Midnight Water

The little trawling boat rocked gently on the waves. The black water seemed to stretch on for ever in the night. Jerry had never been out this far into the Gulf of Mexico before. He'd ran a few trawls down the river with his cousins. But this was his first paid job.

"Peaceful, no", said a voice.

It was the captain of the small vessel, Mark. Mark was in his forties or so Jerry guessed.

"Yea, it's so quiet", said Jerry.

"Not many birds this far out. Just, do me a favor, stay in the boat."

"Sure thing."

Jerry tried not to take offence to this last remark. It was true, Jerry was only seventeen, but he wasn't an idiot. Mark didn't smile, he just turned back toward the small pilot house and sat back in his chair. Jerry did his best not to be annoyed. They'd been out there for hours already. And still they hadn't so much as dropped a net. They were just floating there aimless. Jerry slumped down and put his arms over the edge of the boat.

Something caught his attention, a flash of light in the water. Jerry focused hard. He wasn't sure if he had just imagined that light in the darkness. Then. it happened again. Jerry reached over and picked up one of the long catch poles. Carefully he reached down toward the spot where he saw the light. The water began to glow in ripples as the pole touched something. Jerry looked back toward the pilot house. But Mark seemed almost asleep in his chair.

Jerry had heard stories of lights in the water before. Jellyfish and some algae were known to glow at night. He didn't want to seem stupid so he didn't bother telling Mark. He pulled the pole back and the glowing stopped. This became a game to him. He'd poke the water and watch it glow then pull the stick back. Just something to breakup the emptiness of the night.

Jerry sometimes thought he saw shapes in the water. What looked like faces. Smiling at his imagination he poked at on one. The glow was so bright. He went to pull the pole away, but the pole didn't come. Jerry stood dumbfounded as the pole twisted from his hands and disappeared into the water.

He stood there a moment completely unsure what just happened. Maybe he just dropped the pole or it caught a log that was just under the surface. The pole was wooden so it should be floating. Jerry leaned down close to the edge, which was still a good five feet from the water.But he couldn't make out anything in the blackness. He walked over to the pilot house. Mark was audibly snoring. Jerry picked up a flashlight from the wall mount and walked back to the boats edge.

But before he could turn the light on he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look and there sticking up out of the water was the large catch pole. Jerry walked over to it. It was just standing out of the water about three feet from the boat. Jerry reached out for it, but couldn't get a good grasp. Slowly the pole started to sink. Panicked Jerry grabbed a handful of rigging from on of the trawls and stepped over the edge of the boat.  The pole started sinking faster. Jerry lost his footing.

The boat made a strange metal noise as he stumbled off the edge. It was as if the boat was pitched up to aid in him falling off. But Jerry never let go of the rigging. With both feet dangling over the water Jerry scrambled to get back into the boat. He crashed onto the deck, out of breath. He looked over his shoulder towards the pilot house. Mark was standing there with a thermos lid of coffee in his hand.

"Thought I told you to stay in the boat", he said.

Jerry couldn't respond. He wasn't sure where to start.

"Come on kid. It's showtime", he said throwing the rest of his coffee over board.

Jerry stood up and watched as the mechanical arms dropped the nets into the water.  The Gulf flashed to life. The sound of the engines cut through the silence. Shaking, Jerry walked into the pilot house.

"The water, it took a pole from me", he said to Mark.

Mark gave him a sideways look.

"Kid you ain't seen nothing yet."

Voices

He walked into the dimly lit room. A small boy sat quietly in the center of the floor. The lights danced around him. The man sat down across from him, confused.

"Who are you", the man asked.

"What's left", said the boy.

The man expected puzzles and push backs. His kind is always talking in riddles.

"Why are you left", asked the man.

"Because you keep killing me", responded the boy.

The man knew better than to take the bait. If he let his emotions flare the boy would use that.

"Death is a natural part of existence. Don't you like the idea of being able to rest?"

"I've been asleep for far too long as is."

"What's your earliest memory?"

 "Dancing in the rain as the flood waters rose."

"Do you know when that was?"

"In the hot summer. During the big storm."

 "Did the storm have a name?"

 "Betsy."

"Hurricane Betsy happened long before you were born." 

"Before WE were born."

The man was used to elaborate back stories, sometimes outright lies. But something in the way the boy spoke made it hard to disbelieve him.

