Penn had searched for what felt like hours. He shouted himself hoarse looking for the others. He began to feel discouraged. Not just discouraged, but also more than a bit desperate. "How could I lose them like that? I couldn't live with myself if something happened to them. I'm supposed to protect them. Oh, this is all my fault." Penn gave his surroundings one last desperate scan. He caught a glimpse of a clearing in his peripheral vision. He walked towards it.
Heather came to a sharp turn in the tunnel. She hesitated, then made the plunge. She turned to the right, following the path the tunnel was taking. After about twenty paces, she saw something in her path. It looked like a frail, thin person leaning against the wall. She came closer then drew back, a scream in her throat. It was a skeleton. The skull turned and the hollow eyes fixed upon her. The skeletal grin chilled her blood. She saw someone familiar standing beyond the skeleton. "Sketch!" Sketch turned and smiled at her. He turned slowly and walked away. Heather ran to catch up, using all of her courage to jump over the skeleton. After a turn in the tunnel, she lost Sketch. In front of her was an opening to the outside. She was finally out of the tunnel.
Igor caught a glimpse of someone walking through the trees nearby. She followed them to a clearing in the woods. She stopped among the trees at the edge, not yet ready to face what was in the clearing.
Teller turned once more and found a trail of neon carrot strips of fabric. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The strips were indeed real. He followed them and found himself in a clearing. He couldn't believe his eyes. He was back in the graveyard. Penn, Heather and Igor were there as well. Sketch, however, was not.
In the center of the grave yard were eight new headstones. In front of these headstones were eight freshly dug graves.
Teller moved closer to the headstones and shone his light on them. He dropped the flashlight in shock. He stood opening and closing his mouth for several seconds. Penn rushed to Teller's side and shook him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Teller simply stood staring at the headstone. He finally raised his arm and pointed at the headstone closest to him. Penn picked up the light that Teller dropped and examined the headstone. It read simply "Teller".
"Okay. This isn't funny anymore guys," Heather said in a shaky voice.
"Do I look like I'm laughing?" Penn said, his face a pasty white color. There came the sound of crackling leaves. Penn and Teller spun around quickly. Teller nearly fell into the open grave, but Penn grabbed him by his sleeve. The crackling increased in speed and volume. Sketch suddenly burst forth from the trees they were facing.
"Here you guys are. I was worried when I went back to the cabin and found it empty. We've got to--" Sketch was cut off abruptly. Penn had picked him up by his collar and was shaking him roughly.
"Is this your sick idea of a joke?!" Penn screamed angrily, turning Sketch to face the graves. "Is it?! If it is, then it's not in the least bit funny!"
"Oh no," Sketch murmured. "Oh no. Oh God no." Sketch's body shook as he gasped. "This... this is horrible. This isn't a joke."
"What do you mean it's not a joke? Of course it's not a joke. It's fucking sick!" Penn threw Sketch to the ground angrily. Sketch's body slid on the dry leaves.
Sketch stood slowly, gaping at the markers and the freshly dug earth. "I won't let it happen. Not again." He distractedly ran a hand over his sweaty face. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.
"What were you doing down in that tunnel, Sketch? How did you know I was there? How did you know it was there?" Heather asked, grabbing Sketch's arm.
"The tunnel? Was there a skeleton down there?" Sketch asked airily with a look of cool terror on his face.
"Yeah. Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?" Sketch stared off into space and his eyes slid out of focus.
"I've never been down in that tunnel," Sketch said. His voice became flat and childlike. "Right turn, skeleton, left, left, left at the fork, right, center path, right and the exit. Oh, we had so much fun down in the tunnels. Playing hide and seek with the other kids down here, letting them get lost. We never did try to find them did we?"
"What is wrong with you?" Igor said, shaking Sketch to get his attention.
"The cabin is empty. Where are the bodies?" Sketch asked no one in particular.
Teller finally found his voice. "We have to get out of here. But first we have to warn Chester."
