Sean Paul Murphy, Writer

Sean Paul Murphy, Writer
Sean Paul Murphy, Storyteller

Monday, June 18, 2018

CHAPEL STREET - Chapter 9 - War Is Declared


Here's another sample chapter of my paranormal thriller Chapel Street. Keep checking back for more!


Chapter 9

War Is Declared

Gasping for air and still shaking with fear, I became a man with a mission upon leaving the mausoleum. I refused to be manipulated like that again.
Elisabetta Kostek, whoever or whatever the hell she was, had already taken up too much of my time. I was going home to delete the photos of her from my camera and hard drive, and then I would delete her memorial from Resting Place. I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else looking into those dark eyes. Especially Teri. She had already expressed too much interest in Elisabetta after I mentioned her. I was tempted to call her and reiterate my warning, but I knew I couldn’t. She would think I was crazy, and that would be the end of our budding friendship.
When I got to my car, I found a slip of paper under the windshield. I picked it up and read it.
Never come back.
The mourner obviously wrote it. There was no one else around. But what did he mean?  Was it a threat or a warning?  He left no signature or phone number. I wish I had written down his license plate number. Anything. He obviously knew something, but he was long gone.
I got into my car and headed out, passing our family plot along the way. As I did, I caught sight of a guy standing near the graves. From the familiar hunch of his back, I knew it was Lenny visiting mom’s grave. I looked ahead again, thinking nothing of it, but then it struck me:  Lenny was dead. He had never visited mom’s grave because he died before she did. I hit the brakes and turned back to the grave. Just as I suspected, no one was standing there, but it was too real to just be my imagination. My eyes went to the nearby willow tree, which swayed in the light breeze.
“Probably just a shadow,” I said, reason restored again.
I was tempted to back up to see if I could repeat the optical illusion again, but I decided against it. I feared the implications if I was unable to repeat it. It was one thing to have a bad dream. It was another thing entirely to see your dead brother in broad daylight. I was now willing to admit that something supernatural was taking place, but I didn’t want to press the point. I just wanted to get my world back to normal.
While driving home, a great hunger overcame me, despite just having eaten a full meal with Teri. I ordered a super-sized Big Mac meal and a cheeseburger at the McDonald’s drive-thru near my house. The previous afternoon, the pictures of their food made me nauseous. Not today. I took it as a sign that my new resolve had broken whatever spell the dark woman had placed on me. I was free.
I ate the cheeseburger on the way home, but my fries and Big Mac were untouched as I entered my apartment. I carried the food over to my desk and sat down. I turned the monitor on, fully expecting to find Elisabetta’s image on the screensaver looking at me. In fact, I was hoping to see it, but instead, I found a random tombstone photo for one of the memorials I had created. I used the mouse to dispel the screensaver then turned my attention to my Big Mac. I took a bite. It tasted great. Putting the sandwich down, I went to my cemetery folder, where I kept my Resting Place photos. I knew the Kostek memorial was on the two most recent files:  DSC_0591 and DSC_0592. I clicked on the second one to bring up the close-up of her face. She was still smiling in the face of digital death.
“Say, bye, bye, bitch,” I said.
While I reached for the mouse again to do the deed, I took a big gulp from my Coke. As I did, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I had just taken a bite out of the Big Mac, exposing those little onions they used—except they weren’t onions. No. They were alive and wiggling. I turned to get a better look and realized that they were maggots. Tiny little maggots, and I had eaten them!
I immediately vomited everything out over my keyboard, mouse, and monitor. In the process, I spilled the rest of the Coke, too. I immediately jumped out of my chair and headed for the bathroom. This wasn’t a paper towel spill. This was a bath towels spill—plural. By the time I raced back to the desk, there was already a large puddle of Coke and half-eaten food on the floor. I dealt with the desk first. The electronics in the keyboard were toast. No question about that. I unplugged it and tossed it directly into the trash. As I sopped up the sticky liquid and half-eaten food, I turned to the now drenched Big Mac. Just as I expected, there were no maggots. It was just another mind game, and I knew who was responsible.
Now I finally put aside my rational preconceptions and admitted to myself that I was involved in some sort of supernatural warfare. The hows and the whys and the parameters of the battlefield were still a mystery to me, but at least I knew the name of the enemy:  Elisabetta Kostek. Everything started when I took that picture of her. No, I corrected myself. I think it started when I looked at her. That’s what seemed to trigger it.
Whatever.
It didn’t matter how it started anymore. I was going to end it.
I dropped the towel and turned my attention to the mouse. I didn’t need the keyboard to delete those files. When I touched the mouse, the cursor moved. Good. I moved the cursor to the close-up file and clicked on it—or should I say I tried to click on it. Although the mouse still moved the cursor, the right and left buttons no longer worked.
“Damn it!” I shouted as I unplugged the mouse and tossed it in the trash.
The monitor turned black, and the screensaver started. Not surprisingly, I was greeted by the smiling image of Elisabetta Kostek. Actually, it was surprising. I set my screensaver to start five minutes after I last used the computer. This time the screensaver started only a few seconds after I unhooked the mouse. I took her appearance as a little show of force to prove that she had the power to manipulate more than just my mind. She could manipulate my electronics, too. Unless, I thought, I was only imagining seeing her on the monitor now.
Yikes. What was truly real?  There was a lot to consider, but I didn’t have time to wade into those weeds now. It was time to take offensive action.
“How you doing, Liz?” I asked with a smile as I turned back to the monitor.
I grabbed my camera and turned it on. I found her picture on it and turned the view screen around to the monitor.
“Recognize her?” I asked.
I pressed the little trash button on the camera. A dialogue box came up over Elisabetta’s close-up. Are you sure you want to delete this photo?
“Yes, I do,” I said aloud. Then I pressed the trash button again. The photograph was gone, and the wider one of the grave itself appeared in its place. Two quick presses on the trash button made that photograph disappear as well.

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I half-expected to hear a faint ghostly wail of pain in response, but my actions were greeted by cold silence. Elisabetta herself even left the monitor. The screensaver replaced her with a photo of my mother, my father, Lenny, and me taken before my sister Janet was born. A superstitious person might have taken the photo as a warning that I would soon be joining them, but I wasn’t spooked. Now that I knew what I was battling, I expected a quick victory.

Other Chapters:
Prologue - My Mother
Chapter 1 - RestingPlace.com
Chapter 2 - Elisabetta
Chapter 3 - The Upload
Chapter 4 - The Kobayashi Maru
Chapter 5 - Gina
Chapter 6 - Tombstone Teri
Chapter 7 - The Holy Redeemer Lonely Hearts Club
Chapter 8 - A Mourner
Chapter 9 - War Is Declared
Chapter 10 - The Motorcycle
Chapter 11 - Suspended
Chapter 12 - The Harbor
Chapter 13 - Bad News Betty

Learn more about the book Here.


While you're waiting for the next chapter of Chapel Street, feel free to read my memoir:



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