WHERE THE MAD ARE BURIED

By Mr. Midnight

CHAPTER 1 Greetings ghost lovers! My name is Royal Chan, and I am president of the GUA. That stands for Ghost United Association. It was a group we formed at school, just for fun, so we can explore all kinds of ghostly places and find the spirits of the dead. Little did we know that it would one day turn into a nightmare! Fernanda Wee, who is very pretty, is the vice president. She takes notes at our club meetings and writes down all the things we have to do in a big chart. Then we have our special ghost investigator, Fernandas best fiend Jay Koay, who is also very pretty! One day we were having a meeting at Marzooqs house after school. Fernanda was sucking on a drink and looked very anxious. We havent ever seen a real ghost, she complained. No matter what we cant find any I think we scare them away, Marzooq remarked with a grin, fingering a big butterfly net that he planned to catch ghosts in. They take one look at us and disappear, Jay gave him a scornful snort. I dont think wed scare anyone, alive or dead. No. she went on, frowning. I think we have been looking in the wrong places. Marzooq had been staring at the ceiling. He suddenly put down his butterfly net. Mr. President, he said to me. I think I have an idea. Marzooq always calls me Mr. President when he had something important to say. Proceed, I told him. We have yet to visit a cemetery. Marzooq said. Boring..... Fernanda rolled her eyes. Lots of other kids have done that. Anyhow, theres nothing really scary about cemeteries. I agree. Jay said. And hey, we all know there are never any ghosts in cemeteries. You only find ghosts where the spirits of the dead are looking for the remains of their earthly bodies. Thats why the cemeteries are such dumb places to go. Because the bodies are under the ground and so are the spirits. Ah, but thats in normal cemeteries, Marzooq told her. I wasnt thinking about a normal cemetery! Jays face paled. You mean, there are other kind of cemeteries? she asked. Of course. Marzooq smiled mysteriously. Well, come on- I elbowed him- whats your fantastic idea? Marzooq rose to his feet. Mr. President, I think we should visit the Madmans cemetery. Huh? Fernandas mouth dropped open. It is a cemetery unlike any other.

Marzooqs eyes widened as he grew more excited. It is a cemetery where the ghosts will always roam because they are mad....crazed....unable to find rest. Jay stared in horror. Why? she asked. Because its the cemetery where all the mad people are buried. A secret cemetery, next door to the ruins of the old lunatic asylum, dedicated to the remains of the INSANE! How was I to know that once we stepped into that cemetery, our fates would be sealed.... CHAPTER 2

Wow! Cool! I leaped up, grinning from ear to ear. Where is it? When do we go? Fernanda was on her feet in a flash. No Royal! No way! But you said that you wanted to find real ghosts, argued Marzooq. I meant real ghosts, Fernanda said. Not mad ghosts! Jay nodded her support. Fernanda is right. I mean dead loonies sound dangerous! I stared at the girls in disbelief. What was the matter with them? One minute they were complaining they hadnt seen any ghosts, and the next they were complaining they didnt want to see Marzooqs ghosts. There was just no pleasing them! Marzooq threw back his head and laughed. If youre, Royal and I will go there alone! Who said we were scared? snorted Jay hotly. Its just ....well, you know .....Her mouth opened and closed, but words stopped coming out. Fernanda jumped in quickly to save her friends embarrassment. Why cant we find a spooky old house to visit instead? She looked at Marzooq then at me. Thatd be a much better idea. Been there done that, I scoffed, and rolled my eyes. Or have you forgotten? Fernanda turned pale and slumped into her chair, defeated. Gotcha! I congratulated myself .The month before, acting on information that Jay had gathered, we investigated an old, derelict mansion. It had been a very spooky expedition. The old mansion had once been very beautiful, before it fell into disrepair .Nobody lived in it anymore. Part of the roof had caved in, the windows were all smashed, and when it rained, water poured through the broken tiles and down the grand cedar staircase. According to local legends, the owner had been murdered in his bed sixty years ago and the house had been neglected ever since .The owners ghost, they said, had been roaming around the ruins at night, holding a lighted candle. Wed told our parents we were going out to a movie. Instead, wed taken a taxi out to the haunted house. Wed crawled through the garden so the ghost wouldnt see us and

slipped inside through the broken back door. But no sooner had we moved into the hallway than we heard strange squeaking sounds and the patter of rats. Rats! The house was full of them, and by the smell of it they werent all alive. And when we turned to run outside, we found that part of the floor had collapsed. Wed be lucky to escape with our lives! Maybe we should go back and try again, I taunted Fernanda . She pulled a face at me. We want to find ghosts, not rats. There wont be any rats at Madmans Cemetery. Marzooq promised her. The loonies will have eaten them all, I thought Jay was going to throw up. Gross! she groaned. And so it was decided .Ghost United Associations next mission was going to Madmans Cemetery. CHAPTER 3

Im very proud of GUA. We might be just students, but when it comes to ghosts we are Professionals! We always plan our expeditions carefully. Thats because we always do our research first. At our next meeting everyone came over to my place I booted up my computer, and Marzooq navigated through a website of old cemeteries until he found the one that described the last resting place of the loonies. Its not really called Madmans Cemetery, Marzooq explained with a sinister smirk. Thats just the local nickname .Its proper name is the Cemetery for the criminally insane. When I saw the two words-Criminally Insane-I shuddered. I mean, hey, were not just talking whacko .The criminally insane were the crazed killers and ax murderers, the seriously cuckoo, the dangerous dingdongs. Marzooq scrolled down to an old photograph. It showed a walled cemetery of graves in the long grass besides a forbidding, two storied stone building with barred windows. Whats that? gasped Fernanda. Jay squinted at the image on the screen. It looks like a prison, she said after a pause. Thats the old asylum. Marzooq replied. Its known in ruins. It hasnt been used for years. Rumor has it that one day it will be demolished to make way for a shopping mall. I started to giggle. I can just imagine what the sign outside would say: Youd be mad to miss our sale......Hurry in for our crazy savings.....Get it? I laughed alone at my jokes. The others stared at me as though I should be in the asylum with all the other loonies! Marzooq pointed to the text near the photo:

