

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Doc Harvey awww

BILL PULLMAN in CASPER (1995) dir. Brad Silberling

#🥰🥰🥰#casper #bill pullman #filmgifs #90sedit #filmedit #moviegifs

3K notes · View notes

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Spellbound: A Ghostly Tale, Chapter 6

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Three hours later having been to a costume store sold out of costumes, a jewelry store far too expensive and a dress shop that only sold dress sizes, two sizes too small, a melancholy Casper, Kat and Lucy trudged into the front doors feeling defeated. That is, until Casper had an idea.

"Come on, slowpokes!" Casper flew between wall after wall, and poked his head out to meet Lucy and Kat's tired faces.

"Well, sorry we're not as fast as you are, Casper," Kat chuckled.

"Yeah, we're definitely not as good as you are at walking through walls," Lucy said.

Kat glanced behind her shoulder and laughed at Lucy's snide comment while Casper rolled his eyes.

"God, how many stair cases can one house possibly have?" Kat said, out of breath while Lucy nodded in agreement.

"Twenty-eight, not counting the basement," Casper said cheerfully.

"Peachy," Kat groaned.

"Okay, this is the last stop," Casper floated over to a large, maroon bookcase.

"Thank goodness," Lucy said, pulling her hair out of her sweaty face. Her heart was banging wildly against her ribcage, and her legs burned.

"Now, all we have to do is find the right book…" Casper squinted and ran his finger over the series of dusty books lined up on the shelf. "Aha!" He said. "Dr. Bog's Big Book of Biology! A classic." He took the book out of its place and the bookshelf slid open to reveal, much to Lucy and Kat's dismay, another large set of stairs. Lucy felt her heart sink to her toes.

"More?" She said dropping her hands to her thighs.

"You have got to be kidding me," Kat said eyeing the narrow staircase.

"Hmm," Lucy said, putting her hands on her hips, "four ghosts, cockroaches everywhere, cobwebs in every corner, and a giant cliff overlooking a ferocious ocean…yet this is the scariest thing I've yet to see." She recalled all the ghoulish sights that inhabited Whipstaff Manor she'd had the displeasure of encountering.

"Told you it was scary," Kat muttered.

"Oh, boo, hoo!" Casper laughed. "Stairs won't kill you!"

"But a heart attack might," Lucy said.

"And besides," Kat cut in, "you don't have any legs! Or a heart! So you don't have room to judge here, mister." She smiled, squinting slightly.

Casper surrendered his hands in the air.

"Uncle, uncle!" He called. Kat shook her head and proceeded up the stairs as Lucy followed behind.

The three walked up the stairs, huffing and puffing the whole way. Once they reached the top, Casper stopped them at a large door.

"I swear to god Casper," Kat said adjusting the hem of her shirt, "if that's another set of stairs you'll be dead. Twice."

"Not stairs, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at what we find," Casper smiled. He turned the knob and the door opened with a loud creak. Kat and Lucy coughed, waving away the dust that had collected over the years.

Inside was a large room filled to the brim with boxes, and old, antique furniture.

"What is all this, Casper?" Kat asked.

Lucy glanced over and saw her friend's eyes widen in curiosity.

"An old attic, long forgotten." Casper put his hands on his hips and sighed. "I don't know why I didn't think to come up here sooner. But look, look," he flew over to an old rocking horse and began to rock back and forth. "This is Jimmy! I played with him all the time."

Lucy looked around, amazed at all the boxes and junk that surrounded her.

"And this," Casper flew over to a dusty closet and pulled out an old tuxedo. "My mother made this for me, I only ever got to wear it once. I still remember the day," Casper ran his fingers across the lace and laughed. "I wore it to a church dance, and some jerk 'accidentally' spilled punch all over me! No girl in that entire rom wanted to dance with me."

"Aw, Casper," Kat smiled gently and took his hand.

"Hey, no sweat!" He shrugged it off and smiled back at Kat. "Girls back then were all boring anyway, not like you." Kat blushed and looked down at her feet.

Lucy smiled at the gentle way Casper looked at Kat.

"Any who," Casper broke the silence. "There's just a lot of memories up here."

"Yeah, right!" Kat chuckled nervously and cleared her throat. She made her way awkwardly over to a box with the label, 'Don't Touch!', scribbled crudely in dark red marker on the lid.

"Oh, I have to see this," Kat said smiling.

Casper flew over and watched over her shoulder as she pulled the box open. Lucy tilted her head sideways to better see the the writing on the box. Her long hair was inches away from touching the dusty ground. Kat pulled out a golden shield on a wooden plaque and held it up to the window's light. There was a black engraving on the front.

"In honor of Theodore McFadden, for an outstanding demonstration of his musical talents and abilities through his Operatic rendition of Romeo and Juliet." Kat frowned and felt the plaque. "And Theodore is?"

"Oh that's Uncle Fatso—er Uncle Theo…?" Casper shrugged.

"No way." She blew the dust off the plaque to reveal the dates. "The Annual Sunbury Music Festival, 1883."

