Either I neglected it for the last few years, or I did it and forgot all about it, but last week I make sure to get the "Pure Human" collection post set up and added it to the header with the other complete works.
Also, this makes 4 updates in 2021, already halfway to what I was able to accomplish all of last year. Seems that my new years resolution is working out...
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[Little Ghost - Kristina Car Crash]
They entered the back yard of a one-story ranch house. It was a small yard with a garden in the corner and a blacktop half court with a basketball hoop on the far side. The trio stopped short of the court. “Just so you know, there’s a stairway of sorts here,” Clifford said “Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean you won’t drop down when you reach it.”
Kristina gave a small laugh. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said “I’m aware of a whole bunch of rules that I can’t understand!” Clifford pondered what she just said, then gave up after a few seconds and shook his head. “Let’s have mister expert over here go first,” he said as he referenced a smiling Sammy. “Sure,” Sammy said as he stepped forward “We wouldn’t want anyone to fall and break their leg.”
“That was the first time, and you lied to me where the drop was,” Clifford chided.
“It’s still freakin hilarious when a ghost cries out ‘Oh God I’ll break my leg!’ as he flails his arms in the air!” Sammy said with a laugh.
“So, what staircase?” Kristina finally asked.
“Just watch, honey,” Sammy said as he walked a few feet onto the court, then began descending into the pavement as if he were traversing stairs. “Right this way,” Clifford said as he followed. Kristina stuck close as Clifford disappeared into the basketball court. She lightly put her foot where both men began to drop and found her foot went right through like the court was merely an illusion. She crept her way down until only her head remained above ground.
They entered the back yard of a one-story ranch house. It was a small yard with a garden in the corner and a blacktop half court with a basketball hoop on the far side. The trio stopped short of the court. “Just so you know, there’s a stairway of sorts here,” Clifford said “Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean you won’t drop down when you reach it.”
Kristina gave a small laugh. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said “I’m aware of a whole bunch of rules that I can’t understand!” Clifford pondered what she just said, then gave up after a few seconds and shook his head. “Let’s have mister expert over here go first,” he said as he referenced a smiling Sammy. “Sure,” Sammy said as he stepped forward “We wouldn’t want anyone to fall and break their leg.”
“That was the first time, and you lied to me where the drop was,” Clifford chided.
“It’s still freakin hilarious when a ghost cries out ‘Oh God I’ll break my leg!’ as he flails his arms in the air!” Sammy said with a laugh.
“So, what staircase?” Kristina finally asked.
“Just watch, honey,” Sammy said as he walked a few feet onto the court, then began descending into the pavement as if he were traversing stairs. “Right this way,” Clifford said as he followed. Kristina stuck close as Clifford disappeared into the basketball court. She lightly put her foot where both men began to drop and found her foot went right through like the court was merely an illusion. She crept her way down until only her head remained above ground.
“This is so funky,” she said as she crouched down in place but all she saw was the darkness from compacted dirt and rock. She took another step, but stayed in darkness so she took a leap forward and found herself dropping into a snug little foyer with a large metal door at the end. The entire room was lit by a small portable light in the corner.
“What the heck is this?” she asked.
“This is a fallout shelter,” Clifford explained as Sammy took the liberty of walking forward and through the metal door. “Built in the 50s under the shadow of nuclear annihilation,” he continued “Until new owners didn’t want the bother and covered the whole thing up.”
“But why are we here?” Kristina asked.
“Because it’s safe,” Clifford responded as he nodded her to follow him through the door. Kristina readied herself and stepped through the metal door to emerge into another dimly lit room, this time larger than the foyer and filled with six other ghosts in addition to Clifford and Sammy. “Who dat?” one of them, an older black one, asked. “Out of town, I bet,” someone else, a young kid with half his hair shaved, said. “You from across the border in Canada? I think I’ve seen you before,” a third, gay looking man with hair slicked to the side, said.
“Her name is Kristina,” Clifford announced “Newbie. Car Crash.” Groans of understanding sounded in the room. “Car crashes the worst,” a fat man in a business suit said “Look on the bright side though, no rehab.”
