He just lay there at my feet. I looked down at him and back at my hands, my heart pounding in my ears, wishing it hadn’t been this easy…
***
I feel trapped, anxious, I pace the grounds a lot this time of year waiting for the big day.
I was always excited about October 31st. I used to decorate as soon as September started, do horror movie marathons and never ever work on the day. Ironically, it’s become a working day for me now. As it happens it is not the only irony in my life. People used to call me a ghost for my ability to be invisible where I needed to be and a tomb to describe how discreet I was. Look at me now. Well I guess you cannot yet, but All Hallows’ Eve is fast approaching…
I will not go into the details of what brought me to Avery Cemetery, but I have been here for eight years now. Some people say I haunt the grounds with the help of ravens, some people say I watch them, and others say that I pace the grounds until the veil is down.
In truth I do all those things, and more.
I was a Private Investigator in my past life. I specialized in criminal work. I chose this specialty knowing full-well the darkness that surrounded it. I have worked countless pro-bono cases and lost track of what sleep really means. My clients have been abused and killed by the people closest to them, others have been murdered by the State — some call it the death penalty. I helped individuals escape toxic environments, rebuild their lives and find some sort of peace; if such a thing exists.
I have seen ‘good’ people commit the unthinkable and ‘bad’ people shine bright. Even though I knew where the line was, I also firmly believed that anybody was capable of crossing it. I was fighting every day not to go over it. Until Emily.
Today I spend most of my time at Avery’s listening to the people who grieve, some broken up by loss, some used to it, and I do what I do best. I investigate. I gather information on the deceased and when the veil is down I use my abilities to find the people responsible for putting them there, and I make them pay. What’s a few broken bones from falling down stairs compared to a life lost.
I do also take great pleasure in shapeshifting into my favorite bird to scare the hypocrites and the liars who come lay flowers at the grave of someone they never even truly saw. And there are always the vandals and the vengeful who come with violence to the place that Death designed for rest.
There was a funeral held at Avery’s on October 9th. Funerals at dusk tend to hold complicated stories so you can be sure to find me there. The group was made up of five young individuals, all of which came to mourn their equally young friend who had protected them during what appeared to have been a robbery gone wrong.
They spoke of her kindness and her bravery, and each laid a unique flower on her coffin, saying their last goodbye. I stood behind the stone in order to face them. As they got close I put a hand on each one of their shoulders in order to anchor myself to them and their story.
It was going to be a rather easy one. I had all the information I needed and there were plenty of sidewalk cellar doors in New York. An old favorite of mine.
As the last person said goodbye I anchored myself to her. At my touch she lifted her head and looked directly at me, through me so to speak. As our eyes seemed to lock my heart caught in my throat, for those big back eyes had looked up at me once before.
Emily. Her mother had hired me to make sure that her daughter was safe while she was in her father's custody. My client had lost that battle in court to a violent man with money and influence who knew how to bring forth the character when he needed to. She even had pictures.
I would like to say that what happened next was in the heat of the moment, that the adrenaline took over and that I blacked out and didn't know what I was doing. But the truth is that I thought about it a lot and I remember everything.
I spent many hours surveilling that man, witnessing his negligence and his fits of anger. I pondered long and hard about what I would do if the verbal violence were to escalate. If he were to cross that line. I thought about calling 911 but discarded it as it would take too long. I thought about bursting into that house and trying to reason with him, I thought about yelling and threatening, I thought about incapacitating him and then calling the police. Instead I stopped him. Permanently. I wish it hadn't been this easy but it was. Because in that moment, all I wanted was for him to be gone and never come back. All I wanted was for him to look into my eyes with the fear that he would lose his life, and I wanted to be the one to take it.
I turned around and I saw Emily, that small eight-year-old girl on the floor. She looked at me with those big black eyes full of fear, pain, sadness and… gratitude — or so I told myself. I got on my knees, helped her up and as I called 911 I did what you were never supposed to do, I told her that everything was going to be alright. I lied. I had brought death into the life of a child who had never seen so much as a dead goldfish.
