"When are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Eric asked for what felt like the millionth time since they left the DTE annex house. Roy and Eric were barely at the end of the long, windy street nicknamed Frat Row, and Roy's patience was thinner than the threads of moonlight peaking from the cloudy sky.
"When we get there," Roy answered between gritted teeth. There was no time to waste with details. Roy knew details were important—he just wasn't sure how much he could give the DTE without his head exploding all over the sidewalk. Asteria didn't have time to wait for Roy to pick up the pieces. "Just keep walking."
Eric wasn't as drunk as Roy worried he was when he burst into the DTE house like a tornado in rural Kansas. He braced himself for a stupid standoff of 'who do you know here?' and whatever other bullshit they'd come up with fretting over since he was alive. Instead—much to his relief—Eric already noticed Asteria was gone. Whether it was the threads of dread that lingered from the Dark Man, instinct, or Eric having a sliver of a sixth sense himself, he knew something was wrong. Asteria didn't simply ditch the party. It was easy for Roy to get Eric out of the door. But the moment he mentioned the graveyard, the protests began.
Eric dug his heels into the grass and stopped. "Do you really think I'm going to walk into a graveyard in the middle of the night with you? I don't even know who the fuck you are!"
Whirling around, Roy stuck his hand out. "The name is Roy. You are Eric. There, now you know who the fuck I am. Can we go now?"
"I still don't understand why you think Asteria is at the cemetery," Eric said. "I know some guys from TKD. Maybe she's over there. Let's just stop by and see if she's there. Or check her dorm."
"She's not there," Roy answered over his shoulder. As he said it, he reached for the mental connection that bound them—thankful for the first time ever of Asteria's stupidity in casting a spell—and prayed he would feel her on the other side. That this was all just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe the connection simply expired.
The hope fizzled out from under his skin like an opened bottle of Coke at the end of a party. He would've gone to the cemetery himself if it weren't for the fact that the Dark Man owned that hallowed space. Typically, cemeteries were of no consequence for ghosts. Many lived there. Others avoided them because of the things that also called it home. But somehow, in the midst of him rotting the university grounds for all these years, the cemetery turned into his own evil lair, and enslaved those who dwelled there to do his bidding. The moment Roy made his presence known, the Dark Man would be alerted. And if he didn't have Asteria, he would know she was vulnerable, and that would kill Roy all over again if it caused her any more pain.
Eric made a sound of protest, breaking Roy from his thoughts. Cursing under his breath, Roy conceded. "Check," he said. "But be quick."
Without another word, Eric ran toward a bright red house across the street. Roy held back the urge to follow him and turned his attention to the darkness of the cemetery looming a thousand feet away. Now that the rot was spreading through the cemetery, there were too many shadows to navigate. It would be the perfect place to hide Asteria.
Or trap her.
Or hide her, kill her, and then trap her soul. A cold bolt of fear struck his soul as he remembered the day on the beach. The Dark Man staked his claim on Asteria and vowed to destroy anyone or anything that got in his way. The creature's cold voice brushed his mind.
That is my starlight, he said. No one can harness her.
The only thing was that the Dark Man didn't harness starlight souls. He snuffed them out. Or at least tried to. That was one of the new things he remembered from the night he died.
Shivering, he shoved the thoughts out of his mind. He was no use to Asteria if he couldn't keep himself together.
"She's not in there!" Eric shouted. Skidding to a halt, he doubled over and wretched. "She's not in the house next door either."
Roy cleared his throat. "That's why we have to go to the cemetery."
"Do you think a cult took her?" There was no sarcasm in his voice. The genuine distress in his voice made Roy believe that he actually cared about Asteria. "I heard weird shit's been happening all over campus lately. And I mean weirder shit than normal."
Roy's stomach knotted. "Asteria thinks she's a Ghostbuster when she's drunk."
Eric's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"She's very serious about it."
"Is that why she was telling everyone at the party she could talk to ghosts?"
"She called me during the party and said he was going on an exhibition," Roy lied, pulling a cellphone from out of his back pocket. It wasn't a real phone; Roy was excellent at creating illusions and making people believe them.
"Let me guess, you're afraid of going there alone."
That was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in his life and death—and he'd heard some ridiculous things. He wanted to laugh, and then tell Eric to go fuck himself, and that he would fix this himself. But this wasn't about what he wanted. This was about need. And he needed to save Asteria. Swallowing the bitter pill that was his pride, Roy cleared his throat. "Y-yes."
