A Spirit by any Other Name

"And I thought morning classes were bad," Mason managed to cry out between pained breaths. He rushed down the hallway searching for any means escape, quickly looking for a stairway. He was the new guy, the schoolgrounds were unfamiliar. Lost without a hope in the world Mason stopped running to catch his breath. His head was swirling. He had to think, fast.

Should he continue trying to find a stairway, hide, or maybe look for another way out? The window. He could manage a fall from this height. He checked for a latch but found they were all bolted shut. Made sense—probably a dumb plan anyway.

"Hello," The ominous disembodied voice bounced throughout the hallway, impossible to track. To hell with that.

Mason eyed a nearby fire extinguisher. Now he had a new dilemma in his hands, one of masculinity. Was he really going to go for the fire extinguisher to use as a blunt weapon or to continue his escape plan by using it to break the window open? On one hand staying and fighting seems manly. On the other hand, Mason didn't want to die and didn't have a set of rippling muscles to fall back on for a fight.

"Dude you're creeping me out leave me alone," Mason demanded. This is where office hours got him. Hunted down by a creepy voice. If it was a freshman prank it had gone too far. "Show yourself."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." This time the voice sounded like it was right behind him sending a jolt of electricity up his back and making him shudder instinctively. He twisted around on his heel ready for anything but saw nothing. The urge to run was now being replaced by a Jell-O like feeling in his legs.

"What's going on here? What are you talking about? Who are you?" Mason blurted out his questions in rapid succession.

"It's been a long time since I've had a visitor like you, you know."

"Visitor? You're the one following me around."

"That's not how this works." The voice came from above this time, but Mason swore he only glanced up to confirm the ceiling had sprinklers—it did.

"So, you're a ghost who doesn't understand how visitation works? We're not in Ghostland." Something slammed against a locker behind him and again he darted to the noise. "Only proving my ghost theory."

"I'm not a ghost I'm a spirit." Mason now heard the voice all around him. He found himself moreso fascinated than scared now. What would the school have done if he had broken the window?

"What's so special about me? I've never heard of this school being haunted. What if I spread rumors about you myself, what would you do to me?"

"No one would believe you, and it's a complicated spirit world matter involving bloodlines. I wouldn't expect a mortal like you to understand."

"Mortal? You're going to use that as a derogatory term? Maybe when I'm dead I'll be the type of spirit that can explain the science behind hauntings. The world must know, damnit."

"You're taking this quite well. Others in the past weren't as receptive as you."

"Well what can I say, you're a creepy sounding voice. You know, I almost broke a window trying to escape you. So, what happens now? Do I get instant A's, superpowers?" Mason rubbed his chin as he felt his heart rate return to normal.

"No, but I need your help."

"Great."

Worst school ever.

"So, there's this girl. I want her. It's love, spiritual love."

"I think we have different definitions of spiritual love," Mason said with a raise of his brow. "People usually reserve that for meaning, like, platonic relationships not ghost love."

"I told you, there's a difference between ghosts and spirits! And I know what the saying is usually for—I live inside a school after all. But this obviously isn't the platonic type of love and what's worse, it's with a mortal I can't interact with."

"The same sort of mortal you bagged me for being? Say it aint so. Also, I'm this sure your sort of unrequited, supernatural, totally-not-hopeless sort of love is super common."

"I could still make your life here hell, lay off the sarcasm sandwiches. But alas, I know you're right. Why couldn't you be female?"

"Wait if all I have to be is female for you to want to date me what makes this woman of yours so desirable?"

"She's hot. I want you to keep guys away from her." Mason couldn't believe he was actually scared of this spirit at one point.

"So, you want me to interfere with the machinations of her would-be wooers on your behalf?"

"Exactly."

"Too lame, not happening."

"Don't fight me on this," the spirit growled, his voice pinging through the hallway just like before.

"Look, you don't give me anything and want a whole lot in return. If you try and haunt me then you'll just be ostracizing the one person you can interact within this school. What's her name anyway."

"Why?"

"Just curious," Mason found himself grinning slyly then realized he looked completely crazy doing so. Come to think of it—this probably all looked very crazy if anyone were watching. "What if I dated her? Then you could at least be close through proximity."

"I'm starting to regret reaching out to you."