THE ASYLUM AND CEMETERY FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE Found in 1899, the asylum housed the most seriously deranged criminals of the time. These men and women had all committed the most hideous crimes imaginable, yet because they were insane they couldnt be hanged like ordinary criminals. Having lost their minds and become a danger to society, they were locked up behind the asylums thick walls, never to be released .Many of these fiends were so violent that they were kept permanently chained in their cells. They were beyond any hope of cure, their minds twisted with hatred and seething with unspeakable madness. In those days, societys attitude toward the mentally disturbed was very cruel and unenlightened. The poor, tortured souls were kept hidden away from the public gaze, and the harsh treatment they received drove them to greater depths of insanity. Even when death mercifully claimed them, society demanded that they be buried away from the ordinary citizens. To accomplish this, the asylums own graveyard was established and more than one hundred dangerous killers were buried within its ground, many in unmarked graves. Jay jabbed trembling finger at the screen. See what it says? Some of the graves arent even marked! Her eyes wide with terror and her voice rose to a shriek. That means we might step on a crazy killers grave without even knowing it! Fernanda gripped my wrist and shook it like a snake trying to strangle a rat. What if they dont like it? she gulped. Then what will we do? Dont worry-Marzooq beamedIll bring my torches and nets. And Ill also bring my latest invention a ghost sack. If any ghosts give us trouble, Ill blind them and bag them. He slapped his thigh with excitement. There isnt a ghost alive who can escape from a ghost sack! I was about to tell him that ghosts werent alive, but something stopped me. I think it was fear, because, as I watched, he scrolled down to the next website.....

CHAPTER 4

My chest tightened as the most hideous faces I had ever seen filled the screen. Demented, tormented faces-a gallery of murderers and madmen beyond belief! Who are they?

croaked Fernanda. Some of the most famous inmates of the asylum, Marzooq replied. And theyre all buried in the graveyard-kind of like a big buffet! He began scrolling through the photographs and stories, stopping every now and then to point out the most dangerous and deranged. The first image he chose was that of a sweetlooking girl of eighteen, her hair in long curly tresses. She looked so nice, so normal except for her eyes. They blazed out from the screen, glittering with the light of insanity. The told us that she was: STELLA THE STRANGLER Stella Soh was a babysitter. One afternoon, in a fit of madness, she strangled thirteen children to death. When the police asked her why she had killed them, she said that the voices in her head told her to do it. Because she was judged insane, and therefore not responsible for her actions, she was incarcerated in the asylum for the rest of her life. She died at the age of 81, frothing at the mouth in a torment of fury. My stomach heaved. I was beginning to think Marzooqs idea wasnt so good. If only I had spoken up! If only Id called off the expedition! But I didnt, did I? I didnt want to look bad in front of the girls. The next photo he selected showed a brutal man with wild, staring eyes. He was chained to iron rings set in a stone wall.

THE BATHTUB BUTCHER

Real name unknown, this vicious suffered from delusions. He was convinced he was a priest whose job was to help people get to heaven. Whether his victims actually reach heaven nobody knows, but he certainly hastened their departure from this life by axing them to death while they were taking a bath. His insanity helped him to escape the hangmans noose. After many years in the asylum, he committed suicide by slicing off his hands with a knife and bleeding to death. Wow! Marzooq rubbed his hands together. Wouldnt it be great to catch his ghost in one of my nets? Jay shot him a scathing look. Hed back his way out and then chop you to pieces. Whatever. Marzooq scrolled to a photo of a tall, skinny, sad-faced man in a gardeners overalls. We read his sick story in silence: GRIM JIM

This hulking man stood over 2 meters tall, and his physical characteristics epitomized a violent killer. Firstly, his large hands, strong fingers, and flat fingernails were typically those of a murderer. His cranium, too, typified a ruthless, vicious killer. Note his low brow, denoting a lack of intelligence. His face, longer than average, and his low-set also confirmed his cunning, criminal nature. A gardener by trade, Grim Jim specialized in strangling the little old ladies for whom he worked, snapping their necks in two, and burying their bodies in flower beds.

But the most dangerous of the entire asylums inmates had been a stunted, demented creature called: LITTLE LUCY Lucy Lok was a mad dwarf who preyed on unsuspecting people who lived alone. Because she was so small, she was able to enter their homes through windows that had been left open. She slit their throats and stole their valuables while they slept, then carved them up and disposed their body parts in trash cans. Even in the asylum, Lucy Lok found opportunities to continue her rampage of murder. Twenty inmates had their throats slit in their cells at night, before Lucy finally drowned as she crawled through the sewer pipes in pursuit of yet another victim.

Marzooq leaned back in his chair and regarded the computer screen with glee. Well, what do you think? Isnt Madmans Cemetery perfect? Yes, I thought. Perfectly revolting! But what if all these ghosts dont want us in their graveyard? demanded Fernanda. What if they attacked or something? added Jay, her voice hollowed by dread. Trust me, they wont, Marzooq replied confidently. Theyll probably think weve come to lock them up again, so the last thing theyll want to do is cause any trouble... I forced myself to swallow my fear and let out a hearty laugh. Well, Marzooq, youre our official ghost catcher, I said. When do you think we should visit the Cemetery for the Criminally Insane? Ive given the matter a lot of thought, he said, pulling a small diary from his shirt pocket. He licked a finger and flipped through the pages. Mr President, in my opinion the weekend after next would be perfect, he informed me. Thats when therell be a full moon!

