What Lies Beyond

By Zachary Betters

Charles Vinley is an average, humble New Jersey father of two young teenage boys, always trying to make the decisions that better him and his family. As the only provider for his two kids since the tragic death of his wife, Charles takes a job promotion which requires them to move to a new home in Kansas. Upon arrival, the three family members are shocked to find their new home has been dismantled by a tornado. With nowhere else to live, the Vinleys are forced to stay in a nearby hotel, The Thornhall. One strange hotel owner. Many mysterious residents. Frequent abnormal happenings. These all await the Vinleys in their new residence. Charles suspects that with all the nightmarish events happening around them in the hotel, his family’s own safety is at risk. With unfortunate circumstances preventing his departure from The Thornhall, Charles decides to push forward to get to the bottom of whatever is causing the imminent danger and cowers not from what may lie ahead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387413096

Book preview

What Lies Beyond

What Lies Beyond

By Zachary Betters

Cover Illustration by Josiah Jones

Edited by Leigh Ann Betters

ISBN: 978-1-387-41309-6

Copyright (C) 2018 ZACHARY BETTERS.

Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document

under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.3

or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation;

with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.

A copy of the license is included in the section entitled "GNU

Free Documentation License".

The Story

THWACK!!! The rugged stick smacked the surface, snapped at the half, and left small wooden chips in its path. The object’s whip sent its racket all around the area. Were there passersby there to hear it? Most definitely, although strangely enough, not one had the slightest intention of tilting to their sides or twisting their heads to get a grasp of the commotion. Only those who were near paid attention.

It was the spirit of the dead! a kid exclaimed in a high voice.

Those words tickled the hairs of the surrounding pre-teen group. Their eyebrows rose. Their breaths had escaped. The noise of the air was silenced.

Wh-what happened? another boy asked, sitting about an arm’s length away from the first but inching closer after hearing such a commanding statement.

The one who was questioned picked up both halves of the stick and tossed them into the firepit. As he opened his mouth, not just the one but both kids in front of him raised their palms, gently rubbing the skin of their lower lips –cold fingers covering their mouth. What happened? the storyteller inquired. They nodded, and he smirked.

For Pete sake, just finish the story, Skyler! hesitantly demanded a young, dark-skinned kid. The volume of his voice starting to rise but quickly lowered halfway through his statement.

Skyler continued. After slamming the door and locking it from inside, the man thought he was safe in the closet…

No, he’s not! No, he’s n—

Let me finish, Russ! Skyler immediately said, cutting Russ’s statement short in the same way he had done to him. It got quiet in that room. Almost as quiet as it is in this neighborhood right now… He caught his breath again and began to think that the coast was clear. After a minute of waiting, the man unlocked the door and peeked his head out. Seeing only the chair knocked over, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary anymore. He reached for the chair to set it back upright.

The air once again grew empty of noise. What could be heard were the few grasshoppers in the distance, the rustling of the leaves around them, and the crackling of the campfire in front of them.

Once again, the silence was broken, this time by the sudden commotion spewed from Skyler’s mouth. Words cannot explain the noise he uttered, only that it slightly resembled a young pup barking. As he shouted, he snatched at the air and said with great passion, Before the man knew it, the haunting figure took his soul right from his chest!

Still sitting, Russ and the slightly older kid next to him, Josiah, scooted backward and raised their hands further to cover their eyes. Morbid curiosity caused them to peak between their fingers. 

Skyler’s menacing grin slowly faded into a neutral expression. His clenched fist softened, and both his arms lowered onto his lap. Oh, come on, he complained after a short pause, untwisting his legs from a crisscrossed position. That story isn’t scary. You guys are babies.

Russ repositioned his body, which was awkwardly contorted from the shock of Skyler’s commotion. After doing so, he quietly stated, I guess it was just a silly story.   

Of course, it was, chimed in Josiah confidently. I don’t believe in ghosts, Skyler, but man did you give me chills!

Neither do I, but I always love being the one to tell up spooky tales, replied Skyler, twiddling all his fingers in the air. He looked over to Russ who seemed absorbed in his own thoughts. Skyler chuckled to himself after taking notice. How about you? he asked as he lifted his head upward.