"You should, you got some problems my ghastly friend."

"I'll allow ghastly in principle."

"Ugh, why don't you just tell me the difference between a ghost and a spirit already."

"I would but I'm pulling the plug on this whole operation, I can wait for another." Mason was in disbelief.

"Are...are you dumping me? We just met. And I never even wanted to meet!"

"It's just not working out, so let's go ahead and say our goodbyes"

"Well, bye then," Mason said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Thanks for scaring the piss out of me, not answering any questions and then being creepy about a girl." Mason waited for a response, but one never came.

"It's going to be a great year," Mason said with a deep breath.

Hopefully no one checked the school cameras.

Another Dark Night

"Enough was enough, isn't that what I kept telling myself?" David croaked out to himself before coughing up blood onto the soaked, muddy grass he found himself smothered against. Still, he never imagined they'd try to hunt him down. He left with nothing but the clothes on his back, all his valuables left behind in plain sight so they'd have no motive to pursue him. Looks like they were more idealistic than he thought a group of raiders could be. They took defections very personally. The seeping bullet wound in his gut was testament to that.

He was exhausted. Death was becoming a warmer and warmer alternative by the moment. Yet he couldn't wallow in his agony, for he heard their shouting drawer closer and closer. As he forced himself up to his hands and knees he could see the light beams of their flashlights jittering through the rainy night. If they found him he knew the release of death would not be their offer. He'd be made an example of, his fate would be whispered among any wavering raiders as proof the risk of defection was far too great.

Damnit.

David forced himself up with a pained grunt. The torment in his stomach was so great it felt like it would burst open at any moment. He clasped his hand over the wound and shambled forward, away from the shouts and lights. He had no destination or plan. He tried his best to force the thoughts of being caught and tortured out of his mind and focus on the moment. The agonizing moment.

He continued on, but they were somehow tracking him down through the pouring rain. Was it a trail of blood he was leaving behind? His footprints? Were they just going to wait until he collapsed to finally capture him? No, they would never deprive themselves of the fun of capturing David while he struggled.

"Need help?" the voice came from the darkness David's flank. He turned to the voice in bewilderment and saw a man with a leather jacket and duster, crouched in the mud and facing him.

"Who..who are you?" David muttered out.

"Your hunters, are they raiders?" the man asked, ignoring David's question. As David nodded, he noticed the man was not a lot. Concealed by the brush and darkness were 3 other men wearing the same leather outfit, but the details were obscured by the night.

"Get over here and stay low," the man ordered. "We'll deal with the raiders for you." David was in no position to argue and complied, moving next to the man and falling to his knees, still clutching his stomach. He then watched as the small party of raiders appeared over the muddy knoll just 50 meters before them. Seemingly given some unseen signal, the four men each open fire. Their marksmanship was impressive to behold. In a matter of seconds every raider was turned into a crumpled heap on the ground. They weren't able to react, let alone return fire. What followed were long seconds of silence before one of the men stood up and began moving towards the bodies.

"You're wounded," the man who spoke to David before said, turning to him.

"We'll patch you up."

"Why help me?" David asked suspiciously. "I have no valuables to offer you."

"A cruel world we live in. Your true value comes from within. Not to mention, you'll die from your wounds if you refuse our help." It was a compelling argument, but David couldn't shake his suspicion. Generosity was rarely its own motive, and the ease with which they killed those raiders could only come from experience—lots of experience.

"Just patch me up and I'll be on my way," David replied. The man began to walk off and David followed suit, with the other two joining them. He was led to a surprisingly well-kept ranch. Instead of going through the front door, however, they entered through a side door that lead into a hallway

"Go on through the first door on your left and lay down in the bed. Our doctor will have a look at you." With that, the man shut the door behind David and left him alone inside the home. The hallway was dark, lit only by the occasionally candle on the wall. They would leave him alone in their house? How could they be so trusting? He wasn't exactly in any position to steal from them, but how could they be so sure of that?

David shook his head. Maybe he had spent far too long with the raiders and was becoming cynical. He walked down the hallway and stepped through the first door on his left. He found himself in a dark minimalistic room with nothing but a single chair and a decently-sized bed. These were far better accommodations than he had these past few years, and the bed seemed to call to him. He stripped down to his draws, leaving his mud-caked clothes on the chair and crawling into bed. With a simple close of his eyes he was pulled into sleep.

