Lance held his breath in dreading anticipation. The Lost Souls moved him from the chair and lay him on a mattress. His hands and ankles were handcuffed to the metal bed rails. Lance shuddered as their hot breath clouded his face.

The ringleader chuckled. “You try my patience Bass. Let’s see how resistant you are once we’re finished with you.”

“Suppose I do know where this gem is. Why don’t you read my mind and dig out the information?”

“You’re putting a block on your mind. You’ve mentally covered the information with the façade of I’m-clueless,” the kidnapper explained matter-of-factly. For once, they were wrong, for Lance really was clueless.

The questioning began. “Lance, where is the gem?”

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly sharp spasms stabbed his body. Lance’s back arched in pain. His nerves writhed agonizingly. “AAAHHH!” Lance screamed, “STOP!”

The spasms stopped. “Now,” the leader growled, “Are you ready to talk?”

“Y-yes.”

“Tell us where the gem is located.”

“Uh…well…I…um…”

“Fine, have it your way.”

More pain-inducing spasms sent electric currents through his body. “AAAHHH!” Lance moaned in his misery, “Stop…” But the agony increased. Lance gasped for breath and screeched as another sharp jolt stabbed him.

Finally, the torture lessened to a dull throbbing. “Lance,” one of the Lost Souls sneered, “If you were smart, you’d give up the secrecy.”

Unable to take any more pain, Lance spun a temporary plan. Using his mind, he put up an imaginary brick wall to block his thoughts. “It’s…it’s…” Gotta think of a city! “New Orleans,” he uttered weakly, blurting the first name that came to mind.

The Lost Souls whined excitedly. “He…said…the…city…”

“Shut up!” Their leader barked, “If what he says is true, then we are one step closer to resurrecting the Master.”

His lips curled into an evil grin. “Lance, we are teleporting to New Orleans.”

Blinding flashes of light exploded. Lance’s bones and muscles chattered, teeth gnashing together. His body zoomed forward. His organs tightened.

And suddenly…

They arrived at their terrible destination.

CHAPTER NINE

Justin and Chris remained paralyzed in sheer terror. Their screams caught in their throats. At first, because of the darkness, the figure that leaped out of the closet appeared to be a shadow man. The shadow man was close to 8 feet tall, with a lurching walk and raspy breathing.

Panicky, Justin sputtered, “Who are you?”

It breathed heavily. “Your…worst…nightmare…”

Cat-like, it crawled quickly towards the two men. Chris leaped out of the way as Justin rolled to the floor. The shadow man leaped onto the wall, scuttling sideways until he jumped onto the ceiling.

“Holy,” Chris gasped, then screamed as the shadow man pounced upon him. Immediately, Chris became weakened. His attacker started glowing. Chris realized he was unable to fight, for he couldn’t move his limbs.

Justin watched in horror. What should I do? What’s happening?

Footsteps pounded down the hall. “What’s going on? What’s all the yelling about?” Lonnie and Todd shouted.

The shadow man bounced off Chris, crawled onto the wall, and dissolved into the wallpaper.

Lights flicked on. Lonnie and Todd, two of Nsync’s burly security guards, stormed into the dressing room. They observed the strange scene. Justin on all fours, trembling, and Chris lying on the ground, deathly pale and very weak.

Wasting no time, Lonnie helped Chris to his feet. “Are you okay? Did someone attack you?”

Hesitant, Justin described the unearthly figure. It was no surprise when their rescuers looked skeptical. “You mean to tell us a giant shadow man who defies all the laws of gravity came and evaporated into thin air?”

Chris coughed. “Can we go back to the hotel?”

Todd glanced at his partner. “No use in giving such a weird description to the police. All right. Stick together.”

As they exited the room, Lonnie called out. “By the way, where’s Lance?”

“Sick,” they responded in unison.

CHAPTER TEN

JC curled up beside the phone in Lance’s apartment. Johnny brought him a mug of steaming coffee. “Here, drink this. You sure you don’t wanna try and get some sleep? I can stand guard.”

