I'm thinking with certain chapters, I may have to split them up into parts, rather than posting the whole thing. The other chapters were relatively small, but the upcoming ones are getting pretty big in page numbers.
And please, please, please, comment on what you thought. Even if you didn't like it, I'd still like to know what you liked and didn't like (as long as you're not a troll about it.) I realize that some people are mainly into serious, horror paranormal books, but the Afterlife Chronicles is more of a fantasy/comedy/adventure. It clearly stays true to the nature of Scared Sheetless, so if you enjoy what you see on this site, I'm sure you will enjoy the book. But please take a moment and tell me what you thought, whether its on here or on my Facebook.
For those who haven't read the previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
-----
Chapter 4
The Relick's
"You've been
kicked out of the Afterlife."
"If you wish to
stay you will have to say 'sorry'."
"NEVER!"
Rigor yells in triumphant as he puts out his arms and a blue burst of energy
comes out of his hands, hits a cabinet and destroys it. He looks at it for a
second and smirks.
"I still got
it."
He then looks and sees
the letter that Ole gave him earlier, crumpled up on a table with the words, Eviction
on it. He shakes his head.
"Evicted from the
Afterlife? Where are they going to send me? New Jersey? Better get the spray-on
tan, I'm looking a little pale."
He has a change of
heart.
"Wait, wait,
wait. I don't need to follow orders from a bunch of politicians. I'm above the
law. I can choose anywhere I want to go. But where can I go? Wait! I got it! I
know someone who will take me in." Rigor pauses. “On second thought,
nobody will take me in. I’ll just break in."
Rigor begins looking
through the random papers around his house, then stands up, rapidly raises his
arms and everything in the room rises to the ceiling. He looks up, searching,
lets out an “ah!” and flies up, grabbing what looks like a yearbook.
"I had a ton of
friends at Poltergeist Academy who'd love to catch up on some old times with
their favorite ghost. Hopefully some chicks." He looks through the Ladies
Dorm section and skims through the name-captioned headshots. "Nope.
Restraining order. She cursed me a few times. Nun. Ectoplasm change ... gross.
Damn, no likely ladies."
He turns to the “High
Honors” pages and continues to skim. Among the collection of dorky characters,
prominent figures and downright foully snooty ghosts, there is one skeleton.
Just one. His name on the golden bar is "Jack Relick."
Rigor smiles, snaps his fingers, and vanishes.
Jack Relick
In another dimension,
far away from the reaches of Earth or The Afterlife, is a land called Hollow
Hill. A place where creatures of the darkest corners lurk, but live in peace
and harmony. Where vampires and werewolves share a meal rather than trying to
bite each other’s necks off. Where zombies and ghosts share cemeteries rather
than having territory wars. The picture is quite clear, when you’re here, you
are no longer in Kansas, Pittsburgh, or Timbuktu. Or the Afterlife.
Inside Hollow Hill is
where the King of this land lives. Jack Relick. He is a great king; everyone
loves him. All women adore him, especially his loving soul mate and his
daughter. All the men, young and elder alike, want to be in his presence. More
notably, he is also known as a weird king, because he spends a lot of his time
in a lab doing strange experiments. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill king.
Jack holds a lab glass
up to his face. And what a face. Before Jack died, he was burned to the stake
during the Salem Witch Trials. At the moment he died, some of his skin still
remained but where it was burnt off, bone was exposed. He only has one
functioning eye and a fake eye is in the other socket. He thinks of himself as
a human/skeleton hybrid because of his body features.
During his spare time being a King to his adoring
denizens, Jack is also a well-known scientist. He spends countless hours
working on new experiments, new cure methods for his people’s ailments, and on
this particular day he is working on making bugs talk. He has always been
fascinated by the possibilities of what people could learn from animals and
insects if only they could talk. The liquid he is looking at has a green tinge.
He adds a blood-red fluid, and the resulting concoction turns entirely clear.
He turns to his trusty ghost dog, Seven, who is lying on the floor next to
him.
"Seven, I am
close to making these bugs talk. Just think of what we can learn from
them." His speech has a tang of Irish, but even more New England twang.
One of the ugly bugs
screeches as Seven looks up at Jack. In the next sound it makes there is a hint
of a possible word.
"Jack. Oh, Jack.
Hey bonehead!"
Jack looks down at the
bug on the table. He tilts his head back curiously. Sure, weird things do
happen in Hollow Hill just like anywhere else and sometimes like nowhere else,
but most bugs do not talk. Yet.
"You can
talk?"
The bug suavely lifts
his buggy eyebrows up and down and looks back at Jack.
"Yeah. Of course
I can talk."
"My experiment
worked then!" He puts up his fists in triumph.
"No, it’s
me!"
Jack lowers his arms,
the triumphant look on his slightly skeletal face melting away.
"Wait a minute.
That voice sounds familiar. Rigor? Oh no, I can’t let you in. I got a family
now."
Rigor sheds his bug
form, and morphs into an equally tiny human version of himself.
