rowyn

Apart from the staircase leading up to the attic, the storeroom held mostly empty boxes; Jim poked through them while waiting for the rest of the kids to catch up, and found an old journal. "Hey, it has more of Mr. Vernon's notes about his experiments." Jim flipped through to the final page as the last kid entered the room. "He wrote 'They're coming for me tomorrow. I won't have time to perfect my work. I'll have to complete the process on my wife tonight, so she can join the children. She won't be the same afterward, of course. But then they'll all be mine. Forever.'"

"Want to know how it works, do you?" a sepulchral voice said. The kids all turned to watch as the skull with burning eyes floated through the wall into the room. It drew closer to Jim. "Perhaps I'll give you a personal demonstration."

Adelaide brought down the fireplace tongs and grabbed the skull with it, bringing the skull to the ground. Bobby yelled "BAD SKULL!" and stomped on it with all the might of one small shinguard-clad leg. It was a very solid stomp, grinding the skull against the floor. Even so, the skull was unharmed, laughing hollowly and not even trying to get out of the grip of the tongs. Bobby drew his foot back, and Jim drew out the ceremonial knife to impale the skull.

The knife thrust didn't seem to hurt it either, but the skull stopped laughing. "So that's how you're going to be, is it?" It flew to the ceiling and disappeared through it.

Mark stared at the spot where it had gone. "We have to go up there, don't we?"

"Yeah," Matt said. Wayne was already starting up the final stairwell. The other kids followed suit. Tears of stark terror poured down Mark's cheeks, but he went with the rest into the attic. Watching him, Kristi thought she had never seen anything so brave.

*

The attic was dominated by five giant bell jars of green glass, each one holding a pitiful human figure curled up and suspended in liquid inside of it, the people varying in size from a tiny baby to an adult woman. A massive antique machine beside the jars connected to them via hoses and wires. The jars were lit from within by tortured spirits, their faces locked in expressions of horror. The adult spirit's expression changed from agonized to fearful as she saw the children entering. "Get out, children," she said, urgently. "You have to leave. He'll get you too. Run!"

"We can't leave you," Matt said, the kids staring at the jars and trying to figure out what to do.

"You must!" the mother's spirit urged.

The skull rematerialized in the attic then, now larger than a grown man, pits of fire in its eyes. "You cannot take them from me! They are MINE!" it screamed. "Get out! You can leave now!" The bars melted away from the attic windows. Far below, they heard the bang of the front door flying open.

For the last hour, Kristi had wanted nothing more than to leave, but neither she nor any of the kids moved to depart now. Even if it's not just another trick, we can't leave those poor souls like this. I'm in a ghost story. If I were writing this, how would we stop him?

Bobby stared at the sinister horror and the family it had been torturing for over a century. His young mind came to a quick decision. "NattiecanIattackthemonster?okaythanksbye." Pulling free of Natalie's hand, he charged it with an incoherent yell. Wayne charged with him, but the preschooler was going after the nearest of the jars, not the skull itself.

"The machine!" Kristi yelled with sudden insight. "Jim, if you can figure out how to make the machine let them go, his family can stop the skull!"

Jim ran to the machine, Kristi and Mark with him, helping him trace the connections, while Natalie, Matt and Bobby worked to attack and distract the gigantic skull, which was diving down to engulf Wayne. In a moment, Jim shouted, "That lever!" He pointed to a switch in a central pipe between the machine and the bell jars, some eight feet above the floor. "Pull it and it'll release all of them!" Jim scooped up Wayne with the intent of holding him up to the lever. Instead, Jim was just in time to keep the skull from catching the toddler up in its now-massive jaws. Matt knocked both of them further out of range of the undead creature, while Bobby's headlong charge passed right through the skull.

Adelaide scrambled up the machine with the same ease that she climbed trees, and yanked the lever down. There was a mechanical a hiss and a ka-clunk, then the liquid filling the bell jars began to bubble and the souls bound inside rushed out through the glass walls. The five previously-bound ghosts fell upon the giant skull in a phosphorescent swirl of soul-stuff, crying out for vengeance. All six forms fell screaming through the attic floor.

