The Suffering Souls 

		Nick fumbled with the combination lock on his lower locker for the third time.  He was never good at doing these things.  He would always have to turn the dial about a five or six times before he got the latch to open.  He would occasionally stop, and search through his mind, wondering if he was applying the right digits to the device.  After a few seconds of hesitation he would confirm to himself that it was indeed the correct digits. 10-3-12-6. He shook his head in frustration.  He began to attempt the procedure again. He turned it to the 10, right on the 10. Then the 3, he almost passed it up. He got to the 12. One more number and he'd have it.  He stopped to think for a second.  “I turned it clockwise then counter, then clockwise, so it’s counterclockwise this time.”  He was finally going to get the locker open, but he passed to far beyond the 6. He looked in horror.  Maybe it would still open, maybe.  He grasped the little metal handle and pulled up on it.  Sure enough, the latch had been triggered with the right combination and the door clicked open.  Nick sighed in relief. 
	Winsel wasn’t the most popular student of the senior class.  In fact, most would probably assume he wasn’t even a senior, but puny freshman. In fact some of the students, even the ones who did know him, had nicknamed him “Freshmeat”.    He was only 105 pounds, and stood about 5’1”.  His short black hair made him look even more youthful.  And his blue eyes, they were as blue as a spring time sky.  He’d never been the most important person in the school environment. He was never in any of the clubs, nor did he participate in any of the extracuriculum activities.  Nick never  had the fashion sense of others either. He wore simple shirts and blue jeans all the time.  He would also wear durable,  hiking boots that would last longer than the average Nike™.   Since it was the winter season, today he was wearing his blue jean jacket.  It wasn’t as fancy as the   sleek, brown leather coats,or as tough looking as the black leather biker jackets some of the guys wore.   Just a simple jean  jacket with buttons like those you find on  your jeans.  You could say that Nick was an individualistic person.  One who never conformed to the standards of others.  That was Freshmeat Nick. 
		He knew if he didn’t hurry he was going to be late to his Chemistry I class.  He dug through the unorganized pile of  text books, notebooks, binders, discarded pens and pencils and loose leaf paper to find the chemistry book.  It was the one with the picture of a beaker on it and a thermometer, with elemental abbreviations wrote everywhere in the background.   He grabbed it, but it banged the edge of the locker and he dropped it onto the floor.   It was no problem though, he  picked it up and slammed the locker door shut.  He probably only had a couple of minutes to get to the other end of the school where the chemistry lab was.  He quickly  bolted for the stairs leading down to the main floor.  A couple of other people were around, not many had classes up on the top floor. It was reservd for foreign languages and business classes and most of those were already in class or were also  running behind time somewhere else in the building.   Taking the steps two at a time he hoped he did not fall.  He smiled when he hit the bottom of the stairs and turned to go down the hall where his class was at the end.   A running walk is the only way to describe his motions as he hurried down the corridor. A door open just to his left and a girl stepped out, he was moving to fast to of noticed her and stopped. He slammed into her. And he fell backwards, dropping his chemistry book once more.  The  girl had some books in her hand but she was able to hold on to them.  Nick desperately snatched up his book, and turned his sights to the person he’d ran into.  She was not that bad looking. Her  brown hair flowed down her shoulders like liquid beauty.  Her green eyes were bright and memorizing.  The pale complexion of her creamy white skin was  attractive to Nick.  She was wearing a  dark blue tank top, and  dark forest green  khaki pants that stopped abover her ankles.  A silver chain hung from her neck with a pendant on it.  The  ornament was some Celtic looking symbol.  He realized he’d been staring at her for over ten seconds, without even blinking.  The girl was smling at him, and her rose lips were smooth and didn’t poke out obscenely like some girl’s did.  
	“I’m sorry, I was in a hurry, I didn’t meant to,  I mean meant to hit you.” He attempted to apologize.   The girl begin to make a slight giggling sound. 
 		
“It’s ok, it was half my fault for rushing out of the door so quickly. I’m Nadine, who are you?” she asked very sociable.  

