9pm - ?

According to the invitation, 9pm was the official start time of Dave and Sally's annual Halloween party. However, Ben immediately felt foolish for arriving right on time when Dave answered the door wearing plain jeans and a t-shirt. He looked at Ben, confused.

"Oh. Hey, Ben. Wow, I didn't think people would start showing up until around ten or so."

"I guess I'm a little early," Ben muttered. Dave's porch was still dark, but Ben had thought it was a part of the decor. Now he realized that 9pm meant...well, not 9pm. "So, uh. Need any help setting up?"

"Nah, it's cool. Come on in. Sally's still getting ready and I haven't even started." As he led Ben into his living room, Dave could better see Ben's homemade costume, which included a Medieval-looking tunic with red markings. Dave studied it for two seconds before asking, "What are you supposed to be anyway, some sorta Star Wars thing?"

"Nope. Not even close," Ben replied. "I have a prize for whoever guesses it correctly." He patted a leather satchel that was strapped to his belt.

As the couple finished getting ready upstairs, Ben sat in the living room, sipping on pumpkin ale and watching some horror movie scenes that someone had edited together. He didn't know most of the films, but the visuals went well with the spooky ambient music playing over it.

Eventually, other guests started arriving. Dave and Sally's small house and backyard was soon filled with brooding vampires, sexy witches, and movie monsters galore. Sally instructed all zombies to keep their fake dirt and blood off of her furniture. There were also a few guests in pun-related costumes, as well as the expected assortment of cultural references from the year.

"My roommate is Wander Woman, like, as in 'wandering the desert', and I'm Molasses Cat," a fur-clad girl informed Ben as she held up an emptied mason jar that was affixed to her hand. Ben nodded and decided he would need stronger inebriation than pumpkin ale could offer. He excused himself to get some hunch punch, Sally's diabolical specialty, from the back porch. That's where he met Kimberly.

"I know who you are," she said from behind him. Ben turned toward her voice and almost spilled hunch punch on himself. Even through her creepy banshee costume, he could tell that she was the most beautiful girl at the party, maybe any party ever.

"Really?" he said. "That can't be possible. I'd remember you." He was smiling, but completely serious and beyond confused.

"No," Kimberly said, laughing. "I know who you're dressed as. You're Darek Alger from the Signal Dagger series."

Ben was taken aback. "You know the Signal Dagger books?"

"Please. I practically turned my whole dorm onto them back in college."

"That's awesome. And impressive. The only think I turned my dorm onto was the idea to wear shower shoes in the bathroom."

She smiled and Ben took a deep sip of hunch punch. As the night and party progressed, they continued talking and flirting. Ben looked around and saw Dave, now dressed as a hippie, pull his peace symbol sunglasses down to wink at him. He walked by Ben and joked, "Don't worry, buddy. I'm sure you'll find a pretty girl somewhere around here." Ben blushed and smiled at Kimberly, who smiled back.

There were plenty of other guests, but Ben and Kimberly might as well have been alone together. They only wanted to talk to each other and ignored the other guests, except when the conversation would lull a bit and they needed something to joke about.

"What about this guy?" Ben said, gesturing toward a large man in a plaid shirt and wool cap who was double-fisting hunch punch and a beer. He had tucked a plastic chainsaw under one of his arms as he loudly talked to a girl dressed as Snow White about the Denver Broncos. "He gets my vote for drunkest lumberjack I've seen all week."

"Yeah," Kimberly said, giggling as she shot off, "Someone should be around to yell 'timber' when he goes down."

Eventually, the party got quieter as guests began to filter out. Sally had begun blowing out candles and turning on some normal lights. Dave had taken his hippie costume to heart and was smoking a joint with a small group of friends in the backyard. Ben knew that meant Dave would be kicking people out soon so that he could go to bed.

"I guess we've hit 'question mark', huh?" Ben said to Kimberly.

"Question mark?" she asked.

"Like on the invitation."

"Oh, right." Kimberly nodded and looked around Dave and Sally's empty living room. "Wow, I can't remember the last time I stayed up till question mark."

"Well, can I walk you to your car?"

"I actually grabbed a ride here with friends."