Lucy raised her eyebrows. Fatso didn't strike her as the performing type, even though she had to admit he and his brothers were a bunch of drama queens.

"Uncle Fatso was really talented from what my dad told me—and he never told me that much about my uncles." Casper squinted at the writing.

"Why not?" Lucy asked.

"I dunno, I think they might've had a rough history together or something," he shrugged. Lucy thought back to her own 'rough family history', specifically the one between her grandma and mother.

"To be honest, I'm not sure if I should be impressed or scared…" Kat said.

"I'd say both is a safe bet," Caper suggested. After she placed the plaque on a wooden table, she reached back in and pulled out a metallic flask.

"Oh, that was Uncle Stretch's!" Casper pointed to it and smiled.

"Look at this engraving," Kat squinted and read aloud. "To my sweet, Vinnie Bear, with love, Charlie." Kat snorted.

Casper cringed and nodded. "Gosh, Charlie." His face softened as he rested his elbows on the table. "She was a character."

Kat half-smiled. "Who was she?"

"She lived in New York for years before she and Uncle Stretch got together. Oh boy, those two were always all over each other!" Casper stuck out his tongue and grimaced, making Kat laugh. "When they'd come to visit, back in the early days, she'd tell me stories about her adventures in women's rights campaigns." His fond smile faded. "Three months before their wedding…she went to a protest, in Manhattan. Things got out of hand," Casper's brows furrowed. "Someone shot her from behind while she was speaking." He floated sadly to the ground. "Uncle Stretch wasn't the same after that…"

"God, Casper. I'm so sorry," Lucy's eyes welled up watching the little ghost.

He tried to brighten up. "She did live a good life…I just wish she had lived it longer."

"With Vinnie Bear?" Kat smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"Yep, Uncle Vincent." He chuckled.

Lucy looked at the engraving and smiled. It warmed to her heart to think that someone could've loved Stretch in another life.

"I think it's sweet," she said quietly. "An epic love story for the ages."

Kat looked at the engraving again and shook her head. "Someone get me a grater for all this cheese." She shivered and placed it back in the box. She searched around again and pulled out a beaten up teddy bear with a faded red ribbon around his neck.

"Uncle Stinkie used to carry that around on his really bad days," Casper said. "He had crippling anxiety all his life." Lucy glanced at Casper, surprised. Anxiety? Sure he seemed a little nervous, sometimes, but she would never have guessed it was as severe as that. "So the great asshole really does have a sentimental side?" Kat broke into her thoughts. "How touching." Despite the hardness in her voice she placed the bear back in place with care.

"So, why did you bring us up here again?"

Casper jolted upwards and snapped his fingers. "That's right! Costume ideas! For the festival!"

Kat and Casper began rummaging through the other boxes and under the furniture around the room, leaving Lucy alone with the box. She picked up the bear slowly and sniffed it. It smelled like old books and very faint perfume. She knew it had been a bear well loved. It reminded her of her old rabbit that she would cling to when her grandma and mother would get into fights. She kissed its matted head softly and placed it on top of the lid in a sitting position. She joined Kat and Casper, who were now occupied with a box filled with old furs and jewelry.

"Eleanor Roosevelt." Casper said excitedly.

"Who?" Kat looked at him with a confused expression.

"You don't know who Eleanor Roosevelt is? What do they teach you kids in school these days?" He said, exasperated.

Lucy laughed to herself and shook her head. She wiped the dust off her hands on her jeans and examined another box. It was titled, 'Photos' in a fine black ink. She pulled out a large portrait of three mystery somebodies: a tall younger man holding a baby in his arms and a younger woman with dark messy hair pulled back in a bun. She wasn't looking at the baby, but at the man. Her eyebrows were thick and dark, cresting over bright, sparkling eyes. The man grinned back at her, and Lucy saw the love in both their expressions. Maybe these weren't random somebodies after all…

The man looked familiar, with layered black hair and a tall frame, pale eyes and a wicked and dashing smile. Stretch, Casper, and Charlie? Or did Charlie ever have a baby? She placed the picture back into the box and selected another of a different man making a snide face at the photographer. Lucy recognized those eyes, the way they seemed to look straight through her. She tilted it into the light. His hair was gelled back and he was wearing a suit that squeezed all the wrong places. Still, his face was cute, round and kind. She could've sworn she'd seen him before…

"Whatcha looking at, Lucy?" Casper hovered in front of Lucy with a large yellowed sheet hanging over his arm. Lucy jumped and almost dropped the portrait, catching it before it hit the floor.

"Nothing, nothing," she scrambled to put the portrait away.

"Hey, that's Uncle Stinkie!" Casper said picking it up again. "That was the day my Mom and Dad got married." He looked closer. "Mom made them all wear something nice, she said they fought her on it all the way." He chuckled.

"What was his name?" Lucy asked, feeling her face flush at the now-familiar mischievous smirk she had seen before on Stinkie's face.

"Joseph, but we all called him Uncle Joey."

An odd burning sensation in the pit of her stomach, causing her to just smile awkwardly. "Did you find a costume?" Lucy said trying to change the subject.

