The Wraith

Tommy was always wrekless when it came to driving. He would blast up through the hills and around the dangerous curves like there was no tomorrow. He had no regrets in pushing his skills and the car to the limit. His girlfriend, Susan, had tried just about everything, short of threats, to get him to slow down. She was scared to even ride with him anymore.

Tim, Tommy’s best friend, was almost as much a daredevil as Tommy was. Today was Sunday, the last day before they had to return to school for the senior year at Mountain Crest High. So the two of them headed to devils peak, the highest point in the area. It also had the most risks in the roadway. Tim was also a fan of sculpture art form. He had many items in his apartment. Birds, animals and the like. Today, he was planning on picking up a new piece after the drive. He had a friend making one of a well known race car driver that had died recently.

The first two curves were easy, almost no challenge. Tommy hit the accelerator and pushed the engine harder. The tires squealed as the struggled to hold the road. Tim held on for dear life as the car neared the edge of a cliff, tires sliding in the gravel and back onto the road. “Tommy slow it down, please” Tim begged. He had a bad feeling about this run and wanted out. Tommy just pushed the car harder, fish tailing all over the road now. He was on an adrenaline high now. Nothing could reach him, no words, nothing.

Tim reached for the key, trying to turn it off. Tommy slapped his hand away. For a minuet, this continued. Suddenly a curve ahead loomed too sharp to make at this speed. Tim cried out and grabbed his door handle. The car was not going to make this turn. Tim rolled over and over, scraping his arms and legs in the gravel trying to stop. The car and Tommy, shot straight over the cliff. Tommy never even hit the breaks. Sixty five miles an hour and a long arc to the floor below. A fireball shot a hundred feet into the air.

A day later, Tim woke with a start and with pain. He was in a hospital bed, bandaged from head to toe. Pain was all over his body, and seemed to dominate his senses. He drifted back and forth in a sleep state for a few hours. By nine pm the at night, Susan had come by and brought a small box with her. She smiled at him and looked as if she wanted to hug him, but didn’t due to his injures. Her makeup was smeared, as if she had been crying for a while. “The man at the store said your sculpture was read, so I picked it up for you. She paused to compose her emotions a little, “ I hope you didn’t mind.” Tim shook his head. “I hoped it might help cheer you up, with the loss and all.”

She opened it up and set it on the bedside table and turned back to Tim. “I got to get to work, but I’ll try to stop by again to check up on you. “ She managed a slight smile then and turned to leave. After she left, Tim turned to look at the sculpture, but looked confused. It wasn’t the race car driver he wanted, it looked like Tommy. What happened to the one he ordered and why did the guy make one of Tommy. In his anger, Tim knocked it off the table and it shattered into small pieces. He turned back and drifted off to sleep.

Tim twisted and turned in his sleep, the dream came at him over and over. He couldn’t shake it. He was in the car again, and Tommy was talking to him. Tommy said they were going to die together, as best friends. They were going to die his way, driving off a cliff. Tommy said he had planed it for months and Tim messed things up by jumping out. Now he was alone in the neither world, and Tim had betrayed him. He told Tim he had to set things right. He had to die on the same cliff as Tommy had. Tim shook and tossed until the nurse woke him. “You were having a nightmare Tim, its ok now. She smiled a friendly smile. She turned and got a glass of water and brought it to Tim’s mouth so he could get a sip and then placed it on the table where the sculpture was. It was intact, no breaks, no sign of being glued back together.

After the nurse left, Tim looked at the statue, wondering what was going on. The thought of Tommy blaming him for the death was too much. In his anger, he knocked it off again. He turned over away from the table as it broke. This time, the sound brought the duty nurse to check up on him. She asked what the crashing sound was. He said it was the sculpture he knocked off the table and he was sorry for the mess. The nurse looked at the table and shook her head. This caused Tim to look back at the table. The sculpture was still there, intact. “I don’t know what the sound was, but be careful please” she said and left the room.

Three days later, Tim dressed and got ready to check himself out of the hospital. He was ready to get away from this place and get his life back together. He decided not to take the sculpture home and stuck it in the trash can as he left the room. Susan picked him up out front, after all the paper work was done and took him home. His parent were still out of town and he had the place to himself. He would get this thing out of his system. He told Susan about the dreams and about the sculpture. She looked at him in disbelief. “You had to be dreaming, if it was intact when you put it in the trash.