“Uh...thanks?” Kristina said.
“Shut up, Bill!” the gay said “How old are you, honey?”
“I meant it when I said she’s new,” Clifford broke in “Give her a minute.”
The other ghosts eased off and muttered about themselves while Kristina took in the surroundings. The shelter area was cramped with two sets of bunk beds to one side of the room and empty shelving on the other. The younger ghost sat on top of one of the bunks with his legs hung over the side. The black ghost sat below next to a frail, middle aged looking woman who seemed like she smoked more than her fair share of cigarettes in life. Standing by the shelving was the gay one with an irritated old man who didn’t care much for Kristina. Sammy had walked over to the bed next to the two ghosts and laid out on it. In the back of the room was a desk where Clifford had gone over to where Bill was sitting.
“How are you doing, hun?” the gay one asked after Kristina had looked around for a moment. “I won’t lie,” Kristina said with an uneasy smile “I feel like I’m constantly on the brink of a freak out. Already had a few tonight already.” The gay ghost grinned wide at that. “I’ve been dead six years and I still haven’t calmed down. It’s been one big, constant, unending, fucking breakdown.”
“I look forward to mine,” Kristina responded.
“I watched my own autopsy. I was sobbing the entire time even though we don’t cry.”
“I was beginning to wonder about that.”
“You’ll learn,” he winked “I’m Ricky. Drug Overdose. Pleased to meet you Kristina Car Crash.”
“Car crash isn’t my name.”
“It is now!” Sammy shouted “All we have are conversations. No touching, no eating, no interactions other than stories and more stories. Cause of death as your last name skips the most obvious question when you meet someone new.”
“How come you two didn’t do that?”
“You died like five minutes ago, we had to acclimate you!”
“Ok, shut up!” Ricky said excitedly “So you know me, I take it you already know Sammy Fire and Cliff Pneumonia. Let’s see if you can tell how everyone else died!”
“I’m game,” Kristina said with a morbid interest.
“Ok, let’s start with the boring ones,” Ricky said as he gestured to the old man beside him who rolled his eyes. “This is Charlie Cancer,” Ricky said “Guess which cancer?” “Ummm,” Kristina pondered while she looked at Charlie “Old people don’t care about smoking dangers. Lung cancer.”
“Nope!” Ricky announced “Prostate cancer. Poor Charlie never got tested.” Charlie darted his eyes to Ricky before looking away again and muttering to himself. “Now me? If I had lived to be an old man, I’d get tested weekly, if you catch my drift.” He winked and Kristina laughed.
“So, Charlie has a ghost family of sorts,” Ricky said as he pointed to the woman next to the black man “Cheryl here also died of cancer, different kind, so that makes them more like cousins.” Cheryl gave a halfhearted wave. “She definitely looks like a smoker!” Kristina beamed. “No,” Cheryl said “I smoked like a chimney after my diagnosis though.”
“Such a misleading slut,” Ricky said “Skin cancer did her in. Now we’re done with boring cancer. Onto more interesting people.” The black man stood up. “Jamal Gunshot,” he introduced himself. Jamal dressed in an open button-down shirt with a white undershirt and jeans. “Was it a gang banger? Kristina said, half joking. “Nah, it was a cop.”
“Oh,” Kristina said, feeling guilty “I’m sorry.”
“I shot two of them before they bothered firing back,” Jamal said “So they weren’t exactly unjustified.”
“Why was there shooting?”
“Armed robbery. Shit happens.” Sammy and Jamal laughed.
“Now for the baby of the room,” Ricky said pointing up to the kid.
“I’m not the baby,” he responded “This girl died more recent.”
“She doesn’t look 15, Mike. So, Kristina, what do you think is the story behind Mike Truck.”
“Truck?” Kristina asked “He was in a truck crash? Does that make him my family of sorts?”
“Noooooooot quite,” Ricky responded.
“Skateboard incident,” Mike clarified “I was forced off the sidewalk and this 18-wheeler blew through a red light. I didn’t even have a body to look over.”
