DarkMan: Ghosts and Haunted Houses (The Spirit Guide Book 3) Page 6

  Then the room was just black. An orb appeared out of the darkness. At first it was hard to make it out. It was just a lighter shape moving across the black. Gradually, the orb showed itself in the gloom, illuminated with a cold blue light.

  Jesse watched as a hand appeared within the light. It was dark, a shadow, and yet it wrote on the wall and the words appeared before him. They were written in blood from the stump of a finger. He gulped down a mouthful of bile and found he could hardly breathe as the words became clear.

  Blood of wrath and jealousy.

  Then the door burst open and he fell in, followed by Gail and Margie. He watched the scene play out; it was terrifying and intriguing and he couldn’t pull his eyes away.

  The orb filled the room with light and they were just impressions, shadows of themselves on the black canvas, whereas around the orb was a darkness, a dark shape that scared the bejeezus out of him.

  As he was knocked across the room having touched the orb, he heard Margie gasp, and realized she was watching over his shoulder. Should he let her see this? It didn't matter… it was too late, she was already watching.

  In the recording, they watched as the orb changed into the shape of a dark shadow… a man. It was never a full apparition, never a complete sighting, just a murky, menacing shape. Though it was easy to see it was human, it was impossible to discern features or who it really was.

  Margie moaned as she was pushed back onto the floor and pinned down by the terrible darkness.

  Jesse knew she had seen enough and reached over to close the screen, but as he did, the light illuminated the message on the wall.

  "Blood of wrath and jealousy," Margie read. "What does it mean?"

  Jesse slammed the screen shut and put the laptop to one side. "Margie we have to talk about this, but I need to know that you are okay."

  "I need to know what it means," she said, lifting her chin with defiance.

  This was good. Anger would make her stronger, make it easier for her to fight. In reality, she needed to get angry or she would always be afraid. When they left, if they solved this, she could still suffer if she didn’t fight back. This was a good sign.

  Gail squeezed her hand and, pulling her onto the sofa, she settled in beside her.

  Jesse believed she was strong enough to take this, but he also wondered if it was the best way to help her. They had to get rid of the spirit, that was without a doubt. But if he asked these questions, he was giving her more heartache, and he hated to do that.

  "I need to know," Margie said.

  The defiance told Jesse to go on. She would fight.

  "It is a verse from the Bible. It is Ezekiel 16:38. The full passage reads, “…and I will judge you as women who commit adultery and shed blood are judged, and bring upon you the blood of wrath and jealousy."

  If it was possible, Margie looked even more shocked. There were deep dark smudges beneath her eyes and her lips were drawn so thin they were merely a pink line on her alabaster face. "Why would it write such a thing?"

  Jesse felt his hand reaching out to rub over his hair. It was a habit when he was frustrated or confused, but he knew that it would come across the wrong way, so he forced his hand to stay still.

  "I have to ask you this. Understand I am not judging... but the spirit believes you cheated on your husband. I hate to ask you, but did you cheat on Alan?"

  "No, never… I would never do such a thing!" The shock and outrage that painted her face was genuine.

  "We know you wouldn't," Gail said, as she put an arm around Margie.

  Margie nodded, but her eyes locked with Jesse's and he had to gulp down the guilty feeling that wanted him to stop right now. For her sake, for all of their sakes, he had to keep going.

  "I am so sorry I have to ask this... but if you didn't cheat on Alan, did you cheat on anybody? At any time in your life, did you cheat on someone?"

  Anger pinked Margie's cheeks but she nodded as if to say she understood why he was asking. "No, never. Alan was my only love and there has never been another… not even the thought of another."

  Jesse clenched his fists and bit down his frustration. He wasn’t angry at Margie, but if this wasn't about her cheating, then they were back to square one. At this point, he had no idea how to stop the haunting.

  "Maybe we should leave for a while." Gail said. "If we just get away from this atmosphere, maybe we can talk more easily. Margie can relax and we can try and work out where the haunting is coming from."

  "Maybe I should just move down south and live with my children," Margie said. "I don't think I can face much more of this."

  "I understand," Jesse said. "I know how scared you must be. You are in danger here. Without us, it could get really, really ugly.” Way to go man, as if this isn’t ugly enough! “We will not leave you alone to cope with this. We will stay until the spirit is gone.” He waited for Margie to understand, for the words to take effect.

  She nodded and he could see a touch of steel in her eyes. Apparently, she was stronger than she looked.

  “You have to understand that if you leave, one of two things will happen. If the spirit is haunting you, then it will go with you and you have solved nothing. If the spirit is haunting this property, then someone else could be hurt. I know this is asking a lot, but I need you to be strong. I need you to see this through and help us to work out exactly what is happening. Gail is right about leaving for a while. We will go for coffee and we will talk about everything that has happened in the last few weeks before this started. I promise we will get to the bottom of this."

  Margie nodded.

  Jesse hoped that was an agreement, for he meant every word he said. What he had hoped would be an easy job looked like it was going to be one of the nastiest hauntings he had ever come across. The spirit was new and already very strong. If they left it, if it had time to gain strength, it could become unbeatable.

