Laying The Dead To Rest…Again

Here’s the final part of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

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By the time they had returned to the cemetery, the witching hour had fallen. The bones were returned to where they needed to be. For the Jennings and Newcombe families, that meant re-interring them within their respective tombs in their family mausoleums. The identification was done with help from the owners, as everyone knew their own when they saw them. The tombs were then tidied up as best as they could be, and plans made to have the damage fixed and put right so that they would eventually be as good as new again.

Then it was time to go and see Shelly. On the way, they stopped at the tomb of Dr Moran. His services would be required that night, and he was eager to oblige.

When they arrived at the bone house where Shelly had been resting, a small crowd had gathered. A cheer went up. Jabez bowed appreciatively at this recognition. Tabitha curtsied. Damon nodded but refrained from any further acknowledgement. After all, he was only doing his job.

Inside, Littla Ada was holding the gloved hand bones of Shelly.

‘She’s been awfully brave, hasn’t she, Damon,’ the girl said.

With the other hand, Shelly wiped a tear that no-one could see from her eye. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down,’ she whispered to Damon, visibly emotional and relieved. ‘And you’ve brought Dr Moran too! How wonderful!’

‘Well, I thought, the sooner we get you fixed up, the sooner you can be back up on them pins.’ He grinned down at the skeleton.

‘How bad is it, doctor?’ Shelly asked.

Dr Moran lifted the Damon’s coat which was still draped over the skeleton, to evaluate her injuries. ‘Nothing we can’t repair. Don’t worry, Shelly, you’ll be up and about again in no time.’ To the others, he said, ‘Can I ask you all to step outside while I perform the surgery.’

They all did as they were bid. A few hours later, the doctor exited the mausoleum to give them the good news that Shelly’s surgery had been successful. However, she was exhausted after all she had been through, and he had taken the decision to keep visitors away while she rested for a day or two.

The crowd dispersed shortly after, leaving Damon, Jabez and Tabitha alone.

‘Well, that was an interesting few days,’ Jabez commented. ‘Hopefully I’ve fulfilled my obligation as your deputy and can now be released from any such commitments in future?’

‘Of course. Thank you.

‘We couldn’t have done it without you,’ Tabitha chipped in.

Jabez’s undead eyes sparkled with interest. He took up Tabitha’s hand and kissed it. ‘My fair lady.’

She grimaced. That was not what she had intended.

‘You better head on home,’ Damon said to the revenant, seeing how unhappy Tabitha looked. ‘And you look exhausted,’ he said to the witch. ‘It’s been a hard twenty four hours for everyone.’

They all went their separate ways, Tabitha muttering to herself as she went, promising to wash her hand before it touched and contaminated anything else. Damon returned to his mausoleum, feeling bone tired.

He made himself a hot chocolate and changed into some loungewear. Wrapping himself in his second favourite poncho (the first was still wet from the soaking the night before), he decided to sit on his porch and look out over the cemetery as he unwound.

‘Hello, Mr Damon,’ a voice suddenly said from out of the darkness at the side of the bone house.

Damon sat up sharply, recognising the voice of Mortuatus.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said in that strangely gentle way of his. ‘It was not my intention to startle you.’

Damon invited Mortuatus up on to the porch. He knew not to invite him inside, just in case he was a vampire.

‘I hear the bonestealers have been dealt with.’

‘Yes, that’s all sorted now.’ Damon sipped his hot chocolate. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Well…you know…When we spoke earlier, I mentioned to you that I had returned to novel writing.’

‘You did.’

‘Well…’ Mortuatus sounded nervous. ‘I haven’t told anyone else yet. Just you…It’s been so long and I might be a out of practice. Anyway, I was wondering if you would do me the honour of having a read of manuscript and let me know what you think.’

‘Of course.’ Damon enjoyed a good tale. ‘What’s it called?’

‘A Story To Die For.’

The End

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 13: The Witching Hour

My thanks to everyone who has read, liked and commented on this story. Your encouragement has been well-received, I can assure you 🙂 And I have had so much fun writing it.