“Ok,” Kristina said “I’ll get the next one. Who is that guy?” She pointed to Bill by the desk with Clifford. Ricky shrugged “Don’t worry about Bill. You still gotta guess what drug I overdosed on.”
“Well not weed I hope,” Kristina said with a smile.
“I would hope fucking not,” Ricky said, smiling back.
“I knew a couple druggies,” Kristina said, looking Ricky over for the tell-tale signs, then realizing that track marks and such signs wouldn’t show up on a ghost. “Cocaine,” she finally guessed.
“Damn,” Ricky said “Was I really that easy?”
“Oh, I got it?” Kristina asked, very pleased with herself.
“Congrats, honey,” Ricky said “I’d hug you if, you know, we could.”
“But I love hugs.”
“Oh my God, I miss sex,” Ricky said with his face turning sad.
Charlie swore, then walked away and through the metal door to leave. “What’s his problem?” Kristina asked. “He’s been dead a long time,” Mike said. “No, it’s more than that,” Ricky corrected “He wasn’t alone. I remember two other ghosts he associated with years back.”
“What happened to them?” Kristina asked.
“They move on, disassociate from each other, or usually a Reaper happens and it’s all over then.”
“I knew a guy once upon a time,” Sammy said “Had a whole group he ran with, then a Reaper crashed their party and only he got away. If you thought you knew trauma before, try watching everyone you hang with get reaped and then you barely get away. It changes you. He didn’t last long before he went looking for a Reaper just to end it all.”
“Why would you go looking for a Reaper?” Mike asked.
“Is it still suicide if you’re already dead?” Cheryl mused.
“What the heck is this?” she asked.
“This is a fallout shelter,” Clifford explained as Sammy took the liberty of walking forward and through the metal door. “Built in the 50s under the shadow of nuclear annihilation,” he continued “Until new owners didn’t want the bother and covered the whole thing up.”
“But why are we here?” Kristina asked.
“Because it’s safe,” Clifford responded as he nodded her to follow him through the door. Kristina readied herself and stepped through the metal door to emerge into another dimly lit room, this time larger than the foyer and filled with six other ghosts in addition to Clifford and Sammy. “Who dat?” one of them, an older black one, asked. “Out of town, I bet,” someone else, a young kid with half his hair shaved, said. “You from across the border in Canada? I think I’ve seen you before,” a third, gay looking man with hair slicked to the side, said.
“Her name is Kristina,” Clifford announced “Newbie. Car Crash.” Groans of understanding sounded in the room. “Car crashes the worst,” a fat man in a business suit said “Look on the bright side though, no rehab.”
“Uh...thanks?” Kristina said.
“Shut up, Bill!” the gay said “How old are you, honey?”
“I meant it when I said she’s new,” Clifford broke in “Give her a minute.”
The other ghosts eased off and muttered about themselves while Kristina took in the surroundings. The shelter area was cramped with two sets of bunk beds to one side of the room and empty shelving on the other. The younger ghost sat on top of one of the bunks with his legs hung over the side. The black ghost sat below next to a frail, middle aged looking woman who seemed like she smoked more than her fair share of cigarettes in life. Standing by the shelving was the gay one with an irritated old man who didn’t care much for Kristina. Sammy had walked over to the bed next to the two ghosts and laid out on it. In the back of the room was a desk where Clifford had gone over to where Bill was sitting.
“How are you doing, hun?” the gay one asked after Kristina had looked around for a moment. “I won’t lie,” Kristina said with an uneasy smile “I feel like I’m constantly on the brink of a freak out. Already had a few tonight already.” The gay ghost grinned wide at that. “I’ve been dead six years and I still haven’t calmed down. It’s been one big, constant, unending, fucking breakdown.”
“I look forward to mine,” Kristina responded.
“I watched my own autopsy. I was sobbing the entire time even though we don’t cry.”
“I was beginning to wonder about that.”
“You’ll learn,” he winked “I’m Ricky. Drug Overdose. Pleased to meet you Kristina Car Crash.”
“Car crash isn’t my name.”
