Woods Random Legacy: Chapter 55 - Blunt Force Trauma

As Leisure Day dawned on Sunset Valley, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  Forgoing his usual holiday plans, James declared that this season's party was just for him, and nobody else was invited.  So there.

He spent the morning swimming in the backyard pool, then relaxed and got some sun in the afternoon.  He had to admit that it was refreshing, not wondering what anybody else thought of him for just one day.

Omicron, who had ditched the house as soon as James started going on about nobody else being invited to his party, spent the first part of the day at the summer festival in the center of town.  The snow cone operator, aware that it was Omicron's birthday tomorrow, gave him a free purple berry snow cone as an early birthday present.

He soon got bored of the festival, and headed down to the ocean for a swim.  It was much more relaxing there, away from the noise and bustle of the town.

As the sun began to set, he headed back home to get the fireworks Epsilon had given him.  The fun wasn't over yet!

Nobody thought anything of the full moon slowly rising over the hills east of town.

Omicron was careful to remember everything Epsilon had cautioned him about firework safety.  Light the fuse, move quickly and carefully to a safe distance, cover your ears, and watch!

He grinned as he watched his display light up the sky, one of the first of the evening.  He wished that they sold fireworks during every season, instead of only summer.

The fireworks Epsilon had bought weren't the fanciest, but they shone just as bright as the rest of the displays now being shot off around town.  He'd have to remember to thank her again for that, when she got back after this term.

After he'd exhausted his supply of explosive entertainment, Omicron headed inside to get ready for bed.  He'd finished in the bathroom and had just shut his bedroom door when a loud thud came from the living room.  Shaking his head, he started to tug his shirt off, pausing when three more thuds came in quick succession.  What the hell was James doing out there?  He yanked his shirt back on and went to investigate.

As he was walking through the kitchen, a book whizzed past his head.  He only managed to dodge it by pure luck, certainly not any skill.  Frowning back at where it impacted the far wall, he called out.
"What the hell!  Stop throwing books around, I'm trying to get some sleep."

Another thud came from the living room, so he sighed and peeked through the doorway, immediately stepping back, his eyes wide.  A third - fourth, fifth, there was no telling how many had already been thrown! - book hit James on the shoulder, hard.  Beyond him stood a ghostly woman, but ghosts weren't actually real...were they?

As he watched, another book whizzed past his father, who dodged this time, and the ghost woman looked past the old man, her wicked smile growing as she spotted Omicron.  He stepped back against the kitchen island, unsure what to do, until he was distracted by a mewing and the sensation of something rubbing past his ankles.

He looked down to Epsilon's cat.  Was now really the time?  Something about the look in the cat's eyes drew his attention, though - an uncanny sort of intelligence.  Had the animal always looked like that?  Another thud came from behind him, and with another meow the cat turned and darted for the backdoor.  Omicron didn't think twice about following it.

Behind him, the ghostly woman raised a pointed hand, black smoke issuing from the tip of her finger.  James followed her finger, gasping as his feet left the floor as he slowly rose towards the ceiling.

As Omicron stumbled over the back fence, fleeing the house, a shout of fear was cut short by a crash.  He felt like he was going to be sick, but he kept going, following the cat.

It led him up the hill towards the family crypt.  Omicron fell down more than descended the stairs, his grip on the railing and center pole the only things that kept him mostly upright.  He quickly activated the lock and pushed the first door open.  But the second door seemed to be locked, no amount of pushing helping even as the cat slipped through the grating and continued into the catacombs.

Breathing heavily, he turned, sinking down into the corner in fear as he saw what had followed him from the house.
"I was only sent here to kill one tonight," she said, the otherworldly voice echoing in the stone chamber.  "But why stop at one when there's such a convenient opportunity right in front of me?  You could have inherited his...tendencies, after all.  Why take that chance, hmm?"
"W-w-why?"  He was shaking so badly that he could hardly get the word out, huddled as far away as he could get.
"Why?"  She laughed harshly, transparent lips curving into another cruel smile.  "Because he aided and associated with those who would be cleansed from this world.  That simply can't be tolerated.  Now, are you going to hide in the corner like a coward, or come face your death like a man?  Because I must say, it simply won't be any fu-"

She stopped short, her cocky grin melting into an expression of uncertainty as she stared past Omicron into the chamber beyond.  What had confused her soon became apparent as more ghostly shapes floated past the boy, taking up three guard positions just past the door.

