never got around to playing with it.” Cory opened the box, revealing a board with fancy letters on it and a flat, heart-shaped object with a hole in the middle.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Marisol pushed her way between Todd and Cory to check out the game. “That’s too cool!”
“I don’t think it actually works,” Cory said with a bemused smile.
“Only one way to find out.” Todd placed the board on the blanket and motioned for them all to sit down around it. “Let’s conjure ourselves a spirit!”
Just then, a loud CRACK! echoed through the crypt. Marisol screamed.
“Something’s in here!”
* * *
John sat up, his heart pounding, his teeth clamped down on his own terrified shout. The banging sounded again, only this time it was just knuckles rapping on the bedroom door.
“John? Rise and shine buddy. Dinner’s almost ready and the others will be here soon. I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute; I just have to bring my mother her dinner.”
“Okay.” John rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes as Todd’s footsteps receded down the hall. His heart was beating so violently it actually made his head vibrate against the cool plaster.
Christ, it felt so real, almost as if I time-traveled back into my own body. Even now he could smell the musty odors of the crypt beneath the tantalizing scents drifting up from downstairs.
His hands still shaking, he levered himself from the bed and pulled on the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d taken from Todd’s closet. The sweats were kind of short on him but they’d do. He looked in the mirror, almost expecting to see the sixteen-year-old boy he’d been in his dream. Instead, the sunken, bloodshot eyes of his present day alcoholic self stared back at him, their clear blue color dimmed by too many bottles of cheap booze and too many nights of no sleep. He combed his longish, sleep-flattened hair back with his fingers and headed downstairs.
He’d just given the gravy a stir and snuck a fingerful of mashed potatoes when a knock on the back door made him jump. He replaced the lid on the potatoes, feeling foolishly guilty, as if he’d been caught stealing rather than tasting the food at a friend’s house.
“C’mon in,” he said, seeing Cory Miles’s face through the window.
Cory entered, a wide smile on his face. John tried to return the man’s enthusiastic greeting but instead of making him feel better, Cory’s presence brought back the fear he’d felt during his recent trip down memory lane.
“John? John Boyd? Todd didn’t tell me you’d be here. Man, it’s good to see you. Jesus, you’re as skinny as you were in high school.” Cory patted the slight roll of his own midsection. “I haven’t been so lucky. What’s your secret?”
John backed up, putting the corner of the table between them. “Alcoholism and living on the streets.”
Cory’s face froze and then his expression slowly grew serious, as if someone held a match to a wax smile. “Oh shit. I didn’t know. John, I’m sorry. If there’s—”
“Forget it.” John opened the ‘fridge and pulled out two sodas, wishing he had the power to turn them into beer. “Todd can fill you in another time. Tonight he wants to talk about something else.”
“What’s happening in town.” Cory opened his soda. “Todd thinks...he thinks it’s like twenty years ago.”
“It is.” John sat down. “I’ve seen them. In the graveyard. The Grays.”
“C’mon John. That alien shit didn’t cut it in high school. You don’t still believe it, do you?” Cory sat down across from him.
“Oh, so it’s okay to believe in demons and ghosts but not aliens?”
“I didn’t say I believed in them either. Just because something weird happens doesn’t mean there’s a supernatural cause. I’d rather focus on a rational explanation.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Cory frowned. “That’s kind of why we’re getting together tonight, to figure that out. But offhand, I
“Get the fuck out of here!” Marisol pushed her way between Todd and Cory to check out the game. “That’s too cool!”
“I don’t think it actually works,” Cory said with a bemused smile.
“Only one way to find out.” Todd placed the board on the blanket and motioned for them all to sit down around it. “Let’s conjure ourselves a spirit!”
Just then, a loud CRACK! echoed through the crypt. Marisol screamed.
“Something’s in here!”
* * *
John sat up, his heart pounding, his teeth clamped down on his own terrified shout. The banging sounded again, only this time it was just knuckles rapping on the bedroom door.
“John? Rise and shine buddy. Dinner’s almost ready and the others will be here soon. I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute; I just have to bring my mother her dinner.”
“Okay.” John rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes as Todd’s footsteps receded down the hall. His heart was beating so violently it actually made his head vibrate against the cool plaster.
Christ, it felt so real, almost as if I time-traveled back into my own body. Even now he could smell the musty odors of the crypt beneath the tantalizing scents drifting up from downstairs.
His hands still shaking, he levered himself from the bed and pulled on the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d taken from Todd’s closet. The sweats were kind of short on him but they’d do. He looked in the mirror, almost expecting to see the sixteen-year-old boy he’d been in his dream. Instead, the sunken, bloodshot eyes of his present day alcoholic self stared back at him, their clear blue color dimmed by too many bottles of cheap booze and too many nights of no sleep. He combed his longish, sleep-flattened hair back with his fingers and headed downstairs.
He’d just given the gravy a stir and snuck a fingerful of mashed potatoes when a knock on the back door made him jump. He replaced the lid on the potatoes, feeling foolishly guilty, as if he’d been caught stealing rather than tasting the food at a friend’s house.
“C’mon in,” he said, seeing Cory Miles’s face through the window.
Cory entered, a wide smile on his face. John tried to return the man’s enthusiastic greeting but instead of making him feel better, Cory’s presence brought back the fear he’d felt during his recent trip down memory lane.
“John? John Boyd? Todd didn’t tell me you’d be here. Man, it’s good to see you. Jesus, you’re as skinny as you were in high school.” Cory patted the slight roll of his own midsection. “I haven’t been so lucky. What’s your secret?”
John backed up, putting the corner of the table between them. “Alcoholism and living on the streets.”
Cory’s face froze and then his expression slowly grew serious, as if someone held a match to a wax smile. “Oh shit. I didn’t know. John, I’m sorry. If there’s—”
“Forget it.” John opened the ‘fridge and pulled out two sodas, wishing he had the power to turn them into beer. “Todd can fill you in another time. Tonight he wants to talk about something else.”
“What’s happening in town.” Cory opened his soda. “Todd thinks...he thinks it’s like twenty years ago.”
“It is.” John sat down. “I’ve seen them. In the graveyard. The Grays.”
“C’mon John. That alien shit didn’t cut it in high school. You don’t still believe it, do you?” Cory sat down across from him.
“Oh, so it’s okay to believe in demons and ghosts but not aliens?”
“I didn’t say I believed in them either. Just because something weird happens doesn’t mean there’s a supernatural cause. I’d rather focus on a rational explanation.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Cory frowned. “That’s kind of why we’re getting together tonight, to figure that out. But offhand, I
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