Ghost Writer

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

I sat staring at the sentence, hoping for some sort of inspiration. Rain was hammering the window to my left; the wind was howling and battering trees against the side of the house. A night to set a perfect spooky scene. Yet, somehow, I was uninspired.

My cat Ichabod threaded between my legs for some attention, banging his head on my shins. He was all black with piercing blue eyes that were unusual for a feline of his color. I found him when I was visiting Salem one day last summer. I was leaving an occult bookstore and heard mewling in a dumpster down the alley. It was clearly a fated relationship.

I typed and deleted sentence after sentence. Nothing seemed worthy of publication. I finally gave up. Clearly I wasn't going to be able to write tonight, so I saved what I had so far and powered down the laptop. I scooped up Ichabod and went upstairs to bed.

---

I jolted awake, but I wasn't sure why. I rolled to look at the alarm clock and it was 3:33am. "Not creepy at all", I muttered. I laid in bed for a few minutes and decided I wanted some tea to help me fall back to sleep.

Making my way downstairs, I noticed the soft white light coming from my office. "I swear I shut that computer off", I thought. I shuffled over to the doorway and froze immediately. A man was sitting in my chair. From the back, I couldn't see his face, but he had the build of a tall athletic guy. His clothes were tattered and he seemed to have scratches all over his arms. He had dark hair twisted in a low bun that looked disheveled like something had been pulling at it.

He stiffened and turned his head slightly to the left as if suddenly aware of my presence. I barely had time to decide on screaming or running when he vanished right in front of me.

Mouth agape, I looked around for any sort of answer as to what just happened. I go to the computer to power it down when I realize that there were words typed out on the page. Not just words, a STORY. Shaking my head, I decided if Mr. Ghost felt it was important to materialize to share his missive, I should at least give him the courtesy of a peer evaluation. I sat down at the computer and began to read.

---

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

A young adventure-seeker named Bodhi was out in these woods walking with his dog Casper, as he did every Sunday. The two liked to take their time strolling after dinner, taking big deep breaths of the fresh air and relishing the last few hours of freedom before the work week began again the next day. Bodhi had trekked these woods almost daily since he was a child. He could tell you what types of birds nested above, and which plants were edible. Casper was a friendly dog, white with black freckles typical of a pointer breed. He loved going on these walks and digging for chipmunks with his favorite human.

The pair kept a steady pace on the trail until they came upon the homestead. The old cabin was your typical turn-of-the century home. It was one story and had a wraparound porch that looked like it was once a great place for daily coffee and a newspaper. The house was rotting all over; paint was peeling, the roof had caved in and the front window shutters were hanging by one hinge. Bodhi liked to remember the house in her glory days; painted bright white, with a red door and black shutters. The former owners, the Millers, fled town almost a decade ago. It was quite the mystery; they left suddenly one night without telling anyone. This poor dwelling sat empty ever since, sagging on all sides as if it felt dejected about being abandoned.

Bodhi looked down at his furry companion and looked again at the ominous dark candle flickering in the window. "That's strange, isn't it? Let's take a look", he tried to sound excited but he was as unnerved as Casper looked.

The pair crunched their way through fallen twigs and leaves to the area that was most likely the front pathway. Bodhi could see the candle clearly now. It was a long black taper candle, melted about 1/4 of the way down. Black drips like teardrops were leaking slowly down the side and pooling in a silver candelabra. A bright orange flame licked the glass, swaying seductively as if trying to lure Bodhi inside with her dance. He took a few more steps closer to the house.

He looked around for any signs of a person who could have lit the candle. Seeing no one, he stepped on to the porch. He was startled by the loud groan as the old boards took on his full weight. The hair on the back of his neck started to rise. Bodhi reached for the door knocker and noticed there was suddenly an eerie absence of sound. The entire forest was dead silent; even the crickets stopped chirping. It was as if Mother Nature herself was holding her breath waiting to see what happened next. Bodhi gave a few forceful raps with the hoop on the door and stepped back. Casper let out a low grumble to announce his discomfort.

Bodhi looked down at his faithful companion and back to the front door. He didn't see any movement through either window framing the door. He raised his hand to knock again when he heard "HEY!" from the brush to the right of the house. Casper's growl got louder. "Come on, dummy. It's probably just the owner", he tugged at Casper's leash. The dog refused to leave the porch.

"Fine, suit yourself", he said, tying the leash around a porch rail. "I will be right back."

