A moonlit mystery. (Story - Maryl DiVosari)
Posted: 24 Mar 2017, 00:47
--Five years ago--
The water clattered upon the pavement, a car occasionally zooming by the four figures muttering and laughing as they are huddled together beneath a black umbrella that was barely coping with the weather. Two men and two women, all about the same age in their early twenties, hurried along through the rain through the streets of Chicago, one of the boys leading them along. Athletic, with short light-brown hair in a mohawk, wearing torn jeans and a rugged-looking denim jacket with plenty of pins near his shoulders. A lopsided smile curls on his face as he proclaims: "C'mon, we're almost there! Unless you've all become too scared, of course?" One of the girls responds with a light frown on her face, nearly covered by the now soaked, halflong blonde hair across her face and the look on her eyes emboldened by slightly run-out eyeliner: "You mean like that time Anders put a live bat in your locker and you nearly shat yourself? Just hurry up Daniel, I'm freezing!" Undeterred, Daniel maintains the smirk on his face: "It's just by the trainyard up ahead. Been abandoned for about fifty-some years now, and people say strange stuff happens there all the time..." The other young man, a bit slender and slightly tall with jet black, short and ruffled hair and a pair of thick glasses on his nose, wearing a Misfits shirt pipes up: "You're full of ****, Daniel." That finally decreases the smirk on Daniel's face a bit, as he says: "Always such a downer, Mitch..."
Finally, the four pass over many old rails in between broken down wagons covered in graffiti, until they reach what looks to be a very old and large abandoned rail station. Many of it's large windows are broken and busted, some doors hang off their frames and the walls are covered in either graffiti art or some of the many vague signatures and symbols that litter this landscape. The entrance hall is large, but with much rubble against the sides, broken down waiting seats, boarded off rooms and the occasional leak from the roof that forms a puddle on the ground, where a fair amount of plantlife has begun to grow through the cracked floor tiles. They pass through a door around which someone has painted a creepy clown, making the door it's head. Meryl's eyes dart to some police tape that looks like it's been on the floor for ages, covered in grime and muck. The four look around the place after sighing in relief from having cover from the weather, glancing at the large hall with it's upper level where seemingly used to be shops, and a large walkway that spans over what used to be about a dozen rails. "I have to admit." says Maryl with a soft smirk, as she wrings out her long, purple dyed hair and pulls it backwards to make a ponytail. "Not a terrible find, for once." She wears a pair of black, baggy jeans and a black leather jacket, beneath which is an Arch Enemy band shirt with the words "Wages of Sin" on it. "This way, I know of an old stove that still works." says Daniel, to which Mitch immediately responds: "That sounds promising." in his usual tone that you can barely tell is sarcastic.
As the four of them huddle around the old stove, trying to get dry with Mitch and Daniel finding stuff to burn in it, the blonde woman turns to Maryl: "So do you believe in ghosts? That's what we're trying to find here, right?" she asks, as she gives a brief glance to Daniel, whom just gives an enthusiastic nod. "Well... I believe that there are definetly things which we don't, or can't, perceive. Maybe because we're not capable of doing so, or maybe because we don't open ourselves up to it, ya know? Like a suit that doesn't bother to spend one minute of their life listening to a street musician. What about you, Lisa?" the blonde is using a small mirror to try and adjust the run-out eyeliner as best she can, wiping some of it away as she responds: "Ohh, I uhh... never gave it too much thought..." she leans in a little closer "I'm just here to hang out with Daniel, really..." The both of them chuckle and begin murmuring under their breath, until Daniel pipes up once again: "Right then! Everyone all nice and dry and ready to explore? You did bring the camera right, Mitch?" He looks over to the slender, blonde guy adding more wood to the old stove, before closing it's hatch and turning: "Yeah yeah. I get to watch you stumble around in search of nothing and wish you brought booze in about an hour." , to which Lisa goes: "Ohh, come on! It'll be fun..." while Daniel smirks, pulling out a bottle of what looks like whiskey from his jacket. "Oh no buddy, I got -that- covered." He grins widely, while Mitch smirks and shakes his head.
Wandering about the place, exploring room by room and occasionally toying around with the things they find, the four gradually make their way through the abandoned station, seeming at least somewhat entertained as the darkness of the night creeps in, and flashlights are turned on. Daniel comes to a bunch of heavy panels on the ground that look like they can be moved, beneath which looks to be a crawlspace that leads to a nearby, sealed off room. Lisa stands near the doorway watching Daniel, holding the bottle while Daniel murmurs to Mitch: "Hey, help me with this, will ya?" Mitch hands the recording camera to Meryl, seeming a bit reluctant to let go of it, before turning to help Daniel move the panels aside. After a lot of effort, the panels shift and they both look into the crawlspace. But everyone's attention shifts to the doorway at the sound of shattering glass, finding it empty. Daniel immediately shouts out: "Lisa? Lisa!?" and the three rush over to try and determine what happened, only finding the remains of the now broken bottle, and a lit flashlight rolling across the floor. What was light amusement turns into a steadily increasing dread as they search the place again, calling out for Lisa, but not finding a single trace. A mixture of panic and sadness comes over the trio, and after tirelessly searching the place for a fair while in the dark of night, finally they call the police. Over the next few days, a massive search is conducted, but the police can find nothing conclusive... upon reviewing the footage, all they could see... was a vague shadow and a blur.