"Yeah!" Casper held up the sheet enthusiastically. "This way I can cover up and cut out some eyeholes."

Kat nodded in agreement. "Casper found a chest full of costume accessories on the shelf. And I found these bad boys in that closet over there," she pointed to a large leader oak chest covered in dust. "Plus all these masks!" Kat held up a long black dress and an old fashioned white evening gown and a pair or masquerade masks. "Aren't they groovy?" She said turning to Lucy.

"Yeah," she replied, still feeling odd.

"My mom made my costume almost every year, she was a wonderful seamstress. She was always making my pirate play clothes when I was little! How handy is that?" He took a plastic sword from the chest and started swinging, pretending to duel with someone.

"The dress might be a little big but I'll bet you could just find a spell make it fit…?" Kat suggested. Lucy laughed slightly.

"Or I could break out my sewing kit. I can sew, like normal." She said quietly. Kat blushed slightly.

"Oh yeah, we'll stick to that then." She lowered her arm noticing Lucy's uncomfortable demeanor. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, just feeling a little sick to my stomach all of the sudden is all." She put her hand to her tummy—that part was true. "Must be all this dust." She scratched her nose and rocked on her heels.

"Well come on, I know a shortcut back to the living room." Casper said.

Kat frowned and took Lucy's hand.

"Maybe we can find you something in town, just the two of us," she said smiling. Lucy nodded. Casper took an old cane and knocked it against the wall three times, causing a wall to creak open and reveal a secret passageway.

"Don't tell me you knew about this the whole time and never said anything," Kat crossed her arms defiantly.

"Not the whole time—just when we got to the third floor…oops." He smiled sheepishly.

Kat rolled her eyes. "Well, come on let's get out of here already." She motioned to her friends and disappeared into the archway.

"Aight boys," Stretch followed by his brothers flew into the night sky. "To da town centah," he said proudly.

They looked over the sleepy town of Friendship. There were no lights, no people out and about in the late hours of the night, nothing. Nothing but an old owl sitting on the gnarled branch of an oak tree.

"When the sun's away the trio comes out to play," Fatso said eyeing the large full moon.

"There—" Stretch pointed to the town center and they dove down silently, letting the wind carry them. "Dis is where the coasties are havin' this little shindig," he smirked. "They won't know what hit 'em." He smiled mischievously. "Stink, you got the bag o' goodies?" He turned to his brother.

Stinkie nodded. They slid through the brick wall around the back entrance.

"It smells like sugar cookies in here!" Stinkie snarled, holding his large nose.

"Mmm, sugar cookies," Fatso said dreamily.

"Someone get me a dead fish or somethin'!" He hissed.

"Mmm, dead fish…" Fatso rubbed his stomach.

"Hey wait a minute…" Stretch stopped Stinkie and Fatso abruptly. "Yous hear that?" He squinted his eyes and looked to the double doors. They heard footsteps coming and grinned at each other. "It's showtime boys," he said.

Timid footsteps could be heard approaching the main hall. It was the midnight shift for the 100-year old security guard, Jerry. As he slowly opened the double doors his flashlight shook in his wrinkled hands.

"Hello?" His voice was croaky and small. Perfect scaring material. "Damn, teenagers! Go find some other love shack! Not in this town center! Now scram!" He yelled, hunched over. "Hello?" He flash his flashlight around the room. The chandelier began to shake a little, making small tinkling sounds. He shown the flashlight on it quickly and the shaking ceased.

"Jerry," Fatso said cooly, sounding almost like the wind or a breeze.

"Wha—" He turned around quickly and held onto his flashlight for dear life.

"Damn hearing aids," he said shuffling out quickly. But poor Jerry didn't see it coming. Stretch, Stinkie and Fatso swept in front of him and bared their fangs with piercing red eyes.

"BOO!" They all yelled and raised their hands like claws. Jerry let out a shriek and fell over backwards dropping his flashlight. The trio hugged and laughed together pointing at the old man. Stretch wiped a tear from his eyes.

"Oh that nevah gets old," he said putting his hands on his hips.

"Whata we do with 'im?" Fatso asked.

"Ah just leave 'im, someone will find him in the morning," Stretch grimaced looking at this ancient face.

"God, what is this dude, one-hundred years old or somethin'?"

"Nah dis bozo's a local legend! He's one hundred and two!" Fatso threw his hands in the air.

"He's not breathin', Stretch," Stinkie poked him slightly on the stomach and he gurgled slightly. They all loomed over him and watched in silence. Jerry made a small spasm, causing them all to jump back a little bit.

"That's good enough for me!" Stretch said flying upward. "Aight, do we remembah the plan, boys?"

They nodded.

"We possess some poor fleshies bodies at da begginin' of da party," Stinkie said rubbing his hands together.

"Then we get in there and wreck havoc as usual," Fatso said grinning.

"Then as just before the clock strikes two -" Stinkie said.

"- the stink bomb will go off! And as a bonus we'll reveal ourselves and scare the livin' pants off the entire town!"

They cackled together, gathering in a small huddle. "And bada-bing bada-boom we're back in business," Stretch said, smoothly.