CHAPTER 5 The gravestone leaned sideways, almost lost in the tangle of tall, wet grass. The moons glow fell on its weathered surface, illuminating its faded inscription:

LUCY LOK REST IN PEACE A shadow passed over the stone, cast by a masked man with long, straggly. He stopped and stared at the name and let out a mocking laugh. But the laugh died away into a choking and gurgling sound. The man rubbed his neck, his fingers caressing the crude stitches that reattached his partly severed head to his body. Well Lucy, did you find peace? he asked bitterly. I pray you didnt. For what you did to me, and all the other poor souls, you deserve eternal punishment. He spat once, his spittle red with blood. Again he scratched at the stitches. How they itched on nights when rain was in the air. He turned his back on Lucy Loks grave and adjusted his mask. His gaze swept over the long forgotten headstones in the brooding cemetery, then lifted to the grim outline of the asylum building. It had been abandoned so many years ago, he thought, and yet it was still his home. Vandals, mostly children he recalled, had smashed its windows so that the rain beat in. The roof, too, had slowly deteriorated. Water dripped down past the rotting rafters and pooled in many of the cells. The old wooden floors had become treacherous, especially on the top floor, where cavernous gaps yawned in the darkness. Yet, he still could not leave. He gave a low, shrill whistle. It was answered on the instant by he thud of hoofbeats stamping across the graveyard. A giant black stallion approached through the gloom, its nostrils flaring. It stopped beside him, nuzzling his shoulder, and patted its glossy flanks. Trooper, he said huskily, you and I will not be alone for much longer. I can sense that humans will be coming to visit. The stallion gave a soft whinny. It knew that its master had many strange powers, among them the gift of prophecy. Do you look forward to company, Trooper? The masked man whispered into the horses ear while his fingers idly tousled its mane. We get so little company, boy, and sometimes its nice to receive strangers into our little world. The stallion pawed the ground eagerly.

Yes, boy, I know what youre thinking. There is still space for more graves. Fresh graves dug under a full moon. Good for the soul, arent they? The masked mans thin lips parted in a faint smile. So good for the soul........ CHAPTER 6

Waiting for that full moon seemed to take forever. They felt like the longest days of my life. But when at last the full moon appeared in the sky, butterflies appeared in my stomach. I kept thinking about those cruel crazies wed seen on the Net. Their faces flooded my mind. Yuck! Stranglers and throat slashers, the most vicious killers Id ever read about, and within a few hours Id be trampling all over their graves. Royal Chan, I told myself, youre nuts. Youre crazier than they ever were! We had chosen a Saturday night for our visit to Madmans Cemetery. Wed told our parents we were doing a school project about local history, which was kind of true. On a Saturday night? Mum had asked me suspiciously. I didnt know you were such a dedicated student, Dad had smirked. My friends met at my place at five oclock, and together we checked we had everything we needed. Marzooq stood in the center of my room, holding a list in one had and ticking each item with a pencil. Torches. Check? Marzooq called out. Torches. Check! replied Fernanda, loading four torches into my old backpack, the one I usually take to the beach. Camera, Check? Marzooq asked Camera, Check! I answered, carefully placing my digital camera into the bag. Food, Check? Marzooq was beginning to sound like an army sergeant. Food, Check! Jay replied, stuffing some packets of biscuits, potato crisps, and four bottles of water into the backpack.

Is that enough? Marzooq wondered, peering over the top of his list. We might get very hungry in the cemetery. You might, Jay grunted. I wont. I couldnt eat a thing in a cemetery. Same here, agreed Fernanda. I dont want to drop crumbs on some crazys grave! We have to keep up our energy, Marzooq reprimanded her. You know what they say. An army marches on its stomach. Without food, it cant fight. Marzooq, were not an army! Fernanda groaned. Then I took charge of the list and pencil, while Marzooq prepared his anti-ghost weapons. Nets. Check? I called out. Nets. Check! Marzooq held up two butterfly nets and placed them beside the backpack. Ghost sack. Check? I called. Ghost sack. Check! Marzooq replied. He reached for a black trash bag hed brought and pulled out a mysterious bundle. I stared in disbelief as he carefully unfolded it. Three old rice sacks had been stitched together. Jays eyebrows shot up. Thats it? she snorted. Thats your great invention? Marzooq gave her an indignant look. Jay, you have to leave ghost catching to an expert. Trust me, this sack is enough to hold any ghost and still allow him or her to breathe. He opened the neck of the sack and showed us how he threaded a piece of string through a series of holes. Once the ghost is inside, Ill simply tighten the neck with this string and well have our ghost safely bagged! But a strong ghost could easily get out of that, Fernanda scoffed. Nonsense, Marzooq snapped. It shows how little you know about ghost! Firstly, there is no such thing as a strong ghost. A ghost is a ghost. All ghosts are very light. In fact, they are so light they weigh nothing. Thats why they can pass through doors and walls. Well, if thats so, why wont a ghost be able to pass right through your silly sack? Fernanda challenged him. I was just coming to that, Marzooq retorted.

Secondly, once a ghost is confined in a tight place like a sack, they lose their power. Thats because they all suffer from what we call supernatural claustrophobia. Whats that? Jay asked with a scowl. A fear of being in a closed space, Marzooq explained. Just like humans, only its worse for ghost. Some humans get claustrophobia in elevators. So imagine what it would be like being a ghost caught in a sack. Are you sure? I asked. I mean, how do you know all these things? Because Ive read every book there is about ghosts, Marzooq assured me, stuffing his ghost sack back into the trash bag. So once the ghost is trapped in the ghost sack, I asked him, what happens then? Ah, then we shall become famous! Marzooq grinned proudly. We will be the first humans in history to capture a ghost and bring it back for people to see. Is that what you plan to do? gasped Jay. Of course, Marzooq said and gave her a thumbs-up sign. After tonight, the GUA will be world renowned. We will all be on TV, showing off our ghost. Really, Fernanda asked, open-mouthed. Trust me. Marzooq rubbed his hands together. Its easy. Nothing will go wrong. Itll be a piece of cake! Something told me-some little voice deep inside my brain- that it was not going to be that easy at all. And the same little voice was also telling me that we shouldnt go anywhere near Madmans Cemetery. But did I listen? Of course not!