The three argued about what happened, and in the coming years they would only barely keep in touch with eachother. Daniel would drop out of school in the last years and gets kicked out of his home, becoming a squatter, junkie and petty criminal. Mitch ended his studies with a knack for biological science, but spends too much time on ghost-hunting to get anywhere with his career. And Maryl... Maryl would be lost. She finished her educations in Social Sciences, History and Business, and had some low-paid jobs as saleswoman or secretary before becoming a Professor of History and Anthropology at the University of Chicago. But in truth, she was still tirelessly looking for answers. When she wasn't looking for anything strange, odd or occult on the internet with a particular talent for finding private information, she'd be looking into books on the subject, and attempting occult practices of Voodoo, Wicca and even attempting things of her own making, trying to gain answers wherever she could...
--Not too long ago...--
Maryl comes home to her cramped Chicago apartment, taking off a long dark blue coat and loosening her hair with a sigh. She presses a few buttons on her house phone and rubs her forehead as she looks at the latest paperwork from being fired. She then puts something from the phone on speaker before going to make herself a drink in the nearby kitchen. Throughout the house, the raspy, familiar voice of Mitch is heard:
"Hey Maryl, it's me uhh... Mitch. I know... I know we haven't spoken much after last time. Before you end this message, just listen, please! ... I found her! I found... Lisa... well, almost. I -know- she's here! After all these years... I... I'd understand if you want nothing to do with this. But if you change your mind, I'm staying at a place called Motel Luna, in Harper Rock, Canada. I uhh... I also got a hold of Daniel. He's... somewhat clean, and we're both here, searching for Lisa, and we could really use your help..."
A brief pause is had, as Meryl sets down the glass of wine she poured herself.
"... I really hope you'll be here, soon..." says Mitch's voice coming from the phone, and a beep is heard as that's the end of the message.
--Some time later...--
It's a moody, rainy evening much like that night, five years ago... the wind wipers of the dark blue car go back and forth, their squeaking accompanied by the trickling of rain are almost the only noises as Meryl tries to focus on the road. An old, worn sign is briefly lit up by the lights of the car, stating 'Welcome to Harper Rock', she presses some buttons on the car stereo to put on some music, but just as her eyes dart to the road once again, something passes by the front of the car at great speed, and she pumps her foot on the breaks. With the slippery road, the car loses control despite her efforts and begins to roll, tumbling into woods behind a bend... and all turns to black, as she loses conciousness...
Pain. Anywhere and everywhere. First, there's warmth, an intense heat that makes her skin feel like it's melting away... but then everything goes cold... the sensation is strange, and her mind barely registers it all. Her last thoughts were the simple, and inevitable acceptance of death. And then... she wakes.
She blinks, looking up at a grey ceiling, staring at it motionlessly for a certain amount of time. Slowly, she realises she can move, though it's painful, like a cramp that hasn't been tended to for quite a while. Everything feels weird. Colours, tastes, sounds, ... sometimes she thinks she senses something, but the moment she tries to focus on it, it fades away. Only a small trickle of light pours in from the nearby windows of what's now visible as the garage she finds herself in. She heavily leans against the wall, and opens the curtain to look outside...
... a wave of excruciating pain comes over her, and she falls to the ground, the curtain falling in place once again. Smoke rises from her very skin, and she smells what is unmistakenly fire. She grasps her head as her nose bleeds, a flashback appearing in her mind... the crashing of metal, and that same smell. Fire. Something grabs a hold of her, pulls her away... as her vision returns to her, tools and nearby rubble from shelves fall to the ground, as if an unseen force rummaged around there, violently, and the windows shake briefly, before coming to a halt. She curls into a ball and sleep tries to set in, again. But there is the creaking sound of a door opening. A middle-aged, black man with a short, grey beard and a blue cap enters, saying something as he sees her. But the words don't reach her ears, instead all she hears is... a rhytmic thud, enchanting and alluring. It only becomes worse when the man kneels over her to check for wounds, asking for a name. She mutters, quietly and barely audible. Instinctively, the man brings his head closer, trying to hear the whispers... her eyes dart to a visible, throbbing vein in the man's neck.
Then, she learned about the thirst, the undescribeable life-changing sensation... and her new life began, at the expense of someone else's...
