A Bar, a Brother, and a Ghost Hunt, page 13
“You got the guy fired?” I asked.
“No, the devil character was discontinued. The guy took another part as far as I know.”
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” I asked.
“Can you help me?” he asked.
I smiled. “I think so, but it won’t be a picnic. First, I’m going to request a full psych eval. That’ll mean some days in a hospital locked psych ward. I’ll handpick the doctor myself, so I know I trust them. You have to be honest in everything you see, hear, and feel, or it won’t work.”
“I promise,” he said.
“Good. Once we get those tests back, we’ll be in a better position to determine what you need. As far as your night terrors...You need to close off your mind to anything outside of yourself at dinner. Pray, meditate, read—whatever it takes to focus on you in the evenings. Make a list of goals or plans for when you get out. Name your family members.”
“Like counting sheep?”
“Sheep that are real and important to you. It grounds you in your life. If you let your mind be open, you can pick up on others’ dreams or nightmares, and you suffer when you don’t have to. Does that sound like a plan you’ll try?”
“Yes, thanks.”
Death appeared in one corner of the room under the camera.
Mark stood and backed up.
“It’s okay; I know him,” I said. “Damn it, what are you doing here?”
“He wants to die. He said so.” Death unscrolled a list.
“Stop it. That’s a bad joke. He’s not on the list, so you can’t take him,” I replied.
“Death. I’ve seen him. Take me, not Bob. Please!” Mark shouted.
“Calm down, Mark. Bob is dead. You’re flashing back,” I said.
“Suicide means people can change the list. You humans have free will, and you take it for granted.” Death pointed at Mark.
“But the Angel of Death doesn’t have free will. Mark is not on your list. Go, or I’ll find a way to get a message to your boss that you’ve gone rogue,” I threatened.
My Guardian Angel showed up, and Mark began to cry.
Matt burst in the room, and Death vanished along with my angel. Matt shook his head but hustled me out of there. Two other officers pounced on Mark.
“Don’t hurt him!” I yelled. “He’s going for a psych eval. If you’re abusive to a mentally damaged inmate, I’ll have you fired.”
“You’re very threatening today.” Matt nudged me down the hall. “You were threatening Death? You’re sure you don’t need a mental checkup?”
“Did you see the man in black?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “Thought I saw something. You and Mark were both upset. I had to make sure you were safe.”
“Mark didn’t hurt me. He didn’t touch me. I don’t want him punished,” I warned.
“You said psych eval? Got a psychiatrist for the referral?” he asked.
“I’ll get one. You’ll have the order and an ambulance will be here before five today. He’s probably suffering from borderline personality disorder, at the very least.”
“He held two jobs and had a decent apartment. A mental illness label won’t help him. He’s got a few years left. Hell, I believe the guy when he says it’s an accident. He should’ve gotten involuntary, but he had a crap public defender. Making him a mental patient is cruel.” Matt shook his head at me.
“He’s got some gifts, and he can’t handle them. Voices, night terrors, and all of that. That’s what he’s overreacting to. If he’s not crazy, he might end up that way without some help. We can have the independent eval and get him some mental support. A visit from a shrink for a weekly solo visit in prison isn’t impossible. There are a lot of hoops to jump through with the prison system, but Mark has nothing but time.” I took off the panic button and the visitor’s badge then handed them to Matt. “Thanks for the help. Will you text me when he’s transported?”
“Sure. You think therapy will help?” he asked.
“With the right therapist, yes. Mark can’t tell his own dreams from those of the murderers down the hall. This facility holds short-term inmates awaiting trial, as well as less dangerous ones for longer terms. It’s torture on Mark’s mind. With a little work, he’ll be able to sort through things with more confidence. If he’s really crazy, then it won’t make a difference, but we can treat him. Honestly, I don’t think that’s the case.” I leaned on the wall then forced myself to start the long walk back to my car. “I need to get back to the case. Thanks for the help.”
