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The Legend of Coal Hill

HallKogan

2nd Level Red Feather
Joined
Feb 1, 2018
Messages
1,352
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“No, absolutely not! You are not going up there, I don’t care how mad your friends get.” Tammy’s mother said, using her ‘Mom voice, pointing her finger at her as an exclamation.

“Mom, you’ve got to get this stuff Grandma told you out of your head. It’s just an urban legend.” Tammy shot back defensively, with a pleading tone to her voice. “Everyone there is dead, they can’t hurt me...”

“I said no young lady.” Tammy’s mother cut her off, this time with a snap to her voice.

Tammy turned to her father with a ‘help me’ look, but he held up his hands in surrender. “Walk away clean kiddo, you heard the same ghosts stories we did growing up. Don’t push it.”

Exasperated, Tammy let out a defeated sigh. “Fine... I’ll sit here bored and hand out candy to kids all night.” She picked up her backpack and headed off to catch the school bus. “Don’t even believe in ghosts.” She grumbled as she slammed the door.

“Sneak out and you’re grounded until you’re 18!” Tammy’s mom barked through the kitchen window. Tammy shrugged it off, and kept her eyes forward. But she couldn’t hide the sound of her sneakers stomping on the sidewalk.

“Still have to have the last word?” Tammy’s dad smirked, sipping his coffee. “You know she’s going to be 18 in a month, and she’s graduating in May. You can’t tell her what to do forever.”

“I don’t want to hear it Steven. You *know* that place is haunted. I’m 38, and all those stories still give me the creeps.” Her mom said, hugging herself to suppress a shiver.

Steven rolled his eyes, and put down his newspaper. “Sharon, you don’t *really* think Coal Hill cemetery is haunted do you?”

Her look said it all, Steven stood up and hugged her tight. “They’re just stories, passed down over the years to keep kids from screwing around up there.”

Sharon sighed. “Believe what you want. She’s too much like you, always watching horror movies, never afraid of anything.” She smiled, and hugged him back.

“No, she’s more like you. Tell her not to do something and she’ll do it twice and take pictures.” Steven kissed her as she blushed. “Or did you forget the other thing your parents told you? You know... ‘he’s a punk who’ll never amount to anything.’ “

Sharon couldn’t help but giggle. “I knew you’d be Doctor Carter someday. Okay point taken, but she’s still not going up there tonight.”

“See? You’re making progress. Now get ready I’m taking you out for breakfast. I don’t often have a day off with nothing to do.” They kissed, and Steven headed for the shower.

Sharon hugged herself again, and stared out the window. She could only pray that her headstrong daughter would heed her advice.


**Five years later**

Tammy Carter had been out of college for less than a year. Her writing skills, and talent for research caught the attention of the local newspaper. At the age of 22, she quickly rose through the ranks to become one of the best writers on the staff. Her success stunned her boss Mr. White, but not as much as her proposal for a Halloween story.

“Tammy, are you nuts? That place is haunted!” Mr. White exclaimed. His face turned the same shade as his name at then mention of Coal Hill.

Tammy rolled her eyes, she wasn’t going to back down like she did 5 years ago. “I’m not a kid anymore Tom, I can take care of myself.” She sucked in a breath, then let it out. Tammy would never admit it, but she had her mother’s temper.

“Look,” she continued. “I’ve heard all my life ‘ooh it’s haunted, ooh it’s spooky, ooh don’t go up there. But nobody, not one single person can tell me a *thing* about why it’s so scary. Pardon me if I’m too old for kid’s stories.” Tammy paused for a moment, then gave him an apologetic look, she hadn’t meant to sound pretentious.

Tom White let out a long sigh of his own. He couldn’t deny what she just said, but like everyone else in town the fear of the unknown had him in its grip. “Ok Tams, if you want the story it’s yours. But if you’re waiting for me to tell you it’s a good idea to poke around up there, don’t hold your breath. Just be careful, ok?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ve only a few days before Halloween, so I’d better get busy.” Tammy smiled, and left the office heading downstairs to the microfilm archives.

Tom White let out a sigh, he took a flask out of his desk drawer and downed a shot. “I love ya like you were my daughter kid, I warned ya. But I can’t make ya listen.” The whiskey couldn’t fortify his nerves enough to keep a chill from running through his body.