  Chapter 12

  Soon they were seated in the coffee shop, and Jesse felt like they had gone back in time. Once more, Margie stirred spoon after spoonful of sugar into her coffee. She seemed unable to keep her hand still and her eyes flicked around the room. It was as if she was expecting to see the orb hiding outside the windows.

  He hated to do it, but he had to push her. Taking out a notebook and pen, he prepared himself. In his pocket, the recorder was running. He had learned that most people couldn’t be themselves if they knew they were being recorded, but he needed to make sure that he missed nothing.

  Then he froze. What should he ask? They had to go back to the house and they needed to find out where the spirit had come from. The problem was, Jesse didn't know where to start.

  "Tell us all about the last two months," Gail said.

  Jesse breathed a sigh of relief. Gail was much better at this than he, much better at talking to people, at building a rapport with them and putting them at ease. They needed to find out exactly what Margie had been up to, and luckily Gail was able to make the conversation sound natural.

  "I've done nothing unusual," Margie said.

  "I understand, but just tell me about your life." Gail's voice was calm and relaxing, simply conversational. "When did you start thinking that something was wrong?"

  Margie was instantly on edge again, stirring her coffee so hard that it lapped over the edges of the cup. She noticed Jesse looking, and smiling weakly, she put down the spoon. "It was around a month ago, I think. Maybe two. I felt… everything has been difficult since I lost Alan. The house is so empty… my life is so empty… I felt as if I could feel him, as though he were still here."

  Gail reached out and held her hand while Margie blinked back tears.

  "Take your time," Gail said. "We understand. Just take your time and tell us what you can remember."

  Margie swallowed. "I sensed a presence. The first time was maybe two months ago. I thought it must be Alan, that he was here, watching me, and I found it comforting. Then the window started to be open and the picture was turned over. At fi
rst, I thought it must be a breeze, or even that I'd done it myself without thinking. Sometimes I would pick the photo up and just stare at it, wondering if I put it face down without realizing."

  Jesse felt excitement swell within him. They were on the right mark. Now all they had to do was gently urge the information out of Margie. Often it was difficult to know what was relevant. Margie was tired, scared, and confused. It was their job to get her to tell them everything so they could weed out what was pertinent. The problem was, it could be the smallest little detail and Margie might not even know what it was.

  "When did things change?" Jesse asked.

  Margin let out a long sigh. "Within about a week I began to feel uncomfortable. At first, the bedroom would get very cold. Then, after a few more days, the air was too heavy to breathe. I just thought it was grief… panic… me.” She looked up as if she was asking for approval.

  Gail gave it with the sweetest smile. “We understand,” she said.

  Margie gulped. “The next escalation was when I felt as though a weight was pushing down upon my chest. It would be so brief that I wondered if it was a panic attack, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like someone on me.” A shudder ran through her and she took a sip of her coffee before picking up the spoon and stirring it once more. “I started to notice shadows, a darkness in the corner, a dreadful feeling of oppression. It was all nothing at first. I just thought it was in my mind. You have to understand that the things were spaced out and seemed so small at first. I was getting more exhausted, and I just thought...” her voice trailed off.

  “We understand,” Gail said.

  Jesse made notes.

  “Then the electricity would go off at the worst times. I saw and trod in what I thought was blood. Only when the lights came on, it was gone. I thought I was going mad. I didn’t know what to do. Then things got so much worse. It was this week when I started to be... I want to say attacked, but that sounds so dramatic."

  "No it's not dramatic. This spirit has attacked you, of that there is no doubt," Gail said.

  Jesse wanted to stop her. Margie was talking now and they needed her to keep doing so. If Gail scared her she might shut down and forget what she needed to say.

  "It's okay to talk about this," Jesse said. "This is not the first haunting we've dealt with. Tell us everything, no matter how frightening or embarrassing or insignificant you may think it. Tell us what happened."

  "I sensed a man, a person, pushing me, holding me, and I felt violated. Then there was the blue light. When I first saw it, I was both terrified and fascinated. Soon the fascination was gone and it left just fear."

  "This haunting came on very quickly. For some reason, this ghost believes someone cheated on it and it is blaming you."

  Margie's eyes widened and Jesse knew he had to be careful.

  "I'm not saying it's your fault; maybe he, and I will refer to it as he for now, wants to punish all women, or maybe he has access to you and so he's punishing you. We don't know. We may never know. But we need to find out where he came from. So, think back over the past two months to just before it started, and tell us your routine; every little thing.

  "I will do my best. To be honest, my life is pretty boring, so there is not a lot that has happened."

  For the next 30 minutes Margie told them about her life. She visited the grave of Alan and changed the flowers. Twice a week she worked in a charity shop. She used to go to yoga, but had given it up since Alan died. She went shopping, to the library, and that was all she really did.

  "Did you go anywhere different or buy anything new?" Jesse asked.

  “No I don't think so, Margie said, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember.” Oh, there was one thing. The bag you had, the one from the new shop in town? I bought a snow globe from there around two months ago."

  Excitement coursed through Jesse and he knew they had the answer. "Do you mean Occult Mysteries?"