"Oh, okay..." Ben said. He looked around.

"They're gone."

"They left you? That sucks."

"Yeah. You know, it kinda does."

"I mean," Ben started with a mock grim expression. "Don't they realize that banshees are legendary for getting revenge?"

"You're right," Kimberly said, a smile spreading across her face. "I guess they decided to risk it."

"Well, I could...you know, give you a lift home," Ben said, hoping to sound more helpful than lecherous.

"That'd be great!" Kimberly said, nearly jumping in excitement.

They left without even thinking to say goodbye to their hosts. The few remaining guests exited soon after Ben and Kimberly had gone.

After ushering out the last of them, Sally turned the porch light off. Dave stood in the living room, visibly high and barely standing. Sally was no more sober than he was, but she handled it better.

"Something about tie-dye and bell bottoms turns you into an idiot every time you wear them," Sally said as she downed the last of her punch and walked toward the kitchen.

"C'mon, I thought all you vampires loved hippies." Dave wrapped his arms around Sally's waist. "We taste like pot and junk food."

"Whatever. You should go as a caveman next year. It's an evolutionary step up from a hippie." She smirked and gave Dave a kiss, then looked around. "God, this place is a mess."

Dave dragged the garbage can into the living room and began tossing in empty cups and bottles. Sally plucked a red scarf that she had draped over a lampshade and switched off the light.

"Hey, what was with your weird friend?" Sally asked.

"Ben? Yeah, I don't know."

"He was just standing off to the side by himself, talking to nobody."

"Maybe it was part of his costume." Dave sat on the couch and turned on the TV. "Game of Thrones?"

"Okay." Still dressed in her red cape and tight black dress, Sally cuddled next to Dave on the couch and put her head on his shoulder. "Well, I think Ben is one creepy guy."

"I know. I hoped he would be more social and maybe meet a girl or something. I really don't get him." He hit play on the HBO Go menu.

Sally yawned. "Okay, just one episode and then bedtime," she said.

A few miles away, Ben drove up to Kimberly's apartment. They had talked and laughed most of the ride to her neighborhood, but had gotten quiet as they neared the end of the ride. Ben was unsure if he should turn off the car or if he was just dropping Kimberly off. He pulled up to her curb and let the car idle. He started to say something, but Kimberly cut him off.

"I'm glad you're not presumptuous," she said. "However, I'm totally going to ask you to come in. I mean, if you want."

"Yeah, yeah," Ben said. "I mean...yeah." He smiled crookedly and shook his head. Kimberly laughed.

Kimberly's apartment was on the second floor. They both giggled as they climbed the stairs, trying - and failing - to be quiet. Kimberly opened her door and let Ben in. Before she could even turn on a light, he leaned in to kiss her. She backed away.

"Hold on," she said. "Let me put some music on or something. Do you want a drink?"

"No, I'm good," he said, his eyes still adjusting to the dark room.

"Okay," she said. And then softly, she leaned in and whispered, "Hey, Ben. Do you want to see my body?"

A rush of heat leaped to his face. "Um, yeah. Sure."

Through the faint light coming in through the windows, Ben could barely see Kimberly. But he could see that she was smiling.

"Give me one minute," she said. She disappeared into a hallway. Nervous excitement flooded over Ben. He heard her voice one more time. "Hey, could you get the light?"

"Sure," Ben called to her. He turned to find the switch and then remembered. "Oh, hey - I almost forgot! I have something for you. A prize for guessing my costume."

Ben reached into the leather satchel on his belt and pulled out a glass key with "S.D." engraved on it, a trinket from the Signal Dagger books. It felt like a piece of it had broken off.

"Oh, c'mon," he muttered to himself.

He grazed his hand across the wall and found the light switch. When he turned and saw the illuminated room, Ben's heart dropped into his stomach and the glass key fell to the floor.

The apartment looked like it had been ransacked. Furniture was overturned. Torn books and broken dishes littered the floor. Kimberly's picture frames had been ripped from the walls and smashed. Her television was lying face down in front of a coffee table, which was littered with cigarette butts and food so rotted that Ben couldn't tell what it had once been.

