The 9 Ghosts of Samen's Bane

By Derek A Schneider

The 9 Ghosts of Samen's Bane follows one father's ordeal with the 9 ghosts that have taken up residence in his mind. What do they want? To use him as a conduit for their amazing abilities in order to resume their fight against an ancient enemy and his army of evil spirits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Derek A Schneider
• Release date: Aug 8, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458119230

Derek A Schneider

Derek A. Schneider is the creator of the eerie thriller The 9 Ghosts of Samen's Bane and the action packed Seasons Change Vampire Series which includes Avenging Autumn, The Wintermen and Moonlight Springs Eternal. He makes his home in Indianapolis, IN with his wife and five kids. Recent work includes the thriller, The Goat.

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The 9 Ghosts of Samen’s Bane

By

Derek A. Schneider

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2008 Derek A. Schneider. All rights reserved

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ISBN: 144215408X

1.

The Train Station

Death.

It started with death. From then on, death would hang over my head like the grim whispers of autumn leaves rustling in the breeze.

The entire night has played out in my head at least a hundred times since it happened. It began at the party. A grand re-opening ball for an old train station in a little town called Butterfield, Ohio that ended with the violent death of over a hundred innocent people.

I should probably explain more about myself first. My name is Adrian Dillard and about 3 years ago, a friend of mine came to me with the crazy idea of revitalizing the passenger train industry. We both had quite a bit of money stashed away and decided to invest in this venture, along with a great deal of other investors we had recruited. This friend of mine, whose name is Phil Mallory by the way, had everything planned out already. He called it an all new way to see the country even though it was being done on one of the country’s oldest means of travel.

It was when I brought this point up to him that he began to get really excited. He started naming off all these ideas that he had to make the experience completely different than other passenger lines. It kind of sounded like a 5 star hotel on train tracks, with large, lavishly decorated sleeping quarters, a high class, and very expensive restaurant on board, as well as an old west themed saloon complete with high quality furniture and pool table (okay, so that last one was a bad idea, though if the train stopped long enough you may have been able to get a game in). We toyed with the idea of adding a swimming pool, but decided that, even if it was possible, it probably wouldn’t be very well received.

About 18 months ago our line started up and things were going very well. The money started rolling in and soon I came up with the idea of re-opening old abandoned train stations along the route. Admittedly, there weren’t many along the way, but I had noticed a few on our travels and I thought the passengers would get a kick out of stopping by some old landmarks here and there. People like that kind of thing, don’t ask me why.

The first of such re-openings was to be in this northern Ohio town called Butterfield. The station was completely refurbished and an old west style ball was planned for the re-opening.

Being so busy with this business venture I had spent very little time with my wife, Michelle or our 4 year old son, Luke. So, I decided to bring them over from Indianapolis for the week. They were both very excited to go to the ball, but if I had had some way of knowing about the horrible tragedy that would occur that night, I would never have brought them.

The frightening images are still burned into my mind, even now.

I couldn’t have known though. After all, it was just a freak accident and of course there is no way to predict something like that, at least no way that I knew of at the time.

One hundred and seven people died that night, but it isn’t their deaths that haunt me. It isn’t the fact that the re-opening of the station was my idea, or that I helped organize the ball and the arrival of the train. It isn’t even the fact that I had ignored all the superstitious stories I had heard from the locals going into the re-opening.

No, what haunts me the most is the one thing I know that no one else is aware of. That it was my son that caused the whole thing.

I awoke in my bed feeling groggy and confused. With great effort I sat up and stared around the room searching desperately for the clock radio. I finally found the blurred, red numbers that read 8:45pm, or was my mind only telling me it was 8:45pm. I don’t think I could actually see the clock.

A woman’s laugh traveled up the stairs to my room and I remembered that my wife was having a party of some sort.

A scrapbook party?

Yes, that’s right, a scrapbook party. How she loves to take her photos and put together scrapbooks. She’s really quite creative with it all. I must have dozed off while trying to stay out of their way. Can’t have a man crashing the scrapbook party after all.

Now, however, they would have to put up with me, because when my hunger awakens, I must heed its call.

I slowly pulled my limp body off of the bed and began to move down the hallway, dragging my half sleeping feet like a zombie in a blood bank.

Wait, that’s not right, is it? Zombies don’t drink blood, they eat brains, right? I don’t know. I’ve never been much of a horror movie buff.

Nevertheless, I felt very much like I was moving through molasses, or deep water.

When I made my way down to the kitchen I peeked into the living room to find Michelle, only no one was there. I still heard their voices, as if they should be standing right in front of me, but the room was empty.

Odd.

I remember wondering where Luke was.

I then went to the kitchen and was surprised to see my grandfather sitting in a chair, against the wall.

Grandpa? What are you doing here? I asked, my voice sounding tired and muffled in my own ears.

He opened his mouth as if to reply and an earsplitting whistle escaped from deep within his throat. I immediately put my hands over my ears in a feeble attempt to drown out the sound. It didn’t seem to help at all and it suddenly dawned on me what the noise was.

A train whistle.

Just then, a great crashing sound erupted from behind me and I turn to see a steam locomotive ripping through the kitchen window. Everything slowed down and I could see the number of the locomotive.