Tammy spent an hour on her computer finding the relevant newspaper articles that she wanted to nose through. It wouldn’t be likely that she could find what she wanted on the Internet. What was once the information superhighway, had become a gigantic cyber shopping mall. Even the most reliable search engines were now driven to prod you toward results from sponsors. This would take an old school approach.

Her afternoon consisted of her skipping her usual lunch, and fueling herself with Buffalo Blue Cheese Combos and a bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper. That was her meal of choice when she was “on the jazz”. She’d picked up that saying in college from a professor who listened to jazz music while he worked. “Tune In to your favorite tunes, and you’ll tune out from how hard you’re working. By the time you’re finished, you’ll be surprised how easy it was.”

Tammy preferred the ‘80s pop that played through her Bluetooth ear buds, but “on the pop” didn’t sound nearly as stylish. She tapped her foot under the desk as the microfilm clicked and whirred.

Tammy couldn’t believe her eyes as the potential the little river town she called home once had. According to the information she gathered on Coal Hill’s origins, It was founded in the late 1800’s, by four brothers.



The oldest was a Doctor. Dr. Brett Hill, who made his patient’s well being a priority over their ability to pay. He happily accepted an apple pie as payment.

The next was John, a banker who also served as the town’s treasurer. He handled the finances, and freely loaned money to those in need. He worked hard to find payment plans that worked for everyone.

The third, Mark was a woodcutter and carpenter. He ran the wood mill that provided many of the men in town with jobs, and oversaw the construction of most of the buildings.

The youngest was Andrew, who was a farmer. He used what he learned from Native Americans to grow enough to keep the town fed as it grew.

These four brothers were founders, caretakers, and pillars of the community. They met once a year in a secret council meeting, and the town had continued success until they all passed.

“Hmm... they sound like people we could use today. But I wonder why the secrecy...” Tammy thought aloud, careful to look around and ensure she was alone.



She dug further. Their meetings took place every year on Halloween night. “What was it? A council or a private Halloween party?” Tammy said, tapping her pen as she made notes. She continued to talk to herself.

“They never married... wow, they gave everything to this town.” Let’s go further down the rabbit hole, she thought to herself. Someone had to keep some kind of records. Time flew by, but any useful information about the names of the record keepers was blacked out.

“What were they hiding?” Tammy asked herself in frustration. “What difference did it make who their secretary was. It’s not like she was a prostitute or...” The stray thought struck her like a lightning bolt. “Oh my gosh, did they just want to get their freak on?” She couldn’t suppress the thought of four such morally upstanding men secretly being so nasty.

Time had gotten away from her. The sun had set, and she was exhausted. “Looks like I’m hitting the Library tomorrow.” Tammy said as she stood up and stretched.



It was already dark by the time Tammy crossed town and reached her modest apartment. As she stepped through the door, she stopped and pulled off her boots. “Mmmmm....” She purred as she felt the soft carpet through her nylon clad feet. As comfortable as her boots were, the day had turned unseasonably warm and her feet were hot.

She was greeted with a meow as her cat Furball padded out of the bedroom. “Hey buddy, are you as hungry as me?” Tammy asked. Another meow was her answer. “Okay come on.”

As her burritos microwaved, she opened a can of tuna. Furball began his figure 8’s around her ankles. Tammy giggled, lifting one foot then the other. “Knock it off cat, that tickles!”

The tuxedo cat let out a “purrowwwrrr” as if he understood, then nuzzled the arch of her lifted foot.

“Hahahahaha Furball come on! You know I’m ticklish!” Tammy giggled again, then knelt down to set his food bowl down.

Tammy was ticklish all over, and actually liked being tickled, if her “ ‘ler” was gentle. As she ate dinner, her mind went back to college.



Once the secret was out among her friends about how ticklish she was, it made her a frequent target. One aspect of it that she kept closely guarded was that exactly how much she liked being tickled.

The terms ‘ler and ‘lee became familiar to her during late nights. As her roommates slept, Tammy stayed up to study. Nobody but her knew what exactly these late night study sessions led to.

Tammy’s memories flashed...

With hands trembling, she scoured the internet, looking for like-minded individuals. One forum in particular stood out. There Tammy found stories, fiction stood out to her the most. A raven haired spy with a lightning bolt belt buckle. A sexy female clown who loved making people laugh. Magicians and magic boxes, secret societies, romantic encounters between lovers...



