SPOOK ME FIC: Burying Secrets (Oz, PG-13)
I wrote not one, not two, but THREE stories for the Spook Me fest this year! I don't think I've written anything since last year's Oz Magi, so this was quite the accomplishment. Two of them are for fandoms I've never written in before, so... braving new territory here! I'll be making each fic a separate post, because my OCD tells me to. Heh.
First up... Oz, which is also the story I'm most pleased with.
Happy Halloween, my friends!
Title: Burying Secrets
Main Characters/Pairings: Tobias Beecher/Chris Keller
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,671
Creature Prompt: Skeleton
Summary: Chris tries to bury a secret, when past secrets come to bury him.
Notes: Written for the 2021 Spook Me Mult-Fandom Halloween Ficathon. Cross-posted to AO3 and Dreamwidth. The artwork prompt used for the story is included at the end.
______________________________________
The last remnants of a hot and muggy summer were fading into fall, and Chris drove with the windows down. The cool evening air felt good as it passed through the car, and the dull white noise of the rushing wind helped calm his frayed nerves. He could still hear the engine making that faint rattling sound, but he wasn’t worried, not yet. The border was closer than ever.
Occasionally, he would glance over at Toby, fast asleep in the passenger seat. The breeze ruffled his hair, and the frequent bumps in the road jostled him. Still, he slept.
Chris sighed. He loved Toby. He really did. He honestly couldn’t imagine living his life without him. But sometimes… Sometimes, he was just too much. Too much worry, too much talk. Way too many questions.
"Where were you, Chris? How’d you get all this money? What's the shovel for? Why is there blood on your shirt?"
Toby needed to relax. He needed to let Chris handle things. And Chris needed peace and quiet so he could concentrate.
Which explained the Valium he'd slipped into Toby's drink at lunch.
The lonesome two-lane highway was bordered mostly by long stretches of farmers' fields. Corn. Wheat. Soybeans. But every now and then, Chris would pass a familiar landmark that verified their whereabouts. A rickety old barn on its last legs. A bright red grain silo. A small apple orchard.
Eventually, they reached the edge of a forest. Before long, Chris spotted the sign, a half-rotted board nailed to a tree. The words on it were illegible now and the arrow had faded into nothingness, but that didn’t matter. He knew where he was.
He turned right and drove a short way up a narrow dirt lane, not much more than a trail, really. Off to one side was a small clearing, hidden from the highway's view by a cluster of trees. He pulled the car over and turned the engine off.
Chris coughed loudly into his fist, twice, then leaned into Toby’s space. "Hey, Beech," he called out gruffly. He gave Toby's arm a firm shake.
Toby continued sleeping, dead to the world.
Chris smiled. He got out and shut the door. The sun hung low in the sky, drawing long, cool shadows out of the trees. His timing was perfect.
He opened the trunk, pushed the body aside, and took out the shovel. Then he began hiking toward a nearby hilltop, to a secluded spot where the trees were dense but the ground was soft.
When he got there, he started to dig.
*~*~*
An hour later, Chris had had enough. He stepped out of the hole and thrust the shovel into the ground. It was time to go back to the car and retrieve the poor, dearly-departed Lamar, a street-corner homeboy who'd had a lot of cash, a lot of drugs, and no friends. Lamar had made many poor choices in his short life, but placing Chris in his confidence had undoubtedly been the worst.
The setting sun threw a fireball of orange and red into the sky, and Chris felt a sudden sense of urgency. Digging a grave had taken longer than he remembered. He wasn't sure how much time he'd have before Toby woke up and started asking more questions.
Brushing the dirt from his clothes, he turned to make his way back down the hill. He took a few quick steps, then stopped dead in his tracks.
For there, lurking in a break between the trees, stood the figure of a skeleton, looking right at him.
Maybe it was a strange first thought, but Chris wondered where the party was. Because surely, this person had been on their way to a costume party when they’d taken a wrong turn and gotten lost. Chris wondered if they’d seen him digging, if they'd seen Toby and the car.
He wondered if he’d remembered to close the trunk.
They stood there, staring at each other. The longer it went on, the less Chris liked it. It occurred to him that his hole wasn't big enough for two bodies.