No, that was impossible, it just didn’t make since. Not here! Not now!

How could I have read the number?

How could I have smelled the coal burning?

How could I feel my bones being crushed as the train made contact with my body?

I sat up with a shot. A strange, choked scream trying to escape my mouth. Michelle’s hand suddenly gripped my shoulders and I realized I was just having a nightmare. The nightmare.

Honey, are you alright? she asked quietly. Her voice was a comforting whisper. Calming.

Yeah, I answered, my own voice most resembled a hand full of gravel in a blender. I placed my right hand on hers, It was just a dream.

The same dream?

Yeah.

It was then I realized my breathing was still quite heavy and I had soaked a small pond through the sheet and my pillow case. I stood and walked toward the door.

Go back to sleep, I called back to her without turning, feeling an inexplicable shame from the dream I’d just had, I just need to get some air, then I’ll come back to bed.

She flopped her head back down on the pillow and I could hear her snoring again before I reached the end of the hall. I stopped at Luke’s door and quietly eased it open. He was lying face down with his butt sticking straight up in the air, snoring just as loudly as his mother was.

Taking care not to make much noise, I crept down the stairs and into the kitchen where I put on a pot of coffee. Michelle and I both knew there would be no getting back to sleep for me after the dream, I don’t know why I say that I’ll be coming back to bed every time.

I threw on a flannel robe and a pair of insulated slippers and went to the cabinet for my favorite coffee mug; a big, green, ceramic one with a polar bear on the side and little snowflakes surrounding the surface.

With my coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other, I walked out to the back porch and sat down in the old wooden rocking chair. The first light of sunrise was looming on the horizon and falling gently on the changing leaves in the surrounding woods. Soon the last lingering memories of the dream were washed away by the brilliant color of the sky and trees and the chilly November air.

Two hours passed before I heard a small, tired voice from behind me. Hi, Daddy.

I sat up halfway and turned to see Luke staring at me from the other side of the screen door. Well, good morning, big man. How’s my favorite little turd.

I’m not a turd, you’re a turd, he replied with a grin. He still wasn’t quite able to articulate his r’s and the word came out sounding like tud.

Is your mother up yet?

No, and she’s snoring really loud.

She is, huh?

Yes.

Well I know somebody else who snores that loud.

Who?

You.

No I don’t, I’m a little kid and little kids don’t snore.

Well, you may be right about that one, my man. Whatever the case may be, we need to go drag your mother out of bed.

Luke put his hand in mine and together we walked upstairs and into the bedroom Michelle and I shared. Luke jumped on the bed and proceeded to bounce up and down and chant; Wake up, Mom! Wake up, Mom! Wake up, Mom!

Michelle began to stir and a low groan arose from her throat. I don’t want to get up, she moaned.

Well you have to or you’re going to be late for your appointment, I said. C’mon, there’s piping hot coffee waiting for you downstairs.

Michelle slowly sat up, her long red hair hanging in a tangled mess around her face and growled; You know I’m not allowed to drink that stuff.

Yeah, I chided, I just like to rub it in. I find it amusing.

I’m glad one of us does, she shot back as she shuffled into the bathroom.

Luke and I will go down and make breakfast, I called to her through the door.

K, she shouted. At least she’s past the morning sickness; it didn’t seem to last as long with this one as it did with Luke. We decided not to know the sex of the baby this time, but either way we were having trouble coming up with a name we were both happy with.

Heading back down stairs with Luke following closely behind me, the vision from my dream of the train crashing into our window flashed into my head and I suddenly found myself afraid to go into the kitchen. The fear was so real that I actually stopped at the doorway and stared at the kitchen window.

You okay, Dad? Luke’s voice snapped me out of my trance. I looked down at his face, small and full of concern.

Yeah, Luke, I’m alright. I was just thinking about a weird dream I had last night.

Was it the one about the train coming into the kitchen?

Yeah, I… I stared into the boy’s eyes and a disorienting feeling washed over me. As if I were staring into my own eyes set in the face of some alternate version of myself that had just stepped through a magic portal from another world. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Bizarro World Adrian Dillard. How could he know about the dream, I hadn’t told anyone about it, including Michelle. Only one way to find out.

Luke, how did you know about my dream?

I don’t know, maybe I had the same one, he said, Can I have some chocolate milk?

Huh? Oh, yeah, sure you can, I poured his milk, added the powder, and began to stir it with a spoon.

I was just about to ask him about the dream again when Michelle came down the stairs shouting; How are my boys doing down there? She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and was dressed in the maternity overalls that I always thought looked incredibly cute on her.

Luke looked up at her with a smile, We’re fine, look Mommy; I got chocolate milk.

Mmm, that sounds yummy; can you make me some, Daddy?

I guess I didn’t hear her right away, I soon felt her tugging on my shirt sleeve. Hey, you awake in there, chief?

Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m sorry; I was off in my own little world.

I looked back at Luke to find him studying me as if I were some strange new species of baboon. I rubbed my hand through his hair, which was kept short and neat like mine(only his was a bright red instead of my dark brown, a trait he no doubt got from his mother) and assured him that I was fine. After another few seconds of staring he wondered out into the living room and turned on cartoons.