CHAPTER 7

The masked man climbed down the stairs to the basement of the asylum. Shadows danced in the wavering beam of his flashlight. His boots rasped on the cold stone floor as he crossed the cavernous chamber. He lifted the wooden cover of an old well and squinted down into the gloom Yes, she was still there. The womans body floated in the bottom of the well, twenty meters beneath his gaze, as it had done for years. He peered at her in silence. She reminded him of a butterfly. Her white coat, the kind that doctors wear, was spread out on either side of her body like wings. Her small body, clad in a neat black suit, was motionless. Her arms were flung out on the surface of the water, and her face remained torn by the agony of death. The red marks on her throat had darkened with time. Her hair floated around her head like seaweed. How many years had she been there? The masked man could not remember. He had witnessed her fall, her screams filling his head. He had seen her strike the water, the bubbles rising from her mouth in the final struggle before death had claimed her. The masked man leaned forward over the small stone ledge that circled the top of the well. When he spoke, his voice echoed around its slimy sides. There are strangers coming this night, he called to her. I fear they mean us harm. But I have not forgotten my duty, doctor, he called. I will keep my vow. He could not be certain, but for a fleeting moment, he would have sworn her lips had framed smile.

CHAPTER 8

When night fell and the full moon rose, we set out on our expedition. Mum held the front door open, her eyes darting to Marzooqs black trash bag. What have you got in there? she asked. Just some stuff, he mumbled. Stuff for finding out about history.

Dad peered over Mums shoulder and grinned. Are you going to bring a ghost home? For a moment I froze, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. But when Dad burst out laughing, I knew it was just one of his weak jokes that nobody else ever laughed at. He was always making jokes about my ghostly hobby. Marzooq led the way to the bus stop. We boarded the bus that went to the outskirts of the city, to an old suburb that was fringed with forest. Ive never been out here before, said Jay, staring out the window at the dark trees. It looks spooky, commented Fernanda. Not many people live out here, Marzooq told her. I guess thats why they chose this place to build the asylum. Nobody would be disturbed by all the weird noises. What weird noises? I asked him. All the screams and moans and stuff, Marzooq replied. All the howling and wailing when the mad couldnt sleep. I stared at him. I thought his imagination was weirder than a dozen lunatic asylums! After half an hour, Marzooq signaled for the bus to stop. We climbed out and stood on the lonely roadside. I cant see the asylum, I grumbled, looking around at the dense forest. Maybe its been knocked down already. Marzooq consulted the map hed downloaded from the website. We have to go down that lane up ahead. We walked along the shoulder of the main road to where a narrow, rutted lane led deeper into the gloomy woods. The full moon bathed the deserted land with an eerie light. We had been trudging down the lane for about five minutes when Fernanda let out a sudden cry. Look! Ahead, in a break in the forest, we saw the ruins of an old stone building. It sat on a small rise, silvered by the moonlight, surrounded by tangled, overgrown gardens. A chill crept down my spine as we approached the two stone gateposts that guarded the entrance to a winding driveway.

I dumped the backpack at my feet and stretched my muscles, trying to fend off my fear. Wow, awesome, I said. But what do we do now? Jay whispered. Are we allowed to go in? Marzooq snorted and set down his nets and trash bag. Theres nobody here to stop us. Except that, said Fernanda, pointing to a faded sign by the gate. ASYLUM FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE KEEP OUT What do you expect it to say? Please enter, all are welcome? I laughed alone at my own joke. Then I got serious. Before we go any father, theres something we have to do. So, standing in a circle, we recited our creed: Ghosts, beware! Ghosts, take care! The GUA is here. You cant haunt us, You cant taunt us, Because we know no fear. HEY, HEY, HEY, THE GUA, FEARLESS TO THE END! We cheered and high-fived one another. Anyone looking at us would have thought we were nutcases. I hoisted the bag onto my back, and Marzooq picked up his nets and trash bag. Then, with the girls marching along behind us, we made our way up the drive.

CHAPTER 9

The forbidding asylum loomed before us like a monster, hunched and waiting in the dark. Behind the grim bars, the glass in every window had been smashed. Debris had been piled up along one side: old beds, mattresses, and cupboards. Imagine being sent there in the old days. Fernandas voice was low and tense, little more than a croak. If you werent really mad when you went in, I said, you would be very soon. To our right, behind a low stone wall capped with rusted barbed wire, I could see the dark patch of land that was the cemetery. The occasional shape of a gravestone rose up above the wilderness of long grass and straggly bushes. The gravel drive was overgrown with tufts of grass that sprouted up everywhere. Broken branches littered its surface. Our footsteps crunched along on it, like feet crushing the bones of the dead. Suddenly my foot struck something. CLANG Marzooq spun around. What was that? I dont know, I muttered, kneeling down to see what I had kicked. A moment later my fingers closed around it. Well? demanded Jay. I held up a horseshoe. Marzooq grinned. Hey, horseshoes are supposed to be good luck, arent they? Only when you hang them upside down over a door, Fernanda said tersely. She stared at it, frowning. Whats a horseshoe doing out here? Maybe they treated mad horses as well as people, I suggested, trying to be funny, but failing. I tossed the horseshoe aside and trudged on. Nobody ever laughed at my jokes. I figured I had my fathers sense of humor. Nobody ever laughed at his jokes, either. As we drew close to the asylum, another tingle of fear coursed down my spine. Guys, I whispered, it is just me, or do you think were being watched? Jay stamped her foot. Are you trying to scare me, Royal? No, Im just asking, thats all. I kind of feel eyes on us.

She squinted from side to side. I cant see anyone, can you, Marzooq? Marzooq cast a wary glance about and shrugged. Its probable the ghosts. They know were here. So what do we do? Fernanda asked. Go and meet them, he said. Thats what we came for. And with that, he headed toward a gap in the low stone wall beside the drive.....the entrance to Madmans Cemetery. CHAPTER 10

The cemetery was as dense tangle of long grass, straggly bushes, and broken tombstones. Even a snake would have got lost inside it. Dont tread on the dead, warned Fernanda. Jay jumped. She looked down at a headstone that had toppled over. It rested beneath her feet on the ground. Stella Soh..... She read the old inscription and gasped. Thats the grave of Stella the Strangler. And look over her, I called. I stared at Lucy Loks headstone. It tilted at a sharp angle over a small mound of earth. Fernanda peered at it over my shoulder. Its such a small grave, she said huskily. Well, she was a deadly dwarf, commented Marzooq. Wow...... Jay let out a sharp cry. She bent down and examined something on the ground. Thats weird. Someones been riding a horse near it. How do you know? Is there horse poo there? Fernanda asked her warily. No, but there are hoof marks in the soil, Jay told her. And the grass has been flattened. Maybe it was a wild dog or a cat, Fernanda suggested.