The kids seized this opportunity to flee, pelting out of the attic and back to the third floor. The house seemed more unstable than ever, walls and floorboards shuddering from the struggle of supernatural forces. Matt and Mark picked up Scotty and carried him with them, while Bobby scouted the second floor for hostiles. The toy soldiers had vanished, so the kids continued their headlong flight, skirting around a hole in the floor from part of the ceiling falling through it.

*

When they'd escaped to the yard, they saw that part of the attic had collapsed inwards too. Mark and Matt lay Scotty down as gently as they could on the unkempt grass.

"Now can we call 911?" Kristi asked.

Jim checked his phone. It had signal now, so he punched the buttons. "What am I going to tell them?"

"We are going to be in such trouble," Natalie lamented.

Wayne got onto this pedalcar and took off for home.

Kristi held out her hand for the phone. "Here, let me do the talking." After the 911 dispatcher got the details of the emergency and their location, the inevitable questions of 'why are you out by an abandoned house in the middle of the night in the first place?' began to arise. Kristi explained that they'd been having a sleepover, and Bobby had thought that he'd seen Wayne outside and headed this way, so the kids had gone to investigate. Of course, they'd been mistaken -- Wayne was home safe in bed -- but Scotty had gotten hurt searching the mansion with them.

While Kristi was on the phone, Natalie scolded Bobby for breaking away from her in the attic and going after the monster. Bobby looked at her with big mournful eyes. "But I asked Nattie sorry."

"You didn't wait for an answer!"

"You din't say I had to wait for an answer!"

During a pause while the dispatcher handled something on the other end, Kristi put the phone on mute and suggested Adelaide and Mark go home: "The adults already know about everyone else, but there's no need for any more of us to get in trouble."

In the end, though, Kristi was able to convince the grown-ups that they'd had good reason for worrying and being out there, and no one got very much trouble from their parents as they came out to pick up the kids.

It was very late when Natalie and Matt got home and crawled into their respective beds. As Natalie dropped off to sleep, little blue hands drew the covers up over her and tucked her into bed, before the beersoul slipped back downstairs to his newly-adopted cellar.

Kristi convinced Adelaide's mom as well as her own parents to let Adelaide sleep over. Kristi's own father worked the night shift, and her mother went to bed around nine. At about eleven, they prepared to sneak out: Kristi dressed up like a ninja, all in black. Adelaide was as quiet in sneaking as she was in class: she went out the window and climbed down the adjoining tree with perfect balance, helping Kristi along as she went. As they walked to the rendezvous, Adelaide munched nervously from a box of Wheat Thins.

Natalie and Matt had an even easier time getting out. Their parents mostly ignored them, leaving them to the care of their crazy-cat-lady nanny. She cooked for them: sometimes magnificent meals like grilled salmon and risotto. And sometimes ... more inexplicable dishes. Like tonight's macaroni with liver, and Cheez-it loaf.

They were too anxious to have eaten much anyway.

The four of them met on the street leading to the abandoned mansion, and were surprised to find Jim and Mark there too. "I figured it'd be like an adventure," Jim said. "I brought everything we'd need in my backpack -- rope, my phone, flashlight, lantern, kerosene, lighter, canteen .... "

"Bobby!" Natalie cried out, as the little boy came running up too, wearing his soccer shinguards like armor. "What are you doing out this late? You shouldn't be out by yourself!"

"But I had to make sure you were okay Nattie!" Bobby insisted. Natalie bent down to rig a tether for him, tsking. It was too late to send him home. And besides, it's not like any of us should be here, Kristi thought to herself, clutching Adelaide's hand. Adelaide crunched on another Wheat Thin.

As the seven continued up the hill, a movement from the side caught their eye, and they turned to see a lone figure emerge from the shadows at the wheel of a vehicle.

It was Wayne, wearing Batman footie pajamas, in his pedal-powered batcar. A cape made from a blanket tied around his neck fluttered in the breeze, then fell around his shoulders as he pedaled to a stop beside the group.

"... okay, who brought Batman?" Kristi asked.

"I think he brought himself," Mark said.

Natalie made a tether for Wayne, too, and passed the handle for it to Kristi. Together, the eight of them made their way to the yard of the abandoned house.

Kristi looked around nervously. "Did Scotty say to meet outside or inside?"

"Outside," Matt said.