What about me? tentatively replied Russ, his complexion now paler than normal.

Do you believe in ghosts? he quickly retorted, not skipping a beat.

Russ, avoiding eye contact at that moment, took a deep breath. He then spoke but stumbled over his own words. He began with I think but had trouble finding the necessary words to explain his thoughts on the matter.

You’re still recovering from my story, aren’t you? asked Skyler. So, the better question is: are you afraid of ghosts?

I would rather they not exist, Russ admitted with aggression.

Skyler jumped up in a flash, blurting out the words, You are afraid, then! Haw, haw!

You don’t know how dangerous they can be! hastily replied Russ.

You’re not denying it! You’re afraid! What have they ever done to you?

Still as quiet as dust falling on a soft carpet, Russ sat there and gazed at the fire, his friends uncertain about at what he was thinking. A single flame from the fire, slightly bluer than the rest, captured Russ’s attention. It wiggled around, eating the wood chippings at its feet and singing blissfully to its brothers and sisters. He didn’t look away. He couldn’t. One would say it was almost as if a rope was knotted around Russ’s eyes, pulling them in the direction of that little flame.

In that moment, the flame morphed into a small lady, grew eyes, and gazed upon Russ. He immediately took notice of this and grew even more fascinated. The eyes suddenly grew larger, and right below them appeared a large mouth. Now showing the expression of rage mixed with sorrow, the flame gave out a loud cry.

Russell!

The boy shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He redirected his attention at Skyler. What?

Are you ok? We can talk about something else if you want, Skyler murmured.

Russ nodded and looked back at the strange, human-like flame. This time it was shaped just like any other regular flame. Slowly, it swayed back and forth and then soon died out. It only took several seconds until Russ stopped thinking about that one strange flame. When he did, he and his two friends continued talking, this time about sports and school. It was no doubt that the kids were no longer shaken by Skyler’s ghost story. They ended up enjoying the rest of that evening, with no moments of unspoken silence between them. Their time came to an end when Josiah spotted a car parking in front of Russ’s house.

There’s my mom, he said. Let’s go, Skyler. Russ, this was fun as always.

Same time next week? asked Skyler while pointing his fingers.

As expected, Russ responded with, Sounds good. Later, guys, and the two kids left.

After cleaning up the backyard in the dark of the night, Russ walked inside the house and found his dad, who was in his early 40s, washing the dishes in the kitchen sink.

Fun night? his dad asked, and Russ slowly nodded. Perhaps not? What’s the problem? You guys seemed to be having fun, playing games, running around, laughing by the fire.

Russ looked up at him and opened his mouth to speak, but, as before, he couldn’t get any words out. His father bent down to his level. They stared at each other’s green eyes, the dad’s covered by his glasses, Russ’s slightly covered by his shaggy brown hair. I saw mom, Russ finally whispered. A tear rolled to his corner lip. 

What? his dad immediately replied.

Russ continued. We were talking about ghosts and then I saw a vision of mom in the fire.

How was she? Russ’s dad asked with noticeable anticipation in his voice.

Russ shook his head. She seemed in pain…

His dad’s leftover grin from anticipation was replaced by drooping eyes and lips. A sudden buzz was heard in the distance. I better go get that, he sulked. He then hugged Russ and picked up the vibrating phone on the table.

Charles! How are you doing? Is now a convenient time? asked a man on the other side of the phone.

Actually, this isn’t the best time. Can it wait? responded the dad through his teeth while still staring at Russ.

Then make time, Charles, because this is about your new position.

After hearing this, Charles squinted his eyes and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. After a short pause, he agreed to talk and moved into the living room. Give it to me, he started in a hushed tone.

Things are looking good for you, the man on the other line started. Mr. Stattin is having a change of heart. Looks like you’re going to get that executive marketing position after all.

In an instant, Charles’s face brightened, and his heart began to race. He looked over to where Russ was sitting and nearly expressed a smile but lost it once he realized Russ had left the room. He looked away and faced the corner of the room. That’s fantastic to hear, Francis. What else can you tell me?