"It's too late for Chester. And it's too late for us," Sketch said. "Too late for me at any rate. Get out of here. Find Chester's van and get out of here." Sketch handed them some car keys. He also handed Heather her bag. "You may need this." Sketch turned and examined the trees then plunged into the woods. Teller tried to grab him, but Sketch moved too quickly and was soon out of sight.
"Forget him," Penn said. "He can stay out here for all I care. His joke isn't funny anymore."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Let's go back to the cabin and get Chester," Igor said.
"But where is the cabin?" Heather asked.
"This way," said Sketch. He pointed through the woods to his left.
"Where'd you come from?" Teller asked. "You just ran that way." Teller pointed in the opposite direction.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Sketch smile genially. "Sorry I scared you guys. I hope you weren't too worried about me. Come on, let's get back to the cabin." Sketch headed through the woods.
"This is fucking nuts," Igor said. "He got us lost once tonight but I know I'm still going to follow him." She shrugged and shook her head seemingly at her own stupidity. The others followed too, Teller with his hand on his gun.
Soon the cabin could be seen, but once again, Sketch was nowhere to be found. Heather headed towards the cabin, followed by Penn and Igor. Teller hung back for reasons he himself couldn't understand. "There's something wrong here." Teller tried to think what it could be. "Guys, wait! Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this picture?"
"Like what?" Penn asked, puzzled, stopping in his tracks and turning to look at Teller.
"Why is the cabin so dark?" Igor asked stopping too.
"Maybe Chester and his family got tired of waiting up and decided to go to bed," Penn suggested.
"But it's a chilly night and the only heat source here is the fireplace, remember?" Heather said, suddenly catching on.
"Yeah and?" Penn asked, still not understanding.
"No smoke from the chimney and no light in the windows. You dummy, there's no fire," Igor said, annoyed that she had to spell it out for him.
Penn looked again. He finally noticed that something was seriously wrong. He drew his gun. "Good boy," Teller said, following Penn's example. They moved slowly towards the cabin, Penn on point and Teller bringing up the rear. Teller's eyes and ears were open and he was trying to pick up any signs of life in the area. Penn reached the door first. He took a deep breath and threw the door open.
The door hit the wall with a resounding bang. Penn scanned the room before cautiously entering. "This is not good. Where is everybody?" Penn headed across the room towards the bedrooms. He suddenly slipped on some fluid on the floor. His legs flew out from under him and he landed hard on his back. The fluid seeped through his pants. He put his fingers in it and brought it up to his face. It was blood.
"Oh god, it's all over the place. It looks like we missed the first battle of World War III," Igor said in a hushed voice.
There was blood on the floor, walls and, unbelievably, the ceiling. "Okay, what the hell happened here?" Penn said, trying to get to his feet. He had to crawl to a dry spot on the floor so he could stand.
"I don't think I want to know," Teller said in a voice that clearly indicated that he was on the verge of being very sick. Heather carefully approached the kids' room and threw the door open. She jumped back as something heavy swung from over the door.
It was a leg. There was more blood in this room. A large mound covered by a sheet lay on one of the beds. Penn approached with his pistol and the flashlight. Teller reached from behind him and tore the sheet away. A gruesome sight met their eyes. Cori lay in the bed, hacked to pieces mercilessly. There was a sudden thump from behind them. The door had slammed shut and Sandy, or what was left of her, was spread across the floor in front of it. There was no question that they were dead.
"What's that?" Heather shrieked pointing at something large in the corner. Penn shone the light over into the corner. Igor and Heather screamed in mingled terror and grief. Chester sat in the corner, blood dripping from numerous wounds, his mouth twisted into a gruesome, maniacal grin. He looked like a grotesque perversion of a ventriloquist's dummy, his head lolling on his shoulder and his eyes opened wide in horror.
Teller raised his eyes skyward in a gesture reminiscent of prayer. He fell back against Penn in surprise. Penn looked up too. Zach was on the ceiling in a position mimicking that of Jesus during the Crucifixion at Golgotha.
"I gotta get out of here," Heather said, covering her mouth to hold back the vomit climbing up into her throat. Teller was way ahead of her. He ran to the door, pushed Sandy's body out of the way and flung the door open. He went into the living room and headed for the door.
