Chapter Twenty-Five

When he opened his eyes, no fright came to his senses – and that worried Rick. He found that he was lying on his couch in his living room – the television whispering some daytime talk show. Rick blinked his eyes several times and then let a yawn escape his mouth. He placed his arms behind his head and stretched his entire body. Even his leg looked as if it had never been injured.

There were no Dreamkillers ready to attack him. Orion did not stand over him while he rested in sleep. In fact, there was nothing to be afraid of.

* * *

When Tracy had fully come to her senses, it felt as if a lifetime had passed, and she opened her eyes. She was numb with confusion as she looked around the room without moving her head and was shocked to find that she was lying on a table. She rolled her eyes up to the white ceiling and realized that she was back at the hospital.

Tracy moved her head to the left and her eyes met those of her father. Every emotion burst forth from her insides, but mostly that she was very sorry for taking her own life just after he lost Laura. And she was beyond excited to see his warm green eyes which looked down at her.

And then she saw Bolan, standing to her father’s left side. He had his hand on Paul’s shoulder. “She’s gone, Paul. I’m sorry,” he said and Paul burst into tears as Bolan patted him on his back for what comfort he could give.

“What?” Tracy screamed and her voice reached no one. “I’m here, Daddy! Hear me, I’m alive!”

* * *

`A noise from the other room caused Rick to jump off the couch to a fully alert mind. He balled his hands into fists and watched a shadow appear from the front foyer. Then he heard the footsteps of someone heading into the house.

And then he saw him. Rick let out a large sigh of relief and dropped back onto the couch when he saw his father walk into the living room. Then Rick saw a look in his father’s eyes – an irate look.

Rick looked down and saw that his father was holding a piece of paper in his right hand and began to wave it in his son’s direction. “Would you mind explaining this to me, Boy?”

Rick threw his father a questioning look and grabbed the paper from his father’s hold. He opened it up, read what was written, and then felt his legs give out from under his weight and he fell onto the couch once again.

“How the hell could you get a D in Math and an F in Chemistry?” his father was screaming at him by this point. “Goddamnit, Boy. You’re no smarter than the average dog turd.”

Rick watched his father pace back and forth with a fierceness he had never seen before in his life – and this worried him a great deal. What was his father going to do to him?

* * *

Bolan reached over Tracy’s head and pulled down a white sheet over her face and, with Paul, they exited the room.

When she heard the door close, “What the hell’s going on?” she asked and a sigh escaped her nostrils.

She stood up off the table and walked over to the door Bolan and her father had just walked through and then glanced back at the room once again. Her eyes widened and she felt as if she may pass out as she stared at the body of Tracy Kingston who was still lying on the table.

“What the hell?” she whispered and saw that Tracy lying on the table looked very much deceased.

A chill ran down her back as she let her mind run wild. She quickly turned around and reached out for the doorknob with her hand. To her surprise, her hand passed directly through the doorknob. Tracy chuckled and couldn’t help but to smile. “I’m a ghost,” she whispered in disbelief.

* * *

Rick’s father had left the room, only to return several minutes later carrying a suitcase. He dropped it at his son’s feet and when Rick looked into his father’s eyes, he thought Mt. St. Helens was nothing compared to this.

“What are you doing?” Rick dared to ask – his nerves were causing his body to shake.

“Me?” his father grinned. “I’m not doing anything – you are. You’re moving out of my house.”

Rick looked at his father with fear in his eyes. He didn’t have anywhere to go – his mother lived somewhere in South Carolina, he had no idea where. “You…you can’t do that,” he protested. “You can’t kick me out – I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Rick’s father gave his son a small grunt and shook his head. “That does not concern me.” Rick’s fear was ever increasing. “You have two minutes to get the hell out of my house before I call the cops.”

All Rick could do was stand there, staring at his enraged father as all the love they had for each other left the air.

* * *

She followed the hushed voices that led her down the corridor to a closed door to her right near the end. She listened to her father and Bolan talking before popping her head in on the conversation. There, she found the two men sitting in a conference room no larger in size than an average bedroom. Bolan held a lit cigar and Paul held a cup of coffee.

Stolen story; please report.

“Why’d she do it, damnit?” Paul exclaimed as anger finally exploded from his soul.

Bolan shrugged and poured himself another cup of brandy. “I don’t know, Paul. Maybe because she was depressed. Her friends and sister just died,” he replied with absolutely no feeling behind his words. When he looked at Paul, Paul detected a familiar look in his eyes.

At least they fell for it; Tracy smiled to herself as she watched the conversation. Now she wished that she could reach out and touch her father – to tell him that she was here with him.

Paul lifted a finger at Bolan and leaned over the table. “Don’t you even think about it. She’s dead, yes, and she will be buried with her proper name,” he almost shouted and stood up. He didn’t wait for a protest; instead he walked right through his daughter and out the conference room.

Tracy quickly turned and followed her father, who stopped walking when he came to the same room that they had recently abandoned. She watched as he looked through the window at the body lying on the table with a white shroud covering its body.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I didn’t know,” he whispered as tears fell from his blood-shot eyes. He lowered his head and said a silent prayer before turning and walking the remainder of the corridor and entered an awaiting elevator.

Tracy did not follow any further; instead she hung her head down in sorrow and burst into tears of her own. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered.

* * *

“No.”

Rick’s father gawked at his son – he could not believe what he was hearing. “Are you refusing to do as told?” Rick saw that his left eye had twitched.

Rick took a deep inhale and slowly let it out as he stood with his chest out. “Yes. You have no right to make me leave.” This defiance brought his father to hysterics.

