Dead Letter Office, Parish Mail #1

Chapter: 5

Parish Mail is written like a TV series–there are over-arching mystery and romantic story arcs that extend between the episodes, while each episode has a smaller case that is presented and solved. Along the way,  the reader will get the opportunity to make several small decisions. These choices do not impact the overarching storyline, however certain combinations “unlock” clues to the series’ mystery, which are embedded in the text. 

At the end of the certain chapters, readers will get the chance to vote on one of two choices. The path that gets the most votes will get posted on Wattpad.  New chapters will be posted every Thursday. 

CHAPTER 5

Luc is pretending to be a dead person? Why? I stumble home in a daze and sneak in as quietly as I can. I’m grateful to see that my mom is asleep in her room, the door to mine still shut. A note taped on the knob tells me that my escapade went undetected. “So sorry I got home so late, sweetie!! Will make it up to you at dinner tonite. XOXO!!!” Three exclamation points. She must feel really bad.

I won’t have to get up for school for another hour or so. Just planning to rest my eyes, I fall into a deep, sudden sleep as soon as I lie down.

No gate this time, in my dreams. I’m floating like a ghost behind a young couple walking down a dark street. Hand in hand. The man stops to take a phone call on his cell, his girlfriend teasingly trying to interrupt him with kisses as he talks.

A man watches them. It’s the man I saw taking form outside the gate. I can see now that he wears something on his head. A crown? Yes, a crown of gleaming green metal. His evil surrounds him like a cloud. He eyes the couple. Prey. Why can’t they see him? I try to scream to warn them, but I have no voice, no body…

At school, I’m so tired that I can barely concentrate, but it’s Friday. I only need to make it through the day and I’ll have the weekend to catch up on sleep. And maybe, finally, get some answers. The letter, the dreams, Luc… It’s not just lack of sleep making me bleary.

I catch Tilly after History class. “Do you—um, know much about dreams?”

She listens eagerly as I tell her about the iron gate and the man with the crown.

“I don’t know who that man might be,” Tilly says, considering. “But the gate… My aunt Claire said on Halloween that something was coming.”

“I remember. Didn’t she mean the lightning storm and all the other craziness?” “Sort of. But all that was a symptom, caused by something else. I think that gate you dreamed of might be it.” Tilly’s completely serious.

“Sure. Makes perfect sense,” I joke, even though nothing about this is funny.

“The things you felt escaping–they were people, right?”

“Some of them. Others felt like…I don’t know, memories or something.”

“Imagine that the gate you saw isn’t an actual, physical gate. It could be a portal. The portal. Between our world and the next.”

What is she saying? “Between—”

“What if someone’s opened that door? Parted the veil? Call it whatever, that’s serious magic. Dangerous magic.” Tilly lowers her voice. “Burn-your-soul-out serious. The earthquake, the lighting storm, all of that? Nature rebelling at what should never have happened.”

“Okay, say that this is what happened,” I say slowly, although I don’t believe for a minute that it has. “Why would I dream about it?”

“I’m not sure,” Tilly answers. “Maybe you have a stronger connection to that world than most of us. We all have some connection, which means if the portal’s opened, we’re looking at a lot of trouble. The psychic impact of something like this is going to have nasty ripples among the living. The dead are, y’know, supposed to stay dead. But with the gate opened, some of them might be able to come into our world. The ones who are strong, and who want to, can become corporeal.” My mind reels as she talks. “Nighttime is when they’d have the most strength. Even with the gate open we shouldn’t be able to see them during the day. But at night—”