A soft moan escaped her lips, snapping her out of her trance like state of arousal. Her emerald green eyes opened, it was late.

As the bathtub filled with hot bubbly water, she opened her text to speech app. She had copied her favorite stories into text format which she occasionally read or in this case listed to.

A sultry female voice much like her own began reading Amusement Park Hysteria. Tammy purred, and slid into the tub.



The morning sun slashed the blinds, causing her to stir, and cover her eyes with the blanket. “I’ve got to move this bed.” Tammy said to herself.



Within the hour, she was at the library, pouring through stacks of dusty faded books. What *were* they doing in those meetings? She had to know. Hours flew by with no concrete answers. There was no official form of government spoken about in the town until the brothers had become older, and the first died. Still, the surviving brothers met every year until the youngest, Andrew handed duties over the the first Mayor in 1902.

Tammy stopped and rubbed her eyes. She heard a familiar voice behind her, clearing her throat. “Oh, hello Mrs. Parson, find anything any further back in the archives?”

The old lady was not only the head librarian, she was also the town historian. She looked around, making sure they were alone, then spoke. “Come into my office dear, have a cup of tea and we’ll talk.”

Tammy was puzzled, then shrugged and got up to follow her. The office was what you’d expect. Beautiful antique oak furniture, matching shelves, and a worn but cared for leather office chair. Mrs. Parson bade her to sit, and turned to lock the door. “Best we’d not be interrupted.” The old lady forced a smile, and sat at her desk.

Tammy was young, but not a fool. She had been to the Principal’s office before, she knew what this was. She remained polite, and listened to what he had to say. “So what is it you wanted to see me about?” She asked, accepting the tea she was offered.

“Tammy, I’ve known you since you were a little girl. I saw your mother grow up before that, and I was your grandmother’s best friend before that.” The old lady sipped her tea, then took Tammy’s hand into hers. “Dear heart, you’re just like them.”

Tammy smiled at that, she had only the vaguest memories of her grandmother, at least on her mother’s side. In that moment her Dad’s parable about magnets made perfect sense. But you didn’t come here for a science lesson.

Mrs. Parson continued. “I know full fell that you don’t have any intention of heeding a crazy old lady’s warning. But out of respect for my departed best friend, I’m going to tell you anyway.” She let out a deep sigh. “Then I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

The antique chair creaked as she sat back, and looked at Tammy over her horn rimmed glasses. “Tamara... don’t go poking your nose around that cemetery, not on Halloween night.” She poked her index finger in the air to accentuate the point. “You’re asking for trouble if you do, and you’ll definitely find it.”

The old lady was right, that was Tammy’s thought process. However, she was far removed from pressing the point and slamming the kitchen door the first time she’d gotten this warning. She needed information, and arguing wasn’t the way to get it.

“I appreciate that, really, but you said you had information for me.” Tammy replied, and took a sip of tea. She hated tea and preferred coffee, but was willing to make sacrifices.

“Fair enough.” Mrs. Parson held up her hands.



“I suppose you know already about the founders of this town. And how they gave everything to ensure that it thrived, up until they left this earth. What’s not in the history books, and what’s blacked out of the newspapers is how they fell in love.” Mrs. Parson turned, and touched an old photograph on the wall. It must have been them.

“What’s so wrong with falling in love?” Tammy asked, surprised at her own question.

“Nothing,” Mrs. Parson said sadly. “until you get your heart broken. Let me tell you a story.”



The Hill brothers, the pillars that held up this town, fell in love at first sight with the same woman. And it wasn’t a cheap, tawdry thing. Nor was it the cause of family strife. She loved the four of them as well.

Each of the brothers had an equal piece of her heart. But she couldn’t marry them all, and loving her the way they did they never pressed her to. The brothers were happy having the love and friendship of a beautiful woman. And the woman was overjoyed at having four gentlemen that filled her heart to overflowing with love.

They went on like that for some time. Nothing but the purest, deepest, loving friendship was what they shared. Sadly, people talk.

The brothers would do anything to defend her honor, and when there was call for it, fists were thrown. But you can’t silence everyone forever. Things got worse. Until one fateful Halloween night, over a hundred years ago, they made a pact. They would meet in a secret council. Under the cover of night, and as the whole town dressed in costume, they met with her.