"I get it, man." Squaring his shoulders, Eric stomped toward the graveyard with determination. "Let's go."
Roy watched him go.
Hold on, sweetheart. You're going to be okay.
* * *
I woke to a moonless night sky. For a moment, ignorance wrapped its blissful arms around my aching mind, and I reached into the darkness for a sense of how I got here.
But when I did, the darkness grabbed back, and the memories of Roy and Elijah crashed into me like the frothy cold waves of the beaches at Oracle University.
"Roy." His name tore from my throat in a sob. I watched some of his last moments. They poured so much alcohol down his throat. They dropped him into his dorm and he choked on his vomit in the middle of the floor.
And it was all my father's fault.
I knew this.
But to see—to see him torture Roy and those boys. To feel that rage and manic sadism at the hands of the Dark Man—pain shot through my temples.
Enough, my mind seemed to beg. Enough. I've had enough.
At this request, the memories faded, and my mind began to slow with my body. Sitting up, the world began to waver, and new memories rushed forward in undulating flashes of colors, sounds, and smells.
Eric and I were at the date party. I had one too many shots. I was drunk. Then and now.
And then—
Oh, no.
I looked around.
This was not the DTE backyard.
Sitting up, I pushed through vertigo to assess my surroundings. Dark, moist grass. Willowy trees hanging over symmetrical stone pieces. Headstones.
Oh, god. I'm in a graveyard. How the fuck did I end up a graveyard?
The autumn cold seeped into my tingling limbs. Using the headstone behind me for support, I climbed to my feet, buckling forward only a few steps before crashing to my knees. This wasn't right. I didn't drink this much. The wind moaned through the hollows of the stone and instinct told me to wait. I wasn't alone. And after a few breaths, I felt it: the touch of cold night against my immortal soul; the echoes across a vast plane of existence that brushed my mind; and finally, the same cold I felt in my room the nights I was attacked, and then in my father's mind, igniting the worst parts of him.
Shit.
I managed to get to my feet without falling over, though my knees were weak and my balance close to nonexistent. I staggered towards a row of lamps yards ahead of me. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe I blacked out and started hallucinating on my way back to the dorm. Bullshit, of course. I didn't need delusions. I needed to move faster and be more agile than my drunken body was capable of. Why? Because I was being watched. Something stalked the darkness that caged me.
"Roy," I gasped, searching for the golden cord that connected us. It was there. Faint. But there. "Help."
In the distance, the lamp lights began to undulate in the breeze, and I froze with fear. Those weren't lights. They were... specters. I didn't know how I knew this, but deep down inside, I felt the subtle buzzing from souls unable to take human form.
This was all wrong. This was all very, very wrong.
Roy, a chilling voice growled in my ear. Why do you call his name?
Whirling around, a wall of unnatural darkness towered behind me. Gradually, the darkness morphed into the silhouette of a man over seven feet tall with unnaturally long arms and legs. The pitch blackness of his body muted the yellow-white glow of the specters behind him as if he were sucking the light from them.
Maybe he was. The specters couldn't change because the Dark Man wouldn't let them.
And he wanted to add me to that collection.
"Stay away from me!" I screamed as I lunged to the side to narrowly avoid his outstretched hand. An invisible force shoved me to my knees, and I screamed again, thrashing against it.
You tell me to stay away, the Dark Man hissed. His voice grew louder in my ear. But then you beckon me, my sweet starlight. Tell me, why do you play these games?
Panic continued to bubble through my chest and I forced myself to breathe, searching the ground for any sort of weapon to protect me. My fingers brushed a small branch to my right. "I'm not playing any games! I don't beckon you! I actually want you to stay the fuck away from me!"
Sweet, starlight. His cold voice softened. I don't believe you.
The Dark Man towered over me, then. Through the gaps beneath his arms, I noticed the golden orbs hadn't moved. Desperate, I silently pleaded for the lights to help me. They couldn't.
I would need to save myself.
Without a second thought, I surged to my feet and swung my newfound club at his head—only for it to fly right through him. "Shit!" Plan B: run like fucking hell.
I barely made it a step away from him before the invisible force slammed into the back of my knees, sending me head-over-heels into the mud.
Starlight, my starlight, the Dark Man tisked. Why do you wish to hurt me?
The uneven ground digs painfully into my back. "Fuck you."
He grabbed my wrists and yanked me to my feet. His hands no longer felt cold. No, they were hot. Too fucking hot.
I made a grave mistake.
Literally.