From The Omnibus – Souls Beneath the Withered Trees

Souls Beneath the Withered Trees

All was quiet on Hallowe’en night. That was, except for the slithering souls of the broken grounds. Exactly 200 years had passed since the accident. ‘Catastrophe,’ they would call it. ‘I heard the bus driver was paid to crash it.’ Yes it was a bus; how unfortunate. But the question was who? Who paid him? Why? Why would he want to be paid if he would’ve just breathed his last breath and not inherited anything? An abrupt noise made the sliding creatures stop in their icy tracks, losing concentration.

Peering from behind the wilted branches, all 17 ghosts observed closely as the abandoned shed door creaked open ever so slightly. Nothing had happened there for 100 years. Within the shed, they saw movement. Edging closer and closer – almost as if there was a strong force pulling them – the bodies swiftly swayed side to side as they made their way to the hut. This time a faint hum of wind could be heard, resembling thunder, emanating from the shack.

Finally reaching the entrance, the souls scanned for the soniferous object. Even though not found, they discovered much more; well not yet. Sweeping forwards, several souls slithered cautiously to discover what was more to this abandonment. Just one more step, and they would’ve heard weeping from the opposing side of the shed. 

Regrettably, one thought-to-be-brave soul, took an inching step towards the centre of the room. His ears screeched with sobs and shrieks. Painfully plunging his translucent fingertips into his ears, he backed away. The others looked strongly puzzled.

“MY EARDRUMS!” he rasped. Was he imagining things? No he couldn’t be. He’d lost that sense centuries ago. It had to be from the other side. Striding forward, he drowned in the deep abyss.

Down, down, down…

All was quiet on Hallowe’en night.

Eirene A 8J