“Well, I’m Nickolas Winsel, I’m mean Nick.” He said stumbling over the right words. 
“Nice to meet you Nick, I haven’t seen you around, are you new here?”
“No.” he said, answering the commonly asked question. “I’m not new….just not very well known around school.” He confessed.  
“oh, I see.” Nadine said. “Well, maybe  we’ll see each other around, later.” She said and started to walk off toward the direction in which Nick  had came from. 
“Yeah, maybe.”  He said half under his breath.  Then he realized the bell was soon to ring for the final period of the day. He quckly resumed his walking run down the hall.  
		
		He made it into the doorway just as the electronic bell blared out over the PA system.   Hoping Ms. Calentine wouldn’t mark him tardy for not being seated by the time the bell rings.  She didn’t even notice him coming in late.  Sometimes it was fairly decent to be one of the more unnoticed people.  He took his seat in front of the class and prepared for the lesson Ms. Calentine was going to lecture on today. 
		But his thoughts ran astray that hour.  Something was on his mind that he had not paid much attention to before.  Now it seemed to take over his thoughts and became a sudden obsession to think about.  If only he could be somebody special. It didn’t have to be the lead quarter back, or the  best lead guitarist in the best local band, or not even the smartest nerd in the entire school.  He just wanted to be noticed when he walked in a door. He wanted someone to say “Hey, there’s Nick!”  or “Hey, it’s Nick, how’s it going, pal?”  it would just be something very important to him if someone, anyone, would say his name in a positive tone of voice. And not “Fereshmeat Nick”.  He was fed up with all that.  He didn’t want to be that person anymore. Something new was building up inside of him. Maybe something that had laid dormant for a long time was finally awakening inside of him.  The beast was tearing free from the cage of oppression.  Then his thoughts were ripped away from him when someone tapped his shoulder. 
 “Hey you, Ms. Calentine is calling you.”  Nick looked back to see Reggie Morganson. The guy had been his chemistry class the entire semester and he’d had him in other classes, and the guy still didn’t know his name!
		He stood to go speak to the teacher, Ms. Calentine.  She was sitting behind her desk grading papers.  She was one of the ugliest teachers in the entire building.  At 43 she  already had completely gray hair, and a wrinkled face. She was pudgy around the belly, and her arms were loaded with flab.  She would wear those big granny glasses that covered almost the entire face with the big round frames.  And the perfume she wore smelled like rotting fruit.  Nick thought she probably over did it when she applied the stuff.   And when he had to stand beside her while she shuffled through papers, the smell became almost unbearable.  

“Nick, you missing an assignment.  What happened to your report on chemical pollution of the Earth’s water supply?”  

“I turned that in, Ms. Calentine.”
“Well I don’t see Mr. Winsel.   And if  I don’t see it, then I don’t see a grade. You know what means, Mr. Winsel?”
“I’m telling you Ms. Winsel, I turned that report in.”
“I’ll double check, but I don’t remember  receiving one from you.”  Not only was she ugliest, she was one of the  strictest.  She gave no one any mercy.    Nick returned to his seat and his thoughts came back to haunt him for the remainder of the class. 
		      The next thing that broke his thoughts was the bell. That electronic blaring noise that made you want to cover you ears with  some ear muffs. 
		When he began walking through the halls, he looked for Nadine.  He was hoping he’d catch a glimpse  of her.  He never saw her, or anyone he thought may have been her.  Opting not to take his books back to his locker, he headed for the exit.  The closest way out from his current location was at the far end of the hall pass the stairwell he’d came down earlier.  He made no enthusiastic attempt to reach the door in a hurry.  He would get out just by walking.   
		Outside was  long steps that crept down into the dirt ground.  The path led out to the parking lot.   Nick’s beat up old ’89 Chevy Celebrity. The pain job was rusted and peeling, and the trunk wouldn’t open due to a jammed something or other. None of the gauges worked properly and you had to estimate how fast you were going and how much gas was left.  The radio worked if you didn’t mind listening to crackling static  over all the music.  The windows would barely roll down without getting hung up, and the a/c was gone.   As Nick walked to his car, he noticed a few guys standing by an old tree across the parking lot.  They were wearing black t-shirts, with black jeans, and they looked as pale as ghost.  The Celebrity was parked right next to the tree on the left side.  Nick didn’t recognize the guys as anyone he’d seen around the place. Maybe they were worst off than he. When the looser-nobody didn’t know someone, it must of meant those people were even more pathetic.  Fumbling around inside his pocket he found his key scattered amongst the change and other loose articles in there.   In the time it took him to find the key, he’d made it across the asphalt lot and was standing next to his car.  The key punched into the slot and he turned it. 
“Hey Nick!” a voice called.  Nick froze, his hand halfway to the clicking point on the key.   He looked up at the three guys who had been standing by the tree.  