He was about to say something, anything to break the chilly silence, when the skeleton stepped forward. As it moved out of the shadows, orange rays from the sun broke through the gaps in its bones, and its eyes changed from dark depressions to glowing circles of sunlight. It slowly dawned on Chris that what he was looking at couldn't possibly be a person in a costume. It couldn't be a person at all.
The skeleton raised a bony hand and pointed a solitary finger directly at him. Overcome with the foreign feeling of vulnerability, Chris longed for a weapon, something he could use to protect himself. He remembered the shovel and took a cautious step backward.
The skeleton countered with another step of its own.
Suddenly, the shadows of the forest shifted. More mysterious figures materialized around him, more pairs of glowing orange eyes pierced the air. Chris wondered who they all were, where they'd all come from. It was as though his hilltop secrets had been exhumed and brought to life.
His heart started to race as the shapes closed in. He backed up quickly, his hand reaching for the shovel and grasping nothing but thin air. Then his foot slipped on the loose earth at the edge of the grave, and suddenly he was falling backward, down into the hole. He landed with a thud, the crown of his head hitting something hard.
Chris looked up. For a split second, he saw the crowd of figures surrounding the hole, looking down on him, the skeleton front and center. Then a flash of bright stars appeared before his eyes, obscuring the view.
A primal scream filled the air, and Chris's blood ran cold. As a wave of disorientation descended over him, it occurred to him that the noise sounded vaguely like Toby.
It was the last thought he had before everything went black.
*~*~*
When Chris came to, Toby was standing over him.
It was the edge of night, and it took Chris a few seconds before he could determine exactly where he was. He was in the forest, sitting on hard ground, propped against the side of the car. His clothes were torn and covered in dirt.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes and worked hard on focusing them. He looked up at Toby and watched closely as he unscrewed the cap from a plastic water bottle.
"Drink," Toby commanded, calmly handing him the water. The expression on his face was unreadable.
Chris took the bottle and did as he was told. The cool liquid helped dampen his anxiety as well as his thirst. Slowly, his senses returned and his brain began to work again.
"What happened? How’d I get back here?"
"I dragged you," Toby replied. Then he held out his hand. "C’mon, we should get going."
But Chris didn't move. "We can’t go, not yet," he declared. "We still gotta get rid of Lamar."
Toby raised an eyebrow. "Lamar? Who the fuck is Lamar?"
Chris stumbled to his feet, spilling water everywhere. "The stiff in the trunk," he answered grimly.
Toby turned his head, looking warily in the direction of the open trunk. He slowly made his way to the rear of the car and glanced inside. Then, with a frown, he looked back at Chris.
"There's no body in here."
"What?" blurted Chris. That couldn't be. He took several fumbling steps over to where Toby stood to see for himself.
Sure enough, the only thing lying in the trunk was a shovel.
He stared at the emptiness, his mouth agape. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Toby shake his head dismissively before reaching up to slam the trunk shut. Shock gave way to paranoia, and Chris turned on Toby.
"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" he snapped.
Toby leveled his accusation with an icy stare. "Who's fucking with who?" he mumbled under his breath. A long moment passed between them, then Toby's features softened. He held out his hand again.
"The keys," he requested quietly. "You’re in no shape to drive."
Chris suddenly felt tired, very tired. In his heart, he knew there’d be no reason for Toby to be fucking with him, not over something like this. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, and he dug into his pants pocket, pulled out the keys, and handed them over.
They got into the car, and Toby glanced sideways at Chris. "You should drink the rest of that," he told him, nodding toward the water. "It’ll make you feel better."
With an unsteady hand, Chris drained the bottle and positioned himself for a long drive. He just wanted to rest. His head hurt, and he was so desperately sleepy. But he was so confused, and he still had so many unanswered questions.
"Did you see all those people? Where'd they come from? What did they want? Where'd they go?"
Toby started the car.
"Who screamed, Toby? Was it you? Was it that skeleton thing? Do you think that thing was Lamar?"
Toby hesitated, then turned to look directly at him.
"You know what, Chris?" he said slowly. "You ask too many questions. You need to relax. You need to let me handle things." His mouth twisted into a sly smile, and he added, "And I need some peace and quiet so I can concentrate."
As the Valium kicked in, the water bottle slipped from Chris's grasp and fell to the floor. Realization snuck into the last bit of his consciousness. He watched wordlessly as Toby put the car in gear and drove out of the clearing and onto the highway.