My thanks also to those who have joined in with the prompts. If you haven’t already, head over to the main prompt post (link above) and find the links in the comments to some truly amazing writing by some truly talented writers and poets. I’ve had as much fun reading these stories and poems as I had writing my own contributions.

And that’s it for another year. I hope you all had a Blessed Samhain,

Sammi x

The Bones The Bonestealers Stole

Here’s part 12 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

Photo by cottonbro on

A couple of the ghosts joined the trio in the fight against the bonestealers that night. Fred and Cora Jennings, the son and daughter-in-law of Mr and Mrs Jennings, and Jack Newcombe, the ghost who had managed to give them a map of the building, had decided this fight was theirs and that they couldn’t in good conscience sit it out.

They sneaked into the shop from the rear entrance, having gained admittance to the yard behind via a gate in the cemetery’s perimeter wall. Damon made a note to have all the gates sealed from the cemetery side so that this could never happen again. Then, with his mind firmly on the task at hand, he gave Jack Newcombe the signal. The ghost entered the building and opened the door from the inside, allowing the more solid undead and the witch admittance.

The ghosts spread out through the building, while Damon and Jabez guarded the entrances. These bonestealers were not going to get the chance to leave before they had taken back the bones which did not belong to them. Tabitha, with her bag of magical tricks, waited in the shadows of the stairs.

When everyone was in place, it began.

The ghosts started flying at the bonestealers and screaming. They all jumped in terror. One woman fainted.

They herded them into the one room, five in total, and one fainter, and when they were sure there were no strays hiding elsewhere in the building, Tabitha stepped forward and released her first spell.

It was a sealing charm.

‘What’s she doing?’ one of the bonestealers asked, while another tried to open the window, his intentions clear. Even though it was unlocked it wouldn’t open.

‘I think you have your answer. No one is leaving until we say so.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Where are the bones?’

‘Umm…we don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,’ one of the men said.

‘I suggest you don’t lie,’ Damon said calmly. Then pointing at Jabez, he said, ‘Do you know what it’s like to be bitten by a revenant?’

Jabez stepped forward and grinned. One of the women screamed, and pulled one of the men in front of her. Over his shoulder, she said, ‘It was her. It was all her idea. She made us do it. We didn’t want to. Honest.’

They were well and truly spooked! The rest of the group backed away until one woman was standing on her own. She was pale and had wrapped her arms about herself defensively. Every now and then her eyes flicked over at Jabez to make sure he hadn’t crept closer.

It was to her that Damon directed his next words. ‘The bones. I won’t ask again.’

The bones were handed over without fuss or quibble. They were checked and double-checked to ensure they were all there, before Damon was happy to bring this confrontation to its conclusion.

To all of them, he said, ‘Keep out of the cemetery. If I catch you there again, you’re going to be the worst kind of sorry.’ He exchanged a look with Tabitha, who clicked her fingers to remove the sealing spell.

They watched as the bonestealers fled the building, carrying the still prone figure of the fainted woman between them.

‘Is the house empty?’ Tabitha asked the ghosts. They nodded in the affirmative. ‘Good. Then I think we are ready to teach these people a final lesson. Shall we step outside into the yard?’

When they were all outside, Tabitha faced the jewellery shop and raised her arms. Then she uttered some words Damon didn’t quite catch before opening a spell bottle and releasing a silver-blue smoke. They all watched enthralled as it swelled in size, so much so that it eventually enveloped the whole building. Then, in a blink of an eye, it was gone. In it’s place were piles of bricks, slate roof tiles, wooden beams, crumbled plaster and panes of glass. The building had been reduced to its constituent parts, all in silence. Whatever else was contained within in the building, such as furniture, photos, crockery, wiring, computers, and everything else, was gone.

‘They won’t be opening again,’ Tabitha said, dusting off her hands in satisfaction.

To be continued…

Read The Final Part Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 12: Spooked

Knowing the Enemy

Here’s part 11 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

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‘Oh, look. It’s Damon and Jabez,’ one of the ghosts said. ‘Sorry about that, fellas. We thought you were them bonestealers after more of our mortal remains.’