“Hey Nick, how  is it going, pal?”  the tallest one said.  He was wearing a headband that held his long hair behind his eyes.   And his eyes were a dull silvery.   

“What, who are you?” Nick asked stunned that the guy he didn’t know was calling him by name. 
“it’s me Derek Frazer” the boy said in a monotonous voice. The guy’s speaking tone was creepy. He had no passion in his tonicity. 
“Do I know you?” Nick asked puzzled. 
“Sure, you know me, we were friends back in the day.”  Oh that explained Nick thought.  This guy knew him from the old days.  He must of meant elementary school.  Nick didn’t recall a lot about his younger school days, ‘cause they were about as depressing as these recent few years.  He was always getting shoved around by the larger boys, and picked on because he was smaller.  Derek must have been one of those so-called friends he had.  
“So how’s it been, Nick?”  Derek asked.  Nick was snapped from his reminiscence of childhood.  
“Oh, it’s been ok, I’m fine.”  Nick stated in a matter-of-fact way.
“That’s good pal.” Derek took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with a lighter he  conjured up in his other hand.  
“Me and the guys were thinking about going out tonight, have some fun, care to join us,Nicko?”
Nick suddenly felt a chill go down his spine.  No one had called him “Nicko” since he was a little boy.  How this guy from his past remember that?
“Umm, well you know I really gotta’-“
“No you don’t, your coming with us buddy. You’ll like the boys. We always have fun.”
“Well…” Nick hesitated for a moment. “Ok, sure.” 
“Good, good.  We’ll pick you up  sometime later, just be ready when we arrive.”
“Ok, sounds alright, good, yeah, real good.” He fumbled over the words he wanted to use. 
 “Then later pal.”  Derek turned and walk away.  The other guys had all pulled out cigarettes and were puffing away.  Nick got into his car.  He hadn’t told them where he lived, that was his escape plan out of the awkward situation.  His car wouldn’t start as always when he turned the key in the ignition.  He cursed it silently  On about the third try it caughed, choked, and spat out a puff of exhaust fumes and the engine jumped to life.  He sighed another  time in relief that day. 

