An Entry in the Sean Houston files
I’m trying new formats and new writing styles. I’ve mentioned my setting Plunkett, Virginia before and I’ve cooked up many details for TTRPG sessions set in this world. What I haven’t done is writing traditional fictional content about the world. Here I have some flash fiction I cooked up about a supernaturally connected detective tracking a missing girl. Hope you enjoy!
Sean chewed a wad of gum, the flavor long gone and the texture not unlike bacon gristle. The gum was supposed to keep him from smoking, which it did. Sometimes.
What the gum didn’t do was distract from the cold wind blowing through the cemetery. Fall in Plunkett was more like early Winter. The air smelled like snow but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He checked his watch. The analog clock face showed three minutes past midnight.
“Two more minutes.” Sean muttered. “Then I bail.” He spat the gum wad onto the ground between two graves. Once the wad settled it rose in the air, the wind around it swirling and pushing dead leaves aside. The gum flew through the air and landed in a garbage can thirty feet away.
“That was impressive.” Sean glanced around. “Will you make an appearance this time?”
The air swirled and a humanoid figure appeared. They were gaunt, bones showing through stretched and broken skin, dressed in commoner garb from 1776. The form let out a keening wail in Sean’s face. Sean did not react.
”Thurston, you’ve kept me waiting. Again. Does time not mean anything when you’re dead?”
The humanoid figure shifted its appearance, now looking less horrific, still gaunt, but the skin no longer splitting at various points of the body. Sean faced a handsome older gentleman spirit, hovering inches off the ground. It spoke with a haughty air.
“When you’re dead the only thing that helps track the passage of time are new arrivals. Or at least the ones that hang around.” Thurston floated closer to Sean’s face. “And you shoulnd’t be littering Sean. What will bystanders think?”
Sean looked around at the empty graveyard, the wind still pulling at his coat. the flowers on several graves bowed with the autumn wind. Thurston loved to give Sean a hard time which was part of why Sean hated coming to the cemetery for help. But he was about to get evicted and his client was willing to pay triple Sean’s rate. That kind of money lasted a while in a town like Plunkett.
Digging into his coat pocket Sean produced a photo of Emily Dowd. She was a moody looking teenager dressed in all black, purple streaks in her thick dark hair, silver necklaces and bracelets standing out against the black clothing. “Thurston, this girl went missing, any idea where she is?”
Thurston placed small spectacles on the bridge of his nose, peering at the photo. “Hm, she does seem familiar. I don’t think her spirit has been loosed from her mortal vessel. Perhaps I’ve spotted her smoking those dreadful cloves.”
Sean felt the wind tug his coat again, and he yanked it back into place. Sean chewed his lip and fought to keep his temper in check. “Thurston, come on, I don’t have time for your schtick.” Sean felt a tug at his ankle and he stepped forward, cursing as he stumbled. The wind wasn’t the only thing pulling at his clothes.
Thurston clucked his tongue. “It seems some of the residents are not staying in their place.” The spirit hovered higher as the cemetery ground was torn apart by rising dead, rotted skin and cracked bones pushing dirt aside to get to Sean, the only thing with warmth in the vicinity. The dark earth crumbled aside to make way for gray skin, bones barely held together by dissolved cartilage. The remaining muscle of the crawling dead seemed to be bolstered by an unseen magic. Some plots had undulating earth, too heavy for the buried to rise. But Sean had plenty of undead to deal with.
Sean jammed his hands into his pockets for something that would help. He felt cold, dead hands pawing at his legs. He pulled a bag he bought from a local witch, Agatha “The Hag” Harkness. As Sean opened the bag and reached in, the bag barely larger than his hand was engulfing his arm up the elbow, Thurston shouted something, floating around in Sean’s eyeline. Sean ignored Thurston, focusing on the undead crawled towards him. As a more intact corpse clasped a cold, heavy hand onto Sean’s shoulder Sean pulled a small vial with a cork stopper.
His fingers stiff from the cold, Sean fumbled with the stopper for a moment before opening the vial. A roar not unlike a massive ocean wave filled the air as blinding sunlight erupted from the vial, turning every undead thing into ash and dust.
Sean blinked his eyes, slowly regaining sight as Thurston floated down to make eye contact with Sean. “So, I recalled where I saw the girl.” He pouted slightly, looking guilty for withholding the information.
Sean closed the cemetery gate as the night guard shone a weak flashlight beam on the entrance.
“Anythin’ I can help you with, son?” The Appalachian accent was thick, the figure silhouetted. Sean held one hand up to keep the light out of his eyes.
“Not at all, just, ah-” Sean held up the now empty vial. “-just cleaning up some trash. Thanks.” Sean walked off, pulling another piece of gum from his pocket. What Thurston told him meant that Sean only had a few more hours to save the kid. He didn’t have time to stop.
Sean had to go see Agatha.