"Why not!? Is
your wife hot? C’mon man, I need a place to crash … err, I mean stay,” he says,
not wanting Jack to know he was kicked out of the Afterlife. If Jack knew, he
probably wouldn’t let Rigor stay.
But Jack is not
stupid. "Did you get kicked out of the Afterlife … again?” he asks.
Rigor scratches the back of his head.
"Come on. Out with it." Jack says.
"Um, I came here
for a visit! You know it’s been well over a hundred years since I last saw
you."
"You know, you
could of wrote."
"I'm a righty
with two lefties." Rigor tries a lame excuse to explain why he hasn’t
written to his best friend.
Jack rolls his
one eye and shakes his head.
"Jack, please. Just for a little while."
"I would, but the
thing is, Hollow Hill denizens hold a lot of things against The Afterlife and
its inhabits. You would be viewed as a liability. I can't deal with that right
now. We just had a locust invasion. They weren't as troublesome as you are
though."
"Really?"
Rigor grins.
"Figured you'd
take that as a compliment. But no, you here? Bad idea.”
"What do you
mean? I’m practically a ghost legend!"
"Regardless …”
"A week?…Two
weeks?…" Rigor's voice gives away his desperation.
Jack is almost tempted to reconsider, when Rigor goes
on.
"… A month?"
"A month!? You
DID get kicked out of the Afterlife."
"Alright, fine! I
did get kicked out and this time they mean it, but it wasn‘t my fault!"
Jack chuckles.
"Yeah, Rigor, I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that before."
But Rigor is serious.
"They want me to say the ‘s’ word, Jack."
"Shower?"
Rigor gives him a stern look. "Because, you know, in the years I’ve known
you, you could use one."
"You know better
than that.”
"Then what?"
Rigor turns pale and
moves closer to Jack, who lowers himself in front of Rigor.
"They want me to
say, so...suururrr..."
"What? Tell
me."
"They want me to
say...sarower."
"You're not
making much sense. Come to think of it, that's pretty much the norm for
you."
"Okay, fine. I'll
spell it out. S.A.W.R.E!" He even spells it out with his arms like he's
doing "YMCA".
Jack lips it out Rigor’s
attempt at spelling the word. "Oh, you mean 'sorry!'"
Rigor snaps his
fingers. "Yes!"
"Just go ahead
and tell them then. It's not like you haven’t said it before without really
meaning it."
"Well, those
times I was extremely wasted and you know what a poor sap I am when I
drink."
"Yeah, it's
pretty pathetic.
Rigor shoots an angry
glare towards Jack, but his expression quickly shifts to pleading.
"Jack...you’re still my best friend."
"Well…"
Rigor's eyes then get
all big and teary. "Please, Jack."
"That is not
going to work with me." Jack says, but Rigor's eyes get bigger and more
teary.
Jack lets out an
aggravated sigh. "Alright, but you need to keep a low profile. AND you …"
But Rigor hollers an
excited "Woo-wooo!" and transforms into his normal height. He jumps
down from the table and puts his arm around Jack's shoulder.
"Thanks pal, if
you kept on beating around the bush like that, I'd have to break your skull
in."
"You didn't let
me finish: AND you need to obey the rules."
Rigor looks at Jack
smugly.
"Jack, baby, I'm
not a rules type of guy. You know that."
Yes, yes, Jack does
know.
"Yes, but--and do
NOT call me baby--if you are going to stay here then you are going to HAVE TO
obey the rules. I've saved this town from a corrupt king and given them a King
not many of them want to disembowel."
Rigor claps
encouragingly. "Good deal. I mean, the whole
not-many-people-want-to-disembowel-you sounds pretty boring, but hey, I'm proud
of you." Rigor lights up a smoke. "First things first. Where's the
ladies at?"
"What?"
"Jack!" A
pleasant yell rises from downstairs.
Rigor smiles.
"Oh, I hear lady number one. She the royal skull cleaner?" His
eyebrows go up and down.
"She's my soul
mate."
"Get off of it.
That's just a dorky way of saying bed pal."
"I believe I
said, soul mate."
Rigor puts his arm
around his shoulder. "Is this a happy relationship?" Jack gives him
an angry look. "Because, you know, I can take her from you."
"Jack! What’s
with all the rumbling going on up there?" Jack's soul mate yells again.
"Be right down in
a minute!" Jack calls down to her.
"So, you going to
introduce me to your woman?" Rigor smirks devilishly.
"Yeah, I suppose
I should. I still consider you my best friend. But no, I'm not going to."
Rigor doesn't look
pleased. "What's up with that?"
"You’ve stolen a
few of my girlfriends. I don't want the same thing to happen here."
"Not my fault.
They loved me for my sexiness! I can’t help being a sexy beast!" He
chuckles. "Nah, I’m just messing with you. I couldn’t help it if you
weren’t that smooth with the ladies, Jack."
Jack just shakes his
head. "God, I hate you," he turns around
and walks down the metal, spiral staircase.
"Oh, you love me
and you know it," Rigor laughs.
Jack walks down the
steps with Rigor gliding a few short feet behind him. A pretty lady wearing a
red and black dress is in the kitchen cleaning, with her back to the stairs.