Just before the drug pulled him under for good, Chris focused as best he could on Toby's face. Maybe it was just the reflection of the lights from the dashboard, or tricks from the moonlight, but it looked like Toby's eyes were a glowing bright orange.
THE END
First up... Oz, which is also the story I'm most pleased with.
Happy Halloween, my friends!
Title: Burying Secrets
Main Characters/Pairings: Tobias Beecher/Chris Keller
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,671
Creature Prompt: Skeleton
Summary: Chris tries to bury a secret, when past secrets come to bury him.
Notes: Written for the 2021 Spook Me Mult-Fandom Halloween Ficathon. Cross-posted to AO3 and Dreamwidth. The artwork prompt used for the story is included at the end.
______________________________________
The last remnants of a hot and muggy summer were fading into fall, and Chris drove with the windows down. The cool evening air felt good as it passed through the car, and the dull white noise of the rushing wind helped calm his frayed nerves. He could still hear the engine making that faint rattling sound, but he wasn’t worried, not yet. The border was closer than ever.
Occasionally, he would glance over at Toby, fast asleep in the passenger seat. The breeze ruffled his hair, and the frequent bumps in the road jostled him. Still, he slept.
Chris sighed. He loved Toby. He really did. He honestly couldn’t imagine living his life without him. But sometimes… Sometimes, he was just too much. Too much worry, too much talk. Way too many questions.
"Where were you, Chris? How’d you get all this money? What's the shovel for? Why is there blood on your shirt?"
Toby needed to relax. He needed to let Chris handle things. And Chris needed peace and quiet so he could concentrate.
Which explained the Valium he'd slipped into Toby's drink at lunch.
The lonesome two-lane highway was bordered mostly by long stretches of farmers' fields. Corn. Wheat. Soybeans. But every now and then, Chris would pass a familiar landmark that verified their whereabouts. A rickety old barn on its last legs. A bright red grain silo. A small apple orchard.
Eventually, they reached the edge of a forest. Before long, Chris spotted the sign, a half-rotted board nailed to a tree. The words on it were illegible now and the arrow had faded into nothingness, but that didn’t matter. He knew where he was.
He turned right and drove a short way up a narrow dirt lane, not much more than a trail, really. Off to one side was a small clearing, hidden from the highway's view by a cluster of trees. He pulled the car over and turned the engine off.
Chris coughed loudly into his fist, twice, then leaned into Toby’s space. "Hey, Beech," he called out gruffly. He gave Toby's arm a firm shake.
Toby continued sleeping, dead to the world.
Chris smiled. He got out and shut the door. The sun hung low in the sky, drawing long, cool shadows out of the trees. His timing was perfect.
He opened the trunk, pushed the body aside, and took out the shovel. Then he began hiking toward a nearby hilltop, to a secluded spot where the trees were dense but the ground was soft.
When he got there, he started to dig.
*~*~*
An hour later, Chris had had enough. He stepped out of the hole and thrust the shovel into the ground. It was time to go back to the car and retrieve the poor, dearly-departed Lamar, a street-corner homeboy who'd had a lot of cash, a lot of drugs, and no friends. Lamar had made many poor choices in his short life, but placing Chris in his confidence had undoubtedly been the worst.
The setting sun threw a fireball of orange and red into the sky, and Chris felt a sudden sense of urgency. Digging a grave had taken longer than he remembered. He wasn't sure how much time he'd have before Toby woke up and started asking more questions.
Brushing the dirt from his clothes, he turned to make his way back down the hill. He took a few quick steps, then stopped dead in his tracks.
For there, lurking in a break between the trees, stood the figure of a skeleton, looking right at him.
Maybe it was a strange first thought, but Chris wondered where the party was. Because surely, this person had been on their way to a costume party when they’d taken a wrong turn and gotten lost. Chris wondered if they’d seen him digging, if they'd seen Toby and the car.
He wondered if he’d remembered to close the trunk.
They stood there, staring at each other. The longer it went on, the less Chris liked it. It occurred to him that his hole wasn't big enough for two bodies.
He was about to say something, anything to break the chilly silence, when the skeleton stepped forward. As it moved out of the shadows, orange rays from the sun broke through the gaps in its bones, and its eyes changed from dark depressions to glowing circles of sunlight. It slowly dawned on Chris that what he was looking at couldn't possibly be a person in a costume. It couldn't be a person at all.
