Word on a Whim

Vinny’s Paranormal Productions – a short story for Halloween

Ed returned to the table with two overflowing pint glasses and placed them on the soggy beermats.

 “Cheers,” said Ryan. “Looks like it’s just us tonight. Cal and Vinny have got better things to do … again.”

“Yeah, Cal’s got a new girlfriend, so it’s all about her at the moment.”

Ryan downed half his beer in one go and wiped the foam from the top of his lip. It had been a long week at the factory, with overtime this morning, but finally it was Saturday night. “Cal will be back when the new love fizzles out. It’s becoming a pattern. As for Vinny, he’s married to his bloody YouTube channel!”

Ed picked up his mobile. “I messaged Vinny to let him know we’re here, but he hasn’t replied. Too busy ghostbusting, I guess. He’s got a good few more subscribers though … and loads of comments …”

“Have you read the comments?” laughed Ryan. “It’s mostly just people slagging off his ghosts as fake and arguing amongst themselves about what tricks he’s used to make them! Doesn’t ‘Vinny’s Paranormal Productions’ suggest it’s all made up?”

“Yeah, but good luck to him – if he gets enough subscribers he could quit the day job. Young Vinny’s a good lad but not really cut out for the factory. He tries to go along with the banter but you can tell it winds him up.” Ed hesitated before adding, “Maybe leave off making ghostly noises every time you see him in the locker room, it’s wearing a bit thin. Anyway, it looks like the band’s getting ready to start …”

Vinny removed his head torch and pointed it down as he left the public footpath and trod carefully across the field towards the makeshift grave. At least he hoped he was heading towards it. These fields and woodlands were close to home and he knew them quite well, but the darkness of the night gave them a whole new perspective and he’d already lost his bearings a couple of times.

He reached the barbed wire fence and stopped for a breather. The rucksack on his back was weighing heavy with cans of beer … at least it would be lighter going home. It was Saturday night after all, and just because he wasn’t out with the lads didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a few beers, and the small bottle of Jack Daniels he’d added as an afterthought. That would go down nicely on this chilly October night.

Running his fingers lightly along the barbed wire, Vinny wished he’d thought of bringing a mat or something to put over the spikes – but dumped his rucksack on the other side, switched off his torch, pushed down the wire and went for it, trampling down the brambles on the other side. As his eyes adjusted, the white stone cross that marked the grave became gradually clearer until it seemed to be glowing. He moved towards it then paused, startled by a scratching sound … but it was only thorns and shrubs scraping against his coat and bag.

It was two months ago, on a sunny morning in August when he’d first noticed the white stone cross, after being lured to pick a few ripe blackberries that were hanging over the barbed wire. There was no inscription to be seen, and although there was a mound of earth, it had grass and weeds growing over it, so it hadn’t been dug recently. Maybe it was the grave of the landowner’s beloved dog?

He cast his mind back to that sunny day, trying not to feel so edgy, but it wasn’t really working. Putting down the rucksack again, he extracted the whiskey and took a swig. It made him cough but he followed it up with a bigger swig. Why was he feeling so spooked? He was only here to record some footage to take home and edit with a bit of chroma keying and masking, so other people would be spooked by it! The whiskey had gone to his head already so he put it aside, and downed a can of lager.

Making sure the camera was recording, he checked his appearance and adjusted his hat to a more flattering angle, then zoomed out a little so the white stone cross was in the frame, and went into character of his YouTube persona. With a fetching smile, he welcomed his viewers, and launched into the introductory spiel that he’d mentally rehearsed from his internet findings.

“Wraiths are usually spirits that have an unhealthy attachment to the mortal realm. They can change their form to deceive people, so they might, for example, take on a human form to lure another person or gain their trust. By changing its appearance, a wraith can adapt to different environments, allowing it to interact better with the physical world -”

He stopped, startled by a noise that seemed to come from above … looked up at the trees then back to the camera, “Did you hear that? Sounded like an animal. I’ve heard weird noises coming from squirrels, but they don’t come out at night, do they? Anyway, I was telling you about wraiths … they can alter the perceptions of any person they touch, making emotionally unbalanced or even making them hallucinate.”

A rustling noise sent him spinning round, cursing as the brambles hooked into his clothes. He thrashed around a little, exaggerating for dramatic effect, then returned his gaze to the camera. “Sorry guys, I don’t know what that was. Noises are so much louder here in these quiet woodlands. One morning, I thought I could hear someone using a rake, but it was just a blackbird kicking up the dry leaves to look for worms. How could a small bird make so much noise? But the blackbirds are in bed now, aren’t they? Wherever blackbirds sleep!”