Members of the Jennings and Newcombe families quickly explained to Damon and Jabez what they were doing. They ignored Tabitha completely, being “one of them live one’s, like the ones who took our bones”.

It transpired that the two families had both had their bones disturbed and rib bones had been taken. Fearing the return of the bonestealers, they had decided to join forces and attack them should they come back for more, but they hadn’t.

‘Please ask her to leave,’ Mrs Jennings pleaded with Damon. ‘I’m not at all comfortable being in the same room as a live one. It brings it all back.’

‘Now, Mrs Jennings, you know Tabitha. She’s here to help get your bones back.’

‘She is?’ Mrs Newcombe didn’t sound too sure.

‘Yes. She is.’

At that moment, Tabitha’s phone started to ring, making them all jump.

‘I’ll take it outside,’ Tabitha said and then slipped out the door. She returned a few minutes later. ‘Got them!’ she announced triumphantly.

‘Who are they?’

‘A high-end occult jewellery company called “Exquisitely Bonafide”. Bonafide sounds like bone. I imagine they were very pleased with themselves for that. More importantly, they have a little shop that backs onto the cemetery.’

‘Right. Let’s go,’ Damon declared.



‘Not yet.’


‘Because I think we are going to need a plan.’

‘She’s right, Damon,’ Jabez interjected. ‘Best do it properly, if we’re going to do it at all. Barging in there, reading them the riot act ain’t going to get anyone’s bones back.’

Damon conceded that Tabitha and Jabez had a point.

‘All right, then. Any ideas?’

‘I have a few spells up my sleeve.’

Damon looked at her sharply. ‘Is that wise?’

‘Damon! I saved you from being sacrificed last year with a spell or two. And don’t you forget it.’

‘I won’t…only…Janey and the snakes for hair incident was a little more recent.’

‘Your lack of faith in me is really quite hurtful.’

‘Not to mention rude,’ Jabez added. ‘You want to cast a spell or two, you go ahead, love. I don’t care if these bonestealers end up with a head full of snakes or get turned into toads, rats or worms.’ Jabez put his arm around Tabitha’s shoulder. ‘I like a woman who can do magic,’ he winked.

Tabitha casually shrugged her shoulders to dislodge the offending arm and stepped away, putting a little distance between herself and Jabez. ‘Right so. You lot get thinking. I’ll see you at sunset. I have a cauldron to stir and a potion to brew.’

* * *

Sunset came around quicker than Damon would have liked, but he had the bare bones of a plans and a lot of righteous anger to make up for anything he had forgotten about. Tabitha had her concoctions. They had also had a map.

During the day, one of the Newcombe sons had done a little reconnaissance. As a ghost, he managed to sneak into the building where “Exquisitely Bonafide” was based, and not be seen. So at least they now knew the lie of the land.

They were as prepared as was possible. There was nothing else to do but go and pay these bonestealers a visit.

To be continued…

Read Part 12 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 11: Stirring the Cauldron

A Host of Ghosts

Here’s part 10 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

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The message was sent. All Damon and Tabitha had to do was wait for a reply, which was probably some hours away given the fact it was still early.

They headed back to Damon’s mausoleum. He was in dire need of a hot chocolate. When they got there they found Jabez sitting on the steps outside.

‘Thank heaven’s!’ Jabez exclaimed getting to his feet. ‘I was beginning to worry something had happened to you over at Midnight Mansion. Where have you been?’

Damon looked at Jabez and sighed. ‘So you thought I may have been in danger and decided to wait to see if I could get myself out of it? Very helpful.’

‘Well…you don’t look any the worse for it, whatever happened.’

‘Actually, apart from Mortuatus giving me the willies, he was in fact, remarkably helpful. Come inside. We will exchange information over beverages. I’m gasping.’

All three of them went into Damon’s home. Like most bone house residences, only a fraction of the floorspace was to be found above ground. Given Damon’s job though, he made sure the upper room, usually reserved for tombs, was suitably kitted out for receiving visitors.

He indicated for them to sit around the table while he made three mugs of hot chocolate, which when ready, he placed before them. As they drank, Damon filled Jabez in on what they had so far learnt.