"What's your happiest memory?"

The boy paused for a while in deep thought.

"The look on her face right after we've made love."

This surprised the man. It wasn't like one of them to break character. The boy was obviously too young to have ever had a lover.

"Don't you think you're a little young to know things like that?"

"Don't be silly. I'm older than you."

"That's impossible, and you know it is."

"Impossible things are rare."

The boy's defenses were unlike any he'd seen. Normally he could invalidate the persona. Force it to realize it wasn't real. This boy seemed to defy any logic. Yet he was so confident in his existence.
suddenly there were bells in the darkness. The man looked around.

"I have to go. Can I come back and talk with you again?"

"Yes, I'm always here when you are."

Confused by this last statement the man began counting backwards from ten. Slowly the small room faded into pure black. Th man opened his eyes. He was laying on a small couch in an office. He sat up and looked at the small table in front of him. On it was a small pad full of notes and a beeping watch. The man picked up the watch and turned it off. He flipped to a blank page in the pad and began jotting down notes.

"Boy, approx. age 10. Persistent persona. Danced in the rain during Betsy."

This last sentence bothered him. It was a contradiction on many levels. The boy appeared way to young to have experienced that storm. A storm that happened fifteen years before the man was even born. Out of curiosity and the need to gain information to discredit the boy the man started his laptop. He searched the internet for hours, looking up information, trying to find a hole in the boys story.

Then his jaw went slack. Among some grizzly pictures from the storm there was a small boy floating face up in the water. His features bared a striking resemblance to the boy in the room. The man shook his head. He must have seen this somewhere. This image must have stuck in his mind and manifested as this boy. But he couldn't shake the feeling that the boy was being genuine.

The man had been dealing with the voices in his head his entire life. The hallucinations  plagued him since he was a child. He spent the better part of his life medicated. But now he was a doctor of abnormal psychology. Through his new treatment he had freed himself of most of the voices. He even started cutting back his medication. But this one persona wouldn't leave. This one ghost.

The Temple by the Water

Before the beginning the was Panmundus.  Panmundus was the first planet in the first universe long before the the cataclysm the shaped the triverse we know today. It was a massive sphere covered in a thick black substance called Shadow Water. But the surface of Panmundus was not meant to be inhabitable. Instead just below the Shadow Water and the rock was a beautiful land of mountains and grass. Gravity was inverted here. People walked along the inner shell of Panmundus without ever being able to see across to the other side. At the center of the mighty planet was a star. Not just any star, but the first star. It radiated light, warmth, and life to the inhabitants around it. Night was marked by a giant moon that orbited the massive star. It created days that were as long as three of ours, and a night that lasted only half.

In this world lived a boy named Shen. Shen lived a simple life in his tiny village. But he dreamed of greater things. Not far from the village was the Great Shrine, a massive temple sitting on the bank of a large ocean. Shen would often go sit on the steps with his feet in the water. The Shadow water would float around taking the shape of fish. Sometimes tickling Shen's feet. The Temple Monks were a very cheerful people. They would bring food down to the water's edge to pray.  Shen was always invited to their feasts.

This was Shen's dream, to become a Monk here. They were very peaceful, but they were the protectors of the Temple. History told of the first two people ever. They crawled out of the Ocean here. The two brothers were responsible for all the tings that populated Panmundus. But when it came to creating people they had disagreements. One brother sought to rule as a king. While the other looked to create equals like them. The two brothers diverged creating the 2 continents of Panmundus.

Shen could see the Dark Continent across the ocean. It was little more than a distant narrow line in the distance. Stories say that during the Great War the brothers met on the battlefield. The tyrannical brother defeated but not killed. Instead he was confined to a tower for eternity. That was long before Shen existed. A story that was only a legend now, marked on the walls of the Great Temple.

But if that forgotten king were to ever get free these Monks would be called upon to defend their home land. This is what Shen wanted. To be a member of this mighty yet peaceful force. He would have his chance soon. The Monks allowed all interested to undergo the Exam, a series of tests to prove your ability to fight.

Today was Shen's fourteenth birthday. He was finally old enough to take the Exam. Many people tried, they came from far away places, but very few passed. Shen was among the youngest to take try. Living so close to the temple made his pilgrimage much easier than most.

