Redwood || AHS: 1984

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE LADY IN WHITE

I sit on the picnic table between Helen and Xavier, who stands with his arms crossed over his blue mesh shirt.  I pick the skin around my nail beds awaiting whatever the townie assholes think is so urgent.  The larger one, Trevor mistook as Mr. Jingles several years ago, came barreling into the former boys cabin, requesting everyone within the camp to meet together for some unknown reason.  Now we all sit waiting for them to show up.

Sloane and Chet are having idle conversation to fill the silence.  I pay no attention to what they are saying.  It could be about aliens invading the Earth, and I still would not care.  The only thing I really want to discuss with anyone is how to kill Margaret.  While I do not agree with Montana's rule of killing everyone that steps foot into this camp, it is the only way we can both get what we want

Sounds of grunts comes from somewhere in front of me, and I pick my eyes up.  The townie assholes shove Mr. Jingles to the ground as a groan escapes his lips.  His hands and feet are bound by ropes, which makes it harder to find a comfortable laying position on the dirt.  The assholes walk to stand behind Harrison on the other side of the table.  Montana emerges from where she is standing behind the tree and shakes her head distastefully.  She flips the knife in her hand as she scoffs, walking closer to the helpless killer.

"You left this place.  And to willingly come back?"  She circles around him with a scowl on her face.  She stalks towards the picnic table and stops below Xavier, turning her head to look back at Mr. Jingles.  "Well, that makes you even more deranged than we thought."

"He gave me no choice."  Jingles seethes through his teeth.  "You need to let me go.  I came back here to kill Richard Ramirez."

This piques my interest as no one has seen the Night Stalker since the night we were murdered.  I lean forward to rest my chin in my right hand.  My eyes narrow in on him as my lips purse.

"But he's already dead."  Montana's voice comes out softer than before.  "I saw you murder him."

Jingles shakes his head once.  "Ramirez has the devil on his side, and he's on his way back here now."

"Who gives a shit?"  Ray exclaims as a single piece of straw hangs loosely from his lips.  "This motherfucker cut off my head."  He points a long finger at Mr. Jingles as he strides towards him with poor intentions.  "He needs to answer for that."

Jingles ducks as Ray prepares to strike him, but Montana stops him by shouting his name.  She proceeds to threaten him with a smug smile, knowing she will jump at the chance to gut him again.  I lose interest in the conversation.  It clearly isn't going anywhere of importance.  I huff and lean backwards so I am propping myself up with my forearms.

"I don't understand."  Jingles voices softly.  "You're-you're all ghosts?"

Xavier uncrosses his arms as his face turns sour.  "Are you brain dead?  You killed half of us here, remember?  You and Margaret are both psychos, and we got caught in your crossfire.  None of this makes any sense."

Xavier continues to explain what it means to be a ghost stuck here in this camp; however, I am stuck on a certain string of six words.  For once, he admits to none of this making any sense: why we're stuck here, how to escape, why time doesn't matter to us.  Perhaps he isn't too far to reach after all.  

Jingles props himself up on to his forearm.  "What does being a ghost feel like?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"  Remarks Sloane with an uninviting tone.

Montana pinches her, which causes the brunette to yelp.  "It's actually not that bad.  There's a constant feeling of emptiness and longing, but that's pretty much how I felt when I was alive, so..."  She trails off.  Her voice growing quieter with each word spoken.