"It's the perfect plan for a night them fleshies won't evah forget!" Stinkie said.

"Now let's get movin, if we're gonna get this bomb ready in time for the party tomorrow," Stretch said.

Stinkie and Fatso grinned at each other and pulled out the bomb. It was round and a puke green with a stink cloud on the front of it.

"My finest work," Stinkie brought it to his face. "Let's put her to work, this time tomorrow? The entire town will be the stinkiest town in all of Maine."

#casper 1995 #casper the friendly ghost #the ghostly trio #casper fan fiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #casper #casper the ghost #fanfic #ao3 writer

1 note · View note

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Spellbound: A Ghostly Tale Chapter, 5

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

After a rather unsuccessful therapy session with the Doc, Stretch, Stinkie and Fatso belly laughed and smoothly glided out the door, opening it with their fists. They left James at his desk, head in his hands and papers scattered everywhere.

"Thank you Doc, for anothah fulfilling and enriching appointment that taught us absolutely nothin'!" Stretch said as he flew through the door.

"Sweet dreams Doc!" Stinkie waved.

"Don't let the desk-bugs bite!" Fatso smiled.

James just waved his hand without lifting his head or making eye contact. They all laughed and collected into the main parlor where they plopped down in sync onto a large purple sofa and turned on the TV. Stretch yawned and made a loud groaning sound. Stinkie popped his neck, his back then his knuckles and picked out some earwax out of his ear. Fatso scratched his stomach and belched, making the room shake.

"Seven and a half." Stretch said not looking away from the soap opera on the screen.

"What?" Fatso interjected, outraged. "That was clearly a ten! No hesitation."

"Not in this afterlife, you overgrown sack of flour." Stretched waved his hand half heartedly. "You break all the damn windows in the kitchen like Stink did back in '49, then we'll talk." He squinted. "Oy!" He yelled, pointing to the TV. "What the hell is Julia doin' back on the TV? I thought she ran off to Mexico with José to find her birth mother!" Stretch folded his arms and scoffed.

"Nah, you's thinkin' of Janice. See, she ran off with that blonde fleshie—what was 'is name…" Stinkie snapped his fingers trying to remember.

"Greg!" Fatso suggested.

"No, Greg was da one who was sellin' all that alcohol to those high schoolers and got himself arrested." Stinkie said.

"Oh yeah." Fatso said smirking. "What a guy! Jeremy?" He asked.

"Jeremy died two episodes ago when his drug dealer ran 'im over with the car!" Stretch yelled. "Don' ya remembah? The funeral was last episode and Kerri kept crying every five minutes."

"Shhh!" Stinkie slung his arm around his brothers' heads, covering their mouths with one hand and flapping the other excitedly. "I'm tryin' to listen!"

Stretch raised an eyebrow and removed his brother's hand slowly, but stayed silent. On the television, a man and woman stood in the small living room of a cabin in the snowy mountains, holding hands.

"But, Brad!" The woman said in an exasperated tone. "What'll happen to…" she looked at the camera dramatically. "…us?" She put a hand to her forehead. Suddenly a short man in a ski mask holding a bulging sack beat the door down and held out a gun.

"Oh, no!" Brad said pointing to the masked villain. "It's the man with the gun!"

"This plot is too predictable," Stretch said, unamused, lighting a cigar.

"Shhh!" Stinkie said again, making a face at his brother and glueing his eyes back to the screen.

"Who are you?" The woman said flipping her hair. The man pulled off his ski mask to reveal a handsome, blonde-haired fellow with blue eyes. The woman gasped and fell to the floor.

"Her twin brother Harold?" Fatso gasped, putting a hand over his gaping mouth

"My twin brother, Harold?" She whined.

"Goddamn," Stinkie emphasized.

"I KNEW IT!" Fatso rose immediately pointing at the television.

"Okay wow, I didn't even see dat comin'," Stretch laughed, one arm griping the sofa and one hand raising his cigar to his mouth. "She bettah get that nice blonde ass o' her's movin' or she's gonna be buttered toast," he raised his eyebrows.

"I told you's guys he wasn't dead!" Stinkie threw his hands in the air. "I always had a feeling about that pipsqueak."

"Speakin' a' which," Stretch looked around. "Casper!" Within moments Casper poked his head through the stained glass, parlor double doors.

"Yes, Uncle Stretch?" He asked quietly.

"Go fetch today's papah and make it snappy. Don't make me wait around so long, eh short-sheet?" He grinned his teeth together.

"Like always, Uncle Stretch." Casper sighed.

"Ya wanna run that by me again, bulbhead?" Stretch snapped.

"Nothing, nothing." Casper reassured, rolling his eyes behind their backs. After he disappeared from view, Stretch turned to his two brothers.

"Look at dat, boys!" Stretch said. "No respect for the head honcho." He shook his head. "I mean look at us!" He rose up and turned off the television.

"Hey what gives?" Stinkie snapped. "I was in the middle o' dat!"