He was very nervous and found himself sitting on the steps like always with his feet in the water. The Monks had known of his intentions since he was a boy. None were surprised by his goal, nor his apprehension. One of the Monks walked down to the water to greet him. With a comforting hand The Monk lead him toward the temple. Today he would prove he was a man.

Digital Dreams |NSFW|

Man's quest for artificial intelligence was driven by many things. At first it was an exercise to better understand our own minds. Then, and ambition to create something potentially better than ourselves. However, history has shown that our advancement in technology aren't driven by such pure intentions.

In the beginning we struggled to describe the way the human brain worked with languages. First with psychology, then computer code. We created models and simulations but nothing could achieve spontaneous thought. In the mid twenty-first century we turned our attention to interfacing with computers. Devices like 'Lucid' came on the market allowing humans, for the first time, to directly connect with a machine.

This advancement lead to the first cybernetic humans, or cHumans. The advancements were completely unnoticeable to the naked eye. cHumans main upgrade were the wireless connections and memory storage. This allowed perfect recall of events as well as sharing of those events. It was with this technology that A.I. would be born.

It was in the late twenty-first century when Doctor Alan Carter and his team developed the first consciousness chip. Doctor Carter was a world renowned biologist. His work in cybernetic development pushed the limits of what we know as human. He spent years determining how humans develop consciousness in the womb. It was here he made his discovery.

Intelligence was almost impossible to duplicate. However, it could be trapped. With the development of the first consciousness chip, Doctor Carter found a way to build a container that consciousness could inhabit. Through all our already existing cybernetic advancements the first artificial intelligence was born.

The system was simple, the memory banks were given a collection of driving forces. Much like our basic urges. They rewarded the consciousness with euphoria for following them. At first the interest was military. But fears that these machines might go rouge quickly put an end to that. But humans are enterprising creatures and it wasn't long before aHumans, INC was created.

Doctor Carter's main goal was to one day transfer his consciousness into that of a chip. To this end he developed a humanoid system. it was little more than a skeleton with a spinal column and brain. But when submerged in a DNA replicator it would grow biologics to match any person. Unfortunately Doctor Carter died before his dream was realized. All his research reverted to the corporation aHumans, INC.

Soon the market was flooded with personal assistants. With a little DNA of anyone you could own your own version of that person. This created a secondary market where you could by DNA of celebrities and the physically elite. Black markets also sprung up, selling mixed and altered DNA.

In this new world Alice was born. She found herself in the home of a wealthy man. Her memory already populated with his needs, wants, and desires. She was structured to be nine-teen years old. Her first non-programmed memory was laying naked in a bed. Her hair was long and blond, with curls in it. She sat up and found a uniform of sorts in the closet. Her urges pushed her to get dressed and pin up her hair. She then ventured downstairs.

The wealthy man was named Brian Charger. He had purchased Alice to add to his collection of aHumans. Alice came down and was introduced to the other three: Stevenson, Gerald, and Cooper. These aHumans were coded from celebrity DNA stock and were dressed as waiters. Soon the party was underway. The three male aHumans mingled, serving beverages and acting as the best impersonators for the celebrities they appeared to be. Parties like this were not uncommon.

Alice, however, was led to another room. Here she stripped down and laid on a giant table. After a while the male aHumans came in and began laying out food on her. Then the guests arrived. Some were shocked to see the spread others found it hilarious. Alice's felt wonderful. This was part of her programming.

After everyone ate Mr. Charger had Alice go around the room. She was programmed with a large assortment of sexual behaviors. It wasn't long before the party had dispersed into a few people eager to have sex with her. Mr. Charger just watched from his chair. He watched as men and women both took turns with her. Some would smack her, others would pull her hair. Each time Alice felt wave after wave of euphoria.

When they were finally done Mr. Charger took her upstairs to his room. He lead her to a shower where she cleaned herself off. When she emerged from the bathroom Mr. Charger was naked. Without hesitation Alice got on her knees. Mr. Charger was not gentle. Slamming into her mouth. Tears welled up in Alice's eyes as she struggled to breath. But Mr. Charger didn't stop. He pulled out of her and she began gasping for air. He picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. She felt him slam into her, but not the place that so many had been tonight. He was deep inside her. This sent sensations of pain through Alice, but it was outweighed by the euphoria that coursed over her.