Ten years later, Death came into her life again and took her best friend with them. As she looked at me with eyes that bore the same expression as they had ten years before, I decided I could do this. I could keep protecting her. That's all I ever wanted back then and I could still do it now. She would surely be back at her best friend's grave, telling her about her days, her unfaithful friends, her lying partners, her jerk of a landlord; and on October 31st I would pay them a visit.
As I watched her walk away from Avery's, embracing her friends in an attempt to start healing, I began to question my plan. If I were to tether myself to Emily, if I quietly punished the wrongdoers in her life on Halloween night of all nights, it wouldn't be long until she felt responsible. She would be aware through her acquaintances that people that she had known kept ending up in the hospital. People would soon call her a witch as I would be the curse on her shoulder, and she could end up hated and alone.
I wish I could say that I regretted what I had done ten years ago but it wouldn't be the truth, not exactly anyway. I never made excuses for it nor pretended that I didn’t have another choice.
Today I don't. As Emily turns back towards me one last time before exiting the cemetery I know that I have no choice but to abandon my plan. I had already taken one life from her; I couldn't take another. I will not cross that line again. Maybe I still know where it is after all.
***
I am pacing once more. Two weeks before the big day and I am bursting with impatience. I am always early. Even with Emily’s friend’s killer added to my case file I am two weeks early. I love my job, I always have. This one even more than the last and I never thought it would be possible.
When I was alive I used to stay up at night after each job, wrecked not only by how little people were held accountable for their actions and the hurt they caused, but by how much they fought to avoid responsibility. Today, I get to revel in the sound of their bones cracking when they hit the floor and groan: “what have I done to deserve this?”; I go home and I sleep like I’m dead.
I haven’t crossed that line again in case you were wondering. I can’t say that I’ve lingered too long near my targets to make sure the consequences of the falls weren’t too bad, so who knows really. I don’t have that kind of time, it’s a lot of work to do all in one night.
October 31st is my absolute favorite day of the year. As you go out and parade in your mysterious and idiotic costumes, play pretend and hide behind yet another mask to avoid who you are and what you've done, I am more than happy to remind you. I have no sympathy for a devil costume, nor am I deceived by angel wings. I am always prepared, thorough and efficient.
I am the Avery Raven, and when the veil is down there is no place left for you to hide. I embody your biggest and silliest fears. As a rat I run on your leg, as a bat I fly near your head. I am the tapping on your shoulder and the rapping on your floor. I delight in making you believe that Death is close at hand and that you might be next to fall.
acj-
He just lay there at my feet. I looked down at him and back at my hands, my heart pounding in my ears, wishing it hadn’t been this easy…
***
I feel trapped, anxious, I pace the grounds a lot this time of year waiting for the big day.
I was always excited about October 31st. I used to decorate as soon as September started, do horror movie marathons and never ever work on the day. Ironically, it’s become a working day for me now. As it happens it is not the only irony in my life. People used to call me a ghost for my ability to be invisible where I needed to be and a tomb to describe how discreet I was. Look at me now. Well I guess you cannot yet, but All Hallows’ Eve is fast approaching…
I will not go into the details of what brought me to Avery Cemetery, but I have been here for eight years now. Some people say I haunt the grounds with the help of ravens, some people say I watch them, and others say that I pace the grounds until the veil is down.
In truth I do all those things, and more.
I was a Private Investigator in my past life. I specialized in criminal work. I chose this specialty knowing full-well the darkness that surrounded it. I have worked countless pro-bono cases and lost track of what sleep really means. My clients have been abused and killed by the people closest to them, others have been murdered by the State — some call it the death penalty. I helped individuals escape toxic environments, rebuild their lives and find some sort of peace; if such a thing exists.
I have seen ‘good’ people commit the unthinkable and ‘bad’ people shine bright. Even though I knew where the line was, I also firmly believed that anybody was capable of crossing it. I was fighting every day not to go over it. Until Emily.