"It's a soap opera for christ's sake! We should be out terrifying souls, making people wet themselves, scaring 'dem fleshies silly!" He placed his hands on his hips sternly. "Boys we—we've lost our touch." Stinkie and Fatso gasped.

"No," Fatso gasped.

"Yes!" Stretch whined.

"But how—?" Stinkie questioned.

"We gone soft! Two fleshies livin' in our place! And a third one one the way! That's three whole bags o' bones suckin' our air and eatin' our food."

"But Stretch you's said just the othah' day that you love the Doc like our own brothah!" Stinkie said jabbing a finger at Stretch's chest.

"I ain't nevah—" Stretch furrowed his brow.

"Yeah, yeah. An' Kat—" Fatso stood up and cut off his brother. "She runs all the errands for us! She got your special cream that you like to put on when—"

"Alright, ALRIGHT!" Stretch snapped, the windows shaking a little. "That's private." He tapped his cigar and ashes fell to the floor one by one. He was slowly turning red as a tomato. "Just look at you two's! You being all lovey dovey with fleshies!" He put his hand on his hip.

"Sure the Doc is a-okay, and Kat's—eh," he twirled his cigar between his fingers. "But three whole fleshes takin' ovah our territory? That's crossing some lines, that is." He said.

"Come on, we're still scary!" Fatso interjected.

"Oh yeah?" Stretch said, squinting.

"Yeah!" Fatso said confidently.

"When was the last time we actually scared a fleshie?" He asked smirking.

"Uhh," Fatso frowned.

"I got it!" Stinkie said. "Last Wednesday that Mormon came to our door," Stinkie laughed. "Yeah, yeah! You remember the look on his face?" Fatso cackled and pushed Stinkie on the shoulder. "Good day," he said puffing his chest as a pair of circular glasses appeared on his nose. "Have you heard the good word of our Lord and savior—DEMONS, DEMONS, DEMONS!" Fatso bulged his eyes and laughed along with Stinkie. Stinkie held out a pretend cross and held it up.

"By the grace of Zeus, be gone foul demons!" Stinkie got on his knees and laughed so hard tears came from his eyes.

"Yeah nice work boys." Stretch scowled. "We scared one bible beater back into heaven." Stretch frowned.

"We got not one, not two, but three fleshies livin' in our home, boys!" He snapped. "Whataya call that huh?"

"Hospitality?" Fatso shrugged.

"No, you idiot!" Stretch folded his arms and rose from the couch. "It means we gone soft!" Stretch closed his eyes and lifted a first to his chin, stifling a few pity sniffles. "Never thought I'd see the day."

There was a moment of silence as he let his brothers mull this over.

"Here you go Uncle Stretch—" Casper flew into the room with a newspaper in his small hands. He paused and floated in the air making a face.

"Great timing, pipsqueak," Stretch muttered.

"Do you still want the paper…?" He asked quietly.

"Of course I want the damn papah!" He snatched it from Casper's hands, made it into a roll and slapped him up across the head. All the of the ghosts laughed and pointed. "At least we're still good at one thing…" he smirked. "And the yard needs dirtyin', go make yourself useful and scatter some leaves or somethin'. Now get outta here, short sheet!" Stretch snapped, blowing a puff of smoke into Casper's face.

"Second hand smoke kills people—especially children-everyday, Uncle Stretch." Stretch cackled lightly.

"Well it's a good thing you're already dead, ain't it?" He said quietly.

"Yeah, lucky me." Casper said rubbing his head and dusting off his nose. Stretch squinted and scowled.

"Get outta here, go on scat!" He ushered Casper out of the room and began eyeing the paper for his weekly crossword puzzle. He ran his slim fingers through the pages and yawned. Stinkie and Fatso had turned on the television and resumed their soap opera.

"She's breakin' Brad's heart!" Stinkie sobbed into Fatso's shoulder and he shook his head consoling Stinkie.

"That good for nothin' two timer!" Fatso shook his fist at the television.

"Eh, quiet down ova there I'm doin' my crossword puzzle." Stretch said behind the paper.

"Yeah, all two words!" Fatso and Stinkie laughed to themselves.

"Hey shut up the two of you's!" Stretch quickly lowered the paper and spat. "I'll have you know I found almost five last week!" He squinted raising the paper again.

"'Toins out dat 'glozzom' ain't a word…" he said sheepishly. He readjusted his position on the couch, but this time, didn't go back to his crossword puzzle. He had found something much more interesting. His eyes glazed over the "Social Events" column and grinned.

"Hey, hey, whata we have 'ere?" He said slyly. He saw a picture of families gathering around town hall carrying pumpkins and jumping into leaf piles.

"Lookie 'ere boys," Stretch said turning off the TV. "Hey, Jessica was just about to kill Jordan with the golden shovel her father gave 'er!" Stinkie yelled.

"Get ya asses ovah 'ere!" He pulled them in a showed them the article.

"Oh, the annual Harvest festival," Stinkie said in a slimy, smooth tone. "Oh boy, oh boy it's a masquerade pahty dis year." Stinkie said rubbing his hands together.

"There'll be tons of suckers just waiting to be scared outta their minds." Stretch said grinning.

