fandomhigh | Horror 101, Monday

"When we talk about monsters, the first image that jumps to mind is usually something slavering and ugly out of Lovecraft," Mitchell began, idly. "Or the monster within ourselves, whatever. It's about fear, and there is very little people fear more than death. Death is this intangible thing, just this close to touch, this... big inevitability. Everyone dies. But what happens when we pass that veil, when we've stepped through that door?"

Mitchell took a moment to himself, then continued. "Ghosts. The souls of the dead. They are maybe the most basic of all ideas of horror, of terror. They've been written as malevolent, they've been portrayed as benevolent, but they are always frightening reminders of our own mortality, of our longing for longevity, immortality, and our fear of it. Even in our age, a lot of people are frightened of what flits by them in the dark. We won't live in houses where someone died, we hide from the knocks and creaks of our houses in the dark."

"We have stories that were kept from long before the beginning of our calendar about ghosts seeking out revenge on those who killed them while they were alive. The ancient Greeks once considered them mere whisps of something or other, but the legend of them quickly molded them into something haunting. The Romans thought they could be used as fuel for curses, and since there have been many stories about ghosts driving people out of their homes."

He shrugged a shoulder. "I could tell you about the renaissance, and that whole rubbish about necromancy, but it wouldn't teach you much. I could speak to you about all the films, but let's face it - if you're from this time, you'll have seen ghost films. You'll have heard of seances, of people coming together to call ghosts towards them to talk to them about what became of their families. Ghosts can be frightening," he finished, "But often it's more our own expectations that get the better of us. After all, how terrifying are idle noises and random movements?"

He hopped off the couch. "I asked you to meet me in the Danger Shop because we're doing things differently this time around," he said. "No films. No discussion. I'd just like you all to go in there."

He pointed at the door behind him.

"We'll see how you react."

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! ]]

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"All right," Tony said, though he didn't sound convinced. He followed Mitchell up the stairs.

Mitchell pushed open a door at the end, then another one - there were some spooky noises about, but that was all - and finally shoved open the last one. "Gilbert," he said, "Lay off the fun for this one."

"Fun," said the jaded-looking ghost, slouched over in a chair, "is the wool pulled over the eyes of the bourgeois middle class."

"...Yeah, right. Could you just sit down and talk to him about the ghost... thing for a minute and I'll be able to let him go home."

Gilbert rolled his eyes and muttered something about Mitchell being a part of the oppressive majority (or whatever), then fixed his eyes on Tony. "Haven't I already talked to you?"

Tony was a bit jumpy at the spooky noises - so sue him - but he clenched his jaw and tried not to react. He did trust Mitchell, after all. He followed Mitchell into the room, but didn't relax yet.

"I don't think so," he said to Gilbert.

"All you poor, abused members of the--" Gilbert started, but Mitchell cut him off.

"Tony, this is Gilbert," he said. "He died in the 80s. He can tell you a few stories." His eyebrows raised a little. "And the worst he can do is bore you to death."

"Oi," Gilbert said, giving him the finger. "I can't help it you're an incorrigible fascist."

"Hi Gilbert," Tony said. "You don't have to tell me about disco. I've heard the stories."

"Disco!"

Gilbert sounded terribly offended all around. "Disco, he says. Where do you get these people?"

Mitchell shrugged, leaning against the back wall.

"Proper 80s music, now there's what," he said. "New Wave, that was the stuff. It's not music until it sounds like someone's dying on it. I tried haunting this 80s club once, but 'alf the crap they're playing is 90s rubbish."

"Really?" Tony asked. He relaxed a little, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "There's whole radio stations devoted to 80s stuff now."

"That's what they call themselves, at least. Mostly it's just capitalistic claptrap meant to pinch more pennies out of your generation."

Gilbert had never quite grown up out of the 80s, no. "I had a mate who stuck around there, though. Haunting the club toilets."

"Okay, wasn't the original 80s music all about making money?" Tony asked.

"That's government propaganda," Gilbert accused, pointing a finger at him. "They've brainwashed the lot of you. It was real music, man. Some people nearly put their own suicides to vinyl."

Tony shuddered. "That's hardcore," he said.

"That's the eighties," Gilbert said, gesturing with his cigarette.

Mitchell sighed in the corner. "We're not here to talk about your record collection," he said. "Bloke here ran into some trouble in a haunted house."

"Let me guess," Gilbert drawled, in that English way that involved him sounding like he couldn't be arsed to enunciate. "Exorcism?"

Tony shook his head. "The house had an evil presence kinda stuck to the basement wall," he said. "It liked to drive people to murder and suicide and draw energy from their ghosts. I was trapped inside with a bunch of people last summer." He took a deep breath. "Three didn't come out alive."

"A ghost trap?" Gilbert said. For once, he looked moved. A little bit, anyway. "No, really?"

"It's happened before?" Tony asked.

"I've heard of it," Gilbert said, shrugging some, "I mean, generally it's just exorcisms. Ghost murder. But a ghost trap? That's special."

"Great," Tony muttered. "I get the special haunted house with the evil waxy buildup. Do the others usually kill people?"

"They kill ghosts," Gilbert said, shrugging only the slightest bit he needed to communicate the essence of shrug. "Just poof and a whisp of smoke, and they're gone into the ether."

"Gone gone or, like, moved on gone?" Tony asked.

"Gone gone," said Gilbert, taking a long drag off his cigarette. "I mean, the ones who move on, they just pass on. But exorcism, cages and such, that's just fireworks. Bloody fascists."

"I'm sorry, man, that sucks," Tony said. "I'm pretty sure the ones in the, uh, ghost trap moved on once we got them free."

Horror 101, Monday

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