Today I spend most of my time at Avery’s listening to the people who grieve, some broken up by loss, some used to it, and I do what I do best. I investigate. I gather information on the deceased and when the veil is down I use my abilities to find the people responsible for putting them there, and I make them pay. What’s a few broken bones from falling down stairs compared to a life lost.
I do also take great pleasure in shapeshifting into my favorite bird to scare the hypocrites and the liars who come lay flowers at the grave of someone they never even truly saw. And there are always the vandals and the vengeful who come with violence to the place that Death designed for rest.
There was a funeral held at Avery’s on October 9th. Funerals at dusk tend to hold complicated stories so you can be sure to find me there. The group was made up of five young individuals, all of which came to mourn their equally young friend who had protected them during what appeared to have been a robbery gone wrong.
They spoke of her kindness and her bravery, and each laid a unique flower on her coffin, saying their last goodbye. I stood behind the stone in order to face them. As they got close I put a hand on each one of their shoulders in order to anchor myself to them and their story.
It was going to be a rather easy one. I had all the information I needed and there were plenty of sidewalk cellar doors in New York. An old favorite of mine.
As the last person said goodbye I anchored myself to her. At my touch she lifted her head and looked directly at me, through me so to speak. As our eyes seemed to lock my heart caught in my throat, for those big back eyes had looked up at me once before.
Emily. Her mother had hired me to make sure that her daughter was safe while she was in her father's custody. My client had lost that battle in court to a violent man with money and influence who knew how to bring forth the character when he needed to. She even had pictures.
I would like to say that what happened next was in the heat of the moment, that the adrenaline took over and that I blacked out and didn't know what I was doing. But the truth is that I thought about it a lot and I remember everything.
I spent many hours surveilling that man, witnessing his negligence and his fits of anger. I pondered long and hard about what I would do if the verbal violence were to escalate. If he were to cross that line. I thought about calling 911 but discarded it as it would take too long. I thought about bursting into that house and trying to reason with him, I thought about yelling and threatening, I thought about incapacitating him and then calling the police. Instead I stopped him. Permanently. I wish it hadn't been this easy but it was. Because in that moment, all I wanted was for him to be gone and never come back. All I wanted was for him to look into my eyes with the fear that he would lose his life, and I wanted to be the one to take it.
I turned around and I saw Emily, that small eight-year-old girl on the floor. She looked at me with those big black eyes full of fear, pain, sadness and… gratitude — or so I told myself. I got on my knees, helped her up and as I called 911 I did what you were never supposed to do, I told her that everything was going to be alright. I lied. I had brought death into the life of a child who had never seen so much as a dead goldfish.
Ten years later, Death came into her life again and took her best friend with them. As she looked at me with eyes that bore the same expression as they had ten years before, I decided I could do this. I could keep protecting her. That's all I ever wanted back then and I could still do it now. She would surely be back at her best friend's grave, telling her about her days, her unfaithful friends, her lying partners, her jerk of a landlord; and on October 31st I would pay them a visit.
As I watched her walk away from Avery's, embracing her friends in an attempt to start healing, I began to question my plan. If I were to tether myself to Emily, if I quietly punished the wrongdoers in her life on Halloween night of all nights, it wouldn't be long until she felt responsible. She would be aware through her acquaintances that people that she had known kept ending up in the hospital. People would soon call her a witch as I would be the curse on her shoulder, and she could end up hated and alone.
I wish I could say that I regretted what I had done ten years ago but it wouldn't be the truth, not exactly anyway. I never made excuses for it nor pretended that I didn’t have another choice.
Today I don't. As Emily turns back towards me one last time before exiting the cemetery I know that I have no choice but to abandon my plan. I had already taken one life from her; I couldn't take another. I will not cross that line again. Maybe I still know where it is after all.