“It is now!” Sammy shouted “All we have are conversations. No touching, no eating, no interactions other than stories and more stories. Cause of death as your last name skips the most obvious question when you meet someone new.”
“How come you two didn’t do that?”
“You died like five minutes ago, we had to acclimate you!”
“Ok, shut up!” Ricky said excitedly “So you know me, I take it you already know Sammy Fire and Cliff Pneumonia. Let’s see if you can tell how everyone else died!”
“I’m game,” Kristina said with a morbid interest.
“Ok, let’s start with the boring ones,” Ricky said as he gestured to the old man beside him who rolled his eyes. “This is Charlie Cancer,” Ricky said “Guess which cancer?” “Ummm,” Kristina pondered while she looked at Charlie “Old people don’t care about smoking dangers. Lung cancer.”
“Nope!” Ricky announced “Prostate cancer. Poor Charlie never got tested.” Charlie darted his eyes to Ricky before looking away again and muttering to himself. “Now me? If I had lived to be an old man, I’d get tested weekly, if you catch my drift.” He winked and Kristina laughed.
“So, Charlie has a ghost family of sorts,” Ricky said as he pointed to the woman next to the black man “Cheryl here also died of cancer, different kind, so that makes them more like cousins.” Cheryl gave a halfhearted wave. “She definitely looks like a smoker!” Kristina beamed. “No,” Cheryl said “I smoked like a chimney after my diagnosis though.”
“Such a misleading slut,” Ricky said “Skin cancer did her in. Now we’re done with boring cancer. Onto more interesting people.” The black man stood up. “Jamal Gunshot,” he introduced himself. Jamal dressed in an open button-down shirt with a white undershirt and jeans. “Was it a gang banger? Kristina said, half joking. “Nah, it was a cop.”
“Oh,” Kristina said, feeling guilty “I’m sorry.”
“I shot two of them before they bothered firing back,” Jamal said “So they weren’t exactly unjustified.”
“Why was there shooting?”
“Armed robbery. Shit happens.” Sammy and Jamal laughed.
“Now for the baby of the room,” Ricky said pointing up to the kid.
“I’m not the baby,” he responded “This girl died more recent.”
“She doesn’t look 15, Mike. So, Kristina, what do you think is the story behind Mike Truck.”
“Truck?” Kristina asked “He was in a truck crash? Does that make him my family of sorts?”
“Noooooooot quite,” Ricky responded.
“Skateboard incident,” Mike clarified “I was forced off the sidewalk and this 18-wheeler blew through a red light. I didn’t even have a body to look over.”
“Ok,” Kristina said “I’ll get the next one. Who is that guy?” She pointed to Bill by the desk with Clifford. Ricky shrugged “Don’t worry about Bill. You still gotta guess what drug I overdosed on.”
“Well not weed I hope,” Kristina said with a smile.
“I would hope fucking not,” Ricky said, smiling back.
“I knew a couple druggies,” Kristina said, looking Ricky over for the tell-tale signs, then realizing that track marks and such signs wouldn’t show up on a ghost. “Cocaine,” she finally guessed.
“Damn,” Ricky said “Was I really that easy?”
“Oh, I got it?” Kristina asked, very pleased with herself.
“Congrats, honey,” Ricky said “I’d hug you if, you know, we could.”
“But I love hugs.”
“Oh my God, I miss sex,” Ricky said with his face turning sad.
Charlie swore, then walked away and through the metal door to leave. “What’s his problem?” Kristina asked. “He’s been dead a long time,” Mike said. “No, it’s more than that,” Ricky corrected “He wasn’t alone. I remember two other ghosts he associated with years back.”
“What happened to them?” Kristina asked.
“They move on, disassociate from each other, or usually a Reaper happens and it’s all over then.”
“I knew a guy once upon a time,” Sammy said “Had a whole group he ran with, then a Reaper crashed their party and only he got away. If you thought you knew trauma before, try watching everyone you hang with get reaped and then you barely get away. It changes you. He didn’t last long before he went looking for a Reaper just to end it all.”
“Why would you go looking for a Reaper?” Mike asked.
“Is it still suicide if you’re already dead?” Cheryl mused.
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