The water clattered upon the pavement, a car occasionally zooming by the four figures muttering and laughing as they are huddled together beneath a black umbrella that was barely coping with the weather. Two men and two women, all about the same age in their early twenties, hurried along through the rain through the streets of Chicago, one of the boys leading them along. Athletic, with short light-brown hair in a mohawk, wearing torn jeans and a rugged-looking denim jacket with plenty of pins near his shoulders. A lopsided smile curls on his face as he proclaims: "C'mon, we're almost there! Unless you've all become too scared, of course?" One of the girls responds with a light frown on her face, nearly covered by the now soaked, halflong blonde hair across her face and the look on her eyes emboldened by slightly run-out eyeliner: "You mean like that time Anders put a live bat in your locker and you nearly shat yourself? Just hurry up Daniel, I'm freezing!" Undeterred, Daniel maintains the smirk on his face: "It's just by the trainyard up ahead. Been abandoned for about fifty-some years now, and people say strange stuff happens there all the time..." The other young man, a bit slender and slightly tall with jet black, short and ruffled hair and a pair of thick glasses on his nose, wearing a Misfits shirt pipes up: "You're full of ****, Daniel." That finally decreases the smirk on Daniel's face a bit, as he says: "Always such a downer, Mitch..."
Finally, the four pass over many old rails in between broken down wagons covered in graffiti, until they reach what looks to be a very old and large abandoned rail station. Many of it's large windows are broken and busted, some doors hang off their frames and the walls are covered in either graffiti art or some of the many vague signatures and symbols that litter this landscape. The entrance hall is large, but with much rubble against the sides, broken down waiting seats, boarded off rooms and the occasional leak from the roof that forms a puddle on the ground, where a fair amount of plantlife has begun to grow through the cracked floor tiles. They pass through a door around which someone has painted a creepy clown, making the door it's head. Meryl's eyes dart to some police tape that looks like it's been on the floor for ages, covered in grime and muck. The four look around the place after sighing in relief from having cover from the weather, glancing at the large hall with it's upper level where seemingly used to be shops, and a large walkway that spans over what used to be about a dozen rails. "I have to admit." says Maryl with a soft smirk, as she wrings out her long, purple dyed hair and pulls it backwards to make a ponytail. "Not a terrible find, for once." She wears a pair of black, baggy jeans and a black leather jacket, beneath which is an Arch Enemy band shirt with the words "Wages of Sin" on it. "This way, I know of an old stove that still works." says Daniel, to which Mitch immediately responds: "That sounds promising." in his usual tone that you can barely tell is sarcastic.
As the four of them huddle around the old stove, trying to get dry with Mitch and Daniel finding stuff to burn in it, the blonde woman turns to Maryl: "So do you believe in ghosts? That's what we're trying to find here, right?" she asks, as she gives a brief glance to Daniel, whom just gives an enthusiastic nod. "Well... I believe that there are definetly things which we don't, or can't, perceive. Maybe because we're not capable of doing so, or maybe because we don't open ourselves up to it, ya know? Like a suit that doesn't bother to spend one minute of their life listening to a street musician. What about you, Lisa?" the blonde is using a small mirror to try and adjust the run-out eyeliner as best she can, wiping some of it away as she responds: "Ohh, I uhh... never gave it too much thought..." she leans in a little closer "I'm just here to hang out with Daniel, really..." The both of them chuckle and begin murmuring under their breath, until Daniel pipes up once again: "Right then! Everyone all nice and dry and ready to explore? You did bring the camera right, Mitch?" He looks over to the slender, blonde guy adding more wood to the old stove, before closing it's hatch and turning: "Yeah yeah. I get to watch you stumble around in search of nothing and wish you brought booze in about an hour." , to which Lisa goes: "Ohh, come on! It'll be fun..." while Daniel smirks, pulling out a bottle of what looks like whiskey from his jacket. "Oh no buddy, I got -that- covered." He grins widely, while Mitch smirks and shakes his head.
Wandering about the place, exploring room by room and occasionally toying around with the things they find, the four gradually make their way through the abandoned station, seeming at least somewhat entertained as the darkness of the night creeps in, and flashlights are turned on. Daniel comes to a bunch of heavy panels on the ground that look like they can be moved, beneath which looks to be a crawlspace that leads to a nearby, sealed off room. Lisa stands near the doorway watching Daniel, holding the bottle while Daniel murmurs to Mitch: "Hey, help me with this, will ya?" Mitch hands the recording camera to Meryl, seeming a bit reluctant to let go of it, before turning to help Daniel move the panels aside. After a lot of effort, the panels shift and they both look into the crawlspace. But everyone's attention shifts to the doorway at the sound of shattering glass, finding it empty. Daniel immediately shouts out: "Lisa? Lisa!?" and the three rush over to try and determine what happened, only finding the remains of the now broken bottle, and a lit flashlight rolling across the floor. What was light amusement turns into a steadily increasing dread as they search the place again, calling out for Lisa, but not finding a single trace. A mixture of panic and sadness comes over the trio, and after tirelessly searching the place for a fair while in the dark of night, finally they call the police. Over the next few days, a massive search is conducted, but the police can find nothing conclusive... upon reviewing the footage, all they could see... was a vague shadow and a blur.