He twisted and tugged the door knob. The door was locked. From the outside! Teller threw himself against the door in some vain hope of knocking the door down. Needless to say, the door wouldn't budge. "What's that smell?" Igor said, loudly sniffing the air.
"Probably the blood. Or Chester and his family," Heather answered shuddering.
"No. I smell it too," said Penn. "It's..."
"Turpentine!" Igor finished. They turned and saw a message appearing on the wall over the fire place.
The message read as follows: "Four of the guests have arrived. Why don't you join us?" The message suddenly burst into flame and was seared into the wall. "I'm so fucking out of here," Penn said, charging at the door. He threw his shoulder against it and groaned in pain when he made contact.
"Tried that. Didn't work," said Teller, rubbing his own sore shoulder. He tried the door knob once more. It still didn't turn. He suddenly got a bright idea. He wrapped his hand in a handkerchief and smashed his fist through the window. The window shattered. He pulled out the larger pieces of glass and pushed Heather and Igor through before pushing himself out headfirst. Penn handed out his pistol and flashlight and climbed out too with some difficulty.
They turned and ran into Sketch. Sketch looked horrible. He was sweaty and out of breath. He didn't notice the others but ran straight towards the graveyard. Penn and Teller gave chase, Igor and Heather reluctantly following.
They caught him up in the graveyard. He disappeared into the woods, apparently chasing someone. Teller started after him but Penn held him back. He gestured towards the graves. Four of them were filled in. But there were five open graves and yet another headstone.
There was suddenly a scream coming from the direction in which Sketch ran. It ended abruptly. It was not a scream of fright or surprise, but of betrayal and pain. Sketch came running out of the forest from the opposite direction of the screams moments later. "You guys have to get out of here."
"Yeah, turn our backs so you can kill us too, huh?" Penn said in a wavering voice, tears choking his throat.
"What?" Sketch began to back away from them nervously.
"Where were you when Chester and his family were killed? Holding the knife I'll bet!" Penn screamed in a rage surpassing any he had felt before. His face grew red and his breaths came in long puffs. Sketch approached slowly, hand outstretched in a helpless gesture.
“How could you think that I could…? I would never..." Sketch began.
"Stay away from us," Teller hissed, aiming his pistol at Sketch's head. "You just stay away from us."
"Come on! You guys know me! I didn't do it. You have to believe me..." he whispered as tears formed in his eyes. He stood perfectly still.
"Yeah, just like you didn't write those messages," Igor snapped.
"Or go down in that tunnel," added Heather.
"Or get us lost out here in the middle of fucking nowhere!" Penn finished.
Sketch backed away at each harsh outburst as though they were knives cutting into his flesh. "Fine." He wiped away his tears, lifted his head, and pulled his gun out his waistband. Teller began to squeeze the trigger, prepared to kill or be killed when Sketch suddenly dropped the gun, turned and walked away. "Leave while there's still time. This is my last warning." He disappeared through the trees.
"He ain't said but a word," Igor said. "Let's go find that van and get out of here." It was about this time that Heather noticed that her bag was slightly heavier.
"What's this?" she said, more to herself than the others. She pulled out a large turquoise talisman. It looked like some sort of Indian totem. "Where did this come from?"
"Maybe you bought it somewhere and forgot you had it?" Penn suggested, not really paying attention. He was listening to make sure that Sketch was really gone.
"Yeah, maybe. It is kind of pretty though." Heather put the talisman around her neck. The group went to find the van. They found it parked a little way from the house. They jumped into the van and Penn put the key in the ignition. He turned it and there was, instead of the sound of a car starting, a funny clicking. He tried twice more before getting out and looking under the hood. The battery and spark plugs were gone! In their place was a note reading, "The start of your car lies at the start of the puzzle. Where the trouble began, you'll find its, or your, end."
"Where did all of this begin?" Igor asked.
"Well, this all started in the cabin," Penn said. They went to the cabin to see a message on the door reading, "No dice. Try Again." After some deep thought, Teller hit upon the solution.