‘That’s not nice,’ Jabez commented when Damon had finished. ‘Not nice at all. Yet not a surprise, given what I found out from taking those witness statements.’

‘Go on,’ Damon encouraged.

‘Well, it seems a couple of folk have spotted some unusual activity over at the Newcombe bone house.’

‘What sort of activity?’ Tabitha asked.

‘Well, they weren’t specific and when I pressed them on it, they clammed up. Seems what happened to Shelly has really made folk nervous. And I don’t blame them.’

‘Neither do I,’ Damon agreed. ‘Right-so,’ he said, pushing away from the table. ‘I guess we are heading over to the Newcombes to see what’s what.’

‘Still need me?’ Jabez asked, his voice hopeful. ‘Or is my part in this now concluded?’

‘You’re coming with us, Jabez.’

The revenant sighed but had the sense not to argue.

They didn’t have far to go. The Newcombe mausoleum was only on the other side of the little copse known by the locals at The Wee Woods.

Once they got there Tabitha was again made to wait outside while Damon and Jabez made sure it was safe. Unlike at the Jennings bone house, the door here was properly closed. Damon gave it a shove with his shoulder, expecting it to require a bit of effort, but the door opened easily, and he fell inside, Jabez hot on his heels.

Not one, not two, but it seemed a whole host of ghosts, suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and began to attack them. Jabez screamed obscenities as Damon tried to reason with them.

Yet it was Tabitha that got the ghosts to stop, her presence taking them unaware.

‘What on earth is going on? It’s so busy it’s like a ghost town in here!’

To be continued…

Read Part 11 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 10: Ghost Town

At The Bone House

Here’s part 9 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

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The sky was beginning to lighten, and all traces of the storm, except for the damp grass and puddles, had gone. Tabitha was in no mood to go home and sulk. Instead, she offered her services to help Damon find out who had hurt Shelly.

Together they crossed the cemetery, heading to the Jennings mausoleum. When they arrived at the bone house, nothing looked out of place. That was, until Damon approached the door. It was slightly ajar.

‘Wait here while I check it’s safe,’ Damon said, insisting Tabitha remain on the path that ran in front of the row of monumental burials.

Tabitha rolled her eyes. ‘Even in death, guys still have to be macho, don’t they? You do know it’s the twenty first century, Damon. Forcing people into traditional gender roles is frowned upon now.’

‘Tabitha. You’re not exactly equipped to fight a horde of bonestealers, are you?’

‘All right. Point taken. Go if you’re going.’

Damon pushed open the door and was shocked by what he found; a level of desecration he had never before seen in this cemetery. Tombs had been smashed open, and the departed had been disturbed. The question was, where were the ghosts of the Jennings family?

‘Hello?’ he called out, but received no answer.

He retraced his footsteps back to the door and beckoned Tabitha inside.

‘Oh my! This is awful!’ Tabitha said. ‘How could anyone do this?’

Damon didn’t know how to answer that. Instead he said, ‘ Take a look around and see if you can find any clues.’

They began their search. Damon could see perfectly well in the darkness of the vault, thanks to his demon-ness. Tabitha used the torch on her phone.

‘Look at this,’ Damon said, handing over the scrap of paper he had found, half hidden beneath a broken fragment of stone. ‘It says, “Jack O’Lantern Lane”. What do you think it means?’

Tabitha’s face lit up. ‘I know exactly what it means, Damon. It’s the name of a wholesale occult supplier.’

‘And you know that because?’

‘Because I use them on occasion. And, I can’t tell you something even better.’

‘You can?’

‘Yep. I have a friend who works in their office.’

Damon’s face broke out in a smile. ‘Do you think-‘

‘I could ask them if they can find out who else they have on their books in the local area?’

‘You read my thoughts.’

Tabitha got out her mobile phone and started typing.

To be continued…

Read Part 10 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 9: Jack O’Lantern Lane

Bad Business

Here’s part 8 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

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Damon thanked Mortuatus and left Midnight Mansion as quickly as he could. The front door opened automatically to allow him out, and noiselessly clicked closed once he was outside. He breathed a sigh of relief and hoped he never had to step foot inside that mausoleum ever again.