"Oh, my god," he said. The smell had finally registered, a disgustingly stale odor of ash and decay. "Kimberly? I think somebody broke in."

He waited for a response. Nothing.

"Kimberly? Are you alright?"

Nothing. Then fear arose, hitting him in the gut. Maybe whoever had wrecked the place was still in the apartment.

"Kimberly, we need to get out of here!"

Ben stood there, dumbly. Something was obviously wrong, but he was afraid to go look for her. He looked at the door behind him. Black and dark brown smudges covered it, but Ben didn't really see the filth. He just saw a way out. His feet felt like they were glued to the floor. He couldn't leave. He had to find Kimberly. She was... Well, she was...

Gone. Ben closed his eyes. He knew where Kimberly was. There wasn't an intruder. Whatever had happened in this apartment had happened weeks, maybe months ago. Slowly, he turned toward the dismantled room and walked down the shadowy hallway. From the light in the living room he could only register more filth, more chaos along the walls and on the floor. There was a door at the end of the hallway. He slowly opened it and walked into Kimberly's bedroom.

There she was. His posture slumped, but Ben wasn't surprised to find that he didn't have the energy to yell out or even gasp. Kimberly's dead body was on the bed. Much of the skin on her face had been rotted off to reveal sections of skull underneath. Her clothes looked to be covered in mold, spread there from her decaying body.

Ben wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He saw several pill bottles on the bed next to her and on the nightstand. The story was becoming clearer, but he didn't know why she had come to him. Nothing in the room would answer that. Kimberly's head was tilted toward him, staring with two empty eye sockets. Her cheekbones jutted out from around her distended jaw. To Ben, it looked like she was smiling at him.

"Happy Halloween," he said to her, just before losing consciousness.

Glowstone Point

Andrew found nothing enjoyable about camping, but he decided he'd do it once more for Lyla. Making Lyla happy was in his best interest, so he packed up the Civic and drove the 200 miles from St. Louis to Shades State Park in Indiana, determined to set up camp in Glowstone Point for one night. It had taken weeks of begging for Lyla to convince him to make the trek, but he honestly felt no better for relenting.

Andrew turned the Civic into the northernmost parking lot at Shades and winced as the park's entrance came into view. It was an involuntary reaction that he hoped Lyla didn't notice. He really wanted to push Lyla out of the car and jet all 200 miles back home, but he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he did. The dashboard display showed 55 degrees outside now, during what would probably be the warmest part of the day. Lyla grabbed his hand and squeezed. Andrew smiled faintly.

No reason to put this off, he thought. He grabbed his gear from the backseat, a backpack with enough supplies to get through one night, and headed toward the forest that Lyla had already entered, waiting for him to catch up to her.

Glowstone Point was about a mile away from the parking lot, but Andrew still knew the fastest way to reach it. Taking the left side trail through the forest, he and Lyla soon arrived at the wooden staircases, which winded down three landings until Andrew reached the park's low ground, Pearl Ravine. Lyla began to get ahead of him, practically running toward Sugar Creek. Soon she was out of his sight and he was relieved to relax the expression on his face.

Looking around as he trudged through the woods, he longed for music or an audio book, some external distraction. However, Andrew immediately reminded himself that despite the mind-numbing, repetitive display of trees, grass, and dirt, he was there to immerse himself in reflection. Anyway, he knew what he'd hear if he tried.

He heard Lyla giggling above him and he saw that she had found her way to the top of the ravine. He tried to match her enthusiasm for nature, but never could. Sure, there were more important things in a relationship, but Andrew wished he was the type that looked forward to walking in the woods instead of wondering how the Cardinals were playing or who'd be hanging out at Good Luck Bar that night.

As he continued walking through the ravine, Andrew realized that he was whistling a familiar song, "Sour Times" by Portishead, one of Lyla's favorites. Andrew quickly stopped and thrust his cold hands into his pockets. Soon after, the ravine flattened out and he could hear the creek flowing ahead of him.

Sugar Creek ran along the northern border of Shades and served as a boundary. The park asked that people not camp past its rushing waters, but many people did. Lyla and Andrew had themselves broken the rule twelve years earlier, and now Andrew would break it once more. As he reached the shore, Andrew looked across the creek to Canoe Island where Lyla Glowstone, or perhaps the thing that looked like Lyla Glowstone, stood smiling and waiting to lead Andrew north of the creek, up to the campsite that was named in her memory.

