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"Hey, Ruby. What's up? You look terrible."
"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically to Matt.
"I mean; you look exhausted. Is there anything
I can do to help?"
THE SPIRITS OF THE HOOPLA HAVE BEEN AWAKENED.
"Not unless you can help me figure out who wrecked
Friday's dance."
Matt and I were in the backyard of my NeoHome.
Visions and voices had haunted me all night, preventing me from sleeping. Now,
they returned. I couldn't look at Matt's face without being reminded… reminded
of those dreadful words, that red ink, dripping, dripping. I could still hear
the splashing of ink in Neocola and the images; those horrible images reading
the words had brought to mind. I don't know if my own imagination conjured these
pictures, or if they were the creation of someone else. Maybe it's someone…
not exactly a NeoPet and not human or Faerie either, perhaps something not even
alive.
BEWARE THEIR WRATH!
Pictures… pictures of ghosts in billowing white
robes. A mob of ghosts, a horde of ghosts, no, an army of ghosts. They were
organized as an army and their leader… their leader was a dark thing with a
face black, black as total darkness, and its robes were a rusty red color and
they smelled… such an awful stink I had never smelled in my life!
BEWARE THEIR WRATH!
The leader held out a hand, a heavily scarred hand mangled and twisted with
age. A slimy, repulsive hand that almost glowed in the dark. It reached for
me. It reached for me!
BEWARE THEIR WRATH!!!!!
"Ruby?" Matt's warm, reassuring touch brought
me back into the real world. "Ruby, are you okay?"
"Sure," I lied. "Just feeling a bit tired, that's
all."
Matt paused, then "Has the Nancy Drew of the
Golden Jubjub compiled a list of suspects?"
"I've been too tired to compile a list of homework
assignments, Matt." I grumbled. "All I want to do is sleep."
"Well, if you come up with any brilliant theories,
tell me first."
"Okay." I was too tired even to argue with;
to tell him that Indigo or Dante or Daywalker would be the first to know.
That night, the spirits haunted my sleep. Those
pictures… running through my mind like a twisted Hitchcock movie. The mangled,
scarred hand, the black, black face and that pungent odor of death. The army
of ghosts, as far as the eye could see. Their fearsome faces and glowing, evil
red eyes.
That hand moved again. It came to me.
I awoke in a cold sweat.
* * *
The next day, I began to write that list. Anyone would have had access to
the school, and anyone could have caused that damage. At first I had thought
the DJ station had been kicked, but anyone could have blasted it with a simple
rainbow gun to give it that big dent. But who would want to damage the DJ station?
Who would want to wreck the dance?
Cassandra Royalhoof was definitely a suspect.
After all, what better way to settle the score with the Uni who took her potential
date, than to ruin something she worked so hard on?
But it seemed too out of character for Cassandra
to get her hooves sticky spilling fruit punch and writing threatening messages.
She was much too prissy and vain.
What about Matt Gonzalez? That Lupe was always
getting into trouble, riding a bike inside the school building, being sarcastic
to teachers and starting food fights in the cafeteria. He could have easily
wrecked the party.
No, he had no real motive as far as I knew.
Then, the least likely suspect of all popped
into my brain. The spirits of the Hoopla.
What if they really did exist? What if they
were haunting the Golden Jubjub for some terrible crime that had been committed
there? What if they had written the message on the wall and wrecked the party?
What if they were out to get someone?
Carefully, I erased Cassandra's name from the
top of the list and put her at place number three. I wrote "Hoopla spirits"
at the top.
* * *
My brother EmeraldFlame555 the green Scorchio was shocked when he saw my list
of suspects. "Ruby my sister, there are no such things as ghosts."
"What about the Money Tree ghosts?" I asked.
"Or the Ghost Lupe?"
"They're different. They're not vengeful spirits.
Besides, if vengeful spirits did roam around Neopia, do you think they'd waste
their time ruining our tiny dance?"
"You never know. Consider all possibilities;
that's the first rule to detective work."
Emerald groaned, "But you're not a detective,
Ruby! You've spent the past few weeks pretending, but now playtime is over!
This is a serious crime, Ruby. Whoever did this means business and he… or she
isn't going to let go easily."
My blood nearly boiled in rage. "PLAYTIME?"
I shouted. "You think this is PLAYTIME? Uncovering scandal and writing articles,
this is PLAYTIME?"
"Temper." Emerald tried to get me to calm down.
"No, I won't control my temper. You act like
you're all sensible and mature, like you're more controlled than I am. But you
couldn't go through half of what I've been through."
"You're babbling nonsense, Ruby. I have no idea
what you're talking about."
"If you took the time to think, maybe you'd
know," I snapped. Then, I stormed off to my room in a huff. I collapsed on my
bed and let the words and images soar through my brain.
Emerald. Playtime.
The rusty red message. The spirits of the
Hoopla have been awakened.
The ghosts, gliding in dusty white robes, their
leader dressed in red. Beware their wrath.
Beware their wrath.
To be continued...
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