They were happy for years, wrote each other often, and continued on as the town thrived. Time however, is one obstacle nobody can overcome. And one by one, the brothers passed on.

The woman, no longer young, and her romance lost to history visited Coal Hill Cemetery every Halloween until her death. It’s been said, their love was one even Time nor death itself could sever, and for one night a year, their spirits rose again.



“She married of course, and had a child.” Mrs. Parson continued. Tammy felt a twist in her heart over that tale, how could people be so cruel? “She passed the story down, and on it went. A family secret from mother to daughter. A cautionary tale I suppose.”

Tammy was riveted. “So that’s why the cemetery has the rumor of being haunted? But it can’t be true... can it? I mean ghosts, really? Is that why Mom was adamant I stay away?”

Mrs. Parson shook her head. “Tamara, that woman was your ancestor, Sarah Birch.”

Tammy turned as white as the ghosts she didn’t believe in. Her family was involved in all this. She felt as if she had been cut by a frozen razor blade.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Her voice cracked. “Forget the fact that everyone has been keeping secrets from me my entire life, but I’ve spent two days racking my brain over this story that nobody wants me to write.”

“Tammy...” Mrs. Parson said, standing up and putting an arm around her. “There’s a reason why. Dearie... something happened the last night that your grandmother went up there. I don’t know what. You were just a little girl, and Sharon, your mother never told you because she was trying to protect you.”

Tammy sniffled, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to believe anymore.” She got up to leave, Mrs. Parson was going to call after her, but the words caught in her throat.

She sat at her desk, then took off her glasses to rub her temples. “Nora... I hope I did the right thing.”

“You tried Gretchen.” The old lady looked up, putting her glasses back on. “Sharon?” Mrs. Parson held her hand over her mouth as if she’d just cussed in church.

Sharon held up her hands in a peaceful gesture. “I don’t know everything that happened in here, but I can put two and two together.” She sat down, and pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “I suppose it really was only a matter of time.”

“I told her how much she reminded me of you... you and Nora. Inquisitive, smart, headstrong.” Gretchen sat down beside her, placing a motherly hand on her shoulder. “We do all we can do to raise them the best we know how. And no matter how much it scares us when they make mistakes, we have to let them learn.”

“And then pick up the pieces after.” Sharon said, looking out the window wistfully at the setting sun.

Tammy drove fast through town as she raced back to her apartment. She drove angry, in her own mind daring anyone to get in her way. All the research, the history lesson, all these years spent wondering. “Halloween is tomorrow night, I’m going to get answers no matter what it takes.” She said, then fed her cat and made herself a quick dinner.

“I always thought I’d make a good Elektra, what do you think Furball?” The cat meowed in approval and followed her to the bedroom.



She went right to work, cutting and sewing. Scissors cut, and Singer stitched, and once again memories flashed in Tammy’s mind.

A leotard from dance class became the main part of her costume. Tammy worked as hard as anyone hours and hours. She quit after her first recital when she realized it wasn’t what she wanted.

A pair of red opera gloves, from an expensive outfit she spent all of her babysitting money on. Tammy took out a little pent up anger as she cut the fingers off. She had gone to see her boyfriend in a play and wanted to look beautiful. Her broke up with her that night, and broke her heart.

A pair of red tights, cut off from the knee and seen to a pair of socks formed her boots. Tammy had worn the tights under a pair of ripped jeans with a black AC/DC shirt the night she realized that she wanted to become a reporter. But that’s another story entirely.

Scraps of cloth finished everything else, and at the stroke of midnight her costume was finished.

“Not bad.” Tammy said, checking herself out in the mirror. “Not bad at all.”



Tammy put herself on auto pilot that day. She focused on Halloween night like a laser. When the sun went down, the adrenaline kicked in.

A large bowl of candy outside her locked apartment door would take care of trick or treaters. Her cat meowed and did figure 8’s around her legs as she opened can of ocean whitefish. “Happy Halloween Furball,” she said petting him before heading out. “don’t wait up.”



Coal Hill Cemetery was located on the outskirts of town. Tammy was so focused on getting there that she was a bit surprised when she arrived.

The late October breeze whirled past her, sweeping up multicolored leaves in its wake. There was a slight chill, thankfully she thought to wear tan pantyhose under her costume to help stave off the touch of night air.