When he finished laughing, his father put forth a grin and pulled out a gun from inside one of his pockets. He pointed it at his son’s chest and moved closer to him. “Are you so sure about that?”

They stared at one another for a moment and then it was Rick who made the first move. He brought up his left arm and pushed the gun to one side and then brought his right fist to his father’s nose. The instantaneous movement was all Rick needed to gain the upper hand.

His father stumbled to the floor, dropping the pistol, and cradled his nose in both hands as his blood began running through his fingers. Rick sprinted over and picked up the pistol and pointed it at his father, who began laughing despite the pain he was in. “What’re you going to do? Shoot your old man?”

Rick looked down at his father and grinned. “Only if you make me,” he said and turned his back on him and headed for the door.

He stopped in the center of the living room and looked around with a sigh. “You know,” he looked back at his father, whose shirt was now bloodied. “You are not my father and this is not my home. This is my hell,” he said and then opened the front door and walked through without looking back any more.

* * *

Tracy watched silently as her father, mother, and Herb – why the hell did he come anyway; he never liked me – listened to the minister giving words of solace with the Holy Bible in his grasp while standing around the casket made for Tracy.

“Kurihur claims priests bring people to believe by traditions and dreams, that they should offend some unknown being. The wicked remain as though there had been no redemption, except for loosing of hands of death,” the minister droned on.

“All shall rise from the dead. Mortal body is raised to an immortal body,” he said, and then one final paraphrase, “Ye shall have hope through Christ’s atonement and resurrection to be raised unto life eternal; 10:34. I soon go to rest in hell of the Dreamkillers until my spirit and body shall again reunite,” he spat out with a devilish tone as Paul looked at him in disgust.

He then turned his head and looked at the casket which slowly opened and he watched in horror as Tracy sat up and smiled as she turned and looked at her father. Her body had not rotted yet, but as she sat up, every one of her bones cracked and snapped from rigor mortis. She looked at him behind a seductive smile. “Come with me, Daddy. I’ve lots to show you,” she moaned with death behind each syllable.

“No! Get away from me!” Paul screamed and stumbled onto the ground. “Go back to whatever hell you came from!”

It was Leslie who helped Paul to his feet once again. But to his horror, she was ushering him toward Tracy instead of moving back. “Go with her.” she hissed in Paul’s ear as they came closer to Tracy’s waiting arms.

Paul screamed. “God! Help me!” He could not believe the strength that his ex-wife had against him.

“We are helping you,” Tracy moaned as she licked her blackened lips and reached out to him. She grabbed hold of his hair and pulled him hard to her and he fell into her arms.

He looked into her black eyes and saw what death was. He saw the spiraling black clouds spinning in her eyes. He saw the Reaper’s scythe searing through the air. He felt the Reaper’s scythe sear through the back of his neck and oddly felt his head fall into the lap of his devil’s daughter.

“Get off my father, Bitch!”

She looked up and saw her mirror image standing next to a giant tombstone in the shape of a cross. At her hip, she held the dagger ready for bloodshed.

“You’re too late,” replied the black-eyed Tracy as she reached down and picked up something and then tossed it over to Tracy.

She looked down and then became sickened as she looked into the eyes of her father as his head rolled to a stop at her heel. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Once she regained her composure she opened her eyes and lifted the dagger, but before she could strike at the demon, it had already closed the casket lid and lowered itself into the ground.

Tracy looked around and found that she was all alone. No one else was with her, save for her father’s decapitated head, in this silent cemetery. Her dread had always been the feeling of being left alone. She lowered her head and decided to walk around and find some way out of this hell.

Just as she neared another giant tombstone, she heard breathing from the other side and lifted the dagger up above her shoulder. When she came to the corner of the tombstone, she brought the dagger down, but her fist was caught by a strong hand.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Rick called to the frightened Tracy.

Tracy felt her legs give out and she began to fall; he reached out and grabbed her before she hit the ground. She looked up into Rick’s calm eyes and knew that this was no trick of Orion’s. She knew that Rick had, somehow, found his way back to her. “Where were you?”

Rick helped her to her feet and looked away with a shrug. “I’d like to not talk about it,” he replied and she gave a look that he had never seen before. She needed to hear his story. It would help her make sense out of all this chaos. “I was at my house fighting with my dad. He tried to kick me out because I got bad grades and then he pulled out a gun and I punched the son of a bitch, took the gun, and left the house,” he explained.

Tracy looked around. “How’d you find me?” she asked. None of this made any sense to her. How could he find her, but she could not find him?

“By your scent and your voice,” he answered and he began to elaborate, “I picked up on the scent of your perfume and followed it to here,” he smiled.

Tracy listened with a grin. She knew there would be time later to mourn her father – this was not that time. When Rick concluded his explanation, he leaned his back against the tombstone.

He did not have much time to relax his body; a moment later, he felt a jolt and then both he and the tombstone fell to the ground with a hard thud. Tracy was at Rick’s side in seconds and she helped him back to his feet – Rick’s foot had returned back to its mangled and damaged self – and they looked down and saw that a flight of stairs awaited them from below the tombstone.

Rick turned from the stone steps and looked at Tracy. “You know, we killed ourselves for one reason: to kill Orion.” She nodded in agreement. “Let’s get it over with. I want to live again,” he said and she smiled at him.

“Me, too,” she said and grabbed Rick’s hand. Their eyes locked with one another’s. “I love you, Rick. You’ve been with me through everything.” With that, she pulled him to her and embraced him tightly.

They held one another for several seconds before Rick broke them apart. “We need to go,” he suggested and she agreed.

Together, they descended the steps that led to a doorway which lay open with a hue of fire emitting from within.