Francis told him further information regarding his current position and the changes that would be made going into his new, higher position. Charles’s eagerness subsided after he heard Francis’s next words, There’s just one catch.

I’m listening, he replied hesitantly.

Since you are going to be our marketing executive, you are going to have to work at the Fender’s Co. main campus. It’s out West.

Charles gave a quick response. How far west are we talking about? Pennsylvania? Ohio?

Wichita, actually. It’s a city in Kansas. That’s…what? About thirteen-hundred miles away from here? Francis explained.

Charles was silent.

Vinley, look, if you are trying to get a higher position than your current one, then you’re going to have to go searching elsewhere than the middle of New Jersey. Spread out your horizon, a bit, aye? I thought you wanted this job.

I do, Francis. I do. I’m willing to take the position but…but I’m worried about my two boys.

Did you tell ‘em anything yet?

No, Charles replied quickly and quietly. I haven’t told them anything. As far as they know, I’m content with my current position.

Well, if you want to be the Fender’s Co. new marketing-executive, then you’re going to have to tell your kids. Sooner or later, Mr. Vinley, Francis replied somewhat impatiently.

Charles agreed.

In four months, you are going to have to be ready for your first new work day in Wichita. I’ll see you this Monday. With that and a click of a button, their conversation ended.

Charles put the phone down and stared straight ahead, lost in thought. Creaking snapped him out of his thoughts, and Charles looked up to see his teenaged son, who had short curly hair (similar looking to Russ’s, yet not as long) and an athletic build, standing at the front door.

You’re home early, Charles commented quietly.

Practice was cut short this time. Coach thinks we’re ready for Saturday.

In his head, Charles rehearsed how was going to break the news of their impending move, and then he visualized his son’s reaction. Unacceptance and anger. Pure anger. In actuality, they both stood in awkward silence.

I’m going up to my room. Good talk, I guess? his son stated as he began walking up the stairs next to the hallway which led to the kitchen.

Charles only stood there and finally managed to get out the word, Grayson!

His son walked back down a few steps and stopped. Yeah, dad?

Goodnight.

Yeah, goodnight. 

No more words were exchanged that night in the Vinley’s household. By midnight, all the lights were out. Russ slept quietly in his room, his brother in his. As for Charles, he tried sleeping on his queen-sized bed, but thoughts of potentially a whole new lifestyle for not just him, but for his boys, bounced around his mind. Anxiety kept him awake. It pulled his brain back into reality with every drift of sleep that fell upon him. He asked himself if he really needed that promotion. Was it worth it? As the only money provider for the family, he was struggling. He and his lovely wife had done just fine when they both were around. They worked at their respective jobs and brought in a comfortable income for their household. Charles never planned to be the only money provider for his small family, dating all the way back to when he first picked his major and had only thoughts of being a father, but since the end of that last year, his situation became exactly that.

Grayson, his son, was fifteen, not yet old enough to earn an income by state laws. Perhaps if they waited another year or two, the Vinley’s could have two money providers in the family once again; Grayson could get a job and help his father pay for the necessities. That would for sure take the stress off Charles’s shoulders.

No. He didn’t want to take that chance. The promotion he had been dreadfully asking for and working toward for so long was finally offered to him. He had earned it. This is what he had been working for. In this, the decision became clear: it was time for him to move back to Kansas.

The doors opened. The lights glimmered. Grayson stepped through the double doors. Scanning the area, he took a deep breath and pounded his chest with a firmly clenched fist. Several other teen boys entered the building through the back door. Grayson picked up a basketball lying on the floor and spun it on the tip of his index finger.

Lower the rims! shouted an old man as he arrived, interrupting Grayson’s eagerness to start dribbling the basketball.

Grayson eagerly ran over to an electronic wall panel and pushed a button. On each side of the nearly spotless court, basketball rims dropped from the ceiling. He threw the ball to one of the ten other kids wearing a green basketball uniform, clapped his hands once, and that kid threw him the ball. Before he began to