Soon she felt his hands around her neck. He squeezed down tight as he slammed into her. The sensations began to get far away as everything went dark. Alice's eyes sprung open. She was in the small room again, naked on the bed. She got up and put on her uniform and did her hair. Downstairs she could hear shouting. Alice made her way to the bottom of the stairs and stood waiting.

Out of a door came the source of the shouting. A woman with blond hair pinned up just like Alice's. In fact this woman could be Alice's twin, except she was a lot older. She locked eyes with Alice and snarled. Mr. Charger rushed in behind her. His face dropped when he saw Alice standing there. He commanded her to go to her room as he chased after the woman. Alice turned away making her way upstairs. But she could hear them arguing still. Apparently the woman was the ex Mrs. Charger.

Time and flowers

They sat quietly across from one another. Both men as still as the stone slab that separated them. The man in his fancy black suit and his white shirt laid down two of his cards. The other gentlemen, whom had long since lost his coat to the weather, carefully drew two new cards from the deck and passed them across the large stone slab. After examining his new cards Mr. Black sifted through a bundle of flowers. Roses, daffodils, and lilies were arranged in neat piles on his side of the large stone structure. Mt. Black took his time sorting through the roses. Finally he arrived at what he felt was the perfect one. Holding it to his nose, he felt a wave of sadness at it's lack of scent. Carefully he laid the rose on top of the pile between the two men.

Mr. White, in his dingy white shirt, looked back to his hand. He rearranged his cards once, then twice. He laid down three cards and dealt himself three more. Then he plucked a rose from his carefully arranged collection. He had been at the table far longer than Mr. Black. He wasn't so attached to the loss the accompanied this game. With their bets settled the two gentlemen laid down their hands. The game fell in favor to Mr. White with his two pair.

The night had become day, so much time had passed between hands. Mr. Black was still getting used to the pace of the game. In the bright sunlight people came. They gathered around the tables and brought more flowers. Mr. Black was thankful, he was running low. Mr. White, however, had to keep winning for no helpful person replenished his stacks. But that's alright he was good at cards.

the next day brought in more people than usual. A band played as the people paraded in. Mr. Black had never seen this before. He watched as they walked by.

"What's going on", he asked.

"They're installing a new table", said Mr. White. 

The Spider Hunt

The graveyard was quiet. But that's the way they are supposed to be.  Darius sat motionless against an angel statue. His eyes fixed on a solitary tomb. He had been out in this god forsaken part of the world for too long. He had followed the leads from New Orleans to England. Ended up in a small fishing town called Innsmouth. However, there was nothing left there, just the broken pieces of a forgotten cult. But rumors of his prey were still on their lips. They called him a god, an angel. But Darius knew better. He didn't realize how close they were when he took the train down into this nameless place. In this city of the dead Darius could see the signs. Empty graves appeared sunken into the ground, as if hollowed out from the inside. The good left in Darius was here to stop a catastrophe from happening. But the good was almost gone now. All Darius wanted was his answer: Could this person resurrect Anna.

The door on the tomb shifted and Darius raised his flintlock. The cool dark barrel took on a faint blue glow. The last piece of the puzzle. The sun was just fading away. leaving the cemetery in twilight. Darius was one with the statue. They both rested there waiting for the inevitable. As the shadow of the Earth crossed the doorway he heard it open further. In seconds his eyes adjusted to the light. The first walked out into the cemetery. Not shambling and broken, but as an almost complete man. His skin pulled tight around his thin frame. He walked out into the night, calmly, with purpose. Beyond him Darius could see more in the tomb waiting. They knew. Darius spent the train ride sleeping, the daylight makes him weak. But his prey had found him there.

A noise behind him pulled his attention away form the dead man in the center of the cemetery. Slowly Darius turned. From the edge of the tree line that bled through the gates they came. Hundreds of broken humans. some stitched together with more limbs than a person should have. They scurried through the brush like spiders. This was a trap and Darius now knew that.

His leg was seized by hands. Darius looked down to see a torso with a head stitched directly to it. Six arms and six hands began puling the monster onto him. Darius rolled off the statue and landed on the cobble below. He fired the flintlock point blank into the creatures face. The thing bounced backwards it's arms coiling like a dead roach. The sound drew the attention of the rest of the swarm. Darius drew the second flintlock from his belt and began firing wildly as he got to his feet. But it was no use. Within minuets he was overrun.