***
I am pacing once more. Two weeks before the big day and I am bursting with impatience. I am always early. Even with Emily’s friend’s killer added to my case file I am two weeks early. I love my job, I always have. This one even more than the last and I never thought it would be possible.
When I was alive I used to stay up at night after each job, wrecked not only by how little people were held accountable for their actions and the hurt they caused, but by how much they fought to avoid responsibility. Today, I get to revel in the sound of their bones cracking when they hit the floor and groan: “what have I done to deserve this?”; I go home and I sleep like I’m dead.
I haven’t crossed that line again in case you were wondering. I can’t say that I’ve lingered too long near my targets to make sure the consequences of the falls weren’t too bad, so who knows really. I don’t have that kind of time, it’s a lot of work to do all in one night.
October 31st is my absolute favorite day of the year. As you go out and parade in your mysterious and idiotic costumes, play pretend and hide behind yet another mask to avoid who you are and what you've done, I am more than happy to remind you. I have no sympathy for a devil costume, nor am I deceived by angel wings. I am always prepared, thorough and efficient.
I am the Avery Raven, and when the veil is down there is no place left for you to hide. I embody your biggest and silliest fears. As a rat I run on your leg, as a bat I fly near your head. I am the tapping on your shoulder and the rapping on your floor. I delight in making you believe that Death is close at hand and that you might be next to fall.
acj-
He just lay there at my feet. I looked down at him and back at my hands, my heart pounding in my ears, wishing it hadn’t been this easy…
***
I feel trapped, anxious, I pace the grounds a lot this time of year waiting for the big day.
I was always excited about October 31st. I used to decorate as soon as September started, do horror movie marathons and never ever work on the day. Ironically, it’s become a working day for me now. As it happens it is not the only irony in my life. People used to call me a ghost for my ability to be invisible where I needed to be and a tomb to describe how discreet I was. Look at me now. Well I guess you cannot yet, but All Hallows’ Eve is fast approaching…
I will not go into the details of what brought me to Avery Cemetery, but I have been here for eight years now. Some people say I haunt the grounds with the help of ravens, some people say I watch them, and others say that I pace the grounds until the veil is down.
In truth I do all those things, and more.
I was a Private Investigator in my past life. I specialized in criminal work. I chose this specialty knowing full-well the darkness that surrounded it. I have worked countless pro-bono cases and lost track of what sleep really means. My clients have been abused and killed by the people closest to them, others have been murdered by the State — some call it the death penalty. I helped individuals escape toxic environments, rebuild their lives and find some sort of peace; if such a thing exists.
I have seen ‘good’ people commit the unthinkable and ‘bad’ people shine bright. Even though I knew where the line was, I also firmly believed that anybody was capable of crossing it. I was fighting every day not to go over it. Until Emily.
Today I spend most of my time at Avery’s listening to the people who grieve, some broken up by loss, some used to it, and I do what I do best. I investigate. I gather information on the deceased and when the veil is down I use my abilities to find the people responsible for putting them there, and I make them pay. What’s a few broken bones from falling down stairs compared to a life lost.
I do also take great pleasure in shapeshifting into my favorite bird to scare the hypocrites and the liars who come lay flowers at the grave of someone they never even truly saw. And there are always the vandals and the vengeful who come with violence to the place that Death designed for rest.
There was a funeral held at Avery’s on October 9th. Funerals at dusk tend to hold complicated stories so you can be sure to find me there. The group was made up of five young individuals, all of which came to mourn their equally young friend who had protected them during what appeared to have been a robbery gone wrong.
They spoke of her kindness and her bravery, and each laid a unique flower on her coffin, saying their last goodbye. I stood behind the stone in order to face them. As they got close I put a hand on each one of their shoulders in order to anchor myself to them and their story.
It was going to be a rather easy one. I had all the information I needed and there were plenty of sidewalk cellar doors in New York. An old favorite of mine.