“You owe me, Dr. Oscar,” Matt called after me.
I smiled and kept walking.
Chapter Fourteen
Since the bar was a popular one, they refused to close for the investigation, so we were only able to investigate after hours. That was good for me since I needed recovery time between sessions. The Ghost Tamers had wanted to conduct more investigations on the third-floor attic while customers were downstairs, but that had been nixed because people did go up to the second floor, and that could contaminate the evidence. I was relieved because of the innocent patrons on the first floor. There was no guarantee that the spirits on the third floor wouldn’t start a fire or create another danger in the bar area.
Our second night started off much like the first. Being wired up and on camera again didn’t feel any better than it had before. Greg and the monks were there, praying on the first floor already. They inched closer to the storage room.
“Tonight, you’re in the attic. Try to communicate with what’s up there. Talk to them. See if you can get them to move on or whatever feels right,” Dale said.
“What about the storage room?” I asked.
Dale sighed. “We want to see if the prayers spark activity we can capture on video. We can do another full night for an exorcism if we have enough evidence.”
“My word isn’t enough?” I asked.
“People like to see things. And it might take several nights to clear the bar of demons and such.” Dale looked at the monitors.
“I know, but putting it off might not be the best bet.” I left Dale and headed for Greg. He gave me a little nod. If he was okay with the slow progression, I wouldn’t protest. I’d been studying off and on but was no expert in exorcism.
“You okay?” Steve asked.
“Sure.” I adjusted my necklaces, a full crucifix and a St. Benedict medal.
“You might get burned.” Steve pointed at them.
I shook my head. “No, they’re blessed, and it’s not just a plain cross. That’s a beginner’s mistake.”
“Dale said no necklaces, and we need to check each other before we leave,” Steve said.
I laughed. “I’m not going to be inspected. Let’s hit the stairs.”
The second I stepped on the property, I heard that voice again.
Give me your soul, and it’ll be better for you. I won’t take him.
I ignored the voice. I didn’t know who “him” was. Chet? Mark? Had this demon taken Bob’s soul when he died?
“There will be a cameraman in the attic already. I’ll feed you some questions and shoot you with the small camera.” Steve followed me.
“I don’t know why Dale is dragging it out. It won’t be easy.” I trudged up the stairs and ignored the oppressive feel of ghosts looming everywhere.
Part of me was relieved not to be in the storage room, for now.
“Greg said you were exhausted the last time. I hope you aren’t out of commission for another day after this,” Steve said.
“I’ll be okay, eventually. This place is powerful. The longer you tease them, the more time the demon has to watch and learn about us. Then, he can play tricks, work on your weaknesses, and store his strength.” I found a couple of chairs and small table had been added to the room.
“It’s a male demon?” he asked.
“Feels like.”
“Never thought about them having gender. If you believe in demons, you must believe in angels.” Steve was recording me already.
“Of course,” I said.
The room slowly came into focus. I could ignore it when I knew what was there. Now, I needed to engage with the horror.
“What are they like?” he asked.
I shot him a look. “I’m not sitting in this room with this much pain and stress to chat about angels. If they’re not here helping me, I don’t need to focus on them.”
“Sorry. What are you experiencing?” he asked.
I sighed. “The woman who kept these women prisoner is screaming at me again. She doesn’t like us here. Men make the enslaved ghosts upset. The controlling woman hates that I can see her and I’m not afraid of her. Why are you holding them here?” I asked the ghost.
She glared at me. “It’s all here. My power. My people. I’ll never leave. You’ll die here before I leave.”
I relayed her reply for the cameras.
“Wouldn’t Heaven be better than this? These women have suffered enough,” I countered.
She focused on me. “Here, I’m God. I have the power. The thing in the storage room only makes it easier for me. I endured enough in my life. I can torture some of your kind now.”
“My kind? White? Women have been enduring men ruling the world and controlling everything for centuries. Can’t we stick together and blame the men?” I asked.
