The Black Heart Crypt

Norman Ickes was having a blast sharing his body with his evil ancestor Barnabas.

He’d punched people, gone horseback riding, killed a priest, and shot an old lady who’d been making fun of him.

Now he was in heaven. The smart-mouthed kid in the third row was Stephen Snertz’s nephew—the punk who had crazy-glued Norman’s fingers to the hardware store phone one Saturday when he came in to watch football with his uncle.

“Barnabas!” his soul cried out.

“Silence,” his dybbuk thought back. “I am otherwise engaged.”

“That boy, the beefy one with the red hair.”

“What about him?”

“He is a Snertz.”

“So?”

“The Snertzes are the richest family in all of North Chester.”

“What about the Spratlings?”

“They’re all dead. Besides, the Snertzes are richer. Mark my word, that boy will fetch us a handsome ransom.”

“Where are his people, that I might make my demands known?”

“Go see his uncle. Stephen Snertz.”

“And where might Stephen Snertz tarry at this hour?”

“The hardware store on Main Street!”

“Coachwoman?” Norman heard Barnabas say to the bus driver. “Take me to the hardware store on Main Street, where I shall parley with the Snertz family for their heir’s ransom! Satan, follow the yellow carriage!”

Checkmate, thought Norman. We’re comin’ to get you, Stephen!