  "Yes, that was the one."

  A big smile lit up both Jesse and Gail's face, and they could see that Margie was curious.

  "I don't understand," Margie said. "Why is a snow globe significant?"

  Jesse and Gail shared a smile.

  "It's not the snow globe itself," Jesse said. "I called in at that shop myself. I spent quite a while there and spoke to the owner, a lady called Fiona. She told me something about all the items on the back wall. She told me they were all haunted. When she saw I was concerned, she changed her mind. Said it was all just a con for the tourists. I may be wrong, but I think it's quite possible that snow globe is where our ghost has come from."

  "That's fantastic," Margie said. "Now we know that this will soon be over."

  The relief on her face was uplifting. Jesse didn't have the heart to tell her that the work had only just begun.

  Chapter 13

  Back in the bungalow, they stared at the snow globes. They were pretty, each a different cityscape with a blue background and a house in front. Some had children playing, others were of just the house, and the last one looked like a church. Jesse thought he recognized it as a small church from Bardney Pass, but he couldn’t be sure.

  “Which one did you buy from Occult Mysteries,” Jesse asked, and was surprised that his throat was so dry. The old excitement was there, but tinged with a touch of fear. If they couldn’t get rid of this spirit then they would have to move the object to somewhere away from people. Maybe he would have to think of a storage room for haunted items… a kind of prison. But, that would be a last resort. First they had to find out who the ghost was and why he was haunting Margie.

  With a shaky hand, Margie pointed to the last one on the right of the mantelpiece. It was the one with the church scene. “It’s that one. I felt drawn to it and thought it was so pretty. It goes with my others, you see.”

  “Yes, I understand,” Gail said, while Jesse moved the camera to record what they were doing and then collected the EMF meter.

  As he brought the meter near the globe, the needle spiked, and he heard a shriek through the headphones. The item was definitely hot.

  Then he remembered the confused readings when they first arrived. The meter had led him to the globe, but he had seen Margie’s fear of the bedroom door. The spirit must have left the safety of the globe while he was distracted so they wouldn’t find him there. He was a tricky one. But maybe if Jesse had listened to his instincts, then this could have been solved earlier?

  “Did the shopkeeper give you any information or tell you the story behind the object?” Jesse asked, as he circled the globe with the meter. The EMF was strong and revolved around the globe by about two feet in either direction.

  “No, she never said anything and I never asked.”

  Jesse had seen this before. Fiona either believed that the haunted item would choose the person to take it, or she cared more about the sale. Either way, he was not too happy. Maybe he should buy up all the articles from her, or maybe he should speak to the council and get her shut down. A laugh almost escaped him. Getting the council to agree that there were haunted items in a shop would not be an easy sell.

  “We need to find out the globe’s history,” Jesse said.

  “Why don’t we just smash it?” Margie was already reaching up to the globe.

  Before they could stop her, she tipped it off the mantel and it spun in the air as it toppled toward the stone grate.

  Jesse reacted instantly. Breaking the globe would not solve the problem, not unless the spirit was bound there by prayer. It might even make it worse.

  As the globe turned in the air, the snow activated. The scene was a picture of beauty. Jesse reached out, grasping for the globe as it tumbled slowly down toward the grate which would shatter it and free the spirit to attach to something else.

  Just before it landed, he grasped onto it and it bounced up and out of his hands. Jesse grabbed again and the globe was tossed up higher. Spinning around with the snow swirling inside of it; the darn thing was taunting him.

  Once mo
re he got his fingers close, but the cold glass surface was slippery and it bounced off his fingertips and towards Gail

  Gail reached out with both hands and grabbed the globe. Her eyes widened and she looked as if she wanted to throw it to the ground and run away, but she held on tightly and carefully put the snowy church back on the mantel.

  “What did you feel?” Jesse asked.

  “It was cold, dark, and dismal, as if someone had stabbed an icicle directly through my heart and then buried me alive.”

  “You got all that from one touch?” Jesse asked, and he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. He wanted to pull her to him, to hold her close, and then take her home and never come near this place again. But Margie was watching them, and she was scared. They were here to help people and he knew it wouldn’t always be just excitement and easy spirits. Sometimes it would be dangerous and desperate, and it looked like this was one of those times. But they could help Margie. They were getting somewhere, and it would be worth it when they sent this evil back to where it belonged.

  “I’m fine,” Gail said, shaking her shoulders as if to shrug off the darkness. “Just caught up in the mood.”

  “Why did you save it?” Margie asked. “Surely this would be over if we just got rid of that awful thing?”

  “No, it’s not that easy.” Jesse pointed at the sofa and moved them both away from the globe while he explained how they would need to bind the spirit to the globe before they destroyed it. “However, destroying it should be a last resort. First, we need to find out who it is and see if we can persuade them to leave.”

  “Why?” Margie had her arms folded across her chest. The gesture looked more protective than aggressive.

  “Because they are a spirit who is hurting. If we can send them to peace, then that is what we must do,” Jesse said.

  Margie slumped on the sofa, her arms unfolding and falling onto her lap. It was as if the fight had drained from her and left nothing but a dry husk.