Maybe it’s because things aren’t spooky to those who are already spooky?
I chuckle and try kicking the leaves again. The tip of my shoe actually catches one, sending it cartwheeling away. I do a little happy dance, complete with ill-timed hip shimmies and weird arm movements. Progress. The faster I figure out how to interact with the world of the living, the quicker I’ll be able to discover my unfinished business. Though I definitely need to dig up my missing memories first.
Still in happy dance mode, I take a few large prancing leaps down the path, breaking through the tree line and into a field. Now a heavy dose of spookiness hits me. Hundreds of tombstones line the wide space. Moonlight spills over them, casting warped shadows along the raised dirt. It’s ridiculous to fear the bodies below, but I still back pedal a little, unable to pull in a deep breath.
What is it about this that scares me? Where does our fear of dead bodies come from? Reanimation, maybe? An unnatural craving for brains? My imagination kicks into overdrive. If I found my remains, could I inhabit them again? Or am I irrevocably separated from my body?
I shiver at the thought.
Time to go. No reason to hang out in a graveyard contemplating existential questions. Don’t want to be too much of a cliché, right? The thought drives some of the creepiness away, and I smile a little as I spin back to the path leading to the school. My hand smacks into a hard chest and I look up to see the last person I want to accidentally hit.
Landon. Great.
Obviously, I’d poked the bear yet again. One of his temples twitches and he crosses his arms.
I cover my mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“What are you doing?” He squeezes the words out between clenched teeth.
“Oh, you know.” I wave a hand. “It’s the harvest moon, so I’m out to find some squirrels for sacrifice.”
Landon’s glower darkens.
I snort. “I’m joking. Just out for a walk. I only sacrifice squirrels during the new moon.”
One of Landon’s brows lifts, but I swear I see him fighting a smile. “For a ghost with amnesia, you’re taking all of this really lightly.”
“I like to deflect with humor.” I stroke my chin. “It’s better than shuffling around the afterlife under a gloomy little cloud.”
Any laughter there that might have lit up his face dies out. “This isn’t some joke to laugh about.”
Irritation rubs my nerves raw. Unfortunately, because Landon is taking the serious route, every ounce of immature rebel in me wants to continue egging him on. Excessive and inappropriate outrage does that to me apparently. I open my mouth to make another joke, but before I can get a word out, a familiar wail claws through the air and I flinch.
It’s the same combination of pain twisted with sorrow as before. Loud, deep, and weirdly distorted, it definitely qualifies as spooky. Landon lets out a strangled little gasp and I glance at him. His wide eyes sweep the trees above us. I follow his gaze to the thick shadow spinning between their branches.
Without thinking, I reach toward it. It’s in pain. I can feel it writhing through the air, so intense tears fill my eyes. For some reason, I’m not scared. More curious. The shadow screams again and tumbles in my direction.
Landon grabs my upper arm and hauls me away from it, swearing as he runs. I still don’t have a ton of control over my body — or spirit, I guess — so all I can do is let him drag me along, the toes of my shoes skimming the ground. He doesn’t stop until we reach the main building. Slamming the door shut behind us, he grabs both of my shoulders.
“What in the realm of the dead were you doing? You can’t interact with one of the Twisted, they’re dangerous.” His fingers tighten, pinching my skin, his eyes haunted.
“How?” I’m not sure why this is my first response, but the question pops out of my mouth before I can think it through.
Landon’s brows crush together. “They’re destructive. If you get too close, they can suck you inside their own torment so you can’t get out.”
“So... they turn you into one of the Twisted too?” I look over my shoulder, trying to get a glance out the window.
Landon lets go of my shoulders and crosses his arms. “Might as well. Get sucked inside, and nobody ever sees you again.”
“We don’t actually know what happens,” Kaz says, approaching from our left. As usual, he wears a smile and a sweater vest, looking like the star student at any academy he might attend.
I purse my lips, wanting again to ask about Haya’s roommate, but holding back for now. No one’s been super forthcoming about it, so maybe it’s too soon to poke that particular beast. I’ll have to do a little quiet snooping on my own. Maybe Rafe will want to join.
“Did you two see one out in the forest?” Kaz asks.
Shoving my fists into the pockets of my jacket, I nod. “Is that normal?”
Kaz’s grin falters. He and Landon glance at each other, but break eye contact fast. “Not much is normal around here,” Kaz says. “But on occasion, one of the Twisted does find its way to Locklear. Best to avoid them just to be safe.”
“Has anyone at Locklear ever gotten twisted before they moved on?” I ask, not sure if this is a push too far considering the way they’ve been acting.
Kaz speaks quickly, his words half running together. “Very rarely. But we’re late for dinner. Don’t want all the pizza to be gone, right?” He strides forward and Landon