As the last person said goodbye I anchored myself to her. At my touch she lifted her head and looked directly at me, through me so to speak. As our eyes seemed to lock my heart caught in my throat, for those big back eyes had looked up at me once before.
Emily. Her mother had hired me to make sure that her daughter was safe while she was in her father's custody. My client had lost that battle in court to a violent man with money and influence who knew how to bring forth the character when he needed to. She even had pictures.
I would like to say that what happened next was in the heat of the moment, that the adrenaline took over and that I blacked out and didn't know what I was doing. But the truth is that I thought about it a lot and I remember everything.
I spent many hours surveilling that man, witnessing his negligence and his fits of anger. I pondered long and hard about what I would do if the verbal violence were to escalate. If he were to cross that line. I thought about calling 911 but discarded it as it would take too long. I thought about bursting into that house and trying to reason with him, I thought about yelling and threatening, I thought about incapacitating him and then calling the police. Instead I stopped him. Permanently. I wish it hadn't been this easy but it was. Because in that moment, all I wanted was for him to be gone and never come back. All I wanted was for him to look into my eyes with the fear that he would lose his life, and I wanted to be the one to take it.
I turned around and I saw Emily, that small eight-year-old girl on the floor. She looked at me with those big black eyes full of fear, pain, sadness and… gratitude — or so I told myself. I got on my knees, helped her up and as I called 911 I did what you were never supposed to do, I told her that everything was going to be alright. I lied. I had brought death into the life of a child who had never seen so much as a dead goldfish.
Ten years later, Death came into her life again and took her best friend with them. As she looked at me with eyes that bore the same expression as they had ten years before, I decided I could do this. I could keep protecting her. That's all I ever wanted back then and I could still do it now. She would surely be back at her best friend's grave, telling her about her days, her unfaithful friends, her lying partners, her jerk of a landlord; and on October 31st I would pay them a visit.
As I watched her walk away from Avery's, embracing her friends in an attempt to start healing, I began to question my plan. If I were to tether myself to Emily, if I quietly punished the wrongdoers in her life on Halloween night of all nights, it wouldn't be long until she felt responsible. She would be aware through her acquaintances that people that she had known kept ending up in the hospital. People would soon call her a witch as I would be the curse on her shoulder, and she could end up hated and alone.
I wish I could say that I regretted what I had done ten years ago but it wouldn't be the truth, not exactly anyway. I never made excuses for it nor pretended that I didn’t have another choice.
Today I don't. As Emily turns back towards me one last time before exiting the cemetery I know that I have no choice but to abandon my plan. I had already taken one life from her; I couldn't take another. I will not cross that line again. Maybe I still know where it is after all.
***
I am pacing once more. Two weeks before the big day and I am bursting with impatience. I am always early. Even with Emily’s friend’s killer added to my case file I am two weeks early. I love my job, I always have. This one even more than the last and I never thought it would be possible.
When I was alive I used to stay up at night after each job, wrecked not only by how little people were held accountable for their actions and the hurt they caused, but by how much they fought to avoid responsibility. Today, I get to revel in the sound of their bones cracking when they hit the floor and groan: “what have I done to deserve this?”; I go home and I sleep like I’m dead.
I haven’t crossed that line again in case you were wondering. I can’t say that I’ve lingered too long near my targets to make sure the consequences of the falls weren’t too bad, so who knows really. I don’t have that kind of time, it’s a lot of work to do all in one night.
October 31st is my absolute favorite day of the year. As you go out and parade in your mysterious and idiotic costumes, play pretend and hide behind yet another mask to avoid who you are and what you've done, I am more than happy to remind you. I have no sympathy for a devil costume, nor am I deceived by angel wings. I am always prepared, thorough and efficient.
I am the Avery Raven, and when the veil is down there is no place left for you to hide. I embody your biggest and silliest fears. As a rat I run on your leg, as a bat I fly near your head. I am the tapping on your shoulder and the rapping on your floor. I delight in making you believe that Death is close at hand and that you might be next to fall.
acj-