"Okay well we're here and he's not so I guess he chickened out let's go," Kristi said.

"I'm here." Scotty stepped out from the woods surrounding the property, with five of his friends at his back. "I see you were too cowardly to come alone."

Kristi eyed Scotty's friends, all 5th-graders like him. "So were you."

Matt glanced over his own collection of friends, all younger and some of them less than half Scotty's size. "Well, if you're afraid to face Batman in the dark ... "

Scotty crossed his arms with a sour look. "I'm not the one who's a chicken. So here's what you're going to do, if you wanna prove you're not a coward. You're going to go into that house, go to the basement, flash your light through the window so we know you're there, then go to the attic and do the same."

Adelaine and Mark both looked terrified at the very mention of this.

"What we're gonna do?" Matt repeated. "What about you?"

"I'm not the one with anything to prove," Scotty said.

"So you admit you're too scared to do it yourself?"

Scotty started to say something, then snorted. "Fine. I'm not scared. I'll go in first."

Adelaine clutched at Kristi's hand, looking like she wanted to stop the other boy even if he was a mean bully. But no one did. The kids stood on the grounds outside the house, watching as the red-haired kid disappeared inside. A minute later, a light flashed through the basement window. Adelaide squeaked a little.

Mark muttered to himself, "He shouldn't go in the attic, it's not safe in the attic."

"It's fine," Kristi said, patting Mark's back in reassurance. "He's gonna be fine. We'll be fine. It's just a house. Here, hug Cthulhu." She took her stuffed toy out of her backpack and passed him to Mark, who clutched at it and did not look comforted.

Minutes passed. No light shone out of the attic window. Scotty did not come back out. Wayne started cutting away at his tether gradually, with a pair of fingernail clippers. "Stop that," Kristi said. "Batman doesn't break things."

Jim checked his smartphone. "It's been twenty minutes," he said finally.

"This is crazy," Matt said. "He should have been back by now. I'm going in after him."

"No," one of Scotty's friends said. "It's cool. I'm sure he's fine. Give him another ten minutes."

Not entirely persuaded, the kids waited.

Five minutes later, a terrible scream pierced the night, like the wailing of a woman in agony.

Scotty's friends took off in a panic.

"Call 911!" Kristi yelled at Jim.

"We can't call 911!" Mark said. "None of us are supposed to be here!"

Matt said, "And they'll just think we're pranking them, if we tell them we heard a scream at night by the haunted house."

"It doesn't matter if they think it's a prank, they still have to send someone!" Kristi said.

"Maybe Scotty is pranking us," Jim said.

Wayne gave up on waiting for the others and charged for the front door, snapping his weakened tether. Kristi tried to intercept him, but the little kid easily evaded her lunge.

Bobby followed in Wayne's wake, pulling Natalie stumbling along behind him. As Wayne vanished through the mansion's front door, Bobby reached the porch. It caved way beneath him and he fell into the basement below.

"Bobby!" Natalie fought to keep her balance at the edge of the hole. Jim and Matt tried to tackle her to keep her from falling, and instead sent all three of them tumbling in after Bobby.

Through good luck, though they suffered a few bruises, no one was seriously hurt. They got out their flashlights and called up "We're okay!" as the kids above yelled down at them.

Adelaide, Kristi, and Mark advanced more cautiously on the porch, skirting the gaping hole. "Jim, throw me your rope," Kristi yelled. He tossed it up, and Kristi tested the posts of the porch and railing for something sturdy enough to tie it to. Everything felt rotted and weak. "This is a death trap ... I can't believe it hasn't fallen down already. I can't find anything safe to secure it to."

"We'll find the door up," Matt said. "Don't worry!"

Kristi threw the rope back down. Wayne had vanished into the house. "Okay, we'll go in and look for the entrance from the first floor."

Jim and Matt shone their flashlights around the basement. The basement was full of wine racks -- row after row of them -- but no bottles. There was no door visible, but stacks of wooden crates were piled against one wall. Detritus and cobwebs littered the dusty floor. An old moosehead was mounted on the wall, something metallic glinting in its mouth. Natalie checked Bobby over to make sure he was all right, scolding him for running ahead of them.

A flash of something blue by the crates caught the attention of the older boys. "What was that?" Matt whispered.