Since when do dogs and cats wear horseshoes? snapped Jay, running her hand over the soil. I knelt down beside her for a closer look. Wow, youre right. Jay had the eyes of an eagle. Thats why she was such a good ghost investigator. But whod ride a horse in a cemetery? A ghostly horseman? Marzooq joked. On a haunted horse? Not funny! Fernanda elbowed him in the ribs. Poor Marzooq. His jokes were getting as bad as mine. Well, who else would ride a horse into a graveyard except a a . His face went slack with horror, his jaw dropped, and his mouth hung open like a broken drawer. Whats the matter? I asked, leaping up. Stop fooling around, Marzooq! Fernanda punched his arm. Im not, he gasped, his eyes popping, his voice choked with terror. He pointed behind us with a shaking hand. We all swung around and saw the strange shape in the distance. At first it was just a black blur, speeding along on the far side of the deserted graveyard. A moment later, we could hear the beat of a horse hoofs, echoing in the silence. Then I made out the outline of a man, bent low in the saddle. The horse leapt over a grave, and the riders voice shouted an urgent command. Faster, boy faster! Whoever was on that horse was coming straight toward us!

CHAPTER 11

The horse was galloping faster, leaping over fallen tombstones, its rider shouting for more speed. What are we going to do? cried Marzooq, his knees knocking together. Well, Marzooq, scoffed Fernanda, how are you going to fit a man and a horse into your ghost sack? Yes, sneered Jay, lets see you do that with your precious invention. We were wasting time. If we kept arguing with one another, the horseman would have us trapped. I looked around for a place to hide. I made my decision and snapped into action. Follow me! I yelled. Marzooq grabbed his trash bag and nets and scrambled after me, the girls right behind him. We trampled through the grass, vaulting over broken headstones and fallen branches, pushing through the tangled bushes. Where are we going? panted Fernanda. I found the gap in the cemetery wall and tore down the driveway. To the asylum, I shouted back. Its our only chance! The horse was gaining on us. It reared up on its hind legs, nostrils flaring, and gave a loud, crazed whinny. I glanced back at the rider, now clearly visible in the moonlight. He wore the remains of a strange, old-fashioned uniform. A mask covered part of his face. His long hair was billowing about his head. I shuddered when I caught sight of the ugly stitches around his neck. What if the man and the horse live in the asylum? wailed Marzooq. Horses dont live in asylums, I tossed back. Anyhow, theres nowhere else we can go! We raced down the old gravel drive. The horse wheeled around in the graveyard and came charging through the gap in the wall. Its hoofs thundered on the rough ground behind us. Faster, boy, faster! urged the horseman.

The abandoned asylum towered above me. I took the stairs to the front porch two at a time, skirting the skeletons of dead bushes poking out of giant pots. I reached the front door of the abandoned asylum. When I turned the rusted handle, it broke off and went clattering over the broken tiles. With the girls helping, we threw our weight against the door. It groaned open, and its sound was that of someone being tortured. We sped into the gloomy building, hauling Marzooq, his nets, and the trash bag after us. Fernanda and I slammed the door shut just as the horse reached the front porch. I found an old bolt on the back of the door and rammed it into place. At least now wed be safe.....for a while! I could hear the horsemans wild cries outside but ignored them. If he thought I was going to open the door for him, he was truly cuckoo! Then I turned, my eyes probing the shadows as I tried to think what we should do next.

CHAPTER 12

A shaft of moonlight spilled in through a broken window, high in the wall above us. I blinked as I gradually took in our surroundings. We were in a huge foyer. On one side, a hallway led off into the darkness. On the other, a broad staircase led to the floor above. A long, wooden counter faced us. A plaque announced INQUIRIES & REGISTRATION in faded gold lettering. It looked as though someone had tried to hack one section of the counter in two with an ax. Behind it, spiderwebs laced an ancient telephone switchboard. A signboard hung lopsided on the wall. It told us that WARDS A, B, and C were on the ground floor and the INCURABLES WING and SPECIAL TREATMENT ROOMS were on the top floor. I wonder what the special treatments were? Fernanda asked in a hollow voice. Dont even think about them, I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

My mind was in turmoil. I reminded myself that I was the president of the GUA, that I was responsible for everyones safety, and it was my job to find a way for us to escape from the crazy man outside. Big deal, I thought grimly. I didnt have a single idea. And that was when I caught a movement by the counter. Something or someone had been hunched down behind it. Now it was slowly rising. Jay had seen it, too. She flashed her torch on the hulking shape that now loomed into view. The beam fell on a long, leering, animalistic face. Demented eyes glowered at us from beneath a low brow. Then the torchlight found his massive hands the strong fingers, the flat fingernails the hands of a killer. We recognized the man at once from his picture on the website. Grim Jim the gardener was shuffling toward us, his murderous hands reaching for Fernandas throat.

CHAPTER 13

Saliva dripped from the mouth of the hulking brute. His eyes shone with the gleam of lunacy. His breath came in short, sharp bursts. Fernanda backed away, her hands raised to protect her throat. I jumped forward, swinging my backpack at the killers face but he brushed it aside like a fly. Behind me, I heard Marzooq rip open his trash bag. Seconds later, he darted forward and flung the rice sack over Grim Jims head. I slapped him on the back. Good work, ghost catcher! The gardener went stumbling into the wall, then crashed into the counter, a low growl sounding from deep within his throat. His massive fingers clawed at the sack. As he tore it from his head, I caught sight of his enraged face. Now you will die! he howled and leapt at Marzooq.

