Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Oct 31, 2017

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2017! #1


The grass looks a lot greener than usual what with it soaked in Kyle's blood. It's almost artistic if you think about it. The bold red color juxtaposed against the lush rich green looks like something straight out of those Zang Yimou films.
Funny things happen to your thoughts after you witness a horrible tragedy taking place right in front of you. When I really give it some thought, it's our fault. We were stupid, we should have listened, but when you're rich and privileged and get everything handed to you your whole life, you think you're untouchable. You get to see how money changes everything, how it corrupts, how it buys sex, friends, and cars. Money is also a very strong motivational tool when you're sitting at the Zippy's in Mc Cully with a bunch of your drunk friends and they dare you  and your brother to do something asinine, like go up to Kaniakapupu on the night of the night marchers and see if the stories about them are actually true. So your ego and the dollar amount of the bet is too good to pass up and everyone carpools in a long line heading up to the Nu'uanu Pali drive. Twenty minutes later we're all parked by the water reservoir and there's a big crowd of our friends cheering us on, "Taylor! Kyle! Taylor! Kyle! Taylor! Kyle!"

All the girls kiss us and some hug up on us with their whole body and promise us a little something extra when we get back. Its that kinda stuff that makes a man willing to jump off a cliff or walk over hot coals you know? We get the bro hugs, the warrior's chest beating and the wide-eyed crazed berzerker looks from the guys, urging us on to our destiny.

That scene fades away like ambient white noise in the distance because that's all it is, noise. After the nearly ten-minute hike, Kyle and I are sitting in the middle of an abandoned summer home that once belonged to one of our last great Hawaiian kings. The darkness is more than pitched black darkness, it's more than a thick black blanket draped over your head, it's the kind of dark that almost seems to have a life of its own. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me but Kyle saw it too, he didn't say anything but he gave me a look, a look that I've seen a thousand times when we were growing up. He was scared. My brother is built like a brick shit house and he isn't afraid of anyone, but to see him like un-nerved me.

No one knew this but I bought a pair of brass knuckles and a 9mm handgun just in case because you never know. I tossed the brass knuckles to Kyle and I popped the clip into my gun and as always in a tight situation, my brother and I were ready to rock and roll.

Nothing happened, no movement, no sound, maybe we were imagining things? Maybe we were too wound up after that rousing pep rally down the road? I gave Kyle a look like our time had been wasted and that it was all a stupid idea, he got the point and he nodded in agreement.

That's when it happened.

There was no sound of conch shells, no drums, no chants, no choking smell of sulfur, no procession of torch lights, they were already there and we walked right into the middle of their party. I was knocked down first and held down with giant feet all over my body, I couldn't move even if I wanted to. The rest of the night marchers turned their attention to Kyle. This wasn't a street fight where you beat someone's ass and walk away. They didn't bother toying with Kyle, instead, they attacked him as one single unit. I could hear the clash of flesh on flesh as the loud thud of fists and feet struck my brother again and again. The sound was almost endless and at some point, I heard Kyle cry out in pain for the first time in my life. When they pulled back he was still kneeling on the grass, his jaw was broken and his forearm was twisted in a very gross direction. There was so much blood all over his face I couldn't tell where it was coming from, I kept screaming his name,


He turned his head in my direction; his eyes were swollen shut, "Taylor...Taylor....don't let them kill me, Taylor..."

I've never seen my brother like that before like he was a helpless kid who was lost or something. My brother was always the one who had my back, but somehow I knew that he wasn't going to walk away from this one. The group of night marchers that beat him stepped back and another group of night marchers stepped forward in their place. This group was armed with spears that had six barbs pointed down at the tip and two facing up at the bottom, eight barbs in all. They took turns at Kyle and ran him through, every time they pulled their spears out of him a chunk of his flesh would go with it. I'm not even sure at what point Kyle died, but that didn't stop the night marchers. They were not going to stop killing him until they were satisfied. We were trespassing, after all, we were in a place during a time that was not ours, it was meant for the night marchers to be there, not two idiots like myself and my brother. I was held down and made to watch,  I looked away but one of the night marchers forced my head back in the same direction.

It finally stopped when the first light appeared in the sky, the marchers suddenly dissolved and were carried away by a silent wind which took their dark forms into the ether. I wasn't let go without a couple of heavy blows to my head and face, all I could do was cover up until they were completely gone. There was almost no point in me getting up on my feet to go see Kyle because what was left of him is what brought me to my knees. Other than his hands and his shoes...........there was nothing that told me that this was Kyle's body. It was just a mess of mangled, twisted flesh.

The grass looks a lot greener than usual what with it soaked in Kyle's blood, it's almost artistic if you think about it. The bold red color juxtaposed against the lush rich green blades of grass looks like something straight out of those Zang Yimou films. Some of that blood is mine too.....oh the screams? Those are our friends, the ones we made a bet with. Sounds like they're coming up the trail....I guess I win...I survived the wasn't my fault that Kyle got killed. Was it?

Nov 3 · For your post-Halloween pleasure, Hawaii's Spirits & Legends: Nightmarchers, a storytelling event at the Honolulu Museum of Art Doris Duke Theater

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