JC sipped the hot beverage. “No. Every time I close my eyes, I see Lance…and…and I think about what those monsters might be doing to him.” He bit his lip to fight tears. No Chasez! Don’t lose it! You need to be strong.

Johnny gave him a reassuring hug. “Pal, analyze the situation logically. These guys can’t kill Lance until they’ve got this gem, right? Supposedly Lance withholds all information to its whereabouts.”

“But why didn’t Lance mention a gem to us?” JC asked, “If he knew there was an object containing powers able to alter Whispers in such a manner, then why did he act so calm?”

Johnny shrugged. “Could be they’re mistaken.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe Lance doesn’t know of a crystal. Or maybe this is a cover for something else.”

“Like what?”

“Beats me. I honestly don’t believe his kidnappers are demons. But hey, there’s no doubt that their motives are strange and very sudden.”

The telephone rang. Nearly spilling coffee into his lap, JC gripped his sweaty fingers around the phone. “Hello?”

“Good evening, JC. Sorry your concert was a bummer, but I thought you’d enjoy having my minions and I in the audience.” JC’s heart pounded. “So Justin did see you.”

“Bingo. Trust me, it won’t be long before the others catch on. With a little assistance, Lance finally squeaked.”

JC’s knuckles paled to milky white. “What do you mean? What did you do to him?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just a little device the Master used 300 years ago to force people to convert. He taught us the trick. Anyway, you and Johnny are to fly to New Orleans.”

“New Orleans?!”

“Yes. Pack now. At 11:30 pm the airline is shuttling a late flight to Baton Rouge. From Baton Rouge Airport, rent a car and drive to New Orleans. You will arrive at around 8:00 in the morning. Questions?”

Summoning up all his courage, JC demanded, “Let me speak to Lance!”

The Lost Soul laughed. After scraping and kicking sounds, a deep, shaky voice whispered hoarsely, “Jace? Jace?”

JC gripped the phone tighter. “Lance! Lance buddy, are you okay?”

Mmph. Muffled sounds. Feet dragging. The leader returned on the line. “Now that you’ve spoken to him, will you obey?”

“Do I have a freaking choice?” JC muttered grouchily, “I wanna speak more with Lance!”

“I’m adding a new rule to our arrangement. No demands! Unless of course you insist on speaking with him again, but then that will make you the last person to hear him alive…”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! No demands. Fine.”

“Then we’re good to go?”

“Yeah. One last thing. What’s your name?”

“Does my name really matter?”

“I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”

“Wick. The name’s Wick. See you in New Orleans.”

Click. The dead dial tone buzzed in JC’s ear.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Gandor stood contently outside a nightclub. The bright neon lights, partying, and booming music seemed to blend well with Joey’s character.

Those idiots still haven’t figured out that I’ve possessed Joey. Yeesh. I’m getting tired of pretending.

Actually, Gandor hadn’t come to the club to party. One block away, Ramona Moselle wandered aimlessly on the street. She had no place to stay, and she still remained unsure of her purpose in the whole mess. Gandor smirked. Oh, it would be so delicious when Ramona discovered her true identity and the real meaning behind the abilities she and Lance shared.

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. His watch alarm signaled time to move.

Everything about Gandor’s plan stood in absolute perfection. Ramona was too smart and too special for her own good. In a few moments, Gandor would ‘accidentally’ intercept her.

***

Ramona stuffed her hands into her windbreaker pocket, shifting the weight of the duffel bag onto her upper shoulder. Somehow, she knew something important lay on this abandoned street, but like all her gut premonitions, it didn’t tell her what.

She veered left at the street corner and continued walking. Being the only human and sight and with all the dark buildings boarded up, Ramona felt scared, the kind of fear that generates with profound loneliness.

Ramona was a Moselle. She did not cry under any circumstances. She used her wit. But that night, the tears unwillingly sprung to her eyelids. Where do I go?

Suddenly she saw it. A warm, yellowish light gleaming from a distant store window. Hurrying, Ramona ran towards the light until she stood in front of the huge glass window.

The brick building was an old-fashioned bookshop, bordered by two street lamps at the wooden door. On the glass, decorated by ornate red letters, the sign read TRYSTAL’S BOOK SHOP. Happy to have found shelter, Ramona tentatively climbed the 3 stone steps and entered, listening to the shop bell ring over the door.

