“Think he’s upset with me for being here?”
“Well, if someone strangled him, I suppose it’s possible he might be lashing out in the same way. Or, he could simply be giving off radiant emotions to make everyone near him feel like they’re dying the same way he did. Ghosts do that sometimes, and it can even be an energy imprint on an area. Like if someone is shot in a house, people there sometimes feel a piercing pain where the bullet struck, even if the ghost isn’t trying to be malicious. I’m not picking up a real sense of malice in here like I’d expect to find in a place where a ghost is trying to kill people.”
“What do we do from here?”
“I’m sorry this situation isn’t cooperating.” I chuckle. “Still feeling a strong need to be involved to help you. Can’t just walk away even though nothing’s going on at the moment. I could hang out for a little while in case he shows up. Another option is for you to call me when things start happening again. Yet another option would be for me to sage the house and see if a protection spell might help.”
Vincente twitches at the word ‘spell.’ He’s probably a little uncomfortable over the whole ‘witchcraft’ thing. He’s religious but not the ‘goes to church’ type. However, there’s nothing quite like nearly being strangled by a ghost to open one’s mind. “What do you think will work out the best? You said the ghost might not be trying to hurt me on purpose? If that’s true, I don’t want to be cruel to him, but he still damn near killed me.”
“Yeah…” I huff air out the side of my mouth, thinking. “What times have you experienced unexplained attacks?”
“Once at like nine, ten. Another woke me up at three in the morning. That one was last week. Basically, the weird stuff can happen any time after dark. If he’s done anything during the day, I haven’t noticed.”
We spend the next hour or so talking about various things the ghost has done in the house. Vincente takes me around, pointing out doors or drawers he’s seen moving on their own, spots he’s heard footsteps or seen weird clouds of vapor. The more recent attacks where he’s become unable to breathe happened in the bedroom, hallway, and kitchen.
I get a few more brief visions of the same guy from the kitchen, one or two showing a fortyish couple screaming in panic, one of a man who looks Mexican—maybe he’s Jose?—and another white dude so elderly he makes Lo Pan from Big Trouble in Little China look like a—Cobra Kai instructor.
The only thing I know for sure is all of them died in this house… but the visions are imprints, not haunts. That said, I can’t rule out that a ghost is responsible for all of the killings, either. After all Vicente had straight up been strangled three different times, and the old man I saw still mostly held onto a trash bag. Who continues holding a trash bag when someone’s strangling them?
This isn’t exactly routine for me, since killer ghosts are a rarity. Last time I dealt with a supernatural entity responsible for killing people over and over again in a house, the victims hadn’t haunted the place either, but—and this is a big but (no, not like J Lo)—that had been a demon. It either ate or destroyed the ghosts of the people who died. As far as I know, a ghost doesn’t have the power to devour another soul. Sure, it could theoretically kill a living person in the right circumstances. However, the victim would normally be haunting the area… not the homicidal ghost. In my experience, the majority of murder victims stick around because they want their killer to be caught. No real point in lingering about if your killer is already dead, which seems to be the case here; after all, cops don’t generally arrest spirits.
Fortunately for Vincente, I’m pretty good at keeping my utter cluelessness out of my expression.
“The spirit could be somewhat transient in that he’s not bound to this house,” I say. “Based on some other visions, I think multiple people have died here, but none have ended up haunting the place.”
“Is that normal?”
“Actually, no.”
He nods, running his fingers through his hair.
“Unfortunately, there’s nothing more I can do now,” I say.
“All right. Thanks for trying at least.”
“You have my cell number in your phone already.” I smile. “Please call me if or when the spirit returns. If I’m on the air, I can still send someone to help. I have friends in, um, weird places.” He chuckles at that. “Otherwise, I’ll be here as soon as I can.”
“Okay. Appreciate it. Any time limit? If it’s three in the morning, should I still call?”
I chuckle. “At that hour, I’d prefer you wait… unless you think your life is in danger. Let me do a basic protection spell before I go. If it doesn’t help, I can come back with a friend and erect a more powerful magical shield against hostile spirits.”
“Is this... satanic?”
“No. My magic comes from an earth-based tradition. It’s from the Creator, too… just takes an extra step on the way to Earth.”
He smiles. “Okay. Go ahead and give it a shot. I’d prefer not to be choked out again.”
“I’d prefer you don’t get attacked again, too.” I start for the door. “Be right back. Need to grab my smudging kit from the car.”
“Smudging?”
“Sage. Purifying smoke. We sometimes call it ‘smudging’ the house to do a cleansing.”
Vincente gives me a ‘be my guest’ gesture.
Hoo boy. Hope this works.
But… I doubt it’s going to be as simple as this. Nothing ever is. Not when I receive such a strong feeling of needing to help.
And when there are killer ghosts involved.
Chapter Five
Local Legend
Cleansing the house goes off without a problem.
Sometimes, doing a protection spell on a haunted property is similar to whacking a hornet’s nest, as in all the angry stuff hiding in the walls comes out to object. Since no agitated spirits manifested intent on kicking my butt, I’m pretty sure the house is presently devoid of hauntings. Depending on how powerful the entity is, my spell is either going to make the walls solid to him so he can’t go inside… or reduce his ability to hurt the living. By that, I mean, he’d have to use a large portion of his power simply overcoming my spell so he won’t have enough ‘oomph’ left to affect the physical world.
Once done, I head out to my car for the drive home. As soon as I’m outside, the same feeling someone at the mine is watching me comes on, but there’s no one in sight. The mood of the ‘stare’ isn’t aggressive, which is also bizarre. Then again, not every ghost is bad. Some simply exist. Maybe there’s a dead miner over there checking me out.
I look in the direction of the Loughton Mine for a few minutes, giving the entity a chance to show itself if it wants to. Out of nowhere, a tremendous amount of panic hits me—like I’ve fallen out of an airplane without a parachute. The absolute fear I’m about to die takes me to my knees, clutching my chest, unable to breathe. My entire body locks up. I can’t move. I can’t get away from the thing that’s going to kill me. Death is inevitable. My head bounces off the door of my car as I collapse to the ground.