Whispers at Moonrise

her grandfather waited inside because she’d get some answers. Definitely worth it. Besides, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t done this before; she’d come here twice. But not in the dark or the dead of night. Something about the blackness, with only the moon’s silver glow making the spirits’ gazes visible, made the place look so much more … haunted.
    Which it was. As if to prove the fact, the cold from the spirits surrounded her and made her skin crawl. She looked up and saw a couple of spirits had moved outside the gate and were slowly easing toward her. Stiffening her spine, accepting she had to do it, she took another step closer, planning to just walk inside. Sort of like jumping into the deep end of a freezing pool and getting it over with. Yet as her foot shifted one more time, a voice, a close-to-her voice—too close—whispered in her ear. “I wouldn’t go in there.”
    She yelped and jumped back six feet before she recognized the voice. Taking a breath to calm her nerves, she moved up beside Hannah. Then Kylie recalled what what the spirit had said. Did Hannah know something Kylie didn’t? Was she wrong and it wasn’t her grandfather waiting for her inside?
    “Why shouldn’t I go in?” Kylie asked, her nerves no longer calm.
    Hannah leaned in and whispered again. “There are ghosts in there.”
    Kylie looked at her agape. “But—”
    “I know I’m dead,” Hannah blurted out, reading Kylie’s thoughts. “Just like my grave buddies. But seeing all of them” —she motioned to the gate— “it still scares the crap out of me.”
    Kylie looked from the gate to her watch again; she had two minutes. She had to go in. But she needed to get Hannah to talk. “Look, someone’s waiting on me, but I need to know. What is it that you need me to do?”
    Hannah closed her eyes, but not before Kylie saw panic fill her gaze.
    “Don’t run off,” Kylie said in a hurry when she felt the cold begin to ebb. “I need to know. It’s why you’re here. I know it’s hard to talk about things, but sometimes we have to do things that scare us. Sometimes it helps. Sort of like me walking into the cemetery.” She glanced back at the gate and the hundred dead faces peering back at her.
    Hannah opened her eyes; the panic made her pupils large and black. “He’s close by.” Her voice weakened.
    “Who’s close? What did he do?” When Hannah didn’t continue, Kylie took a guess. “Is it that Blake guy? The one who called Holiday when she was at the falls?”
    Hannah looked down at her hands finger-locked in front of her. “She loved him. She got everything she wanted. I just wanted to know what it would feel like to be that happy. I’d had too much to drink. He’d had too much to drink. It was wrong.”
    Kylie started putting the pieces together, but she wasn’t completely sure, so she asked, “Was Blake the man Holiday was supposed to marry?”
    Hannah nodded, and when she looked up, tears and shame filled her eyes.
    “Is he the one who killed you?” Kylie asked.
    Hannah put her hand over her mouth as if the thought sickened her.
    “Is he?” Kylie asked again.
    When she moved her hands from her lips, they were trembling. “I … I don’t know if it was Blake.” Her eyes filled with terror and sadness at the same time. “I guess it could have been. I don’t remember how it happened.” She paused. “I only recall … his aura.” Pain filled her eyes. “Details I can’t remember, I can’t put a name on him, or a face, but the evilness of him as he took my life … that I can’t forget. And I’ve felt it since. He sometimes comes back to where he buried us. I hear him walking on the floor above. The three of us cling to each other in death and pretend our souls are already gone.”
    Hannah hugged herself as if the memory was too much. “He disguises his aura most of the time. He has the power to appear normal. But when he’s not pretending, he’s evil and dark.”
    “When he’s pretending, is his aura the same as Blake’s?” Kylie asked.
    “I don’t know. I’m not sure. I guess it could be. I never paid attention to that aura. It’s the other that … haunts me.” She paused as if in thought. “There seems to be a small part of me that says I knew the man who did it.” She paused as if her thoughts went in another direction, and from her expression, it wasn’t a good direction. “He thinks killing brings him power—that’s why he does it. And the day I was at