"Not to mention a buffet," Fatso licked his lips and rubbed his stomach.

"Boys, I think we're back in business." Stretch said eyeing his brothers and blowing a puff of smoke into the air. "Time we reclaim our title."

Kat and Lucy barged through the front doors of Whipstaff Manor and slammed them shut with their backs. They both slid down to the floor and closed their eyes. Kat put a hand over her head and Lucy laughed, out of breath from running up the driveway.

"Wow," she said her mouth hanging open.

"Yeah." Kat eyed Lucy and thumped her head against the wooden door. "Safe to say I can't ever let you out of the house again?" She asked.

"Hey that girl was being really rude! I couldn't just sit there!" Lucy said standing up. She held out her hand for Kat.

"I'm used to it by now, Lucy," she said taking Lucy's hand. "Do you know how many schools I've gone to? How many houses I've lived in over the years? The rumors that went around about me? I mean when your dad is a therapist for dead people you're giving them a lot of room for insult."

"Well that doesn't mean you've got to take it," Lucy slumped her shoulders.

Casper zoomed in. "Where were you guys?" Kat and Lucy looked at each other.

"We were having some milkshakes…" Lucy said slowly. "And maybe, possibly, by accident I dumped them all over our waitress…" she smiled innocently. Kat folded her arms and shook her head.

"No way! That's so cool!" Casper held up his hand. "High four!"

Lucy enthusiastically jumped to hit Casper's hand but stumbled, going right through it.

"Oops, sorry," Casper grimaced and smiled nervously. "I keep forgetting I'm made of air."

Lucy stood up gingerly and brushed herself off.

"Say, Kat!" Casper flew around her happily. "Check this out!" He handed her the newspaper. "Page eight," he smiled looking over her shoulder.

"The annual Harvest Festival will be up and running on October fifth, a great way to spend a Saturday filled with family fun." Kat read aloud. "And at midnight, a masquerade party under the stars." She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, Casper I don't know," she sighed.

"Come on, Kat! You promised!" He said. "This would be a great way for Lucy to get out of the house!"

Lucy sheepishly rubbed her arm. "Casper, don't you think it'd be a little weird for people to see me walking around with a complete stranger and a white cloud? Not exactly the kind of attention I'd want to attract." She chuckled and folded the paper.

"No, no, listen," Casper said. "I had a brilliant idea! I could turn invisible or better yet, I could wear a full body costume! No one would know the difference! Plus, you know I'm a good dancer."

Kat blushed and looked away.

"Life of the party! Er—death of the party?" Casper shrugged. "Come on, please?I've been dying to get out of this old, dusty, barn," he clasped his hands and held them to his cheek. Kat sighed.

"Oh, all right." Casper did a back flip in the air.

"Yes!" He cheered. "Thank you, Kat!" He said flying around her. "Lucy?" He stopped and looked at Lucy with large, hopeful blue eyes.

"I mean, what's a Harvest Festival without a witch?" She giggled.

"Come on, let's go find a costume!" Casper yelled. He headed straight out the door and Kat looked at her watch. "3…2…1…" she counted. They heard Casper sigh from outside the door.

"Oh right," he floated back into the closed doorway and chuckled nervously. I forgot—got too excited."

"Let me grab my wallet," Kat jogged up the stairs. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here," Lucy called after her.

"NO!" They jumped when they heard Fatso cry from the parlor in the next room.

"Haha, you owe me ten bucks, puddin' belly!" Stinkie yelled.

"I told you's not to trust that bastard, Brad! He's a two faced liar!" Stretch snapped. Lucy sighed and glanced at Casper with worried eyes.

"I have a bad feeling," Lucy said. "What if…" she looked at the parlor door again.

"Oh, don't worry. They've actually calmed down a lot since you came here." Casper said. "They're not gonna show up. They're too busy with that soap opera to notice anything!"

Kat and Casper began cracking up. Lucy joined in, nervously, but her gut was telling her something else entirely.

#casper 1995 #casper the friendly ghost #the ghostly trio #casper fan fiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #casper #casper the ghost #fanfic #ao3 writer

1 note · View note

writtenbyjos · 8 months ago

Text

Spellbound, A Ghostly Tale: Chapter 4

CHT 4: "DINER DISASTER"

"…A witch?" Kat said sipping on her chocolate shake. Sitting across the table from her, shifting uncomfortably in the rubber booth was Lucy fidgeting with her straw.

The two sat in a small diner off the coast to 'regroup' from their previous battle with the giant venus flytrap ambush back at the mansion. The atmosphere smelled of grease and cleaning supplies (as Lucy had pointed out to Kat) and the place was deserted but as far as Lucy was concerned she was just glad to be sitting somewhere normal for once: Normal chocolate shakes, normal conversation, normal, normal, normal.

"That's right," She said avoiding Kat's burning stare. Kat waited for more and gestured for Lucy explain.

"Go on," She said.

"What more is there to tell?" Lucy said shrugging. "I have warts, I use dead, black cats in my rituals and I cackle like a hyena at the stroke of midnight." She said sarcastically. folding her arms.