Luckily, the warmth of a heater accented the homely atmosphere. Reddish wallpaper, two leather couches, a desk, several lamps, and hundreds of books lining the shelved walls. She collapsed on the couch in the middle of the room, resting her duffel on the round oak coffee table. A creaky door in the back opened and shut. An old man strolled in with an armload of books. “Oh hello. Didn’t expect a customer so late.”

Ramona studied the old man. White hair. Glasses. A slightly crooked back, which accounted for the cane he carried. He can be trusted.

“Hi,” she greeted, “I’m not a customer, but I…”

“Need a place to rest and some advice,” the owner finished, startling Ramona. “But how…” she inquired, yet before she completed the sentence, he said, “Did I know you were coming? Well, Ramona Luana Moselle, looks like we both have explaining to do.”

He knows my name! Hmm, how much can this man be trusted?

“Come with me,” he coaxed, “I promise that I mean you no harm, only help. You’re hungry. You’re tired. You feel you don’t understand what you’re doing in Philadelphia.”

Ramona carefully followed him into the back of the store. There, she walked into small, worn yet cozy living quarters. A bed in the corner. A tiny kitchen and table to her right. A TV, radio, and chest to her left. The old man gestured to the table. “Sit down, my dear. I’ll make a sandwich for you. While I fix your dinner, you’ll tell me why you’re here and if my theory’s correct.”

Ramona removed her coat and sat down, her feet gratefully thanking her for the rest. Deciding he figured she was homeless and probably nutty anyway, she slowly told of Lance, the gem, and the ghostly demons.

The old man didn’t regard her with pity or amusement. He brought her the plate and a glass of milk, taking a seat across from her.

“Peanut butter and jelly okay?”

“The kind of gourmet cooking I got at home.”

He watched her bite ravenously into the sandwich. “My name is Andrew Trystal. Ramona, I do believe your story is true.”

She swallowed the milk. “You do?”

“Yes. Sweetheart, not only am I a bookstore owner, but also a historian. Not professionally, just a hobby. Still, I take all my hobbies seriously. I’ve studied the time period that you speak of. Records do account of a town called Whispers in the late 1600s. Mysteriously, it vanished. While it’s not as famous as Roanoke, mind you, I found myself intrigued by the legend. That led me to study neighboring towns to see if they had any clues to what happened.”

He swallowed. “The town that helped the most was Celtic River. Five years ago, I traveled to Maine, found the village, and took a few books and journals. After reading through one particular journal, I was certain I’d discovered the secret.”

Ramona frowned. “Whose journal did you take?”

“A woman named Sparrow. The journal writing lasted well into her early thirties. According to the entries, her younger brother belonged to a secret society owned by the church, a society skilled in combating demons. Supposedly one powerful demon tried to possess the town. Her brother drove him out, and the demon moved to the closet settlement, Whispers.”

“Who was this demon?”

“Sparrow called him the Master. The last entry stated that he’d kidnapped Emily, her young daughter, and she was going to find her without telling her brother. It’s quite a complicated tale.”

“Tell me more about Sparrow.”

“Well, she was a very nice woman who came from a respectable family. She married William Critton when she was 20, until he died eight years later, after she gave birth to Emily. She was just as adamant about fighting demons as her brother was.”

“Did it say her brother’s name?”

“Yes. Kaden Bass.”

Ramona choked on her sandwich. Andrew continued. “She and Kaden were very close. He married her best friend, Nalani. Then, the demon came and turned their world upside down. The demon’s minions killed Nalani and their daughter Tara. After that, Kaden and Sparrow used some sort of gem to attack the Master. Half the gem belonged to Kaden, and the other half belonged to Sparrow.

When you put the halves of this “gem” together, it becomes powerful.

Once the Master fled, he took Emily with him. Apparently he wanted Sparrow to sign the “devil’s book”, or be converted, and that was basically a version of ransom.

For reasons unknown, Sparrow left without telling Kaden why. She left him her half of the gem, then simply vanished.”

