HER: Chapter Two–Loss


–Jamie’s POV–

I wept, frozen there, Her surrounding me, laughing in my ear, watching me. She torments me with Her voice, Her touch, Her laugh. I can’t control this…! I can’t escape from Her….I try to force myself to move, to run, to escape. But I can’t leave Her.

Soft hair brushes against my cheek when She leans against me, breathing softly, Her body cold as night. “Leave me….”I beg. “Let me go….”

She laughs, whispering, “Never….I told you we were forever….”

I trembled, and finally escape from Her, bolting away. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” I cry, bolting away, howling. Families turn to me, startled into silence, thinking me mad as I sprint towards them, among them, away from them. I give them no glances, just keep running right on through.

And I feel Her come after me, hear their gasps and cries as they sense Her move among them, through them, changing them and freezing them cold.

I just keep running.

But I can’t escape Her.

I never can.

She waits until I reach the privacy of the outskirts of the park to come to me, resting Her hand upon my shoulder, whispering in my ear. “You know you won’t ever escape me, lover….You killed me….”

“I never was your lover….Logan was! Why must you torture me so…?”

“Because it was always you I wanted….” She murmurs into my ear, pressing up against me again. I shiver at the cold of Her, but I warm at Her touch. Why must She do this to me…? How can She control me so?

I break away from Her again.

I hear Her laugh behind me: “You may run from me, Jamie dear. I will go and visit Logan….”

I halt in my tracks, and yell, “No! Stay with me!”

Better me than him….

She laughs, but it fades into silence, and I no longer smell Her sweet scent, no longer sense Her nearby.

I fall to my knees, and pray.

–Logan’s POV–

How could I leave him behind?

I punch a wall, pulling my fist away and eyeing the blood. My eyes darken–why wasn’t I bleeding more? I had left him behind! Jamie….My best friend! I had abandoned him to torture, to hell! Only because I wasn’t strong enough to face the torture I was putting him through….The torture I caused! If it wasn’t for me being a cold bastard who can never love….If it wasn’t for me being drunk that night, I never would have gotten mad at Her, never would have followed Her up the stairs, never would have pushed Her from the balcony….

And then I feel Her.

Sense Her near me.

I smell Her skin, Her hair, and I feel Her hand on my shoulder. I tremble, filled with guilt and fear. Let the torture begin….I deserve this.

I feel Her press up against my back, and I hear Her voice, hauntingly familiar, in my ear: “Hello, Logan….”

I scream.

She only laughs, and I feel Her slip around me, stand in front of me, sling Her arms around my neck.

“I love you,” She whispers, before She kisses me, “And I won’t ever leave you….”

I shudder, but I kiss Her back. “I’m sorry for what I did to you….”

She pulls back, and even though I can’t see Her I sense Her smile. “Don’t be, love. I don’t blame you….I just want to be with you….”

I gently push Her away, my hands freezing. I walk to the window, and gaze out. I feel Her touch my shoulder gently, but I don’t turn to face Her. “I lost you…” I whisper, watching the world go by. My hand drips blood onto the wooden floor, and I lower my forehead to the glass so I can watch the blood fall.

I sigh, and I don’t speak again.

She doesn’t touch me.

Instead, I sense Her step away from me, and feel Her eyes focus on me. She doesn’t say a word.

But, then, I feel Her slowly fade away, Her voice murmuring as if from a million miles away: “You never lost me….I won’t ever leave you.”

And then, in an instant, She is gone.

I fall to my knees, but whether in relief or grief I do not know.

I cover my face with my hands, and burst into sobs.

“I love you….” I whisper.

I felt so weak, so cold. My eyes stayed locked open, even though the tears fell fast and hard, like rain. Like blood-red rain on the purest white snow. I gasped and groaned, fighting to breathe, but I couldn’t halt the unending flow of tears. Why did I feel so weak? It was just….It was just Her.

All the things we had done, all the memories, everything ran to my mind. I felt the memories consume me, flood me, horrific desire and tempting pain.