"I don't know," Jim said. "One of the websites said that this house used to have a beersoul."

"A beersoul? What's that?"

"It's like a brownie for wine cellars. They'll take care of your stuff, keep it in order and clean and make sure nothing happens to it. But you have to give them a pint of beer a day, or ... "

"Or what?" Natalie asked.

"Or else." Jim gave them a meaningful look.

Matt gave the moosehead a closer inspection, putting his hand into its mouth. He retrieved a metal flask, like the one Mr.Jacobs carried, but much older. Its cap was rusted shut, but something was sloshing inside it.

A blue face appeared behind the crates, yellow eyes glinting ferally at the kids. Natalie hugged Bobby to her chest so he wouldn't see. Jim swung his flashlight to catch it in the full beam, but it darted out of sight again. "Something's there."

Matt tried to open the flask, but it was stuck fast. He got out the plier attachment on his swiss army knife and wrenched at it, but only scored the metal around the lid.

"I'll help you with that Mattie!" Bobby broke free of Natalie's grip and took the flask, wrenching it open. Alcohol fumes wafted out. "There you go!"

"I loosened it first," Matt mumbled.

A plaintive, drawn-out whimper came from the crates. Matt handed Bobby back to Natalie and advanced on the boxes, holding out the flask. He put it down where they'd seen the face, and stepped back.

A blue furry creature, looking a bit like a cross between a chimp and a dog, snatched up the flask in both paw-hands and drank it down, making tiny slurping contented noises. The children stared with a mixture of terror and fascination.

Natalie broke the silence first. "It's so cute!"

Bobby squirmed about in her arms. "Ahhh MONSTER!" He broke from her grasp and charged it.

Matt tackled him to the ground. "No, Bobby, don't!"

"Are you a beersoul?" Jim asked. The furry blue creature nodded. "How long have you been here?"

"Man many years," the creature said. "All dry, so dry, so very dry. Now at last! Drink again." He waved the flask happily. "Thank you."

"It's not a monster, Bobby," Natalie said, as Matt let Bobby up. "It"s a magical talking puppy."

"Puppy?" Bobby said. He peered at the beersoul, then ran over to it and began patting its head. The creature's mobile ears splayed out to either side. "Can you do magic?"

The beersoul nodded, and spread its arms. Candles in sconces the children had not noticed earlier lit up, flooding the room with a soft golden glow. The dust and debris in the room swept from the room, billowing from the hole in the porch in a mass of cobwebs. Planks flew upwards to nail themselves neatly into place, repairing the hole like a master carpenter.

*

From the front hall, Kristi, Adelaide, Mark and Wayne could see through the open front door as the cobwebs billowed up for no apparent reason, and heard the sound of wood hammering into place under its own power.

They freaked out.

"They shouldn't have gone into the basement!" Adelaide wailed. "There are always monsters in the basement!" Kristi stared in stunned disbelief, clutching her stuffed Cthulhu. Wayne shrieked. Mark worked to calm them down, and after some moments he got them to stop panicking.

"We have to get them out of the basement," Kristi said once she'd calmed down, starting for the stairs leading down.

"No!" Adelaide grabbed her arm. "You can't go in the basement! You don't know what might be down there!"

*

In the basement, the beersoul was moving the crates for the kids. At their request, it showed them the contents as well, ripping crates open with three-fingered taloned hands. One box was full of old books: an antique family bible with a family tree in it, an ancient picture book of fairy tales that Bobby seized on, and several other old and valuable-looking volumes.

Another crate held alchemical supplies. Jim dug through them while the beersoul opened another crate. He couldn't tell what must of the supplies did, but he found a ceremonial-looking knife, with the groove down its center streaked by rusty brown. Jim pocketed the knife, and next found some notes. "It says Mr. Vernon was using these for scientific experiments based on practices by ... African slaves in the Caribbean," Jim said. "... the last page says that his first subject was going to be 'to save my unfortunate daughter, Claire.'" Jim turned to the Bible and flipped to the family tree. "It says Claire died at four months."

The next crate held a tiny coffin.

The kids didn't open the coffin.

Kristi and Mark came down through the now-cleared doorway, having left Adelaide upstairs to protect Wayne, or possibly the other way around. They watched the beersoul in wide-eyed amazement.