That evening he arrived home to find a note from his mother on the inside of the front door window.  She had written it to inform her son that she was working late this evening.   He decided to go do his homework and then curl up with a good book for the rest of the day. 	
		After he broken the last pencil in frustration caused by the trigonometry homework, he thought a bath would do him good.   Since it was almost 8:00 he thought he’d might as well take a shower anyways.    Walking over to his dresser he grabbed some new boxers,  a long shirt, and some  shorts.   
			In the bathroom he twist the knob for the hot water on the sink, and padded his face with shaving cream.  Grabbing a razor blade he quickly slid it down his skin and removed the cream along with the ruff bristles of regenerating hair.    Then turned to the shower door and pulled it back, stepped inside and shut the door.  It was cool inside the shower chamber, but not for long.  Nick rotated the  shower knob control and then spun the hot and cold knobs to a comfortable setting.   The water sprayed out with a great force and slammed into his body.  It ran down the skin like droplets of hot sweat.   He noticed a scar on the underside of his wrist.  
“What the hell?” he asked himself.   “I wonder what happened there?”  he   disregarded it as anything important and continued  washing.   When he had finished lathering himself and cleansing the soap away from his flesh,  he reached to turn the water flow off.  His thoughts returned to the same as before.   He began wondering why he was at home this Friday night.  Everyone else was probably out partying or whatever they do on Fridays.  He cursed himself for being so foolish.  Then a plump droplet of blood fell from the shower nozzle and splashed onto the drain. He awoke from his thoughts, and the droplet never existed.  His mental processing had taken over the reality around him. Shaking his head, he got out of the shower as fast as he could.   He dried off standing in front of the sink, and grabbed the clothes he had gotten earlier and threw them on.   Then went to leave the bathroom. But the door  slung open right in his face and Derek stood behind it. 
“What in the hell?” Nick blurted. 
‘Hey, easy pal,  your not going out like that are you?”
“How in the hell did you know where I lived?”
“You’ve  always lived here.” Derek said. It was true. He had lived here all his life. From the first day of day care to the days of puberty and the recent years of high school. 
“Yea, I guess so.” Nick said. 
“Go get some clothes buddy.”  Derek said.  Nick shrugged.  He had just been complaining about not being out on Friday, and now he was   annoyed that [i]someone[/i] wanted him to go out.  But he didn’t resist.  He went and threw a pair of pants on and his  Bass™  walking boots.  
“Sorry about giving you the scare man, but no one was answering the door. Didn’t want you missing out on all the fun.”  Derek  explained as they walked to the front door. 
“Ehh, it’s ok, I guess.”  
“So that’s your car?”  Derek asked looking at the Chevy Celebrity in the  lot outside. 
“Yeah, that’s mine, not much.”  
“An ’89 Chevy Celebrity. It was probably more aesthetic pleasing in ’89.” Derek commented.  Nick smiled.  He hadn’ t smiled a a joke in awhile.  Maybe this would be an alright night.  Derek’s car was parked out by the driveway.  It was a sleek, black 1993 2-door,Cadillac Deville.  Even though it was only a few years younger than his own, Nick thought this was as good as new.  It had no scratch marks, the paint job was perfect condition and the engine seeming to be purring like a kitten.  
“You ride shotgun, Nicko.” Derek said, jumping into the driver’s seat. Nick popped  open the passenger door.  He slid into the  smooth leather seats.  The dashboard was jet black, with a fancy digital sound system inserted into the middle. There was all sorts of neon lights on it and digit displays.  The other to guys who Derek had been with earlier in the parking lot, were riding in the backseat.  They still wore their black shirts and jeans, but now had thrown light jackets over it all.  
“This is Jason Westwon, we just call him Jase” Derek nodded toward the one sitting on the opposite side than he.  He was about Derek’s height; 5’7”, and looked to weigh about 130-40#s. 
		“Let’s get this show on the road, Dere.” The other guy shouted. 
    “That’s  Jeff Degan, an impatient little bastard.”  Derek chuckled. 
“I’m just saying I’m ready to get this show on the road.”  
“In due time.” Derek said. Putting the car into drive.  They were on their way   onto the main highway in no time. 
“So where do you guys go  for fun, anyways?” Nick suddenl asked. His curiosity and the dreadfull silence had provoked the outburst. 
“We go to the fun places.”  Jason said.
“Yeah, the best and the only places to go for fun.”  Jeff added. 
“Where is that?” Nick probed further.
“The Graveyard.”  Derek added almost before Nick could finish his latter question. 
“The graveyard?” Nick asked with wide eyes. 
“Yeah Nicko, haven’t you ever been to the graveyard at night?” Derek asked. 
“No.” Nick said with a lump in his throat. “We can’t go to the graveyard.”
“Why not?” Jase asked.
“I think he’s scared, Dere.”  Jeff  taunted. 
“Nah, he’s not scared, just a little uneasy. Most people don’t like being in the graveyards.”
“What is so fun about graves?” Nick asked. 
“It’s where a lot of interesting people hang out, if you know what I mean.” Derek said. 
“you mean the dead?” Nick said bluntly.