"Come on, Lucy." She said. "Seriously. Fill me in." She said twirling her straw with her finger.

Lucy tapped the table with her fingers and rested her head on both her small hands. Memories that she'd stored away in the very back of her brain had resurfaced and were swishing around uncomfortably making her feel sick to her stomach.

"What do you want to know?" She said sniffing. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Well that one's easy." Kat said pushing her hair behind her ear. "Just start from the beginning." Lucy sighed.

"Salem Massachusetts." Kat groaned.

"Okay," She put her hand on her forehead. "Please tell me that wasn't where you grew up. I'm sorry but that'd be the most cliche thing ever." She said dryly.

"It's not!" Lucy said defiantly. "It's where my grandmother was born. And hey you're the one who asked."

"Touché." Kat sat back and made a squeaking noise with her jeans on the rubber cushion. "All right, all right." Kat said. "Continue."

"Well," Lucy said shyly. "As most of America knows, those were dark times for 'underground' witches." Lucy motioned with air quotations. "No one knew what to do or how to feel." Kat nodded. "Witches had been around for a long time just minding their own business. But then when people began to suspect all the wrong people of heinous, black magic crimes, that's when things got bad. The salem witch trials began and fear was spread among everyone in Salem."

"Okay, this is like, fifth grade social studies stuff." She chuckled.

"Right," Lucy frowned. "But something you have to understand," She began. "This is the beef that they never teach you in pop culture, in the horror movies or even by the books." She inhaled. "…There were actual witches in Salem." She felt chills ride down her spine with even the mere thought. "And regular people weren't the only ones caught in the mass hysteria of the trials, Kat. Real witches went into hiding, lives were ruined, reputations were ruined." She said. "My family called it the 'Dark Year'."

"Damn." Kat said frowning.

"I know," Lucy exhaled slowly.

"But that's not to say that all witches were good ones. It's like denying that the human race has no flaws." She explained. "There are people of my kind that you need to watch out for—the 'Black Wives' as we always called them." Lucy blew some hair out of her face. "They're," She began. "Wicked. They prey on the weak and rely on black magic to get through one life to the next."

"And by that you mean…?" Kat asked.

"I'm talking like, sacrificing black cats, feeding off the souls of kids, summoning demons," She made blocks with her hands and tapped them on the table.

"So basically everything that every mainstream horror movie have taught me about witches are true…?" Kat said.

"I'm getting to that." Lucy motioned. "Another thing they don't teach you," She said. "…is about the good ones. Sure everyone loves good wicked witch, but thats a hurtful stereotype for one thing. The ones who use white magic to heal, protect and better understand the crazy mysteries of life, those are the ones we need to look to." She said. "Witches aren't all bad. And we're defiantly real. Most of the time we're just regular people walking the streets, sipping our coffee and reading the latest novel from the store; just like everybody else." She lowered her voice as a young, blonde waitress hovered over their table with a bored expression on her face. She blew a large pink bubble and pulled a wooden pencil out of her large hair.

"What'll it be?" She said bucking one hip to the side. Kat stuttered and chuckled.

"Oh—sorry," She said rubbing her eye. "Lucy?" She picked up the menu she had yet to shoot a glance at since they came into the diner. Lucy looked at the menu.

"Fries?" She asked. The girl shrugged.

"I don't know why you're asking me," She said dryly. "S'your food." She said taking the menus.

"We'll just take the fires." She said plastering a a wide smile on her face. Lucy folded her arms and averted her eyes from the waitress.

"Thanks." She said with a small smile.

"Mhm." She said and walked away her large hips swaying.

"Well she's quite pleasant." Lucy said watching her make her way into the kitchen with a huff in each step.

"But as I was saying, my kind is so misunderstood. I mean, my brothers and sisters have been shoved underground over the centuries for being different, from being feared all because of one group that ruined all the fun for the rest of us." She said shaking her head.

"Bummer." Kat said frowning sideways. Lucy nodded. "God, it feels like I'm hearing all this for the first time." She chuckled nervously. "So witches are really real, huh?" Lucy grinned her teeth at Kat and nodded vigorously. "Gee, never thought I'd hear myself say that."

"Well we're out there all right, and some of us will stop at nothing to be heard, to be feared." She paused. "The bad ones, I mean." She tilted her head and glanced sideways lost in thought. "Power-hungry, bloodthirsty monsters. My Ona told me so may stories about missing pets, missing children, screams to horrible even the coyotes would refuse to howl at the moon." She said. "It's your death wish to be caught alone in the clasp of a black witch." Kat furrowed her brow. "Oh, but don't worry," She stuck out her hands. "Most of them died out in 1773, in America when the first Summer Solstice was held." She motioned.

"Huh?" Kat asked confused.

Lucy began.