---

Something was wrong. David threw himself awake but his body refused his commands. It was a struggle to even pry his eyes open. They gave him a sedative? He was always resistant to them, but considering how tired he was it was of no surprise they had some effect. Probably not as long-lasting as his gracious hosts wanted, though. David knew it, it was all too good to be true, but why did they bother?

David's eyes grew wide as he found his answer. As he slowly regained control of his body he pushed the covers off him to reveal a multitude of stitches all across his navel. The bullet would itself was only bandaged over. What had they done to him? They didn't bother to tie him up, seemingly relying instead on their sedative. He forced himself to sit up, feeling the stiches painfully tug and stretch at the skin He needed to leave. Now.

He was light-headed, barely able to think and his body still struggled to obey his commands. He was in no shape for yet another escape, yet also had no choice. He was still alive for a reason, and he didn't want to know what that reason was. His clothes were missing from the chair and he couldn't see any replacements. He would die from the elements if he attempted to just escape like this. He needed clothes and a weapon. Though, judging from his situation not necessarily in that order.

He had but one advantage right now, which was that they didn't expect him to awaken so soon. He needed to hurry. With a goal in mind and his nerves steeled with determination he struggled out of bed and stumbled for the door. He had to refocus himself with each step as the anesthetic continued to cloud his mind. His vision would oscillate between double and normal as pain from his stomach continued to torment him. He creaked open the door as silently as he could, peering out into the dark hallway. He couldn't hear any sounds other than his own ragged breathing. He began to move toward the room adjacent from his, as it seemed a likely place for them to place his clothes. The door handle was cold to the touch, and the room he entered was much, much colder. In was barren of any furniture, and was instead decorated with blood splatters all across the walls. The floor itself had streaks and stains of blood as well, with one of the more prominent streaks leading to another door across the room.

The scene made David's stomach churn even more. He eyed the blood streak that lead towards the other door. It seemed recent, had they brought the raiders who were chasing him here? The thought of it disgusted him, but he needed clothes. Their bodies could still have clothes on them. David lurched towards the door, this one even colder, and opened it.

Bodies stacked upon naked bodies along the walls. Some with their skin flayed and others intact. Dozens of torsos and limbs pierced onto racks that hung from the ceiling. White containers ordered neatly on the ground with different labels for each. Heart. Lung. Liver. Kidney. Horror shot down his spine and seeped into the very fiber of his being. Which organs did they take from him? Was he already a dead man walking? And the bodies...they were cannibals. He had escaped from raiders to then fall into the clutches of cannibals?

What a sick joke. The shock of the cold had forced his mind into clarity. His was in an immeasurable amount of danger. He'd take his chances bracing the elements before spending one more moment in this place. He moved to leave the rooms quickly, finding his way back into the dark hallway. It had a far more ominous feel to it now than when he arrived.

Light suddenly washed over him as light bulbs he hadn't noticed before flickered to life from above. He instinctively brought his hands up to his face to shield his eyes from the light.

"Up a little early, are we?" The voice was familiar, but the tone was alien. It belonged to the same man he had spoken to before, the same man that offered to save him from the raiders.

As David's eyes quickly adjusted to the light he saw the man standing at the end of the hallway with his rifle shouldered. He was still wearing the same leather hat and duster, only now that David was able to see him clearly more details became clear. He wore a necklace of human teeth and ears. And the leather he wore was like none David had ever seen. It was distinctly pink. Distinctly human.

"What did you do to me?" David demanded. "What sort of monsters are you?" The man's mute expression quickly turned into a scowl.

"Monsters? Who do you think you are, calling your rescuers monsters?"

"Rescuers? You harvested my organs!"

"Did I not say your true value was found within?" David heard footsteps behind him and turned to see the three other men behind him. Their rifles were also shouldered, but they had bloodied butcher knifes in their hands, and they all wore the same leather. David was injured, dazed, and completely trapped by four cannibals who wore human skin. It was impossible to resist the waves of hopelessness that washed over him.

They began to step towards him.

"So what happens now?" David muttered as they drew close. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Why would we do that?" The man asked him. "That would be a terrible waste. You still have so much value within yourself."