Darius came to chained up in a large crypt. His clothes were tattered and strewn about him. He forced himself to regain composure. A shape was moving in front of him. Darius' eyes cleared and for the first time since he began the hunt he was face to face with his prey. The man was tall and dressed in long black robes. His hair may have been blond once but now a thick layer of blood and gore coated it, making it look more like a helmet of awful. Darius was on his knees suspended by his wrists. The pain was nothing new to Darius but he could feel fresh bites on his body.

He forced himself to stand up.

"You are Marcus Reed, I presume", Darius said to the figure.

The man turned with a surprised look on his face.

"That was my name before I found out who I was", said the man.

"Oh? So your someone different now", Darius said both dazed and sarcastically.

"How is it that your still alive?"

"We all have secrets Marcus. In fact that's why I'm here, I want to ask you a question."

"Stop calling me Marcus, my name isn't Marcus."

Enraged the man threw a stone plate of various things into the wall.

"Alright, alright. What should I call you then?"

"I am Legion the keeper of many souls."

"That's a lot to say, how about Mister Tantrum? I like Mister Tantrum, it fits better."

Enraged the man lunged at Darius. Darius still trying to fight off the daze of a hundred bites found himself suspended by the neck. The man pulled him close to his face.

"Look here mortal, you will respect me."

Darius smiled then casually bit down on his nose. The man dropped Darius and recoiled in pain. Blood was squirting from a hole in the mans face where he used to have a noise. Darius began to chew, then spit out the lump of flesh and cartilage.  With new found strength Darius puled himself upright. The entire room filled with a light only he could see. With a flip of his wrists the chains snapped from the wall. Darius walked over to the man who was attempting to call for help.

"Now Mister Tantrum, is that anyway to treat a guest", he said mockingly.

The man managed a scream through the gurgles of blood. But before the room could fill with more wretched monstrosities. Darius moved to the archway. He reached up and flipped a stone free. In moments the opening was filled with rubble. Then casually Darius turned back toward the man.

"Two questions, Mister Tantrum: One, where are my guns? And two, how do you let them cross back?"

The man stumbled back and fell to the ground.

"Please, please don't kill me."

"I didn't say anything about killing you, I just want to know."

Darius was running low on patience and the new blood coursing through his veins began to burn in his mind.

"I don't want to die. Please, don't kill me."

Before even Darius realized it he was on top of the man. His eyes now a pale yellow in the darkness. Darius could feel his shirt getting tighter as he grew. His hand on the man's neck sprouted long black claws. Darius hoisted him into the air.

"ANSWER ME", he screamed.

Everything went silent. A low sound appeared; gentle sobbing. It was a woman's voice. Darius slowly scanned the dark room. in a corner he saw her. Her faint glow outlining a young woman. She coward in the corner with her face in her hands. Darius hadn't seen her. Maybe he didn't want to see her. He let the man fall to the floor then walked over to her.

"Anna", he said reaching out.

She recoiled at his words. Darius stopped when he noticed his hand. With shame in his heart he turned away from her. He walked over to a stone table and tried to calm himself. Among the clutter a book lay open. Darius could see a faint glow radiating from it.

"You're just a Nephilim. A child who found a loaded gun."

Darius picked up the book and started leafing through it. This was his real prey. Several pages illustrated needles and thread. Then a large diagram of an amulet with detailed notes appeared. Darius walked over to the crumpled crying man and pulled open his robe. Stitched into his chest was the realization of that diagram. The man tried to slap Darius away. Darius reached down and ripped the stone from the man's chest. A flash of light popped through the room. Slowly Darius crushed the amulet in his giant hand. Then, he dropped the sobbing man onto the floor.

Darius pushed the rubble out of the way and made a new path to the surface of the cemetery. The bodies of the dead lay twitching like a dead hive. His flintlocks were left where they had taken him. Their faint glow returning to a cool black. With the book in hand and his guns tucked away in their holsters her headed for the train station. Just another dead end.

Dead Roses

Kelly grew up in the swamps of Louisiana. She had a simple education matched with a simple life. sometimes her friends would take her into town, but for the most part Kelly liked it in her little swamp. There was just something here that was magic to a 15 year old girl. Swamp living wasn't that bad. Far from the absurdity Hollywood would portrays it as. Kelly had electricity and most everything any girl growing up in the United States had. The major difference was that she traveled by boat far more than by car.  Kelly's neighborhood was much like any other neighborhood as well. A Collection of houses dotted along the banks of the Atchafalaya River. It even had the mysterious house at the end of the road, or in this case, an old plantation house.

