The Attic – A Ghost Story, Parts VI – VIII & Epilogue - Sex Stories

The Attic – A Ghost Story, Parts VI – VIII & Epilogue

... scary ghosts go away, but we need their ashes. Without the ashes, they’re going to keep coming back. If you don’t tell me where they are, the ghosts will be back tonight, and tomorrow, and the next day, and so on. They won’t leave until we get the ashes. Just tell me where the ashes are.”

Bart was shaking, he was an utterly destroyed human being.

“They’re up at my camp up in the mountains. They’re in a pair of ziploc bags inside a shoebox that’s tucked in the rafters above the kitchen. I...I never meant to do anything bad with the ashes. I just figured if I didn’t bury them or scatter them, the twins wouldn’t be able to move on, they’d be stuck here….like...ghosts. I just never thought I’d actually see them. The camp keys are in my truck. Go get the ashes, do whatever you you need. Just make sure I never see...them… again.” He gestured towards the other room where the Helmsworth twins had gone.

“Do you know where the camp is?” I asked Angelina.

She nodded. “It’s about an hour north of town. I know the way.”

“Great, let’s get going then. It’s time to finally lay this mess to rest,” I said. Then I paused, turning back to Bart. “I forgot something,” I added.

“What?” Angelina asked.

I leaned back and cocked Bart hard across the jaw. His head bobbled to the side and I heard his teeth clack together. I think I might have broken one. He turned back towards me, his lips beginning to bleed, his eyes wide. I grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him bodily ...

... out of the chair.

“You ever even look at my wife and daughters again, I’m coming for you. That’s a promise, mister.”

We got dressed and piled into Lila’s SUV, leaving Bart sitting in stunned silence in his living room, his jeans and tighty-whiteys still around his ankles. The drive took just under an hour and the mood in the car was bubbly. We had solved this thing. We were putting the poor Helmsworth twins to rest. We were going to put a murderer in prison.

We done good!

Even Angelina, who was probably looking at least some heavy probation if things went her way, was upbeat. I guess when you’ve been carrying something like this around for so long, unburdening your soul is worth the penalty.

We made plans to stop at a bar on the way home to celebrate. Unfortunately, that’s not what happened...

Angelina guided Lila to an overgrown highway turnoff leading up a rocky, rutted, dirt double-track to a shack surrounded by miles of woods. There was a rough clearing about twenty yards wide with some patchy grass and puddles, and in the center a ramshackle cabin.

“I know exactly where to look,” Angelina said, hopping out of the SUV and heading towards the shack. “I’ll just be a minute.”

The rest of us climbed out of the car and took advantage of the break to stretch our legs, cracking lighthearted jokes about Bart’s housekeeping. I surveyed the mess in the yard. There was a pile of wood stacked neatly to one side, and that was about the only neat thing about the ...