Tammy winced slightly at the rocks under her feet. The soles of her costume’s boots were as soft as the rest of the material. She stifled a few “ows”. Sacrificing the protection of boots was a choice, so she could move as quietly as possible. Besides, she’d always hated the portrayal of stealthy characters like Batgirl and Catwoman wearing heels. Upon reaching the soft grass, she let out a silent sigh of relief.

The full moon shone brightly overhead, lending all the light it could to her mission. Emerald green eyes adjusted to the darkness as she moved closer toward the center of the cemetery. Minutes passed, and finally she reached her objective, feeling cool, smooth concrete through her costume boots.

“Okay guys, if you’re really ghosts, come out. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” She whispered, brushing away a few leaves from the headstone of Brett Hill.

“Beg pardon ma’am, but are sure this is what you want?” Tammy gasped as a tall man, somewhat larger than she expected stepped out from behind a statue. He was dressed in old western attire, and carried a black medical bag. He nodded briefly at her, as a sign of respect, and moved closer. “Dr. Brett Hill, at your service. Come on out boys, we have ourselves a visitor.”

One by one, they walked out from different statues. Each of them a monument, a tribute to the founders of the town.

John introduced himself next. He wore a suit, and round glasses. “How do Miss, lovely night is it not?” He spoke more eloquently than the others, like a stereotypical old west banker.

By the axe he carried, his beard, and flannel shirt, Tammy guessed the third to be Mark. “Ma’am.” He spoke briefly, with an accent.

By process of elimination, the last to walk out was Andrew. He tipped his ragged brown hat. “Pleasure to meet you ma’am.”

The four brothers stood in a four pointed circle around her. It was Brett who spoke up, being the oldest, made him de facto leader. “Now that you’ve come all the way up here, what exactly is it you want?”



Tammy pretended to look down at her feet shyly. But what she was really planning was her escape. It didn’t take a college graduate to tell authentic 19th century clothing from costume rentals. Even if she hadn’t grasped that, “Mark” was dressed as a lumberjack, he might as well be eating pancakes.

She quickly rocked her eyes at their boots, they would have a harder time running. The rocks near her car would be a problem, but she could deal with sore feet once she phoned the police.

“Well I um... I’m a reporter. And as you can see I can’t carry a notepad in this Halloween costume. So if you’ll excuse me...” Tammy spun, and sprinted back the way she came.

The four of them gave chase. “Get the bitch!” The one calling himself Brett bellowed. The other three were after her before the words left his mouth. Tammy didn’t look back, and ran for her life. If she could just get back to her car...

Her car was in the distance, about a hundred yards away. As her feet neared the edge of the gravel, Tammy leapt as far as she could. “Ow!” She yelped as a rock bit her soft arch through her costume boot, it rolled, sending her back thumping hard against the ground. Before she could collect herself, the four of them were standing over her.

“See guys, just like grandpa told pop, and pop told us. The boneyard is a great place to catch a piece on Halloween.” The one calling himself John said. His pretentious eloquent speech was gone.

“Can’t remember any stories about them not just up and fainting. What are we gonna do when we’re done.” ‘Andrew said.

“I got a shot fixed up in my bag, once we get her back, she won’t remember a thing.”

Tammy kicked and thrashed as they each grabbed a limb. But there were four of them, and she didn’t have any leverage. “Aw, be quiet” ‘Mark grumbled. “betcha you’ll laugh about this one day.”

“Or she’ll laugh right now.” One of them said. It was difficult for Tammy to keep the voices straight as she fought. Her panic turned to laughter as she felt fingertips on the bottom of her foot.

“Ohhhh shhhiiiitttt....!” Tammy giggled. There was no holding back. Fighting them had eroded her reserves of strength, and her feet were very soft and ticklish. Even through her cloth boots.

“Hey, this one’s ticklish. Let’s have a little fun first.”

“We’re here anyway, put her down. You hold her feet, you hold her wrists. I’ll get the shot ready.”

“Nooo! Don’t! Please nooooohohohoho!” Tammy’s pleas broke into laughter as one of them assaulted her underarms with tickling fingers. She squirmed and giggled, but she was already weak. All she could do was lay there and laugh.

One of them had pulled off her red boots, exposing her nylon soles and began tickling away. Tammy bucked with renewed vigor, but soon tired out.