He left the porch and pushed his way into the thicket, surrounded by tall grass and weeds, carefully listening for any noise to give away the mystery person's location. "Hello?" he called out, starting to feel uneasy.

"HEY!" That gravelly voice was now behind him. Bodhi was all turned around in the thick brush, desperately trying to keep his wits. He could still see the silhouette of the house, so he had a rough idea where he was. How this person managed to sound so close, yet remain invisible, was puzzling.

The sun was getting low in the sky, and Bodhi knew he needed to start the walk home. After a few more minutes of trampling through the brush, he turned to follow his self-made path back to the house. He had only made it a few steps, when a thin man appeared in the path. The lighting was poor and the man was only about 50 feet away, but he looked fuzzy, as if he was out of focus.

Bodhi squinted and raised a hand in greeting "Hello, sir! I am sorry to disturb you, but - " his breath caught and he watched the man come towards him. He took each step deliberately as if he was thinking about how and where to put his foot down. As he got closer, Bodhi saw his face had no defining features. His legs and arms were too long for his body, and his head was strangely misshapen. Realizing this man.. thing.. was blocking his path home, he started to kick himself for tying Casper to the porch.

The thing in front of Bodhi began to slowly change shape as if some unseen force was molding it out of clay. Legs and arms shortened several inches to be more proportionate to the body. The head and face slowly came into focus, chin.. nose.. eyes. A lean body with the toned muscles of an active and hard working man started to bulge. Next came its hair. Sprouting from the top of the head and growing swiftly, its brown flowing locks started to dance in the air as if caught in a mini tornado. The hair spun itself into a bun and sat at the back of the thing's head.

Fully terrified and feeling sick to his stomach, Bodhi watched this thing finalize its transformation into HIM. Right down to his boots with the leather stitching that Casper liked to gnaw on. Fake Bodhi straightened his posture, popping joints into place. When it was satisfied it had reached full duplication, it locked eyes with Bodhi. It opened its mouth to reveal pointed teeth gnashing together in evil glee. Its pointed fangs were dripping with saliva and blood, clearly fresh from a kill. Bodhi's mind immediately rushed to his defenseless friend on the porch.

He looked around for anything to use as a weapon. Most of the sticks in the brush were no wider than a wooden spoon handle. There were no rocks, or guns or axes either. He wished he'd listened to his dad when he encouraged him to get his gun license.

Fake Bodhi snarled and stepped closer. Bodhi dove into the brush and started desperately clawing his way through the thicket. He screamed and tore at the vegetation, not daring to look back. He couldn't hear anything but the plants snapping and the sound of his own heavy breathing. He kept the shadowy outline of the house in his field of vision at all times, making sure not to lose his way. He finally broke free of the brush and landed face first next to the porch. Bleeding from several cuts and scrapes, he ran around to the front, bracing himself for the scene he was sure to find.

Casper was sitting on a porch step, still tied up, calmly licking a paw. Bodhi's relief was short lived when he realized his dog was covered in blood.

"Casper! Are you alright?" He searched the dog's fur, parting it down to the skin to check for injuries. Seeing none, he looked around for the corpse of a smaller animal, figuring something got too close to the canine. He heard Casper start to rumble deep in his chest. He turned to his dog, and started to untie the leash when he noticed something odd about his mouth. As Casper growled, his lips parted, revealing glistening spikes, the same ones as the fangs Fake Bodhi displayed back in the brush. Bodhi jumped back and stumbled on his backside. He didn't know what to do, but untying the dog seemed like a bad idea.

Hearing rustling in the brush, he got up and started to run. He headed in the direction of his farmhouse, mentally running down a list of potential weapons. He reached his garden shed just as the sun set and flung the door open, thanking the stars that he didn't lock it earlier. He honed in on a pitchfork, and grabbed a hacksaw, too. Bodhi wasn't sure if this Fake Bodhi could even be killed by either tool, but he felt a little better being armed.

He left the shed unlocked and went to his house, closing and securing every door and window in the building. He sat in the kitchen looking out his big picture window. During the day, it was a glorious view of the forest and all the sweet creatures that came through his yard. Now, it was a lookout for people-duplicating monsters. He really wished Casper was here.

He sat facing the window, watching the tree line for what seemed like hours. He was starting to get tired, but knew he'd never be able to sleep safely. He decided he would hit a hotel for the night and deal with... whatever this thing was in the morning.

He jogged up the stairs two at a time, flicking on every light he went past. He hastily packed an overnight bag and grabbed his cell phone charger. He ran back down the stairs two at a time through the foyer and to the front door. Flinging the door open, he started patting his pockets for his car keys.