Oh god…..Oh god….

But a part of me knew—oh, how it knew!—that God had nothing to do with this. That He was not responsible for the love, for the desire, for the insane mad lust, that flowed within my veins whenever She was near. My Goddess. My false, fallen, broken, shattered, beautifulGoddess. Who I had adored, worshiped, loved, needed, craved….

Craved, and killed.

I thought back to when we had first met—the playground, grade five. Jamie had been climbing the tree, and he had spotted Her, higher than he could ever have even attempted to reach. She was small, dressed in long socks and black shorts, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles adorning Her skinny, skinny torso. He yelped in surprise at seeing her, and fell down, down, down….

And what was I supposed to do? I fell with him, reaching out in an attempt to catch him. We lost sight of Her in the scuffle that followed, and we didn’t see Her again for a long time.

But we spoke of Her enough to make it seem that She was always with us. We were obsessed with Her, and we did not know why we were.

I closed my eyes again, trying to force away the memories, but I knew it was useless. I knew it was hopeless.

She was with me, until the day I died….

And maybe even beyond.

–Her POV—

Such foolish boys! I laugh, staring at the images of them in wonder. Poor Logan, lost his mind, his body flooded with my memory—sex the only thing on his mind. And poor Jamie—what life could he have with me constantly so close?

Oh how delightful this was! Oh how easy they were to torture….A quick kiss on their cheek to send their heartbeats racing, a quick run kiss on the neck to make them beg….

And tada. They were mine. Driven mad by desire.

It was almost pathetically easy, but I delighted in it. I knew it was time to stop the games, and move them into checkmate. I had been toying with Jamie for so long now….

It was time to give the others a turn.


HER: Chapter One–Haunted


–Jamie’s POV–

I walked alone, listening to Unintended, daydreaming of Her. I could feel Her touch, hear Her voice, hear Her laugh. I could sense Her beside me, touching me, Her gentle laugh like a song to my ear. I smell the sweet perfume of Her skin, feel Her breath tickle my skin, tremble when She nestles Her face into my neck.

My gaze is drawn upwards, to the dimly shining sunlight broken by the network of branches, a net of night to catch the sun. I inhale the gentle scent of the wild: The perfume of the dew-wet grass, the musk of animals, and the soft scent of the trees. It soothed me, whisking away the scent of Her, gently washing away my agony. I paused, feeling the sensations: The gentle breath of the wind, the coolness of the shade, the idle warmth of the sun. I sigh, breathing deep, for once free.

But then I feel Her press up against me, feel Her breath warm my skin, feel Her tongue tickle my neck, feel Her lips kiss and wander the tender skin of my throat. I gasp, and murmur, “Oh, angel….Why do you torture me so?”

She laughs, and murmurs into my ear, soft as a dream, “Because you killed me….”

I force out a choking sigh, and She laughs once more, “But I didn’t kill you….”

She whispers back, Her voice soothing and tempting, “Because I haunt you….Like you haunted me….”

“But….I didn’t kill you….” I say again, trembling at Her touch.

“You have my blood on your hands….” She whispers, Her hand taking mine and raising it so Her eyes can gaze at the red upon it. I pull my hand away, and She slips around me, so She can gaze into my eyes. “You killed me….” She says again, “You have my blood upon your hands….”

I break into a sprint, running straight through Her, gasping at the sudden shock of cold as It blasts through me.

As I burst through the trees and into the clearing, startling families and halting conversations with my screams, I hear Her laughing behind me….

Torturing me.

But then I feel Her hands take mine….Draw me back into the shelter of the trees….

I let Her.

As I lose myself in Her sweet torture, watching the families slowly return to their laughter and their games, I spy a single young man rise from his seat ‘neath a tree, walk forwards, long-fingered hands slipping golden hair behind many-pierced ears.

As I hear Her laugh and as I tremble, I meet his all-too-familiar deep green eyes. He walks forward, his eyes wide, and I scarcely catch his murmuring voice on the breeze but I hear it nonetheless: “Jamie…?”