In an effort to put some distance between him and Mortuatus, Damon decided to head straight for the Jennings bone house to see if he could discover why it interested the bonestealers and perhaps more importantly, what they meant by the source having run dry.

Yet he hadn’t gone far when Damon heard shouting.

‘Look. It was an accident. They do happen every now and then.’ That was the voice of Tabitha Stephenson.

The second voice, Damon did not recognise. ‘If you’re so accident prone as a witch, why don’t you have the sense to retire?’

‘That’s hardly fair.’

‘You’re the worst witch ever. Do I get my money back?’

‘No, as you very well know. Everything was set out in the Terms and Conditions you agreed to at the start.’

‘I did not agree to this!’

‘Well you should have read the small print, shouldn’t you? That, my dear, is on you, not me!’

‘Can you undo what you have done?’

‘No, and I wouldn’t even if I could. You don’t need a beauty charm. You need a lesson in civility. Here it is.’

‘Wait! You can’t leave me looking like this. Tabitha!’

‘Stop moaning. It will wear off. Eventually.’

Tabitha pushed her way through the curtain of weeping willow branches and found herself standing before Damon.

‘As if by magic, my best buddy appears out of thin air,’ Tabitha said, a little unenthusiastically. ‘I guess you sensed I needed cheering up?’

‘Another happy customer?’

Tabitha gave Damon a withering look.

‘What happened this time?’

‘I didn’t spot the beauty spell Janey had chosen had a teeny weeny, almost glyph-like drawing of Medusa in the margin.’

‘She’s got a head full of snakes?’

Tabitha nodded. Her face was grim. ‘It’s been a tough night, Damon. I’m not going to lie. Tell me something to cheer me up.’

Instead, Damon recounted the attack on Shelly, his deputising of Jabez and his visit to Midnight Mansion to see Mortuatus. It seemed everyone was having a bad night.

To be continued…

Read Part 9 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 8: As If By Magic

Midnight Mansion

Here’s part 7 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

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Damon gulped. He didn’t like the sound of interrupting Mortuatus’s meal time, but what could he do? He needed to follow where the investigation led him.

He crossed the threshold of Midnight Mansion and the door closed behind him on silent hinges. As the latch clicked, he wondered if he’d made a mistake in coming here. Wondered if he would ever make it back outside.

Mortuatus led the way through the house. He didn’t so much walk as glide, Damon thought, though that impression could have been result of the cape he was wearing reaching down to the floor.

When they reached the parlour, Mortuatus sat down at a ridiculously long table, given he lived a lone. A bowl of lightly steaming tomato soup (Damon dearly hoped it was tomato soup) was on the table before him.

‘Do sit down,’ Mortuatus invited, indicating a seat to his left.

‘I don’t intend to stay long,’ Damon answered, just as a noise made him jump. He thought he could hear scratching sounds behind the walls. Then, somewhere further into the house he heard the sound of muffled voices.

‘Guests?’ Damon asked.

Mortuatus smiled and the demon tried his hardest not to visibly shiver. ‘Yes.’

Damon, in an attempt to appear calm and collected, and in command of himself, began to make small talk. ‘Old friends? Distant relatives? Are they staying long?’

‘My preternatural pastimes are my business, Mr Damon. I would be obliged if you don’t pry.’

‘As long as you are not breaking the rules of your tenancy, as set out by the cemetery’s management,’ he replied, without thinking, wincing once the words were out of his mouth. They had been an automatic response.

‘The laws that govern the dead and undead are as important as the ones which govern the living. I take them very seriously, and follow them to the letter…unless you’ve heard otherwise?’

‘No.’ Damon had received no complaints about Mortuatus, and had no cause to question him with regards to anything bar the subject which had brought him there. Yet his host’s last words were nothing short of chilling. What did they mean?

‘Bonestealers. They were what brought you to my door. You don’t mind if I eat while we talk? I prefer my food served at blood temperature, you know. Not too hot and not to cold.’

Damon didn’t want to think about what was in Mortuatus’s dinner dish. He was having a hard time trying to not look visibly repulsed by the current situation. After all, even if Mortuatus was a vampire, he had as much right to exist as the rest of the cemetery’s residents. It was not his place to judge.