Marzooq fended him off with the pole of a butterfly net. Grim Jims paws closed around it, snatching it from Marzooqs grasp. With an ugly laugh, the gardener snapped the pole in two. For that, you will die twice, he cursed. Marzooq let out a yelp and darted to one side, but Grim Jims bulk blocked his escape. Marzooq was pressed against the wall. The killers hands reached for my friends throat. Royal! Do something! screamed Jay. I raced forward, wielding my backpack like a weapon. The murderous gardener turned to face me, and I saw Marzooq slip away for safety. The giant lunged at me with a roar, tore the backpack away, and stamped on it with his feet. I could swear I heard my digital camera being crushed into plastic mush. Now I was really angry! I scooped up the other butterfly net and charged at the madman. Id run only a few paces when I skidded to a stop. A voice had called from the deepest gloom of the hallway. Now, my friend, you are the one who will die twice! From out of the dark, a long metal lance went spearing into the killers back like a javelin. It quivered between his shoulder blades like an arrow, as a look of surprise spread over Grim Jims face. His eyes rolled up, his mouth sagged open, and he pitched forward onto the floor. His body heaved once and then was still. We stared into the pitch-black depth of the hallway. Someone was there. Someone had saved us from certain death at the hands of the murderous gardener but who? And then I had my answer. A low whistle was followed by the clatter of hoofs on the grimy tiles. When the masked horseman stepped forward, followed by his black horse, my heart pounded against my ribs.

Wed been saved from one madman.......but now we faced another!

CHAPTER 14

I stared at the eerie figure with the stitched neck and the long hair. I tightened my grip on the butterfly net and jabbed it at him. Dont come any closer! I shouted. Dont even think of using such a puny weapon against me, the horseman warned in a steely voice. His horse pawed the ground. Youll upset Trooper, and he might crush you into dust. Youd better do as he says, Fernanda whispered, clutching my arm. Slowly I lowered the pole. It wouldnt have been much use anyhow! Id have to think of a better way to escape, I told myself. I looked across at the motionless form of the gardener, the lance poking up from his back like a flagpole. You said he was going to die twice, I began. What did you mean? Exactly what I said, the horseman replied, shooting a glance at the body. He was a murderer who was locked up in the asylum. He died here years ago and was buried in the graveyard. But tonight he came back to kill again, and I couldnt allow that. So he had to die for the second time. But if he was a ghost, how could he die again? blurted out Jay. How can you kill a ghost? Only a ghost can kill another ghost, the horseman said, rubbing the scars on his neck. So youre a ghost too? Marzooq questioned. Of course. And your horse? Asked Fernanda Trooper? Hes a ghost too.

But you look so real. Marzooq frowned. If you and your horse were ghosts, wed able to see right through you. The horseman let out a sarcastic laugh. You dont know as much about ghost as you think, boy. Yes, most ghosts are pale and wispy. They hardly exist at all, and they can vanish into nothing in no time at all, thats very true. But theres reason for that. Its because they live in busy places with lots of people moving about. But out here, the ghosts of the asylum live in perfect isolation. We can take a more solid form because nobody ever bothers us. And that makes us far more dangerous. He stepped across to the gardeners body and placed a foot on his back, like a hunter who had just killed a tiger. Now, he commanded, tell me who you are, and it had better be the truth. I cleared my throat nervously. I dont suppose youve ever heard of the GUA? The horseman scowled. What is it? Some kind of new army? GUA stands for Ghost United Association, I told him. Its our ghost-finding club. We kind of named it after Manchester United, you know? Jay explained. The football club? Fernanda prompted when his face remained blank. Football? The horseman relaxed as a distant memory stirred in his mind. I havent played football for years. Then his expression changed to one of distrust. So youre a club that finds ghosts? And what do you do with them when you find them? Mock them? Make fun of them? With one swift movement, he withdrew the lance from Grim Jims back. A moment later, its blood-soaked tip was resting against my chest. Well, ghost-finders, what do you have in mind for me?

CHAPTER 15

Nobody had seen her enter through a broken window, her small, hunched body slipping easily between the bars. She moved noiselessly, as she had always done, her tiny feet leaving only the faintest impressions on the dust-caked floor.

Lucy Lok clung to the shadows, creeping along the hall toward the sound of the voices, the rusty knife in her right hand. She risked a glimpse around a corner and smiled to herself. Just as she had suspected! It was that corporal and his vile horse. She had almost killed him once. The next time, she vowed, her knife would do its work thoroughly and hack his head from his neck. And shed settle his horse, too. A quick lunge with the knife and that great black beast would sink to its knees. Her heart leapt when she crept a few meters closer. The man and the horse werent alone. She counted four children, four new victims, awaiting her pleasure. Their screams would rise into the night as her knife slit their throats. Caution, Lucy, she told herself. They must not see you now. And that horse must not sense your presence. She retraced her steps into the deepest gloom, knowing exactly what she had to do. He would take them to the basement, of that she was certain. And that was where she would be waiting. Thats where she would strike.

CHAPTER 16

I stared at the lance at he gardeners blood smeared on its point. Soon my blood would mingle with his. And then my friends would die too. And wed be buried out there in Madmans Cemetery, where no one would think of finding us. One of my favorite weapons, the horseman grunted, pressing the lance harder against me. I was a soldier once. I used it when we charged the enemy.