The skeleton raised a bony hand and pointed a solitary finger directly at him. Overcome with the foreign feeling of vulnerability, Chris longed for a weapon, something he could use to protect himself. He remembered the shovel and took a cautious step backward.
The skeleton countered with another step of its own.
Suddenly, the shadows of the forest shifted. More mysterious figures materialized around him, more pairs of glowing orange eyes pierced the air. Chris wondered who they all were, where they'd all come from. It was as though his hilltop secrets had been exhumed and brought to life.
His heart started to race as the shapes closed in. He backed up quickly, his hand reaching for the shovel and grasping nothing but thin air. Then his foot slipped on the loose earth at the edge of the grave, and suddenly he was falling backward, down into the hole. He landed with a thud, the crown of his head hitting something hard.
Chris looked up. For a split second, he saw the crowd of figures surrounding the hole, looking down on him, the skeleton front and center. Then a flash of bright stars appeared before his eyes, obscuring the view.
A primal scream filled the air, and Chris's blood ran cold. As a wave of disorientation descended over him, it occurred to him that the noise sounded vaguely like Toby.
It was the last thought he had before everything went black.
*~*~*
When Chris came to, Toby was standing over him.
It was the edge of night, and it took Chris a few seconds before he could determine exactly where he was. He was in the forest, sitting on hard ground, propped against the side of the car. His clothes were torn and covered in dirt.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes and worked hard on focusing them. He looked up at Toby and watched closely as he unscrewed the cap from a plastic water bottle.
"Drink," Toby commanded, calmly handing him the water. The expression on his face was unreadable.
Chris took the bottle and did as he was told. The cool liquid helped dampen his anxiety as well as his thirst. Slowly, his senses returned and his brain began to work again.
"What happened? How’d I get back here?"
"I dragged you," Toby replied. Then he held out his hand. "C’mon, we should get going."
But Chris didn't move. "We can’t go, not yet," he declared. "We still gotta get rid of Lamar."
Toby raised an eyebrow. "Lamar? Who the fuck is Lamar?"
Chris stumbled to his feet, spilling water everywhere. "The stiff in the trunk," he answered grimly.
Toby turned his head, looking warily in the direction of the open trunk. He slowly made his way to the rear of the car and glanced inside. Then, with a frown, he looked back at Chris.
"There's no body in here."
"What?" blurted Chris. That couldn't be. He took several fumbling steps over to where Toby stood to see for himself.
Sure enough, the only thing lying in the trunk was a shovel.
He stared at the emptiness, his mouth agape. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Toby shake his head dismissively before reaching up to slam the trunk shut. Shock gave way to paranoia, and Chris turned on Toby.
"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" he snapped.
Toby leveled his accusation with an icy stare. "Who's fucking with who?" he mumbled under his breath. A long moment passed between them, then Toby's features softened. He held out his hand again.
"The keys," he requested quietly. "You’re in no shape to drive."
Chris suddenly felt tired, very tired. In his heart, he knew there’d be no reason for Toby to be fucking with him, not over something like this. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, and he dug into his pants pocket, pulled out the keys, and handed them over.
They got into the car, and Toby glanced sideways at Chris. "You should drink the rest of that," he told him, nodding toward the water. "It’ll make you feel better."
With an unsteady hand, Chris drained the bottle and positioned himself for a long drive. He just wanted to rest. His head hurt, and he was so desperately sleepy. But he was so confused, and he still had so many unanswered questions.
"Did you see all those people? Where'd they come from? What did they want? Where'd they go?"
Toby started the car.
"Who screamed, Toby? Was it you? Was it that skeleton thing? Do you think that thing was Lamar?"
Toby hesitated, then turned to look directly at him.
"You know what, Chris?" he said slowly. "You ask too many questions. You need to relax. You need to let me handle things." His mouth twisted into a sly smile, and he added, "And I need some peace and quiet so I can concentrate."
As the Valium kicked in, the water bottle slipped from Chris's grasp and fell to the floor. Realization snuck into the last bit of his consciousness. He watched wordlessly as Toby put the car in gear and drove out of the clearing and onto the highway.
Just before the drug pulled him under for good, Chris focused as best he could on Toby's face. Maybe it was just the reflection of the lights from the dashboard, or tricks from the moonlight, but it looked like Toby's eyes were a glowing bright orange.
THE END