‘Go ahead. Yes, bonestealers. I hear you found out they are operating in our boneyard.’

‘Yes. Purely by chance, as it happens. I overheard a group of who I thought were grave-stalkers talking, well…it must be nigh on two weeks ago now.’

‘You thought they were grave-stalkers but they weren’t?’

‘No. They just so happened to have been standing outside my study window.’ Mortuatus glanced up, spoon midway between his mouth and the bowl. ‘I’m trying my hand at novel writing again.’

‘So who were they?’

‘That I don’t know. But they were discussing with some excitement the procurement of bones, from this cemetery. It had something to do with a commercial enterprise, though they didn’t go into any great detail. One thing of note does stick out though. They mentioned a bone house.’

‘Which one?’

‘Jennings. Said the source had run dry.’

To be continued…

Read Part 8 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 7: Preternatural Pastimes


Here’s part 6 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

Photo by Arianna Tavaglione on

‘Who told you about the bonestealers, Mr Stein?’

Mr Stein gulped. Then he uttered a single word, a name, ‘Mortuatus,’ and fled back to the shelter of the bone house.


‘I suppose you don’t need me for this part of the assignment?’ Jabez asked quickly, whilst stepping away. ‘I have witnesses to interview before the sun comes up.’ He pointed to the mausoleums to his left and then made a dash for them.

Damon sighed. The man known as Mortuatus was widely accepted to be the most scary being in the cemetery. In life, the man had been strange and obsessed with vampires, but in death, no-one was really sure whether he was one or not.

First Mortuatus had collected and published a book of vampire lore from around the world. Then he had written a series of vampire novels. This was followed by a stint in silent films, where he had played his own vampire creation on the silver screen. The question everyone wanted to know but was too afraid to ask was at some point on his travels, had he been turned into one. This not knowing seriously spooked everyone.

What made matters worse was that he had the largest mausoleum in the cemetery, built in the style of a grand Victorian house. The Gothic vibes made his home look like a haunted house from a horror flick.

And Damon was now expected to go there. On his own.

He crossed the cemetery quickly, knowing that Mortuatus was a strictly nocturnal fellow, and he needed to catch him before he went to bed. That didn’t mean Damon was keen to get there, only that he had to.

The eerie looking dwelling was not hard to spot. Grave-stalkers, those amongst the living who travelled around searching out weird and wonderful or famous gravestones, loved Mortuatus’s home, which he lovingly called, Midnight Mansion.

On reaching the front door, Damon lifted the cast iron knocker in the shape of a bat and announced his arrival. It took a few minutes before the door was answered by Mortuatus himself. The man was tall and thin, his skin as white as Shelly’s bones. He was dressed in a very smart suit and around his shoulders he wore a cape with a high, pointy collar. From his pocket, a silver pocket watch gleamed.

‘Mr Damon. To what do I owe this honour?’ His voice was completely at odds with his appearance. He looked imposing and frightening, yet he sounded quiet and gentle.

‘If it wouldn’t be a bother…’ Damon coughed, and started again, trying to sound a little more certain of himself. ‘If it wouldn’t be much of an imposition, I would like to speak with you on the subject of bonestealers. If you have the time…’

‘Bonestealers are a grave concern, are they not, Mr Damon?’ the thin, softly spoken man said. ‘Come in. I was just about to have supper.’

To be continued…

Read Part 7 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 6: A Grave Concern

Fear and Rumour

Here’s part 5 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

Photo by cottonbro on

‘That ain’t good news, Damon. Nothing like that has happened since the Resurrection Men.’

‘Don’t get carried away, Jabez. And don’t you go running your mouth and spreading fear where it’s not warranted. We have a few bones missing, that’s all.’

‘All right, all right,’ Jabez said, raising his hands in surrender. ‘What are you going to do?’

Damon looked skywards. ‘It will be dawn soon, and most of these witnesses will be heading back to their tombs and boxes. I need to know what they know before they leave. And you’re going to have to help me.’