Susan went in with Tim as he got settled back in. She walked into the living room and stopped. “Tim!!” she called out loudly. He dropped the bag and ran into the living room. Susan pointed to the corner table. The sculpture was there where a lamp use to be. “I thought you said you left it at the hospital”. Tim nodded and confirmed he had. He reached for it and carried it out side and while Susan watched, he smashed it to the ground, breaking it in a million pieces. They went back into the living room, and there it was on the table again. Both went back outside and saw that the broken parts were gone, no evidence that it had been broken.

Tim staggered back into the house. Susan was a little pale as well. “If I hadn’t seen you break it, I would never have believed it.” They both left the house and went to get something to eat. They took Tim’ car. It was similar to the one Tommy had died in. They went to the local burger joint and ate in silence. Neither knew what to do. It was creepy. Susan spoke up, “Have you ever heard of a Wraith, Tim?”

He said no, only the fictional type. She explained that they were suppose to be people who died before there time or were killed by someone. But neither seemed to fit this case. Then Tim told Susan of what Tommy said to him in the dream. She paled at this. She did not know what to do, or where to turn. This was beyond anything she believed could ever happen. They talked through the night, trying to decide what to do. Tim finally came up with an idea. He would take the sculpture to the cliff where Tommy died and toss it off. He believed that should end it.

They drove during the night to the area. In the darkness, fear was on Susan’s face. She was scared as to what would happen to them. She wondered why she, as Tommy’s girlfriend, she had not been part of his death wish. Not that she wanted to die or anything, but wanted to know where Tommy had gotten this idea from, to want to die with his best friend. It was troubling to say the least.

The reached the cliff just as the sun peaked over the horizon. The golden light lit up the cliff face and the gravel area. The guard rail was still broken where Tommy’s car had broken through. The pulled up beside the rail and got out of the car. Tim reached into the back seat and grabbed the sculpture and moved over to the edge. He reached back and through it with all his might. It sailed out and down in a long arc. Finally crashing on the rocks where Tommy’s car had landed. It smashed to white dust, blowing away in the wind.

They walked slowly back to the car. A voice spoke in Tim’s ear, ‘You haven’t done it yet, you have to die to be free, you have to join me, to win.’ Susan looked at Tim, standing there as if he were listening to someone, “What is it, Tim?” ‘You know what you have to do, you know we have to be together in death, the pact we made as children, come on and join me, it’s the only way to be free.’

Tim shook his head and ran for the car. Susan tried to stop him, but he just pushed her away. “I know what I have to do, you stay here”.

He got in and started the engine. He dropped it into reverse and backed away from the rail and floored it heading up the road. In less than a minuet, he cam flying back down the road, heading strait for the turn and the rail. Susan could not believer her eyes. She waved her hands, trying to get Tim to stop, but to no avail. He flew by her and through the same opening in the guard rail and out over the cliff. Tumbling to the rocks below, where he had thrown the statue just minuets before. A fire ball shot into the sky, and Susan dropped to her knees and wept for Tim. She had now lost two friends.

The police officer dropped her back off at Tim’ house so she could pick up her things and go home. When she walked into the living room, the sculpture was back, but different. A small plate on the bottom said, Tim and Tommy, Friends for life, together in death. Susan screamed and fainted. The officer rushed into the room at the sound and called for an ambulance.

Susan was never the same again, and when Tim’ parents came home, they saw the sculpture and heard her story. They were devastated at the news, but decided to keep the sculpture, as a memorial. Susan, could not stay in the town any longer and moved back east to spend her life alone, never getting close to anyone again. Tim and Tommy though, were together again, still as wild as ever.

Word count - 1907



Edited by - Finalday on 5/26/2005 10:28:21 AM

Nice one Finalday

An interesting story. But the narrative's a little dull. No dialogue, very little description. Try to give your characters some three-dimensionality.

Also, just a personal beef I have--the names. "Tim". "Tommy". "Susan". Bland. Homogenized. Blecch

Way out. Nice.

I repeat what I said. Terribly dull.

Then don't read wilde. The was my first attempt at a "horror story. As to names, I would not change them. I like simple plain names.

i like it!

"If im phased and can walk through stuff, then why am I not falling through the floor?"

No Gregorios, Cynthias, or Fausts. Eh, FinalDay?

i like it

pretty good; not very "terrifying" though

Death to the salad eaters!

Mike, Horror is just a term to describe some insane imagery, or just incredible tension feelable in the story, as you said, its my first, well, as youve gotten these critics, you can further your story on em, as well as your Horror-writing-experience. I haven't read the story, just read a flash of the critics.

your TLR stories were perfect for the matter, if you can combine the horror effect, or just the thrill with the style of writing you used for the TLR stories, I think youre a very good way on the track