She could barely make out their voices over the sounds of her laughter. “Hey, I can’t find the stuff!”

“It’s in the bag dunce! I swear send a boy to do a man’s job.” Tammy felt her wrists being let go, and tired to get up. She heard the *thunk* of an axe blade sticking in the ground.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” One of them said, and grabbed her around the waist. His hands probing her tummy causing her to laugh again as her feet thumped helplessly against the grass. Her ribs and tummy ached from being tickled so much.

Her kicking feet were grabbed, and held together, and her nylon clad feet were being relentlessly tickled. It was getting hard to breathe, and the world began to spin.

“Found the stuff, hold her down.”

Tammy thought those may be the last words she ever heard. Her eyes were squeezed shut, she gasped for air between laughs, and with everything she could muster a weak “h... help...” escaped her lips.

“Young fella, that’s no way to treat a lady.” Her four assailants froze. That voice was older, with an air of authority.

“Even if she is dressed a little oddly, I must concur.” A second voice, polite and sophisticated.

“Why in the world are you youngins dressed like that?” The third voice was rugged and strong.

“Aw I git it, they’re supposed to be us.” The last voice was youthful, and friendly.

Could it be them? Four ghostly figures strode toward their imitators inching ever closer. The youths stood backing closer to each other quaking with fear. Tammy scrambled to her feet, and sat against a statue, trying to regain her strength.

The ghosts of the Hill brothers turned from a pale white to a deep blood red as they neared the others.

“You disturbed our resting place...” Brett, the real Brett spoke.

“You threatened an innocent on hallowed ground.” John said, taking his turn.

“We must have blood to return to the grave.” Mark growled.

“Blood... or your souls!” Andrew screeched, his voice higher and higher.

The brothers astral forms merged into once, then formed a red demonic skull. “Blood... souls... blood...souls...” it chanted, then cackled and began chasing the four men from the cemetery. Their feet couldn’t carry them fast enough.



“Well, that was fun. I suppose we should introduce ourselves now. Dr. Brett Hill, at your service ma’am.” His form was normal again. A gentle smile on his face as he helped Tammy to her feet.

“John.” The next said, with a bow. “Terribly sorry that had to happen.” He adjusted his glasses. “Are you alright?”

“‘Course she is, look closer. She’s the spitting image of Sarah.” Mark said, his usually gruff voice sounded happier.

“I believe these are yours Miss.” Andrew said, and knelt down to help Tammy slide her boots back on.”

Tammy blushed, she wasn’t used to gentlemen like this. “Sarah was my...” She was too tired to add up and the greats that preceded the title of grandmother. “my ancestor. You knew her... didn’t you?”

“So that’s what you came to find out?“ Brett asked.

“I just want the truth.” Tammy replied, hugging herself. “What happened to my grandmother up here when I was little? My mother always said this place was haunted, I suppose she was right... in a way.”

“I believe I can explain that, if I may. But first if Miss...” John held out his hand, inviting her to introduce herself.

“Oh, Tammy, Tammy Carter.” She found herself blushing, even though they were ghosts.

“Miss Tammy,” John continued. “I remember the last Halloween your grandmother was here. We all do, because she never made it here again. It was an accident, just outside the gates on the main road.” He paused, even though he was no longer alive, he still felt emotions.

Mark continued. “Every year on Halloween night, the oldest woman of your family would visit us up here. And carry on tradition. We get to keep up with the modern world. And it gives us the strength to protect this town, especially your family. But that driver, that coward...” It was Mark who stopped then.

“Each woman in your family passes down the tradition before they leave this world and join us. Your grandmother never got to explain what she did up her every year. You mother likely kept up it was haunted to give herself some peace...” Andrew took his turn to mourn.

Finally, Brett being the oldest, told her the rest. “Without that, our power faded. It wasn’t until you came up here and released all that energy, and woke us....” He looked at her, a beat passed. “I know we’ve got no right to ask...”

Tammy guessed what he was going to say. It was her job to figure things out after all. “I’d love to visit here. And I can do you one better, what if I tracked down that hit and run driver, and well. Made sure you got to have your say.”

“Miss Tammy, you’ve got yourself a deal.” Brett said. She did her best to shake his spectral hand.

She turned to leave, and Andrew’s voice called out behind her. “There is *one* more thing you could do for us.”