"What was Mr. Vernon doing?" Natalie asked the beersoul in a hushed voice.

"Bad things. Very bad things." The beersoul shook its head. "Putting souls into inanimate things."

"Is this all of his experiments?"

"No. Others in the attic."

"... what's in the attic?" Matt asked.

"Things I not let him keep here," the beersoul said.

"We are NOT going to the attic," Mark interjected.

"He was bad man," the beersoul said. "Very bad. They took Master Vernon away. But then they brought him back."

Kristi swallowed hard. "... how many pieces was he in when they brought him back?"

The beersoul counted, slowly, using both hands. "Six."

"... Scotty's on his own let's go home," Kristi said.

"Have you seen another kid tonight?" Matt asked. "A red-haired boy, few inches taller than me?"

The beersoul said, "Boy appeared at top of steps, shone light through, went back up."

"That cheater!" Kristi exclaimed. "He didn't even come down here."

"We still have to find him," Matt said. The kids started trooping up the stairs, the beersoul following them. Adelaide stared at the strange creature as it reached the top, then offered it a Wheat Thin.

The beersoul took the Wheat thin and turned it over, perplexed. "Thank you?" Adelaide demonstrated by eating one herself.The beersoul ohhhed and put it in his mouth. He gave a big artificial smile, turned around and walked past the other kids, and spit it out as soon as he was out of Adelaide's sight. He put the cracker in a pocket with an expression between confused and appalled.

But before they left the basement, Natalie turned to Matt. "What about him?" She pointed to the beersoul. "We can't just leave him here."

"He does need a can of beer every day," Jim said.

"That's less than Bobby's uncle," Matt pointed out.

"We have a wine cellar," Natalie said. "He could stay there. Our parents order more liquor after every party anyway. They'd never notice one drink a day."

The beersoul brightened at this prospect, long ears pricking.

"Well ... all right."

After Natalie gave him the address, the little blue furry creature put a blessing on Matt's swiss army knife in thanks. Then it hurried away, speeding out into the night.

It was Monday morning, and eight kids -- ranging in age from four to eleven -- waited at the street corner for the school bus to arrive. Kristi, in fifth grade, was the oldest, wearing a black skirt and jacket with a neckcloth and a white blouse -- like a school uniform, even though they all went to public school and didn't have a uniform. She was talking to her best friend, a shy seven-year old named Adelaide, because Kristi was weird and most of the kids her own age avoided her.

"I was working on my new book all weekend!" Kristi told her little friend, who listened with quiet attentiveness. "It's got a dragon and a knight and a princess. The princess and the dragon are trying to rescue the knight -- "

Next to them, Jim looked up from the game he was playing on his smartphone. "What kind of dragon? Western, eastern, winged, not winged?" Jim was the wizkid, the one who knew everything, especially about computers and video games.

"Western! Green and scaly and HUGE and he shoots fire from the vanes of his wings, like a jet plane. That's how he flies," Kristi said.

Jim pushed up his glasses. "Actually, dragons breathe fire. It doesn't shoot from their wings. And they're too big to fly."

Kristi made a face at him, crossing her arms. "It's my story and he can fly in it if I want him to."

"Dragons?" Bobby piped up. He was only six. "I like dragons! Are they scary dragons?"

"No, the dragon is the good guy," Kristi said.

"Yay!" Bobby bounced up and down, while nine year-old Natalie clung grimly to his hand to keep him from running into the street in his enthusiasm. Bobby's mother paid Natalie five dollars a week to make sure Bobby got to school each day. Natalie and her twin brother Matt were with four year-old Wayne, too, because the twins were the sort of people parents trusted to be responsible. Wayne was wearing his Batman hoodie, as always, and wouldn't walk to the bus stop with his foster parents because 'Batman don't need help'.

Wayne had ... issues.

Nine year-old Mark stood a little apart from the other kids; he was the outcast, and even in groups like this where he didn't get picked on, kids rarely paid attention to him. He peered at them over the edge of his book, listening.