"The cemetery. That's when everyone got lost right? Leaving the graveyard!" They came into the cemetery and young Sketch came in from the other side, whistling merrily as though without a care in the world.
Sketch was carrying a small item in his hands as he approached them. He looked over the graves and threw the item into one of them, seemingly at random. He filled in the grave and put his shovel against the headstone. He brushed off his hands and came up to them.
"Why are you guys out here? You should be in the cabin. It's late and you should be sleeping," Sketch said silkily.
"Are you insane? You murdering bastard! What makes you think we're dumb enough to do something like that? Where's the car battery?" Penn screamed.
"I'll give it back to you soon enough. After we play a little game," Sketch replied in reassuring tones. "What's wrong with you, Teller?" Teller was gradually backing away from him.
"Who the hell are you?" Teller asked in a quavering tone, slowly pulling his pistol out of his waistband.
"What do you mean?" Sketch returned, smoothly closing the distance between himself and Teller, apparently trying to back him against a tree.
"I know Sketch and he would never tell us to sleep at a time like this. He's a natural worry wart. And he keeps his knife on his left hip," Teller said through pursed lips as he leveled his pistol at "Sketch".
"Yeah, well, he was at any rate." The young man shrugged dismissively as he backed Teller further towards the trees.
"Was?" Teller repeated, beginning to falter.
"Yes. He's dead now. I offered him a chance, a way out, but he didn't want to cooperate." He smiled maliciously.
Teller turned sharply and began backing towards the graves, keeping "Sketch" at bay with the pistol.
"You don't have the guts. You couldn't kill another human being." His cold smile gleamed in the moonlight and his eyes slowly became narrow, menacing slits.
"You're not human. You're a fucking monster!" Teller put pressure on the trigger.
"What did you do to Sketch?" Penn asked.
"Hear those screams about twenty or so minutes ago?"
"Yeah."
"That was Sketch. Or at least his body."
"But then who warned us?" Heather asked slowly.
"Sketch. Ugh! I hate it when people won't just die quietly. Having him wandering around, I thought maybe you'd actually get away. But I guess I won't be starting the party without the guests of honor after all."
"Who are you?" Teller narrowed his eyes in anger and pure hatred. "I won't ask you again."
"This is becoming a bit cliché' but here it is. I'm Sketch's uncle. My brother was his great-great-great-great-grandfather. When I was a boy, I learned to preserve my soul in this world even after my body decayed and withered away." Here Igor's face twisted into an expression of disgust and loathing. "I preserved my body in the astral plane and waited there for others to accompany me. As you can see by my collection, I've got quite the little party going. I've been using my brother's descendants to lure people here for my purposes. Unfortunately, Sketch rebelled, so I had to kill him." Penn grew angry when he heard this last. A bitter knot of guilt twisted in his stomach. "It was a bit more difficult than I had anticipated.
"He was fighting me using telepathy, but I overcame him and he succumbed to my power. Now, nothing can stop me from making you all permanent residents of this forest." He began to laugh maniacally.
Heather fingered the talisman in fearful anticipation, willing it to end one way or the other. Teller, out of pure nervous terror, squeezed off a few rounds. His aim was dead on but the bullets did not have any effect whatsoever on Sketch's uncle.
"I told you, nothing can stop me." He gasped in shock. A figure stepped from behind the headstone.
"Yeah, Toran, except maybe me." Sketch balled up his fists.
"I thought I had rid myself of you."
"Yeah, you're pretty quick with those tricks of yours buddy, but I have a few of my own." The battle that ensued was the most brutal in the history of man on man wars. Sketch leapt upon Toran and there was a terrific power struggle. Toran smashed Sketch upon the head, and Sketch retaliated with a tremendous charge at Toran. Sketch was clearly the favorite in this fight and quickly gained the upper-hand.
Igor was directly in the path of the fight. She moved out of the way as fast as she could, and not a moment too soon, because Toran came flying past her as Sketch flung him with all the strength he could muster. Toran collided headfirst with a tree.