‘What? Me? Why? You know know I’m not cut out for this. I’ve a reputation for being a mischief-maker to uphold. I can’t be part of the establishment. I’m an anarchist.’

‘You’re also a resident of this cemetery. Now I’m deputising you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. If you slack off and do anything to deliberately harm my investigation, management will hear of it and you’ll be out on your ear. Understand? Do you know how hard it is for a revenant to exist in the outside world?’

Jabez pouted. Damon wasn’t keen on having him as a sidekick because there was no doubt, he was unreliable. That being said, there was a lot of work to do and a shortage of helpers to do it. Options were thin on the ground, and come hell or high water, he was going to do all he could to get Shelly’s bones back.

Damon comforted himself with a few points that were in Jabez’s favour. He had come to get Damon, and while the storm raged, instead of ignoring Shelly’s pleas for aid. That had been unexpected. He also knew everything Damon did about the case.

‘So what do you want to do, governor?’

‘Don’t call me that.’


‘Don’t call me that either.’


‘Stop it.’

‘What shall I call you?’

‘Damon. It’s my name. Now shall we get this investigation started? You take the bone houses on the left. I’ll start with the ones on the right. Try to keep people on topic. Don’t let them prattle on. Time is limited.’

They made to go their separate ways, when a figure exited one of the mausoleums and made a dash towards them. It was Jacob Stein, a quiet, friendly man, who was kind and compassionate, always. At that moment, he was waving his arms in an attempt to get their attention.

‘Wait, please. I don’t want the others to overhear. I do not wish to cause a panic. Damon, there’s something I think you should know. I’ve heard a rumour, and it’s not a nice one. At first, I thought it was just a story, you know, to scare the young ones around the cemetery, but now I’m not so sure.’

Damon had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this. ‘Go on.’

‘Bonestealers, Damon. Apparently they are operating in our cemetery.’

‘What did I say?’ Jabez hissed. ‘Didn’t I say-‘

‘Shut up, Jabez.’

To be continued…

Read Part 6 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 5: Come Hell or High Water

Flesh and Blooders

Here’s part 4 of my new Damon the Demon story, Cemetery Blues…Read from the beginning here.

Photo by Nothing Ahead on

‘I’ll find someone to stay with you and keep you company, while I try and sort this out,’ Damon said after Shelly had calmed down.

‘Do you think you’ll find them?’

‘I’m going to do my very best, Shelly. No-one, whether they are living, dead or undead, is going to terrorise the residents of this cemetery. Not on my watch. And when I catch them-‘

‘I meant my bones, Damon. Do you think you could find my missing rib bones?’

‘Oh, right. Well…I’m certainly going to try.’

Damon said good bye and stepped back outside, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. How was he supposed to find the right rib bones in a cemetery full of mortal remains?

Jabez was amazingly doing as he had been instructed and was keeping the crime scene clear of interfering gawpers. A sizeable crowd had now gathered in the porches of the surrounding bone houses.

‘Did anyone see anything pertaining to this crime?’ Damon called out. ‘Anyone with any information needs to come and speak to me as soon as possible. One of our own has been hurt, and I want to know why.’

‘Is Shelly all right, Damon?’ Damon looked down to see Little Ada was holding his hand and staring up at him with big, sad eyes.

Damon crouched down so that they were at the same level. ‘She will be, Ada. You can go in and see her if you like. She needs someone to sit with her for a while.’

Ada said she would, leaving Damon to turn his attention to the crime scene in front of him.

The ground being wet had meant the ground was full of impressions. He could see where he had knelt down, where Shelly had landed, both his and Jabez’s footprints. Of the latter, there were others, and these had made a greater depression on the soggy turf.

‘Any clues?’ Jabez asked, looking over his shoulder to see what Damon was looking at.

‘Surprisingly, yes,’ Damon mused. He pointed at the deeper impressions. ‘I would bet my mausoleum these footprints were made by Flesh-and-Blooders.’

‘You’re telling me, that a gang of the living came into the cemetery in the middle of the night and did this?’

Damon straightened up. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying…although I’m as surprised by this as you are.’

To be continued…

Read Part 5 Here

Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol iii: Day 4: Flesh and Blood