Her Ghost in the Fog

An adaptation of one of my short stories into a one act play for the threatre. This is actually going to be performed.

Characters

Victor- Narrator and friend of Jonathan and William

Jonathan- Friend who goes missing

William- Friend of Victor and Jonathan

Dobbs- The old caretaker

 

Scene One

The stage lights are dark.

Victor is narrating.

Victor:  I remember it as though the image had burned itself into my mind’s eye, the look of pure horror frozen upon his face when we found him sitting by the lake near the old cemetery at dawn. His eyes were like two marbles set into his flesh and his face, his horrid face, was so white it looked as though something had sucked all the blood right out of him. His mouth gaped in sheer terror, and he would not speak or move, my dear friend, Jonathan.

What happened to him? Where had he been? We had searched all over for him for two days and had turned up nothing. He had disappeared without a trace. If none of his stuff had still been at the house we might have thought he had simply gone home.

Stage lights slowly beging to illuminate the scene.

 We are in a bedroom of an old house in late nineteenth century English country side.

Jonathan is lying on a bed bundled up in blankets on the right side of the stage while Victor sits by his bedside asleep in the chair. Jonathan suddenly sits straight up in bed.

Jonathan: Tis Hell she comes from!

This causes Victor to wake startled and fall out of the chair. William bursts into the room.

William: What’s going on?

Jonathan grabs the blankets and is cowaring in fear. He is violently trembling. Victor gains his feet and moves to his bedside to comfort him.

William: We should take him back to London today and have him committed, Victor. I’m sure there are doctors who could help him.

Victor: We are not sending him anywhere until we know what has happened to him!(with outrage)

William starts as if to say something, but then turns and exits stage left slamming the door behind him. Victor starts to follow then is stopped by Jonathan’s voice.

Jonathan: Victor… (in a short rasping voice) Victor… come here, please hurry.

Victor turns back to Jonathan.

Victor: I’m here my friend.

Victor walks over and kneels beside the bed. Jonathan grasps his arm tightly.

Jonathan: Beware her ghost in the fog, beware! She appeared, Victor, she came for me. She took me to Hell!

Stage Lights fade to black. End Scene

Scene Two

Victor Narrates

Victor: I could see panic in his eyes like that of a man who knows he is about to die a horrible death. I felt petty for him. Some how I feel that this was all my fault. We had gone out to the old house in the country from London three days prior to his disappearance, vacation just the three of us to celebrate the end of another year at Cambridge. The old house had been my great grandfather’s many years before. When he died it had passed down straight to my father. My grandfather had wanted nothing to do with it. My father told me that when he was a boy his grandfather had told him many old ghost tales that had frightened him so bad that even when he was grown he would not go near the old cemetery on the grounds after dark. Furthermore, my father had not been out to the old country house since he had married my mother, but still paid the old grounds keeper and his son to take care of the place.

            When I was young, my father had told me those same ghost stories; however, I didn’t fear them because they were just that, stories. Yet, my morbid curiosity had drawn me to the house against my father’s warnings.

Stage lights fade in to illuminate the scene. We are outdoors in an old cemetery. It is day light. There is a rusty iron gate covered in vines barely attached to two stone pillars on the left side of the stage.

Jonathan: Over here.  I think its an old cemetery. (he yells just before he enters through the gates stage left). Victor and William are not far behind.

Victor: I remember my father used to tell me ghost stories about an old cemetery on the property. ( he remarks as he begins examining an old head stone.

William is examining one of the stone pillars the gate is attached to.

William: Look at this. Its some kind of inscription.

Jonathan and Victor move over by William to get a look.

William: Any who remain living, Who enter after the stroke of twelve, Beware her ghost in the fog. What do you think that means?

The three look at each other bewildered.

Jonathan: I bet its just something some old grave keeper carved here to keep young miscreant like ourselve out of here at night. Oooo… she’s coming to get you…(he turns to Victor with his arms raise like a menacing ghoul)

All three laugh.

Jonathan: I say we should all just stay here for the night. Victor, you could tell us some of those ghost stories your father told you and we could even go for a swim in the lake. (Jonathan points off the stage to the right.)

Victor: I’m not sure that’s such as good idea.

Jonathan: Nonsense, it will be fun. Come on, William, back me up.

William: I’m with Victor on this one. There’s something about this place. I don’t like it.

Jonathan: You’re both scared? I can’t believe this.

Victor: Let’s just head back to the house for now.

The three leave stage left and the scene goes dark.

Scene Three

Victor narrates

Victor: It was that night that Jonathan disappeared. He had gone out long after dark. He told us that he was going to the cemetery. Both Willam and I tried to talk him out of it, but he was insistant and in the end we let him go. After all what could be the worst that would happen?