Her spell shatters, and She goes.

I fall to my knees, gasping for breath.

Logan runs to me, falling into a crouch beside me, grasping my shoulders. “Jamie, is that you?”

I fall into my old friend’s arms, crying. “Logan….” I force out, and he hugs me carefully, gently.

“Jamie….What has life done to you?” he asks, pushing me to arm’s length, regarding me with worried eyes.

I laugh, and regard him in turn. “Life has done nothing to me….You haven’t changed.”

He lapses into a frown. “Then what has changed you…? And just because my pretty face hasn’t changed doesn’t mean I haven’t,” he cracks a grin, trying to make me smile, “The last time we saw each other….You had Her blood on your hands, and I was all but dead. So I HAVE changed….I’m no longer bleeding out!”

He tries to smile again, but he fails.

We sit there, regarding each other, remembering. Struck by a sudden recollection, I say in a rush, “Do you remember when we climbed the tree that day–in grade five? I fell off the top branch, and you jumped after me, only to turn into a landing pad when we hit the ground.”

He laughs. “How could I forget? You always were a twig–but I didn’t know how much skinny bones can hurt until you stabbed me with your elbow.”

I laugh with him, thinking back. “If I remember correctly, you cried and punched me.”

He raises his eyebrows, smirking. “No….If my memory serves me rightly, it was you who cried when I punched you. And what could you have expected, young Jamie? You could’ve killed me with an elbow like that….”

I punch him on the arm, and he mimes a hurt expression, dropping his lower lip into an unhappy pout.

“Aw….Little Jamie thinks he can take me!”

I tackle him, and for a while we fight, wrestling, pinning each other like we had so many years ago. Logan, a young man who I hadn’t seen in three years, a young man who I had once viewed as my brother, who I loved with everything I was. This young man and I fought as we had once fought, before….Before Her.

But then we stop, and roll away from each other, pulling each other to our feet, gasping.

Gasping at Her touch, and hearing Her mocking laugh.

Logan’s eyes focused on mine, trembling, grasping my hand tightly. “Is it always like this…? Does She always….” He falls into silence, unable to speak as he trembles again.

“Torture me? Yes….Now that you’re near me, She tortures you, too….” I reply, and his hand tightens on mine one last time before he whirls away, breaking free of my hand, leaving me behind.

Before he returns to the park, Logan turns to me one last time, and yells in farewell, “I’m the one who killed her! I’m the one….I pushed her from the balcony!”

He starts back towards me, as if regaining a sense of strength.

I look at him, and gesture for him to go. “But you’re not the one She haunts….”

Logan’s eyes meet mine one last time, only a hundred meters away but yet so far, before he nods in thanks
and goes, leaving me behind him forever with the girl he killed.

She laughs, calling, “Goodbye, Logan dear! I will see you again soon….”

I tremble, and watch him break into a desperate run, escaping from the dark world he had cast me into, leaving behind his greatest friend.

“Goodbye….” I murmur.

HER: Introduction


Her is a novella I began several years ago, when I was much younger. I still fiddle with it every now and then, hence why I will be posting it here.

I often have difficulty describing it–it’s kind of a ghost love-story, with a relatively complex plotline. It’s somewhat twisted, occasionally edging into the pornographic, but nothing exactly overt. It reads a lot like a mystery novel, at times.

The title refers to an unnamed ghost woman who, while at a party with all of the main characters, plunged from a balcony to her death. She knows exactly how she died, but none of the other characters do, and she enjoys tormenting everyone who was there the night she died. She haunts them, punishing them for her death–and says that, when who pushed her from the balcony is brought to justice, she will leave them alone.

She has some poltergeist-abilities, so she definitely is able to torment everyone she finds. Meanwhile, her targets deal with their own personal issues; secrets don’t like to stay secret, when the dead are around.

I plan to post HER once a week, beginning with the seven previously-written chapters. These posts will occur on Wednesdays, and hopefully I will have more chapters when the old ones are done.

I hope you enjoy,

Half-Mad Writer