He heard the familiar jingling of his keyring.

Coming from the porch.

He raised his eyes and met the glare of Fake Bodhi. His gnarly smile spread across his whole face as he dangled the keys to the car.

Bodhi's gardening weapons were still in the kitchen. His heart was thudding as he tried to plan an escape. He was about to turn back to the kitchen when -

C R O N C H

Fake Bodhi had opened his mouth unnaturally wide and chomped down on Bodhi's head. Eyes rolling in delirium, the creature devoured our hero in less than 5 bites. Wiping his mouth, he heard a snarl from behind him. He turned to see Fake Casper, free from his tether and standing in the doorway, ready to follow his new master. Pocketing the car keys, Fake Bodhi walked to the door and scratched his canine on the ears. The gruesome pair then stepped off the porch and disappeared back into the night.

The End.

---

I read the last paragraph a second time. "He ATE Bodhi? Why would this ghost appear out of nowhere to type this story?" Then it dawned on me. The specter in my chair had a brown bun piled neatly at the nape of his neck. I felt a cold chill go through me like knives.

".. Bodhi?" I whispered, not really hoping for an answer.

I heard a creak. My back to the computer, I stared at the open doorway. My heart was in my throat. I took shallow breaths, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

I felt its presence before I actually saw it. It was a sense of dread, followed by a nauseating rush of adrenaline. My skin was crawling and my eyes watered as a foul stench reached my nose. The figure stepped out from the shadows of my kitchen and skulked into the room where I was cowering. It was the first good look I got at Bodhi. Or the thing pretending to be Bodhi, anyway. He would have been boyishly handsome if he were human, a young man of about 30, with a kempt brown beard the same color as his hair. He had on a rock band t-shirt, torn and stained with blood from Real Bodhi and probably others. His khaki shorts were in a similar state; a pocket had been torn off and there were several dark unidentifiable smears. He was even missing a shoe. Graying skin and hideous teeth completed the look. It cocked its head to the side, studying me.

Up until this very moment I had no idea what this thing was. All of my paranormal and horror research for my book came flooding back as soon as it appeared. Shapeshifter.

I swear I heard it chuckle as if affirming my fears. I was clearly no match for an otherworldly immortal. I had no weapons in my writing room, let alone my house. I inched backwards slowly, never taking my eyes off Fake Bodhi. My fingers fumbled around until they found the windowsill. I wiggled my fingertips underneath and pushed gently until the window went up an inch. Fake Bodhi squinted and snarled. I didn't want to turn my back, but I had no other escape. I took a deep breath, said a quick prayer and turned around.

I lifted the window as fast as I could, while simultaneously sticking my leg out to jump. I was straddling the sill, one leg out and the other swinging to join it when I felt a clamp around my ankle. I felt the pressure first, then searing pain as teeth tore through my lower leg. Thrown by the momentum of leaning out the window, I let go of the sill and tried to keep falling, but I was caught like a rabbit in a snare.

I dared to look up and realized Fake Bodhi was not the one gnawing on me, but Fake Casper. I strained to lift my other leg and kicked the hellhound in the face as hard as I could. Over and over until I felt the jaws release and I plunged 10 feet to the shrubs below. One leg useless, I struggled to stand in the mud. I screamed for help, but no one could hear me over the storm raging outside. I dared a glance to the window and saw no sign of either demon. Dragging my bad leg, I hopped towards the road, hoping to flag a passing car.

After a few seconds, headlights beamed in the distance. I had a sliver of hope that I would make it out of here. I hopped on one leg, flailing and screaming for help when I felt a car hit me from behind.

No, not a car.

Fake Bodhi.

The skinwalker had tackled me to the pavement just in time to hide me from the headlights. In the nighttime rain, the car drove right by, oblivious to my end of life.

As I lay on the ground helpless, I could hear Fake Casper running towards us. I felt each of them bite a flank, white hot pain flashing through every nerve in my body. I started to go into shock. As the demons feasted, I saw sweet Bodhi standing off to the side. Noises of crunching and squishing began to fade as Bodhi reached his hand out to me. I felt no pain. His hand was surprisingly warm for a ghost, but, then again, I was a ghost now, too.

He helped me to my feet and whistled for Casper, who came bounding towards us, tail wagging, ready for a nightly walk. We turned from the carnage and began walking in silence. I had no idea where we were going, but I figured it didn't matter.

I smiled forlornly at my new eternal family, feeling disheartened for what might have been if not for that damned candle in the window.