Jack motions for Rigor to stay where he is, behind the opening that leads into
the kitchen. He rolls his eyes, and lights another cigarette with a flame
flaring from the tip of his thumb. Jack goes to his soul mate and puts both
arms on her shoulders.
"Jack, what was
that sound?" the woman says, turning around.
Rigor sees that
despite being dead, she is quite lovely. Decomposition has not touched her skin
and her facial expressions are lively.
"Katrina,
you know how you were telling me I should get some new friends?"
"Yes?"
"Well, an old
friend from my school days just showed up."
She smiles, a sweet,
gentle smile. "Really?"
"Yeah!"
"That’s great!
Where is he? I'd love to meet him."
"You'll be the
only one." Jack laughs nervously. "That's for sure." He turns
his head to Rigor's direction. "Rigor."
"Rigor? That’s
kind of a funny name."
"Yeah, his last
name is Mortis."
"Hmm, he must be
an interesting type."
Jack mutters,
"That’s an understatement." He then calls again. "Rigor! Come in
and meet Katrina."
Rigor glides through
the entryway into the kitchen.
"How’s it…” his voice trails off. His vision
fogs. Katrina is all he can see and his brain seems to be on hold.
She is smiling, but Jack watches Rigor suspiciously as
Rigor starts to mumble things not even a drunk utter. Jack quirks an angry
eyebrow. Katrina’s smiles takes on a nervous edge.
"Rigor, are you
okay?" Jack asks. He snaps his fingers in front of Rigor's face.
Rigor comes to but
still appears to be slightly entranced.
"Wow," is all he can manage.
Jack smiles,
"Yeah, she is wow."
Katrina wraps her arm
around Jack. "Aw, thanks Jack,” she says sweetly.
Rigor’s mind wakes up
and kicks into dirty gear. "You’re a spicy hot, momma! Let me guess? On
your first date, ol' Jacky boy here left you in stitches, huh? Ha! Stitches!
You get it?" Jack laughs nervously as Katrina's smile fades a little more.
"It's a pleasure,
Rigor," she says coolly.
"Yep. You know,
back in our Poltergeist Academy days, me and Jack used to be quite the
pair." Rigor says with a smile, thinking of the old days.
“That was a long time
ago,” she says sternly.
"Maybe, but you
know what people say. Some things never change, right Jack? Me and Jack always
had one rule." Rigor says, holding up his index finger.
"Oh,
really?" Katrina responds in a frosty tone of voice.
Jack is getting a
little nervous as he butts in. "Uh, Kat, don't you have to go to the
Witches’ Shop or something? I think I got to go and take Rigor out back and
show him my VERY SHARP guillotine."
"No, Jack, she
wants to hear the rule. Don't you?" Rigor says to Katrina.
“I suppose so,” she
says politely.
Rigor puts his hand on
Katrina's shoulder. "The one rule is, Jack lets me mingle with his ladies.
It's kind of like an open house. So, with that being said, want to go do the
monster mash?"
"Oh, god."
Jack smacks his head as Rigor smirks in his annoying fashion.
Katrina’s polite smile
disappears, anger flares in her eyes. Without telegraphing her intention, she
punches him in the face and stomps out of the room.
This chick knows how to throw a punch,
Rigor thinks, realizing his nose is squashed into his head. He likes that about
her, of course. He smacks the back of his head with his hand and his face goes
back to normal. He smirks at Jack, who clearly does not share Rigor’s feeling.
"You haven't lost
your way with woman, I see."
"Were you really
that surprised?"
"Not
really."
"Jack."
Katrina calls to him from the door. "I am going to the Witches’ Store to
buy some supplies. I will be back in a few hours...he better NOT be here when I
return!"
She slams the steel
door behind her with strength that not many woman, dead or alive, have. Jack
jumps from the door’s crashing. He looks at Rigor angrily, but Rigor’s smirk is
unchanged.
"Buddy!"
"'Buddy!'"
Jack mocks him. "You've been here for a half an hour and already you're
causing more ruckus than the Headless Horseman!"
"I'll be a good
little boy, Jack. I’ll be better. But for now, how about a grand tour of this
place?"
Jack doesn't like the
idea, so he tries to stammer out of it. "I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure
they’ll die to see a legend of the ghost world, but these ghouls are different
here than they are in the Afterlife."
“How so?” Rigor asks.
"These ghouls are not accustomed to…" Jack
flails for an answer as Rigor looks at him with a “go on” expression. "A
ghost of your type."
But Rigor is
persistent. "C’mon, Jack. What’s the worst that can happen?"
"With you?
Anything!" Jack says, knowing from experience.
"Hey! I'm
offended by that. Look a tear." Rigor says, pointing to his eye.
"You're dead, you
can't cry."
"I can dry
cry!"
Jack has had enough. Just
give him his own way, he'll be fine. Jack says to himself. "Fine, if I
show you around. Will you at least try not to destroy this place?"
"No
promises." Rigor says jauntily.
Jack sighs. "With
you that's good enough."
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