“What’s that?” Tammy asked, as four pairs of ghostly hands reached for her. Tammy let out a ticklish squeal. “Guys come on!”

A giggle bubbled up out of her. “Hey no, cut it out!” She squirmed, and protested, and laughed. “That really tickles!” This was the kind of tickling she liked. Playful, gentle, and most of all fun.



Tammy woke the next morning as her alarm went off. As she yawned, and stretched, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this good. “Wait a minute how did I get back here? Did I even go last night?” Her feet hit the carpeted floor, and she stood up heading for the bathroom. She gasped when she looked in the mirror.

‘Thank you’ it read, then it disappeared like dust in the wind.



Tom White’s cell phone rang. The picture of a smiling Tammy Carter with her first headline popped up on the screen. “Tammy,” he said, voice seasoned with concern. “are you ok kid?”

“I’m great,” she responded and poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’ll have my story for you this afternoon. I dug up something interesting.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and as soon as she hung up she opened her laptop. A few taps on her keyboard took her to a favorite website: www.ticklingforum.com.

She clicked on the Tickling Discussion section and began typing: “You guys are not going to believe what happened to me last night...
 
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Well first let me say that Tammy has exceptional taste in tickle fiction. Of that, there can be no doubt! :D

I thought I could see which way this was going but I was wrong. You kept me guessing and surprised me a couple of times which is always fun in a story but at the end it was definitely a warm-hearted HallKogan story. Nice work!
 
Well first let me say that Tammy has exceptional taste in tickle fiction. Of that, there can be no doubt! :D

I thought I could see which way this was going but I was wrong. You kept me guessing and surprised me a couple of times which is always fun in a story but at the end it was definitely a warm-hearted HallKogan story. Nice work!

I’ve been into world building and making little connections. But with this I went the other way and plugged it into reality. I rather liked the idea of Tammy lurking on the forum reading Samantha Storm and Jenni the Clown stories.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t exactly sure how this story would go and the turns surprised me as much as anybody. It’s almost as if Tammy is one of us and wanted a writer to give a voice to something that happened. [emoji848]
 
I hope everyone will pardon me if I make a posthumous dedication.

This story is dedicated to my Mom, who passed over the weekend. Without her letting me sit on her lap with those Dr. Seuss books and without her encouraging my writing no matter how bad it was I wouldn’t have written anything to share with all of you.

Rest In Peace Mom, I love you.
 
I hope everyone will pardon me if I make a posthumous dedication.

This story is dedicated to my Mom, who passed over the weekend. Without her letting me sit on her lap with those Dr. Seuss books and without her encouraging my writing no matter how bad it was I wouldn’t have written anything to share with all of you.

Rest In Peace Mom, I love you.

Wow! I am so sorry for your loss.
 
Always enjoy a good Halloween themed story, perfect timing with it happening this weekend. The story was good bud, nice build up and some nice tickling too. Especially like the bit about the forum, thought that was clever. Thanks for writing it
 
Always enjoy a good Halloween themed story, perfect timing with it happening this weekend. The story was good bud, nice build up and some nice tickling too. Especially like the bit about the forum, thought that was clever. Thanks for writing it

Happy to see that everyone enjoyed it so much.

To my sadness, I didn’t realize until recently how much Mom nurtured my talent for writing.
 
Happy to see that everyone enjoyed it so much.

To my sadness, I didn’t realize until recently how much Mom nurtured my talent for writing.

Aww I am sure she would be super proud of your writing skills, it's the same with me. My creative talent came from my mums side my dad is good with numbers and things like that. My mum is good at drawing. Even my gf has two daughters and their talent comes from my gf, maybe it's just a thing with mums able to pass on more creative traits lol
 
Bumping this for Halloween.

Happy Halloween everyone!

Thanks for the bump, and I’m sorry for your loss. I too lost my mom in 21’. Just before thanksgiving. She knew I ran a video store making tickling videos and she supported everything I have ever done. This story is amazing as well as your other works. I’m glad I found this and am looking forward to reading through your archive of stories.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
 
Thanks for the bump, and I’m sorry for your loss. I too lost my mom in 21’. Just before thanksgiving. She knew I ran a video store making tickling videos and she supported everything I have ever done. This story is amazing as well as your other works. I’m glad I found this and am looking forward to reading through your archive of stories.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Thank you very much for reading and for the kind words.
 
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