"The Lunar Solstice is an event that happens every the years, where witches from all over," She said waving her hands in the shape of a rainbow. "See, on March 19th 1773, a great witch named Elvira Hogarth and her sister colony practically wiped out all the outsiders, who were using their power with and for dark forces. Every year they gather to celebrate the defeat of the black magic witches and warlocks, share our gifts, get out wands, see old friends, practice magic…" Lucy stared off into the distance. Kat laughed to herself. "It's really a beautiful thing. And the first summer solstice, was the mark of a new generation." She said. "I've only ever heard stories, but my Ona tells me it was the greatest moment in witch history." She smiled to herself. "Didn't destroy all the ant colonies but we got rid of most of them."

"Wow…That's a lot to take in," Kat said slowly.

"Yeah, sorry, guess I keep getting carried away. I keep forgetting I'm talking to a Dibbler." She chuckled looking at her feet.

"What?" Kat said tiredly.

"It's not an insult!" Lucy said quickly. "It's a term witches in the community use for people who don't possess any magical powers, or the 'gift' if you wanna call it that." Kat nodded slowly.

"Uh-huh." Kat said squinting. "Let's just go with Kat, okay?" She asked folding her hands together.

"You got it," She smiled sheepishly. "I apologize it's been a while since I've had one on one human interaction, much less with a Dibbler—I mean person, er human…Kat?" She stuttered.

"Hey no worries." She said waving her hand. "I promise I won't bite." She said. "I gotta say, you've got one hell of a mystery element to you." Kat said. "People in this town literally eat that stuff up." Lucy looked toward the waitress.

"Everyone here seems very artificial," Lucy trailed off. "…It's sad really." Kat nodded in agreement.

"Can I ask you something, Lucy?" Lucy resurfaced into reality and glanced Kat's way.

"Of course!" She said.

"I know you're a witch, I've pretty much got that concept down to a 'T'," She said. "But how'd you end up caught in the rain, wearing muddy clothes buying toothpaste and having no where to stay?" Lucy began to speak but closed her mouth and sat back.

"Food," Molly interrupted their conversation wielding a plate of greasy hot french fries on her tray. "Can I help in any other way?" She said sarcastically waving her hand around.

"No thank you you've already graced us with your presence enough already."

Lucy said smiling, taking a hot fry. Kat snorted and put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She sunk down and shook her head. The girl adjusted her tray and scoffed at Lucy.

"Whatever," She said passively. But before walking away, she stopped in her tracks and turned on her heals. She pointed finger at Kat and squinted.

"Freaky ghost girl," As she pointed, Lucy sat straight up and eyed Kat. She averted her glance from Lucy and blushed.

"I'm gonna kill Jeremy." She whispered.

Lucy mouthed the words, "Who is this," and Kat just shook her head.

"Do I know you?" She asked.

"Uh, duh?" She said squinting.

"Not following you." Kat said quietly.

"Mr. Rimmer, algebra 2, second period." She said laughing. "I copied off your test last week?" She said dangling her wrist.

"Molly Frederick." Kat folded her lips.

"I thought Jeremy Long was the friendless freak of Friendship High till you came along. I didn't know you had a life," She paused and glanced at Lucy. "…let alone decent human friends," Molly scoffed. "Do us all a favor and go hang out in the graveyard or something." Molly shook her head.

"Maybe I will, the lives ones around here just come in pairs of bottle-blonde, plastic barbie dolls." She muttered folding her arms.

"What'd you say?" She said getting to eye level with Kat. Kat glared at her but said nothing. "That's what I thought. Just go crawl back to your cave where you belong." Molly chuckled and took a handful of fries from Kat's plate and accidentally spilled her milk shake on the table. "Oops," She laughed. Lucy was fuming, feeling like there was steam running from her nose and ears. She stood up shaking a little.

"Hey miss," She called. Molly turned around and popped another bubble. "These fries are bland. Like your personality." She picked one up and ate one. "Needs ketchup." She said. Out of nowhere the ketchup bottle flew into the air and exploded onto Molly covering her dress, twenty-dollar tan, and cheap bleached hair.

"And,"Her eyes glazed over Molly's horrified face. "Oh dear I missed a spot." She smiled as her pointer finger raised in the air as well as her shake, dumping itself onto Molly.

"Oops," Lucy said in the same nasally tone. "Looks like that's coming out of your pay check." Molly screamed and ran into the kitchen, slipping a few times on her way over. The diner was completely empty, thank goodness and Kat lunged to her feet.

"Okay," Kat scrambled for her wallet and keys. "As hilarious as that was, it's time to go," She grabbed Lucy's hand and they bolted out the two front doors of the diner laughing. "Get in the car, get in the car, get in the car," Kat took hold of Lucy's arm and shoved her in the passenger seat. She started the engine and aimlessly backed out of the parking lot running over a curb by accident.

"Shit, what just happened?" Kat asked breathlessly clutching the wheel tightly.

"I," Lucy popped her fingers one by one and shook her head. "I have no idea." She said. "But I have a feeling that I'm going to regret this later…" Lucy bit her lip and shut her eyes. "I could pull out my Ona's old spell book and see if there's a memory wiper…?" She suggested with her eyebrows raised.

"I think the best thing we can do now, is try and pretend it never happened. Who's gonna believe a bottle blond, bra stuffing barbie doll any who?"

1 note · View note