Andrew sipped water. “Well, I wish I learned more, but I’m afraid that’s all.”

Ramona chewed the last of her sandwich thoughtfully. “How do you think because the Master possessed Whispers, the town disappeared?”

“Demons possess many powers. If he wanted to hide Whispers’s existence from the world, he could’ve done so.”

She yawned. “Now that I’ve had a crash-course history lesson, I’m at least slightly enlightened. I need to talk to Lance, because he knows the other half of the story.”

“I’ll bet he doesn’t know Sparrow and Kaden were related,” Andrew said.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But that’s not what matters. How does this explain me and my connection to Lance? Heck, we’ve never even met!”

Andrew shrugged. “Tonight I’ll search the internet.”

“The internet?”

“I’m also skilled in discovering family trees. If we find your family, perhaps some questions will be answered.”

Ramona stood. “Do you have a shower I can use?”

“The door by the bed.”

Andrew listened until he heard the shower water running. When he returned to the bookshop, he found the shop girl, who he’d hired a week before, sitting at the desk.

“Honey,” he said in surprise, “I thought you were asleep upstairs.”

“I heard voices,” Honey replied, “And since I’m having trouble sleeping, I decided to come down and look over our bills.”

Honey had wandered into the bookshop, homeless and in desperate need of a job. Taking pity upon her, Andrew rented her the room upstairs and gave her a job. Honey proved to be reliable and hard working. Her exquisite beauty was a turn-on to male customers. Tall. Slender figure. Silky auburn hair down to her waist. Almond-shaped blue eyes. Creamy complexion. Full lips. And minus the moon-shaped birthmark on her forehead, her beauty mirrored perfection.

Honey cleared her throat. “If that girl is going to sleep in your bed tonight, you may use mine. I plan to stay up.”

Andrew retreated upstairs. Honey drummed her fingers on the desk. Ugh, he’s late. He should arrive in 5,4,3,2,1…

Joey Fatone waltzed through the door. Honey snickered. “Gandor, you love making grand entrances, don’t you?”

“Of course. Is Ramona here?” Honey flashed a devious smile. “We’ve ensnared her brilliantly.”

“Good,” Gandor concluded, “Boy, you are as clever now as you’ve been for 300 years, Emerald.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Justin and Chris ran out of the hotel elevator and dashed to JC’s room. Once they reached the door, Chris halted, forcing Justin to slam into him. “What’s wrong?”

“We won’t be able to ask JC what the heck’s going on.”

“Because?”

“Because he and Johnny shipped off to New Orleans!”

“Excuse me?”

Justin shoved Chris aside. The note taped to the door read: ME AND JOHNNY HAVE GONE TO NEW ORLEANS. LANCE HAS GONE WITH US. DON’T FOLLOW! JOHNNY’S CANCELLED ALL APOINTMENTS.

Chris grit his teeth and screamed in frustration. “Don’t follow? New Orleans? J, you’re right. Lance is not sick, and I’ll bet you 10 to 1 that this has something to do with Whispers.”

“Doesn’t everything lately?” Justin grumbled, but Chris easily saw he was worried. “Do you think something’s happened to Lance?” Justin asked frantically.

Chris shivered. “It would make sense as to why JC’s been acting weird. What do we do? Follow or stay?”

“He must’ve had a reason for telling us to stay in Philadelphia.”

“But that could’ve been to protect us. Maybe we should go.”

“Then what? Hide out like fugitives?”

“Don’t ask me!”

“Chris, we’ve gotta stay. To keep up appearances. The public will soon see something’s not normal.”

“Let’s get a little sleep. You look like you need it. There are bags under your eyes and you’re moving more lethargically than a zombie. We can figure out what to do in the morning.”

“Good night.”

“Pleasant dreams.”

“Please.” Justin pulled out his room key and shut the door behind him. Although he’d never complained, Justin had been having nightmares about Whispers every night since their terrible ordeal. It’s not fair. Everyone else is getting along fine. I can’t go through life feeling afraid.

Showering, brushing his teeth, and changing into pajamas, Justin curled up on the bed. As soon as his head hit the cool pillow, he fell asleep.

Big mistake.

continued