Vinny shivered and zipped his coat up as far as it would go. It had been a mild day for the time of year, so why did he suddenly feel freezing cold? He leaned into the camera. “Back to wraiths. Whilst they don’t actually make people insane, they latch on to the already-fragile elements of their victim’s psyche to make them even crazier!” Widening his eyes with a zany expression, he concluded, “In a nutshell, wraiths are attracted by unstable emotions.”

Pausing the camera, he knocked back some more whiskey and thought about his mates in The Prince of Wales … wishing he was there on a comfy seat, in the beery warmth, with background chat instead of inexplicable spooky noises. He knew he’d get some stick from Ryan on Monday morning, for ‘putting his channel before his mates’ but with the alternating shifts at the factory, and the mandatory overtime if they were behind with production, he only really had the weekends to record and edit his videos and get them uploaded to YouTube. His subscriber and viewing stats had gone up this month, which was encouraging. Particularly if he was ever going to get out of the shitty factory job and a single bed in his dad’s flat.

There were guys at the factory who’d been in the same role for twenty years, and seemed proud of it. Vinny was depressed by the thought of still being there this time next year, let alone another eighteen. His dad said he should have tried to get a place on a course in plumbing or ‘something useful’, rather than the Multimedia Film Art course he’d opted for. Was it so wrong to want to spend his life doing something more creative than fixing people’s toilets?

On the subject of toilets, he could do with a piss, but it wasn’t going to be easy amongst all these thorns and prickles. He stepped back away from the cross but the brambles scratched noisily against his coat and pierced through the fabric of his jeans. Only one thing for it! “Look the other way for a minute, guys” he said into the camera as he turned it away … he would edit that bit out. He stepped forward into the clearing and pissed noisily onto the grave, laughing drunkenly at the incongruity as it splashed up the white stone cross.

Tucking everything back in, he moved away and sat on the flap of the rucksack to enjoy another beer and the last of the whiskey. Steam was rising from the earth in front of the cross, so he grabbed the camera to capture it.  He felt bitterly cold, although there was no frost, in fact it had been a warm day for the time of year, so he was surprised to have made the ground steam, but it did look pretty awesome. He watched, mesmerised by the curling white hoops that rose and dispersed into the ether …

How long had he been recording this phenomenon? The white vapour was intensifying rather than dissipating and the surrounding air felt freezing. Jolted by the sensation of icy fingers touching his face, he hung the camera round his neck, scrambled to his feet and took a step back, holding out the camera as if recording events would somehow protect him from them.

A beam of red light began to glow through the dense shrubbery behind the cross. Vinny opened his mouth to ask who was there – but no sound came out. Another light was now glowing alongside the first … like a pair of demonic eyes piercing the darkness, watching him. Fixated by their glare, all he could do was stare back at them, until one of the lights began to advance and formed an aura around the silhouette of a cloaked figure …

A guttural scream, which he realised had come from himself, spurred him into action and he turned to run, stumbling over his rucksack, tearing through the vicious blackberry bushes, and ripping his jeans scrambling over the barbed wire. It was downhill now to head for home, and he took a tumble when his legs couldn’t keep up with the speed of his descent. It wasn’t until he left the footpath behind and saw the lights of the town that he checked his precious camera was okay. Fortunately, it was fine – it was even still recording … not that he felt like watching the footage any time soon. He switched it off and secured the lens cover.

He was still shaking and his legs felt weak. He could turn left here and go home, or turn right and call in at The Prince of Wales. The town clock said he was in time for last orders – maybe text Ed first and check he was still there … except he’d left his bloody mobile in the rucksack up by the grave! He took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm down. A quick blast of Friday night pub atmosphere might settle him – the warm lights of the town were helping already.

He hesitated as he got close to The Prince of Wales. The smokers outside were wearing their smart Saturday night gear, and he was suddenly aware of his torn coat sleeves and blood on his face where he’d been scratched by thorns. So long as he kept his coat on, no-one would see his jeans were ripped. It’d be fine.

Just as he decided to go for it, the pub door swung open and Ed walked out, followed by Ryan. They didn’t notice him and headed off towards their neck of the woods, on the opposite side of town to where Vinny lived.

“Ed! … Ryan!” he called, and they turned in synchrony and gawped at the state he was in. Their faces creased with laughter then they turned their backs on him. Vinny watched them vanish behind a happy bunch who were waiting for a taxi, then turned and went home, determined not blub in the street. That wasn’t like Ed at all … he was older and kinder than the other guys.

Late Sunday morning, Vinny started his laptop then went to make coffee. It would have finished booting up by the time he got back. Having decided this would be his final video, he didn’t even bother to edit it – just transferred the recording from the camera to the laptop and started the upload to YouTube. Meanwhile, he opened another tab and looked half-heartedly at plumbing courses before giving up and going back to bed.