The three argued about what happened, and in the coming years they would only barely keep in touch with eachother. Daniel would drop out of school in the last years and gets kicked out of his home, becoming a squatter, junkie and petty criminal. Mitch ended his studies with a knack for biological science, but spends too much time on ghost-hunting to get anywhere with his career. And Maryl... Maryl would be lost. She finished her educations in Social Sciences, History and Business, and had some low-paid jobs as saleswoman or secretary before becoming a Professor of History and Anthropology at the University of Chicago. But in truth, she was still tirelessly looking for answers. When she wasn't looking for anything strange, odd or occult on the internet with a particular talent for finding private information, she'd be looking into books on the subject, and attempting occult practices of Voodoo, Wicca and even attempting things of her own making, trying to gain answers wherever she could...
--Not too long ago...--
Maryl comes home to her cramped Chicago apartment, taking off a long dark blue coat and loosening her hair with a sigh. She presses a few buttons on her house phone and rubs her forehead as she looks at the latest paperwork from being fired. She then puts something from the phone on speaker before going to make herself a drink in the nearby kitchen. Throughout the house, the raspy, familiar voice of Mitch is heard:
"Hey Maryl, it's me uhh... Mitch. I know... I know we haven't spoken much after last time. Before you end this message, just listen, please! ... I found her! I found... Lisa... well, almost. I -know- she's here! After all these years... I... I'd understand if you want nothing to do with this. But if you change your mind, I'm staying at a place called Motel Luna, in Harper Rock, Canada. I uhh... I also got a hold of Daniel. He's... somewhat clean, and we're both here, searching for Lisa, and we could really use your help..."
A brief pause is had, as Meryl sets down the glass of wine she poured herself.
"... I really hope you'll be here, soon..." says Mitch's voice coming from the phone, and a beep is heard as that's the end of the message.
--Some time later...--
It's a moody, rainy evening much like that night, five years ago... the wind wipers of the dark blue car go back and forth, their squeaking accompanied by the trickling of rain are almost the only noises as Meryl tries to focus on the road. An old, worn sign is briefly lit up by the lights of the car, stating 'Welcome to Harper Rock', she presses some buttons on the car stereo to put on some music, but just as her eyes dart to the road once again, something passes by the front of the car at great speed, and she pumps her foot on the breaks. With the slippery road, the car loses control despite her efforts and begins to roll, tumbling into woods behind a bend... and all turns to black, as she loses conciousness...
Pain. Anywhere and everywhere. First, there's warmth, an intense heat that makes her skin feel like it's melting away... but then everything goes cold... the sensation is strange, and her mind barely registers it all. Her last thoughts were the simple, and inevitable acceptance of death. And then... she wakes.
She blinks, looking up at a grey ceiling, staring at it motionlessly for a certain amount of time. Slowly, she realises she can move, though it's painful, like a cramp that hasn't been tended to for quite a while. Everything feels weird. Colours, tastes, sounds, ... sometimes she thinks she senses something, but the moment she tries to focus on it, it fades away. Only a small trickle of light pours in from the nearby windows of what's now visible as the garage she finds herself in. She heavily leans against the wall, and opens the curtain to look outside...
... a wave of excruciating pain comes over her, and she falls to the ground, the curtain falling in place once again. Smoke rises from her very skin, and she smells what is unmistakenly fire. She grasps her head as her nose bleeds, a flashback appearing in her mind... the crashing of metal, and that same smell. Fire. Something grabs a hold of her, pulls her away... as her vision returns to her, tools and nearby rubble from shelves fall to the ground, as if an unseen force rummaged around there, violently, and the windows shake briefly, before coming to a halt. She curls into a ball and sleep tries to set in, again. But there is the creaking sound of a door opening. A middle-aged, black man with a short, grey beard and a blue cap enters, saying something as he sees her. But the words don't reach her ears, instead all she hears is... a rhytmic thud, enchanting and alluring. It only becomes worse when the man kneels over her to check for wounds, asking for a name. She mutters, quietly and barely audible. Instinctively, the man brings his head closer, trying to hear the whispers... her eyes dart to a visible, throbbing vein in the man's neck.
Then, she learned about the thirst, the undescribeable life-changing sensation... and her new life began, at the expense of someone else's...
(( What happened next: "Wendigo-go dancers"))
