Shades Of Morality

Prologe/chapter 1

The rewrite of this book called "The Grave Keeper" is being posted right now on my page.

A small boy sat alone at a window looking out at the forest below.  A wolf pack ran across the road, racing back into the trees.

"Oh, a slow one," the boy committed.  As a straggler rushed to join its friends. 

It was common to see wolves in this town, especially further into the woods where his foster house was.  After all, the town of Silver Spruces was in the middle of one of the largest forests in the U.S.  Trees grew vast and wide, animals were everywhere, and the people were an odd, but hardy folk.

The boy got up and grabbed his coat on the way out the door; it was time to explore.
Shutting the door to the foster home, he ran down the path that lead through the forest.
It was a path he had walked many times before, but today was the day, he was going to go all the way down the track, he would see what was at the end.

What would be there?  A lake with sunken treasure?  Ancient ruins?  A pirate treasure in an ancient ruin at the bottom of a lake!

One thing he didn't wonder about was monsters.  He didn't need to look for them, no, they would find him all on their own.

He strolled down the path, whistling to distract himself.  The air smelled of fall, of dead leaves and dying plants contrasted by the bite of cold, fresh air and the scent of pine.  The boy loved this weather.  Overcast with a high chance of rain. Especially the way mist would try and hide part of the trees from passers-by, or how everything seemed to be a little quieter, giving the forest a secretive, mysterious air.  After about an hour of walking, the boy reached the end of the path.  It was none of the things he had fantasized; instead, there was an old, rundown wooden shack.

It didn't look like anyone had lived there for years.
'I should probably go back' the boy thought, 'It was getting late, Ronald and Linda would be getting worried-  well... no, actually they wouldn't. They never seemed to care where he went, and the door to the shack was slightly open'...

That, it turned out, was too much for his curiosity to take. He walked forward, the floorboards creaking as he stepped onto the porch.  He made his way to the door, it was already hanging slightly ajar, and a light shove was all it took to open it the rest of the way.  The inside was dimly lit with beams of light spilling in from a few broken sections of roof, the walls, and floor where covered in dust and grime.  The rest of the story was covered in an assortment of chairs, stools, and other furniture.  A small bed sat in the middle of the room. The boy took all that in at a glance because in the middle of the room sitting on the couch, was a pale, almost translucent woman. She turned her head and looked at him.

"Hello there, little one," She said in a voice like old worn silk.

She had an odd aura.  The edges were grey and dull to his eyes, and the rest of it was covered in a grayish-white tint.  She was a ghost.

"What brings you here all alone, little one"?

Alone. For some reason, the way she said that word scared him. It frightened him a lot.
"I-I'm not alone," Said the boy, his voice quivering.

The old ghost peered at him and seemed to be seeing right through him.

"Aren't you"?