Night Walk

Drew always suspected that he would see the Mid-air Ghost again, but he didn't think it would be so soon after their first meeting. The first time was during Drew's one and only time skydiving. He initially thought the ghost, which hovered nearby during free fall and vanished shortly after the parachute deployed, was some amazing illusion projected from the airfield until the tandem instructor later confirmed the sighting.

"Did you freakin' see that?" barrel-chested Bailey exclaimed once they were on solid earth again. "It was like a real life ghost, man!" He continued to alternate between wild laughter and saying "I mean...I mean," shaking his head nonstop as he undid the safety harness that connected him to Drew. They were connected in another way after that, so they exchanged phone numbers.

For his own part, Drew never quite felt like himself after the sky encounter. He would oftentimes stop whatever he was doing and look up to see if the sky held any more ghosts, ones that could be seen from the ground.

The second time Drew saw the Mid-air Ghost, it was only a few months later, during one of his night walks on Trower Avenue. This time it appeared to be standing firmly on the ground, causing Drew to think that he might need to reconsider his name for it. He was sure the ghost was the same, however - there was no mistaking its raincloud skin and beckoning arms. Drew stopped a few feet shy of meeting it directly.

"What do you want?" Drew directed toward the ghost's midnight sea foam face. He realized then that Trower Avenue was empty in a way that it usually wasn't. Even the homeless people who camped in concrete nooks along the buildings seemed to be away on vacation. Dawn was near, but no cars passed by them, and the streetlight on the next block blinked red for no one in particular.

"I want to grant you a wish." the Mid-air Ghost said. Its raspy voice didn't come from the ghost itself, but seemed to be trapped in Drew's skull, like a firefly captured in a mason jar.

A wish. Drew considered his options as he tried to not shiver. In the months since the skydiving incident, he had begun waking up mid-slumber with horrible panic attacks, jumping out of bed drenched in cold sweats. Each time he would feel as though the wind were pushed out of his lungs. Then the free fall would start all over again and, for several seconds, Drew would feel as though he were plummeting through the sky, only this time with no Earth to return to. Once the sensation passed, he would usually find himself on his bedroom floor, wide awake.

The first dozen or so times it happened, Drew called Bailey to help calm him down. However, Bailey didn't seem to have the same alarming side effect, and would often sound exhausted during these calls. And then, after a few patient minutes, his voice would become annoyed. Drew took the hint and looked for other means to cope. One night, he walked outside and felt a little better. Through this, he found out that walking up and down Trower Avenue after an episode was the closest thing to a cure that he could muster. Sometimes, he was even able to get back to sleep before sunrise.

But during his second meeting with the nightmarish thing - in his comfort zone, no less - he was frightened to think that the Mid-air Ghost had taken the cure away from him.

"Whatever happens," Drew finally said. "I need to be able to walk it off. Completely."

An oily, flickering rainbow invaded the ghost's ethereal skin, shimmering like crow feathers.

"Walk it off," the Mid-air Ghost repeated from inside Drew's head.

"Yeah, I need to be able to deal with whatever is bothering me by just taking a walk. Day or night. That's my wish."

Without getting any closer, the ghost reached out and Drew felt something like a cool blanket of fog surround his feet, like a thick dry ice smoke pressing around the joints in his ankles. There was a slight jolt that pulsed through his legs and then Drew felt very still.

The ghost rose into the dark early morning sky and disappeared.

Drew stood there for a moment, looking up. It occurred to him that a ghost whose home was somewhere in the sky might be confused by his wish, maybe even a little pissed off. What would the Mid-air Ghost ever need to walk off? Drew had plenty.

He began walking again and instantly felt better with each step. Several cars passed by and the world seemed normal again, the Earth firm beneath Drew's footsteps. After a few blocks, he took out his phone to let Bailey know that he might be getting another visit from their ghost, if he hadn't already, but then Drew decided to get an early breakfast instead. He had a feeling that he would need the energy.