            Hours passed and when he had not returned William and I set out with a couple of lanterns for the old cemetery. When we reached the cemetery the gates hung open wide and a fog as thick as the fat on a whale had rolled in off the lake. It would have been easy to get lost. We could not see two feet in front of us, and so William and I stuck together. We searched every inch of the cemetery and turned up nothing. After we finished the best search we could manage in that dense fog we returned to the house hoping that perhaps Jonathan had returned as well. But it was no surprise that he hadn’t. We decided that we would resume the search in the morning when it was daylight again and the fog was, hopefully, cleared.

William and I rose early the next morning so as to take advantage of all of the daylight hours. Jonathan had not returned in the night as we had hoped so we set out for the cemetery once more. By the light of the hot sun, we researched the entirety of the cemetery and didn’t turn up a single clue. After the cemetery, we searched the gardens and the surrounding woods once more turning up nothing. At mid-afternoon when we finished our failed search, we walked over to the caretaker’s house on the east side of the grounds.

Stage lights light fade in.

It is a beautiful summer afternoon. On the back right of the stage is an old shack. This is the caretaker’s house. It walls are brick. The door has a heavy old knocker.

Victor and William enter from the left. Walking up to the door.

Victor: …if anyone has seen him it is likely to be the caretaker.

William: What do you know about this caretaker?

Victor: Just that his name is Dobbs and that my father hired him on when he took possession of the property when I was a child.

William: Have you ever actually met the man?

Victor contemplates this for a moment before answering.

Victor: No, not that I recall.

William: For heaven’s sake do you think…

Victor: What? That he had something to do with Jonathan’s disappearance, no, not for a second. I think that Jonathan probably got lost in the fog and maybe even wandered in to the woods or stumbled into an old well or something. Let us hope the former. I also think that this fellow will know the property better than any other living person and he may be able to help us find Jonathan.

Victor reaches out and grasps the knocker. He knocks three times and there is no answer.

William: Come on, Victor. Let’s go, back to the house and wait. There’s no one here, besides this place gives me the creeps.

Just as they turn their backs to walk away the door swings open.

Dobbs: Hello, what can I do for ya?

Victor: I’m Victor Montague, and this is my friend William. My father owns this land.

Dobbs: You’re Abraham’s boy. Well, what can I do ya for?

Victor: Our friend, Jonathan, has disappeared in the night. He said he was going out to the old cemetery, but he never returned and we’ve searched it high and low.  We were wondering if you might have seen him.

Dobbs: The old cemetery, you say?

William: Yes, sir.

Dobbs: I haven’t seen anyone ‘cept you in days. But ya said he told ya he ‘as goin out to that ol’ cemetery, after dark?

Victor: Yes, sir, he went out there around midnight the night before last.

Dobbs: That place is something awful. Ya young men oughta do well to stay away from there. They say it’s haunted, haunted by the spawn of Lucifer himself. Didn’t your father warn ya?

Victor: Yes, sir, but I don’t believe…

Dobbs: Believin’s what’ll keep ya alive. The devil himself has a foot on that ground. Stay away from there. If your friend went in there he’s doomed, gone to oblivion. (Dobbs begins hacking and spits up phlem). Ya boys head back on up to the house. If your friend’s gonna turn up, he will.

Before they could ask anything more Dobbs turns and slams the door in their faces.

William turns to Victor.

William: Well that was rude.

Victor: Yes and very little help. Come along, we’ll continue searching.

Lights fade as Victor and William are leaving the scene stage left.

Scene Four

Victor Narrating

Victor: We didn’t do as the old man advised, but continued our search for the remainder of the daylight hours. We found absolutely nothing. It was as if Jonathan had just poof vanished into thin air.

            On the second day after Jonathan’s disappearance, William and I woke with heavy hearts, neither of us had much hope that we would ever see our dear friend again, but we went out anyway. We headed back towards the cemetery hoping and praying that we had missed something. It was on the way out to the cemetery that I saw him sitting in the grass by the lake.

Lights fade in on Jonathan sitting in the grass toward the right side of the stage.  Victor comes running into the scene from the left side. There are grave stones and an old crypt in the background.

Victor: Jonathan!(before he enters the scene) Jonathan! ( Again as he enters the scene)

Jonathan does not acknowledge. Victor looks despairingly upon Jonathan as he approaches. His happiness at seeing his friend is gone as he realizes something is very wrong. William enters the scene as Victor kneels down beside Jonathan.

Victor: Jonathan, what happened to you? Where have you been?

Jonathan does not reply.

William: What is it? What’s wrong? Victor…

Victor: I don’t know, but we should get him back to the house. Come on, help me carry him.

The stage lights fade out as William and Victor are carrying Jonathan away stage left.