The working week that followed was mostly spent trying to avoid his workmates, particularly Ed and Ryan … not easy as they were on the same shift, and clocked in and out and took their breaks at the same time. Whilst he longed for the weekend, he dreaded the emptiness of it. No video to make and no mates to go out with. Friday afternoon finally arrived, then the end of shift siren with no overtime this weekend. Vinny hung back with the other misfits as the main mob flung open the swing doors and jostled for position in the queue for the clocking machine – the racket escalating with the rush to the locker room for a quick getaway.

Thinking the coast should be clear by now, Vinny entered the locker room to ditch his work boots and hi-vis … and there was Ed, sitting on a bench, looking at something on his mobile. He stopped, wondering if he’d been seen. It seemed he had …

“Congratulations,” said Ed, without looking up.

“Urm, hi! Congratulations on what?”

Ed looked up with a slight eye-roll and spelled it out. “Congratulations on your latest video going viral, shared all over the web, and all your new subscribers. So, why have you been avoiding us all this week? Is this your last day and you were going to slink off without saying goodbye? … Well? Don’t stand there looking like a goldfish. Your acting skills are getting good though – you look genuinely shit-scared in this video … and your subscribers are arguing amongst themselves as to how you achieved the ghostly effects … I do like the bit where you turn the camera the other way, as if you’re going to pee on the grave!”

Vinny sat down on the bench next to Ed. “Do you mind if I have a look?”

Ed handed over his mobile and laughed as Vinny checked his channel, and his expression morphed from belligerence to incredulity and finally to delight.

“Didn’t you know it had all kicked off?” asked Ed.

Vinny shook his head. “My mobile was in the rucksack I left up the hill – along with all the empty beer cans … and I’m too scared to go back and get it.”

“Why have you been so off with us all this week? I know Ryan’s a bit of a mickey-taker, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t know how to be any other way …”

“After the way you both jeered and then blanked me last Saturday? You were as bad as Ryan!”

“Erm … what are we talking about now?”

Vinny recounted how he’d gone to The Prince of Wales to join them, but Ed shook his head.

“It wasn’t us. I texted you early Saturday evening to say me and Ryan were meeting at The Farmer’s Arms, our end of the town, since you and Cal weren’t coming – so you knew where to find us if you changed your mind. You didn’t reply … and then ignored us all week, like we’d done something wrong!”

Vinny shrugged. “I’m sorry, mate.” He returned the mobile to Ed. “I didn’t edit that video – I never even watched it. I wasn’t acting either. I need to go back up the hill and get my mobile, if it’s still there. My rucksack’s waterproof and out of sight of the footpath so hopefully it’s okay … but … well, I’ve lost my nerve. I don’t want to go back there again, or anywhere else spooky for that matter. Don’t tell Ryan I said that – or I’ll never hear the end of it!”

Ed rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “How about we have a walk up the hill tomorrow in daylight and collect all the rubbish you left behind? I’d quite like to visit the famous grave from the viral video! My advice is to keep your options open and keep your subscribers guessing.”

In the late Saturday morning sunshine, the location of the grave was no more than a peaceful place to bury a pet, but Vinny still had no inclination to hang around there once he’d retrieved everything he’d left behind last weekend. Ed sensed Vinny’s need to get away, and held down the barbed wire for him to step over, then Vinny did the same for Ed, and they strolled amicably back down the hill.

“The thing is, I didn’t used to believe in ghosts, so going to spooky places at night didn’t bother me … but it does now.”

“Well, don’t go to spooky places at night then,” laughed Ed. “Shoot your scenes in daylight and use your editing skills to make them dark and scary … and if the sun shines through, make out it’s a spirit orb or something. Just see where it takes you! By the way, we’re going to The Farmer’s Arms again tonight. They have a band every Saturday. You’re welcome to crash at my place, so long as you don’t hang around all day tomorrow – I’ve got stuff to do.”

Vinny’s face lit up. “Cheers Ed! That would be great, if you’re sure!” He hesitated, then asked, “Did you really not go to The Prince of Wales last Saturday?”

“Nope, like I said, we were at The Farmer’s Arms all night. Once you’ve got some charge back in your phone, check out their Facebook page – there’s pictures of the band with me and Ryan sat in the background.”

“I know I was drunk and scared witless, but I’m sure I saw you and Ryan … I really don’t get it.”

“Don’t you? Well, I think I get it. There’s a popular YouTube channel that explains paranormal experiences in plain and simple terms.” Ed stopped walking, to find something on his mobile. It took Vinny a few seconds to recognise his own recorded voice …

“By changing its appearance, a wraith can adapt to different environments, allowing it to interact better with the physical world.”

Ed laughed, “Your face is a picture! I take it the penny’s dropped.”