What enemy? I heard myself ask. I served my country in the cavalry in the First World War, 1914 to 1918. They called it the war to end all wars, but it wasnt. Within twenty-one years, the world was at war again. But were not your enemy, Jay protested. Youve got no right to kill Royal. That would make you a murderer, like all the others. The horseman glared at her. I told you, Im a soldier. I have to do my duty. If youre a soldier, what are you doing in the asylum? Marzooq demanded. The horseman uttered a low, impatient curse. In that terrible war, the great armies still had their cavalry men on horseback who charges the enemy, cutting through their ranks with swords and lances, firing rifles too. But warfare was charging. We were no longer riding against the other sides cavalry. The great armies dug trenches, and they had machine guns and massive cannons bigger, more powerful, and more destructive than ever before in history. We had no armor, no protection. We rode across open ground into No Mans Land men with swords and horses, riding into the teeth of enormous guns. In the last cavalry charges the world ever saw, the deaths were horrific. So were the wounds. The bombardment of shells tore us to pieces. Is that what happened to you? I asked, forgetting for the moment that my life was in his hands. Is that how you died? It would have been better for me if I had, he replied. A noble death on the battlefield now that I would have preferred. But no, I suffered from what they called shell shock. In other words, the endless bombardment, the shells exploding all around me, robbed me of my mind. It happened to thousands of others in that war. Good soldiers, loyal soldiers, like me, driven crazy by the noise and death all around us, and the sight of beautiful, brave horses, blown to pieces before our eyes. The whistle of falling shells, not knowing where they would land next.....the explosions that rocked the ground and left craters at our horses feet...... He shook his head at the memory, and the pressure on the lance eased. Trooper and I were leading the charge one morning, riding straight at the guns on the heights. It was suicide. The shells came pouring down, killing us in our thousands. One shell exploded beside me and I fell to the ground. I rolled into a crater and lay beside the dead bodies piled up inside. My head was ringing with the sound of those shells. I kept telling myself that shells were like lightning.....they never struck in the same place twice. So when the guns stopped, when night was falling, I crawled out of that hole and there, waiting for me, was Trooper. The horse lowered its head and the man patted its nose. Despite the withering gunfire, Trooper had never once left me. And when he saw me alive, he did just what hes doing

now.....he lowered his head so I could reach the reins and haul myself into the saddle. He saved my life that day. We galloped back to our lines, where the doctors had to operate on my eyes. Thats why I wear this mask, so no one can see the scars. But I didnt know that Trooper had also been hit by gunfire. We heard the hitch in his voice. While the doctors were working on me, Trooper died of his wounds. In those days, nobody spared a thought for a horse. But how did you come to be here? asked Jay Because I had shell shock and everyone said I was mad. Thats how it was in those days. When people said you were mad, they locked you away for the rest of your life with people who really were mad! Fernandas face was clouded with pity. But couldnt you have talked to them and told them you were okay? You dont understand. When I came back from the war, I couldnt even remember my name. Was I married? Did I have a family? Nobody knew. Everyone just called me corporal, because of the stripe on my uniform. For years I could barely speak. Too frightened, too numbed, too shocked to talk, to think even. Then a very good doctor a lady she helped to heal my mind. Took her years. I fingered my neck. But it wasnt just your eyes, was it? You were also wounded in the neck? No. That happened here. One of the inmates did that to me. Lucy Lok slit my throat. So deeply did she cut me, she almost severed my head. But Troopers ghost came in search of me and found me here in this hideous asylum. For the second time in my life, Trooper saved me. He came galloping in and scared her away. If it hadnt been for him, she would have finished her awful work and I would have died. Fortunately, the lady doctor was able to save me. He gave a grim smile. She treated the insane, so she wasnt a surgeon, and as you can see, it was a rushed job. But she saved me, so who am I to complain? But you did die later? Marzooq asked. And thats why youre a ghost? The horseman nodded. I died many years ago. And to repay that lady doctors kindness, Trooper and I have stayed on. You see, I gave her my word that we would guard the graveyard for all eternity and make sure none of the murderers ghosts could escape. We never left our post, Trooper and I. We have protected the world against the killers buried here. But when you arrived, you disturbed them. And now, everythings changed. Youve unleashed terrible forces. A sudden terror seized me. What do you mean?

He drew himself to attention. I must do my duty again. Your ghost-finding club might be a game to you, but now its a question of life and death. He swung the lance at us, its blood-red tip ready to plunge into any of our bodies. Youre coming with me, all of you, to seek her advice. If the doctor says your deaths are required to stop the forces of evil, you must die.

CHAPTER 17 He prodded us with the lance, forcing us ahead down the hall, Troopers hoofs clipclopping behind us on the tiles. All of a sudden the horse stopped, and we heard its nervous whinny. Someones here, arent they, boy? The horseman asked in a low voice. Trooper whinnied again, its hoof tapping the floor. I glanced back urgently. Look, corporal, we didnt know wed cause any trouble coming here. Why dont you let my friends go? Im the club president, so Ill stay and be your hostage. The horseman shot me a firm stare. Very brave of you, lad, but permission refused. You all came here together, so youll all have to die together, if thats what the doctor says. Now keep your voice down. Trooper can sense danger, and Id trust his instincts more than my own. We edged forward into the darkest shadows with nothing to light our way. Even the moon seemed to have deserted us. I felt a rush of air, heard a cry of pain as the lance stabbed forward, and something rolled on the ground at my feet. A body! I sidestepped the huddled shape as the horseman pulled out the lance. See what youve done? Theyve all come out of their graves. He kicked the body with his boot, rolling it over to examine its face. The Bathtub Butcher, now twice dead by the look of him. Jay let out a squeal. Trooper had dashed forward, its hoofs trampling a figure that had sprung from the darkness.

It was an old woman, frothing at the mouth. Her manic cackles turned into screams at the powerful hoofs pounded down on her. I heard the snap of her spine and then silence. Stella Soh the strangler, a nasty piece of work if ever there was one. The horseman rubbed Troopers nose. Good work, boy. Trooper whinnied again, and the corporal held the lance ready. But the footsteps we heard were running in the opposite direction. More of them, he told us. But theyve lost the stomach to fight. Theyre cowards. All killers are cowards. Ill hunt them down after weve seen the doctor. He crossed the hall to a heavy door, turned the handle, and pushed it open. Trooper will keep watch outside. He informed us. Well be safer in here too. No ghosts ever go down to the basement. Fernanda shivered. You mean the doctors office is in the basement? I wouldnt exactly call it her office, the horseman said bitterly. But thats where shell be waiting. Shell know what to do. But, corporal, youre not being fair, I began, trying to reason with him. We dont mean you any harm. Why cant we just go home? I think thats a great idea, Jay said. Think about it, corporal. If our coming here brought the ghost out of their graves, wont they all go back when we leave? Its logical, added Marzooq. We go, they go. The horsemans lance almost sliced off his head. Be quiet, all of you. Youve caused enough trouble tonight. The doctor will make the final decision, not me. Its not my place to give orders, it is mine to follow them. Ive followed orders all my life. He produced and old-fashioned flashlight from his uniform and aimed it at a flight of stairs that led down into the bowels of the asylum. Now, march!