The bus rolled up to the corner and stopped, the door opening with a pneumatic hiss and a ka-chunk. Mr. Jacobs, the bus driver, gave the children a surly look. "No running," he started to say. Wayne dashed headlong up the steps, evading Matt's attempt to slow him. Mr. Jacob's arm swung down and caught Wayne by the throat like the hand of God. He turned the little boy's head towards him. "It's Monday, I'm tired, I'm hungover, and they don't pay me enough. So walk to your seat, sit down, and keep your mouth shut. Got it, Batman?"

Wayne blinked at him, and nodded. In silence, the rest of the kids filed into seats: Bobby near the front between Matt and Natalie, Wayne opposite them, Kristi and Adelaide in the middle, Jim across the aisle, and Mark near the back of the bus.

As the bus started up, Jim slouched down in his seat, playing with his Gameboy. "Hey, did someone see the Joker on the bus?" he asked loudly, without looking up.

Wayne jumped atop his seat and spun about. "Where?"

Mr. Jacobs slammed on the brakes. The bus jerked to a halt, causing Wayne to bang his head against the seat back. Without a glance to the toddler, Mr. Jacobs stumped back to Jim's seat. Jim slouched lower still, continuing to play his game. Mr. Jacobs hit the power button on it.

"Dammit!" Jim swore, then blanched as he realized what he'd said. "Sorry," he added, looking up at last.

"I don't care if you swear," Mr. Jacobs began.

From the front of the bus, Wayne's little voice piped up, "What does 'dammit' mean?"

"Now I care if you swear."

Jim said, "It means 'thank you'."

"It's a bad word. Don't repeat it." Mr. Jacobs glowered down at Jim. "And I care if you lie to little kids about what words mean. Or say things you know are going to provoke them into jumping around and getting themselves hurt on the bus." His pen scrawled across a detention slip. He handed it to Jim. "I'm giving the other half of this to the principal's office. Report there as soon as we get to school." Mr. Jacobs stumped back to the driver's seat. His fingers tapped longingly against the bulge of a flask in his pocket. The bus started up again.

In his seat between Natalie and Matt, Bobby was kicking his feet back and forth and humming to himself until he felt something wet and gooey dripping into his hair. "Hey!" Next to him, the older Matt turned around to see what was happening.

Scotty, the ginger-haired fifth-grade bully, was blowing his nose messily against the back of Bobby's head. "Cut that out!" Matt yelled.

"Make me," Scotty sneered.

Matt shoved the older boy back, hard enough to knock Scotty's retainer out. The mouth gear skittered down the aisle of the bus. Bobby jumped out of his seat and chased after it as it neared Kristi's seat. Kristi extended one foot and very deliberately stomped on the retainer. Then twisted. The device snapped with a satisfying crack.

Bobby picked up the two pieces and helpfully returned them to Scotty. "You dropped this!"

The older boy -- the biggest on the bus -- snatched up the pieces. "Who broke it? Did you break it, you little freak? I oughta break you -- "

Kristi jumped to her feet. "I broke it," she yelled. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Just wait 'til we're out of school, you weirdo -- " Scotty balled one hand into a fist.

The bus driver slammed on the brakes again. Kristi swallowed, reconsidering the wisdom of taking credit for breaking the retainer.

But Mr. Jacobs went straight for Scotty and Bobby instead. "What's going on back here?"

"He dripped boogers in my hair!" Bobby piped, pointing at Scotty. "He's a big meaniehead!"

"You whiny little brat -- " Scotty started.

Mr. Jacobs cut him off. "Look, kid. You're being a dick -- " the bus driver paused, suddenly aware of the littlest boys staring at him, wide-eyed and attentive. He cleared his throat. "He's being a Richard. Richard was a kid I always hated. Scotty, you may think you can get away with anything, but not on my bus you don't." He handed Scotty a detention slip and stumped back to the driver's seat.

The bully glared alternately at Kristi and Matt. "I'll get you two for this." Matt bore the threat stoically, but Kristi was worried. Boys didn't usually fight girls ... but Kristi didn't stand a chance if Scotty decided he was going to make an exception.

*

[This story is adapted from the tabletop RP Little Fears game that Randy Milholland ran Saturday night. I played Kristi. All other characters and the game itself are copyright their respective creators. Most of the events are directly from the game, but in cases where I can't recall what led from one event to the next, or where I felt that a literal translation of in-character events didn't properly capture the feel of the game, I've invented additional material.]