The four ghosts stood there for a moment, sizing each other up, and then the lone male ghost laughed, a hearty laugh of amusement that echoed around the chamber for a few moments even after he'd stopped.
"What's so funny?" Omicron's attacker demanded, her look of confusion turning into a frown.
"The irony of the whole thing!  You, of all people, going along on this crusade."
She started to speak again, but she cut him off.
"Ohh, people talk.  Not to me, but to the wife, you see."  He guestured behind himself to the ghost standing with crossed arms.  "And we know aaaallllll about you, Myra Carter!  Every detail of your life, all the time you spent, ah, how did you put it?  Assisting and associating, that was it, with the ones you now claim to hate."

This was utterly surreal.  There was no way this was happening.  Who were these people?

"You're just so full of hate," the man continued, not letting the woman get a word in edgewise.  "Hate-hate-hatey-hate-hate!  And so you think that you can just barge through here and just beat up on whatever you want, because it makes you feel better.  And I'll tell you what, because this'll really make you mad.  You.  Can't.  Have.  Him.  Ha!"
The angry woman stammered, clearly flustered by this man, but he wasn't done talking yet.
"I know I'm more stubborn than you, so I could wait all night until you had to cross back over, but frankly I don't want to spend my night doing that.  Boring!  So I'll just go with this.  What would Frederick have said, hrm?"
The question had an immediate effect on the ghostly woman, recoiling back in horror.  Then, she let out a screech of frustration before shooting straight up through the stone ceiling.
The man dusted off his incorporeal hands.  "Well, she won't be back!"

Omicron stayed still as the ghosts retreated through the door, not entirely sure what had just happened.  As the man floated past him, a ghostly whisper reached his ears.
"It's a pull door, son.  You've gotta pull it."

He dragged himself to his feet, feeling as if he was in a dream, and pulled on the handle.  Oh.  He stepped through into the next chamber and looked around for any sign of the three ghosts, but the only one remaining was the one who the man had identified as his wife.
"Hello, Omicron."  She broke the silence, her voice gentler than Myra's, but still eerie.
"H-hello."  He was shaking, the adrenaline that had kept him going leaving his system.  "Please tell me I'm dreaming."
She shook her head.  "I'm sorry, you're not.  This - all of this - is really happening."
"What's happening?"
"The dead are crossing back to this realm.  We've always been able to observe, but now the barriers have been broken and our effect is more tangible.  It's a horrible thing, and should never have happened.  All the hate..."  Her voice trailed off as she shook her head sadly.

"Why are they doing it?  She said something about my Dad, and..."  He stopped talking there, fighting back the tears.  He hadn't liked the man, but he couldn't be happy about anyone dying, even if they were a bad person.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but he's gone.  He'll be with us soon.  I'll do my best to keep him from following the path of hatred, even with his death being so sudden and violent."
He was choking up now.  "I just left him in the house.  I should have stayed, tried to help."
"No."  Her voice was firm.  "There was nothing you could have done, except for what you did.  Only the dead can defend against the dead.  Stay here, until dawn.  Then you'll be safe, at least for the day."
He nodded.  "One more question.  Are you...my ancestors?"
A slight smile touched her lips as she nodded.  "Yes.  We will protect you as much as we can, but we aren't strong spirits, fueled by rage as the others are.  We can't stray far from our graves.  If you need aid, you must come to us.  And now, I must go, but we will be watching.  Until next time, my dear."

After the spirit faded away, he waited alone until he heard the first birds singing outside.  Only then did he stretch his stiff limbs and climb the stairs, exiting his family crypt into the world of sunlight.  He could hear sirens, but they were distant, nothing to worry about.  He began to trudge down the hill, shoes squeaking against the dew-covered grass.

Today was his birthday; with everything that had happened last night, he'd almost forgotten.  He supposed that his first act as a legal adult would be to make some calls, and officially add another casualty to what he knew would be a long list.

~ * ~

I don't know why I subconsciously hate Leisure Day.  It's just always unfortunately timed.

The third ghost who guarded the crypt is Crystal, who died a few days ago in-game.  James didn't care, so it never made its way into the story, but now you know.

For those keeping track, the Seer's prophecies from way back near the start of this generation have all been fulfilled now, possibly not in the ways expected.  I've been planning this for a long time.

Next chapter is the official beginning of generation 3.