Scene Five

Victor Narrates

Victor: For days, he was like that, catatonic. He didn’t move and made no sound except the struggled wheeze that was his breath. He wouldn’t eat, and we were not sure if he slept at night. But if he did, that look of terror, sheer terror, never left his face and his breathing never changed. Finally one night as I lay back in my bed unable to sleep, he began to speak. At first it sounded like only the rants and ravings of a lunatic. So I started to stay by his bedside at night.

Stage lights slowly begin to illuminate the scene.

We are back in the bedroom where the story first started. Jonathan is cowering in his bed. Victor is at Jonathan’s side.

Victor: What happened, Jonathan?

Jonathan: I went out there, went to the cemetery. The night was clear. I sat there on the old bench near the lake. I listened to the soothing sounds of the crickets and watched the stars and the moon light reflect off the water as a light mist rolled off the lake. As it began to thicken and swirl around me, I felt immensely cold. I could no longer see the house and terror enveloped me, Victor.

Jonathan is trembling. He’s hysterical and weeping. Victor lays a hand on his shoulder.

Victor: It’s Alright, you’re safe. What happened?

Jonathan: I tried to stand, to get to my feet and take off in the direction of the house, but it seemed as though something was holding me in place. I saw ripples on the lake and what looked like a large snake or tentacle slither through the water near the shore and I struggled against my invisible bonds with all of my might. Terror began to grip me even tighter as I saw her gliding towards me through the fog. Weightless she seemed as she glided across the surface of the lake. Her beauty was beyond compare. She had milky white skin that had an unearthly glow about it. Her hair was a mass of long silvery blond waves, and her eyes were the sharpest green I had even seen. They seemed to pierce my very soul..., (he grips Victor’s forearm.)

Jonathan: She began to step onto the shore, her skin glowing eerily in the moonlight and her white robes swirled and flowed about her like they were made up of the fog itself. She took my by the hand and led me from the seat; it seemed as I had lost all control of my own body as I followed her through the fog amongst the eerie tombstones and crypts of the cemetery. (Jonathan grabs Victor by the shoulders and pulls him face to face with him.) Victor, Victor…tell me you will never go out there…please?

Victor: I promise, Jonathan. Now, please continue.

Jonathan relaxes his and stares off into space as he slumps back into bed.

Jonathan: She raised her free hand and as if on her command the doors of the crypt with the strange inscription on it creaked open and a light mist rolled out and joined with the rest of the fog. She guided me into the crypt and as she did torches on the walls came alight with flame and I could see a long staircase lined with human bones leading down into darkness. As we began to descend, the door behind creped shut with the clicking sound of a lock. I was horrified as she led me down and I began to scream but nothing came out of my throat, not a sound it was as though I had lost my voice. The terror continued to build in me as we descended the stairs, which seemed to go on and on forever as if into the very depths of Hell. Finally after what seemed like a horrific eternity, we reached the bottom of the stairs and there in the little room was a table with shackles on it. Effortlessly, she forced me onto the table, this torture rack to better describe it. She chained me up and ripped open my shirt and began using her fingernail to carve a pentacle into my chest. Then, she began licking the blood from the wounds and I began to scream. This time I was able to produce sound a shrill sound I couldn’t recognize. And as I lay there screaming, she began to laugh and a door against the wall opened into an inferno. A beast clad in a black hooded robe entered into the room. The shackles were released from the rack but were held firm to a single chain which the beast grasped in its leathery hand. Its head was hidden from view under its hood. In its other hand, it grasped a long whip, and it began to drag me into the inferno and threw me into a long dark pit. As I fell, I passed scene after scene of horrific torture and cruelty. It seemed like I was going to fall forever and then I hit bottom. My body ache with excruciating pain, and the smell of death and decay was so strong I felt a gag at the back of my throat. A new creature had appeared and it looked like an executioner…I knew death was coming for me and this is where I would stay. The new creature began to drag me down a long hallway until finally I was thrown onto a floor made of hot coals. In front of me sat an altar and beyond that was beast sitting upon a throne of human skulls. In one hand, the beast held a fiery sword and in the other a chalice filled with blood and…and…

Jonathan begins clutching at his chest and gives a horrific blood curdling scream. He falls back into bed, dead of some kind of heart attack.

Lights fade to black.

Victor Narrates

Victor: When we returned to London the next day, the doctor said he had suffered a fatal heart attack. But what really did happen to Jonathan we shall never know. William thought he had gone mad, but I saw no cause. Whatever the truth, I will always beware of “her ghost in the fog.”

The End

Author's Note

Let me know everything that's wrong.

Reviews

[Marie]

I remember reading this when you posted it as a story. I'm sure it will make an excellent performance.