The plantation belonged to an old Creole family. The lore says it belonged to a wealthy slave owner name Delacroix. Delacroix was a very profitable tobacco farmer. He had many slaves that tended the house and the crops. But one in particular he always kept close. Her name was Lucy, or at least that was the name given to her when she became part of Delacroix's house. She was from Haiti and far more beautiful than any southern bell. Delacroix eventually freed her, but not before she gave him a son. It was looked down upon in those days for them to marry, however Lucy lived in the house for the duration of her years and despite never being able to take the name Delacroix herself.  Her children, however, inherited both the name and the house.

Many years have gone by since then. But small towns never forget good gossip. Over the years stories embellished and tales got taller. Legend that Lucy was a witch, that she seduced Delacroix, and now her children occupy the house as an homage to their Haitian god was common among the school yard.

The house now belonged to Aloysius Delacroix, the last in the family line. He lived in the house with his sister till about 5 years ago when she passed. Now Aloysius lives alone. The gardens she used to tend were now  overgrown and he was far to old to do any upkeep on the house himself. All in all, this made the house the perfect haunted house. This created the perfect test of bravery for the kids growing up along the Atchafalaya, and Kelly was no exception.

 The Friday night started like any other Friday night. Bored teenagers too young to get into the local bars trying to figure out what to do. Kelly always felt like she was trying to fit in. This constant threat of being an outcast often meant she was the brunt of the entertainment. That night they floated along the river; Kelly, Susan, Rick, and Steven. The boys were a year older and were doing their absolute best to entice the girls into sexual games. But Kelly and Susan were far smarter than the boys and rather enjoyed watching them get frustrated.

Frustration eventually turned to angst and Rick had revenge on his mind when the Delacroix Plantation floated into view. His dare was simple. In the back of the plantation was an old broken down green house supposedly over grown with roses. Snatch a rose and bring it back to the boat. Immediately Susan refused.  She was not one to be brave and had seen too many horror movies that started like this. Kelly on the other hand was always intrigued by the old house, so she agreed. Rick saw this as an opportunity and made Steven go with her.

The walk to the house was quiet as Steven did his very best not to show how nervous he was.  Kelly wasn't sure if it was the challenge or being alone with her that made him quiet and awkward. The house was dark, the only light they had came from the moon. They made their way around back. The broken glass of the greenhouse crunched under their feet as they approached. Kelly realized that Steven was a good 5 paces behind her. But something about he house kept her calm. Carefully she reached through a broken pain in the green house and plucked a white rose from the vines creeping up the wall. Proudly she turned around to show Steven, but he was slowly walking backwards, white as a ghost. Kelly walked up to him and he turned and broke into a sprint. Without looking back Kelly followed.

Back at the boat Susan was walking the levee while a very frustrated Rick sat in the boat. The panic in Steven's eyes when they got back lead to many questions. But Steven never responded. Finally Kelly produced her prize, a single white rose. She presented it to Susan as a gift, which Susan made a grand show of accepting. But even as Steven calmed down he refused to talk about what he saw.

It was now very late and Rick started dropping the kids off one at a time. Eventually, it was just Kelly and him in the boat together. When they reached her house Rick made one last attempt but Kelly wasn't interested.

"Hold up, I found this for you", he said holding out his hand.

Inside was a very old and rusted key.

"Where'd you get this", Kelly asked. 

"I found it on the levee while you and Steve were looking around."

Kelly took the present, although something felt very wrong about doing so.

"Thanks", she said.

 "No problem", said Rick leaning in for another attempt at a kiss.

Kelly just pushed him away and hopped out of the boat. That night she went about things as normal. She showered and got ready for bed. The key sat on her dresser. She dug through a jewelry box and  found an old chain. Slipping the end through the key she hung it up on her mirror. As she took her hand down she noticed the figure of a person behind her. Kelly turned and looked into the eyes of an old woman who was mostly transparent. Her out stretched hand pointed to the key. Kelly smiled.

"It's OK, I'll bring it back tomorrow", she said.

With those words the apparition vanished. This wan't the first ghost Kelly had seen. In fact she counted 3 on her way up to the old plantation alone. But they never wanted to hurt her, they just needed help. Something Kelly was willing to do.