“you could call them that.”
“They may be an unlively bunch, but they’re good party animals when you  get’em going.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked. 
“You’ll see.” Jase said. 
		The rest of the ride was an uneasy one. Nick didn’t know why, but the idea of going to graveyard was freaking him out. It wasn’t that he was afraid, it was something more sub-conscious.  Something in  his mind told him the graveyard was not the right place to be. Something….something inside of him told him not to go to the graveyard.  But they went anyways. 
                                      Derek’s door opened and Nick opened his to step out as well. Jase and Jeff crawled out from the back seats.   Nick looked at the iron  fence that imprisoned the cemetery.  An iron gate with a sign reading “Centerstone Cemetary”  hovered in front of them. 
“How do we get in?” Nick asked, hoping there wasn’t a way in. 
“Easy, we just slip through the bars.”  Derek said approaching the gate and slipping through the widely spread iron bars.  “See.”
“Yea.” Nick said  in a calm tone.  The tone masked his true inner voices that screamed not to go in. But he did.   Inside was rows of tombs, stone crosses, stone tablets in the ground, and statues.   The grass was brownish and dying in some spots.  
“What are we going to do now?” Nick asked.
“Simple.” Derek said.  “I’m going to help you out buddy.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked. 
“Your loosing it Nick.”  Derek said. 
“Loosing what?”
“Your  consciousness. Your beging to fade away. I bet the voices are there right now.”
“What?”  Nick asked.
“You know Nick. The voices, the one’s that still want you to believe your one of them.”
“One of who?”
“Like Jason and Jeff.”  Derek said.  The other two guys were still at the car, smoking some cigarettes.  
“That’s why you went back to school. You thought you were one of them.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” 
“Nick, your no longer part of that world. You belong here. With me, pal.”  Dereak noticed Jason and Jeff were coming.  He took out a switch blade knife from his pocket.  
“Hey, Derek, you ready?” Jason asked coyly.
“Ready for what?” Nick asked. 
“Well,” Derek smiled. “Plans have changed Jason.” 
He walked over to Jason and took him by the arm.  
“What the hell are you doing?” Jason asked. 
“I’m helping a friend.”  Derek said.  “Don’t worry though, your helping too.”
“What’s going on?” Jeff said. 
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Derek said.  He slit a bloody line down Jason’s wrist. 
“Holy fucking shit! You cut me! You fucking asshole!”  the blood shone  brightly with the rising moon’s beams reflecting off of Jason’s pale skin.  Nick saw the blood and it flooded his mind, and creamy flesh. The scar on his wrist…he’d done that.  He’d cut himself for the blood….
“I think…” Nick said. 
“I knew you would.” Derek said. 
“Your goddamn crazy!”  Jeff said, he turned to run. But Nick stood in front of him.
“God how long has it been?”
“About a month, pal.” Derek replied.   Nick grabbed Jeff and bite into his face. 
“I got these two off the street. Won’t no one miss’em.” Derek said.  
“Good.” Nick said.  Licking the warm blood from his mouth and crunching into the facial bones. 
Jeff was screaming as he grabbed his bloody, chewed face.  
“What the fuck is going on?!”  Jason asked backing away.  He was light headed and stumbled.
“We’re ghouls.”  Derek explained.
“We need human flesh and blood to stay alive.”  Nick added. 
“My friend Nick, hasn’t had a good meal in awhile. His mind was starting to decay.”
“What about that note on his door from his mom?” Jason asked. Kneeling to catch his breath, and trailing blood the whole way. 
“His mother died right after Nick crawled up from the grave. I guess no one’s take the time to remove that note from the door.”  Derek said.  
“Ahhhh! God stop it!”  Jeff screamed as Nick hungry tore his flesh apart with this bare hands.  Blood and pieces of skin were being  removed like mange on a dog.  Nick’s teeth bared sharp pointy, teeth and his fingernails had become hard, sharp claws.  He ripped and shredded with a brutal  fury of hunger as he devoured the young boy’s body.  Jason watched in horror.  
“Aren’t you going to eat?”  Nick asked Derek.”
“Nah, I had a lovely girl for diner right after you left school this afternoon.”  
“Oh shit, I would have loved to eat her…”  Nick said drooling blood down the corners of his mouth.

			The End