CHAPTER 18

I started climbing down the long flight of stairs, Fernanda one step behind me. I felt her hand touch my shoulder. Royal, what are we going to do? She whispered. I dont think theres a doctor down here. Its just a trick. Once hes got us all down here, hell kill us. No talking, the horsemans voice barked from behind. The walls were damp, streaked with slime. Somewhere below I could hear water dripping. A moist odor hung in the air, reaching into my lungs. Fear prickled my skin, seeped into my being. With every step I took, the sense of doom grew more intense. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I stepped onto a cold stone floor. My footsteps echoed around the eerie chamber. Still wielding his lance in one hand, the horseman signaled for us to move across to the center of the basement. The beam of his flashlight swept over a small circular wall. As we approached, I could see an old wooden cover resting across it. I knew at once what was beneath. A well! Lift it, the horseman commanded. The doctor is inside. I knew, then, he was mad. Totally insane. Doctors didnt live in wells! I turned to face him, dreading what would happen next. Hurry! he snapped. Fernanda and I were nearest the well. We took hold of the old wooden cover and lifted it to one side. I glanced down the gloomy shaft and saw the gruesome figure floating in the water. Fernanda saw it too. Her scream was deafening. Shes dead! She wailed. The doctors dead! No, she is not, the horseman told us. This is where she ended her human existence, but her spirit still lives. Thats the doctor who saved your life? Marzooq asked in awe, squinting down at the floating body.

The horseman nodded. She saved my mind first, and then my life after I was attacked. That is why I vowed to serve her for all eternity. Jay peered over the ledge with a shudder. How did she get down there? She asked. She was pushed in, the horseman said. She drowned down there before anyone could save her. I was here when it happened. I saw everything. Ill never forget her screams, the way she tried to save herself from drowning. He hesitated, his eyes fixed on the sight of his doctor at the bottom of the well. They say the water down there is freezing cold. Maybe thats why she looks so ....... so natural, so well-preserved. Her body has not deteriorated..... I caught a movement at the edge of my vision, a shadow working its way toward us. I turned and let out a cry. A stunted shape darted forward. Marzooq moved liked lightning. He jumped toward it, twisting himself around, lashing out with his foot in his best soccer kick. The little figure went screaming over the ledge. Lucy Lok! shouted the horseman. We peered into the well as the dwarf went spinning down the shaft, her body tumbling over and over in a flurry of skirts and waving arms and legs. When Lucy Lok struck the water, the body of the doctor vanished in a blinding flash. The dwarf thrashed about in the chilly depths, kicking and howling, until death claimed her for the second time. A trail of bubbles rose from her mouth and nostrils, and then the water was still. Lucy Lok was the one who pushed the doctor into the well, wasnt she? I asked the horseman. He nodded, lifting his gaze from the shaft. And we would have been her next victims, he said. Reaching down, he picked up the rusty knife that the dwarf had dropped and tossed it into the well. But what happened to the doctors body? gasped Jay Lucys death has freed her from the well, he replied.

He set down the lance and dragged the wooden cover over the well. Marzooq and I ran forward to help him. Once the slab of wood was in position and the well safely sealed, the horseman scooped up his lance and headed back to the stairs. Now I hope that the doctor will find peace, the peace she deserves, was his only comment. Hed taken no more than a dozen steps when a womans voice was heard ringing around the walls of the basement. Corporal, I release you from your duty. There is nothing more you have to do here. CHAPTER 19

The horseman lifted us, one by one, onto Troopers broad, powerful back. Taking the reins, he walked alongside as he led the black stallion down the old drive. Where will you go now? Fernanda asked him. For a moment the horseman stopped, lost in thought. He turned for a final glimpse of the derelict asylum. To be honest, I dont know, he said, then began walking again. I never expected that Trooper and I would ever leave this place. But you heard what the doctor said. Ive been released from my duty. Her spirit was free, and she in turn freed me. I glanced over at the graveyard. Madmans Cemetery was shrouded in shadows, its headstones almost swallowed up in the tangled undergrowth. And what about all the madmen buried there? I wondered aloud. Who will keep guard over their graves? He followed my gaze and shrugged. Those spirits are harmless now. The most troublesome ones have all met death a second time, and the rest are condemned to stay in their graves for all eternity. Thats why the doctors spirit could finally depart this evil place. We reached the main road, and the horseman helped us down. Then he swung himself up into the saddle. For the first time since wed met him, he smiled. I will be forever grateful to you and your ghost club, Royal. Good things have come of you visit. He lifted a hand in a final salute. Farewell, all of you, until our paths cross again.

Trooper rose up on its hind legs and gave us a cheerful whinny. And then horse and rider were gone, disappearing swiftly down the road as the headlights of a taxi approached from the opposite direction.

CHAPTER 20 It was two oclock in the morning when my friends and I finally reached my apartment. We were yawning our heads off as we stumbled from the elevator. I was fumbling with my key in the lock when the front door flew open and Dad peered out. Boo! he shouted. Not funny, Dad, I groaned. Didnt you find any ghosts? He asked with a grin. I stayed up watching a horror movie about ghouls in a graveyard. Thought Id keep you company in spirit, as it were. Dads jokes were getting worse, I thought, as we filed past him, our stomachs rumbling. You mean you werent out looking for ghosts? He sounded disappointed. By the way, your mother has left some supper for you in the kitchen. You look like you need something to eat. You all look dead on your feet, get it? We got it, but none of us laughed. He was about to say something else when he sniffed the air and gave me a puzzled frown. Hmmph, thats funny. He sniffed again. Whats that strange smell? Huh? I asked in alarm. Royal, have you and your friends been out riding? He asked curiously, wrinkling his nose. I rolled my eyes and let out a nervous laugh. Dad, where on earth would we find a horse at this time of night?