As Toran lay gasping on the ground, Sketch stood over him. Sketch planted his foot firmly in Toran's neck. As he unsheathed his knife, Toran said something too low for Sketch to hear. He was forced to repeat it again. "But how did you come back? I thought I was quit of you once and for all."
"I placed my soul in the talisman Heather wears upon her neck." Penn, Teller and Igor glanced from Sketch to the talisman and back to Sketch. Heather held it before her face and examined it in disbelief. "As long as that talisman is intact, I cannot be destroyed."
"Aha!" With a mighty heave, Toran pushed Sketch off of his neck and sent him sprawling to the ground. Toran leapt to his feet and ran towards Heather. Penn and Teller stood in his path to protect Heather, but they were flung aside like so much straw. As Teller and Penn rolled across the ground, holding their sore bodies, Sketch struggled back onto his feet.
Sketch sprang onto Toran just as his fingers wrapped around the talisman. The rawhide holding the talisman broke and the totem went flying. Sketch lunged for it, but Toran pushed Sketch back by the face. Penn was laying on the ground watching all of this unfold, helpless and unable to offer any aid. Teller was hanging in a grave, head in, legs out, unconscious.
Sketch held Toran back by the legs, but he slipped out of his grasp. Toran wrapped his fingers around the talisman, and just as he pressed his hands around it to destroy it, Sketch buried his knife up to the hilt in Toran's back. Toran bled black blood, withered into dust and vanished.
Sketch stood and handed Heather back the talisman. "I think Teller found your car parts. You can leave now." Sketch sighed sadly. "I wish I could go with you, but I must remain here. We were friends for a minute." Sketch stood on his grave. He waved and faded from sight.
Heather sobbed as Teller drove them away from the police station. Penn and Igor tried their best to tell the police about what happened in the woods, leaving out the part about the fight between the ghosts. Even in the Pine Barrens, such tales were not often believed. They spun a tale of a madman killing their companions and hunting them through the woods. The police had no trouble believing the story. There had apparently been a spate of such murders in that area for years. They were still trying to track down the killer.
As they drove along the New Jersey Turnpike, Teller choked back sobs. He was going to miss Sketch. He had known Sketch for only a short time, but in that time he became like a nephew to him. He cried quietly. The mood in the car was somber. No one looked forward to telling Sketch's mother of his fate.
As Teller focused on the road, flatly refusing to speak for the duration of the trip, Penn popped a tape into the radio at random. It just happened to be Sketch's tape. It was a mix of a variety of music by several artists. Towards the end of the tape, Teller had to pull over. There was a demo of a song that Sketch had written. The intro alone was enough to make Teller put his face in his hands and bawl.
"My name is Truman, and this is my band. Ed Burgos on bass guitar, Cat Chaser on harpsichord and my man Mark Wall on drums. This is a song I wrote for my family and I hope you like it," Sketch's voice spoke in the heavy silence in the car. "I don't know how to say this, but the time has come to part. I'll love you for always, you'll remain in my heart. The good times I'll remember, the sad times I'll forget. I know that you'll all miss me, but my life ain't finished yet. I may not come back home to you, but my life ain't finished yet. Got so many ambitions, got so many dreams. So many things I wanna do and places I wanna see. I'm packing up my things and hitting that highway. I know you'll be pining for me, but I gotta leave today. Part of me'll always be here, but I gotta leave today...."
Heather put her face in Igor's shoulder and sniffled. Penn stared out the window, all cried out, red-rimmed eyes unfocused. Teller composed himself after a while and continued the drive to Sketch's house to present his mother with what belongings he brought with him and to make a clean breast of the whole situation.
Back in the Pine Barrens, in the pitch black of the night, there were the usual night time sounds. There were owls hooting, bats screeching and leaves rustling as mice foraged about for food. Suddenly there was silence. In the eerie silence, the only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing. If you listened closely, you might have heard a cackling laughter and the sound of a shovel moving soft earth in preparations for more company. After all, misery loves company but death loves a party. Did you get your invite?