Suddenly, I felt Michelle’s hand close over mine, Are you sure you’re alright, honey?

I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze, keeping my head down and focused on starting the breakfast. I’m fine, really.

It’s been almost three months since the accident and you’re still having this same dream, I think you should give a little more consideration to seeing a psychiatrist.

I’ll think about it, but don’t hold your breath; you know how I feel about those people. Besides, it’s not even the dream that bothers me but the ever impending financial backlash that I can sense just waiting around the corner.

My last statement wasn’t exactly true, the dream actually ate at me almost all the time. How could it not? Every detail is the same, every single night, right down to a tee. It seemed less like a dream and more like a vision or possibly a metaphor for something I was supposed to figure out but couldn’t quite grasp.

As far as finances went; sure I was a little worried about possible lawsuits that may come from the families of the deceased, but being a lawyer, Phil was handling that end of it completely and he had told me repeatedly that there was nothing to worry about.

It was now Michelle’s turn to stare at me with concern. I searched desperately for something to change the subject.

Leia! I blurted.

Excuse me? Did you just address me with another woman‘s name? Michelle asked with confusion.

If we have a girl we should name her Leia.

Luke and Leia? she asked with a smile I don’t think so, pal, you’re lucky you got to name the first one Luke. We don’t want to announce to the whole world that their father is a giant Star Wars nerd.

So, Chewbacca is out of the question for a boy? I said, jokingly.

Way out of the question, she laughed.

We sat down to our breakfast and for the most part, my dream was forgotten. It wasn’t until later that afternoon that the weird stuff really started happening and I couldn’t help thinking that something more might have happened the night of the accident. As if amid all of the wreckage, something was missed.

By 9:30 that morning, Michelle was off to her doctor’s appointment and Luke and I had returned upstairs to get ready to visit my sister, Molly, for her birthday. I was in the bathroom shaving, something that had become a daily ritual for me. I couldn’t help but long for the thick goatee that once made its home on my chin. Going into the train venture, Phil thought I would look much more professional without the facial hair.

When Michelle and I had first moved in together, we both worked at a little videogame store. I was the assistant manager and made just over six bucks an hour, we lived in a tiny, one bedroom apartment, we had no car and got to work by riding our bikes when it was warm enough, or trudging through the snow on foot. Those were simpler times and I must admit I sometimes wish we still had such simplicity in our lives. Now it’s a mortgage, car payments, car insurance, home improvements, credit card bills, and shaving my chin every morning to look more professional. I miss my goatee.

Luke was in his room playing with toy cars and acting out crazy storylines that he concocted in his imaginative, little head. For the most part I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. Until that is, his tone changed and I noticed he sounded more like he was having a conversation with someone. I decided to turn the sink off and listen to him for a minute.

No, I’ve never heard of that place……I don’t know……If you want me to, but I’ll have to ask my daddy if it’s okay first, I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my face. Luke had never shown signs of having an imaginary friend before, but I guess this is about the right age. The conversation continued; You want Daddy to come too?……Ok, when will we go?……How soon?……Who is Samen? There was a pause after this. Why does he want to kill everything? it was here that my smile faded and I went into the room to see what Luke was up to, with the sudden, terrible feeling that I’d walk around the corner to find someone in the there with him.

Hey, Dad, Luke blurted as I appeared in the doorway. I looked carefully around the room and was relieved to find no one but my son inside.

Who were you just talking to, Luke? I asked.

A boy, was his only reply.

A boy?

Yeah!

Do you know what this boy’s name was?

No, he said we’d all be introduced to each other later.

What’s going to happen later, Luke?

He wants to take us somewhere. He said we didn’t have to worry about finding a way there, he would come and get us when the time is right.

Where are we going?

He didn’t say, but he did say we would be traveling by train.

I could suddenly feel a foreign terror threatening to run up my spine and twist my mind down a never ending staircase of insanity. With great effort I pushed it all away, telling myself it was all coincidence, Luke couldn’t possibly have known about my dream, and his imaginary friend is just that; imagined.

DAD! Luke’s voice snapped me out of the whirling thoughts. Why do you keep looking like that?

I’m sorry, big man. What do you say to getting dressed so we can go over to see Aunt Molly for her birthday?

Are they going to have cake and ice cream?

Of course they are.

Oh yeah! Let’s get going.

Soon we were on the road and deep into a game that was played often while we drove. It was up to me to name the make and model of every car that passed us and it was up to Luke to see if I’d miss any.

His imaginary conversation was still eating at the back of my mind, but I felt bringing it up again would only frighten him, and I was already frightened enough for the both of us.

When we pulled up to my parent’s house, I could see that everyone had gathered in the backyard, so Luke and I grabbed the large gift bag out of the back of the SUV and made our way through the opened gate at the side of the house.

Mamaw, Papaw, Luke sang out as he ran to hug his grandparents.

I handed the present over to Molly and wished her Happy Birthday and the first words out of her mouth were; You look horrible! Haven’t you been getting any sleep lately?

My sister has always been the type to worry too much about everyone else.