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On Holy Ground (standard:horror, 2210 words) [1/3] show all parts
Author: heatherUpdated: Oct 13 2001Views/Reads: 2386/1160Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
5 teenagers in a film class decide to capture supernatural activity on camera in the most unlikely of haunted places...a church.
 



The Assignment 

It was that end of the week feeling.  It wasn’t quite Friday, but it was
ninth period on Thursday and you got that relieved feeling that Friday 
was nearly here, and after Friday, there was the weekend.  Thursdays 
often feel like the longest days of the week, and this one was no 
different.  The day droned on and on-through history, through biology, 
through geometry, and finally, through film class. 

Shea didn’t usually feel this way about film class.  It was her favorite
class of the day, and usually she couldn’t wait for it to come.  After 
discovering she had failed an exam earlier that day, however, she was 
not any kind of ray of sunshine by ninth period.  She was inclined to 
stalk into the film production lab that day, and of course Mr. Peterson 
had to comment on it. 

“Whoa, there, killer!” he joked, warding her off with two index fingers
in the shape of a cross.  He was probably about forty years old, but 
still acted like he was twenty.  Some speculated this was the cause of 
his scandalous divorce after two weeks of marriage, but most 
disregarded this rumor and just thought he was cool. 

Shea gave him a wan smile in reply to his wisecrack, walked over to one
of the tables and slung her backpack onto it.  She returned to the 
editing machine that Mr. Peterson was hovering over. 

“So what’s up today, Mr. Peterson?” she asked him. Mr. Peterson looked
excited and waved absentmindedly to the other students who drifted in. 

“Today, my dear, is the day I assign your big quarter project!” he said,
grinning mischievously. 

“Joy.  Is it another infomercial?” Shea asked sarcastically. Mr.
Peterson’s face dropped. 

“Oh, Shea.  That hurts, really, it does.  You’ll never let me live that
down, will you?” he said with a frown, pretending to be offended. 

“Hey, if you were sixteen and you had to make an infomercial about a
mop, you’d be a little disappointed, right?” Shea asked reasonably. 

“You’ve got me there,” Mr. Peterson agreed, nodding as if he was still
sorry and ashamed about that whole scenario.  “I couldn’t help it 
though!  Remember that!” 

“Yeah, yeah, a likely story.  You were probably just in a bad mood that
day,” Shea teased him and walked back to her table, where her best 
friend Conor was sitting. 

“Hey, now when am I in a bad mood?” Mr. Peterson asked as the bell rang.
*** 

“As some of you may already have heard, that some of you being Shea,”
Mr. Peterson began in his casual fashion, “today will be the day I will 
assign your big project for the quarter.” 

“Is it another infomercial?” asked a boy from the back of the room. The
rest of the students snickered and Shea grinned. 

“You kids are brutal,” Mr. Peterson commented.  “No, it is not another
infomercial.” 

“What’s he got in store for us this marking period?” Conor whispered to
Shea. 

“I don’t know,” Shea said.  “All he told me was what you’ve heard so
far.” 

They turned their attention back to their teacher. 

“This project will be a short film,” Mr. Peterson finished. Shea hoped
they hadn’t missed anything vital. Excited murmurs ran through the 
class like an electric current. 

“What kind of a film?” the same boy, whose name was Greg and who was


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