The ghost smirked, but she didn’t say anything.
“Why are this room and the storage room both painted this shade of blue?” I asked.
“Voodoo protection. It keeps out the competition. There are worse things.”
“I live with ghosts in my house. Do you feed off the teenage girl that comes up here?” I asked.
“She’s got too much energy, anyway.” The woman grinned.
I relayed the last message. Before I could ask another question, Steve cut in.
“Have you killed anyone here?” he asked.
She shot across the room, and Steve’s chair tipped over.
“Steve!” I ran over.
“Men don’t come up here for a reason. They certainly don’t last long,” she said through gritted teeth.
Steve sat up and caught his breath. “What the hell?”
“Men aren’t welcome up here. You probably should stay quiet,” I said.
“Fine, you ask her,” Steve said.
“Has anyone ever died up here in your clutches?” I asked.
She smiled at me. “Nah, I’d rather suck the life out of them slowly. They get weak and stop coming. We’ve had plenty of guys like him. Investigators. You’re different, missy.”
“Deanna. What’s your name?” I asked.
“Martha, but I don’t like it. Master named me after the first First Lady. I was so little that I don’t remember my real name. But I remember what I was taught. My mama and my aunties taught me to keep my power quiet and close but to use it.”
“Eliminating pregnancy would be a dangerous business,” I agreed.
“Not just that. I had magic that had to be hidden. My mama was strong, but I was born stronger. These women were helpless. They gave up the old ways.” She smiled.
“Voodoo?” I asked.
“I’m not religious. I’m not a demon, so I don’t care how many times people paint this room blue. It keeps out the demons. I painted it first, but they keep it up. Voodoo is a religion that can be used for good or bad. I have something better. You should fear my magic.”
“Do you hurt everyone? Or just men?” I asked.
“Men are my preferred target. They hurt me most. You don’t sound Southern,” she said.
“I’m from Chicago. My family didn’t come here until after the 1900s. I can’t imagine what you went through. But I think I’d deserve a cushy cloud in Heaven after all that. Why relive your pain and other people’s?”
She turned her back to me and pulled down her dress.
Her back looked like ropes of licorice, not skin. “I’m so sorry. It’ll be gone. Scars and all of that, they vanish when you cross over.”
“You’ve been to Heaven?” she scoffed.
“Yes. I can talk to the dead; I can have visions of the past and future. And, yes, I can visit Heaven. You’d be so much happier there. So would they,” I said.
I saw Steve move out of the corner of my eye. He had his camera and didn’t look directly at me since that might seem odd. He saw something in the lens.
“They had it easier. No babies. Watching your babies become slaves and suffer is worse than anything they did to me.” Her face went hard.
“I can’t know what you’ve been through. But you need to stop this and let go of the pain. Now, you can see your children again. They’ll be there waiting for you,” I said.
“After what I’ve done to people living and dead, I’ll never be forgiven.”
She didn’t want to have hope.
I saw Steve leaning on the wall near the window. His posture was odd.
“You’ll be forgiven. What you endured made you act out. Plenty of people would’ve gone insane or killed themselves. You endured. You can choose to stop this and move on,” I said.
“But I like it. I need the power, not forgiveness.” She flung her arm.
Steve crashed through the old window. I mentally grabbed him and yanked him back. Running to him, I tried to pull him down, but once the force released him, his weight was too much for me to handle. He fell and landed half on me as we hit the wooden floor.
“Ouch,” I said.
“Sorry. I don’t know what just happened.” He shook his head.
“I don’t usually move things as big as a human being. Are you okay?” I checked his back for cuts.
“What the hell?” Steve said.
“You’re not bleeding,” I said.
“I don’t remember a thing. What happened? How did I get by the window?” he asked, panting for breath.
“The ghost was showing off. She doesn’t want to move on. Power and cruelty are more fun than seeing her own children.” I noticed the other cameraman sat there staring rather than following me. I snapped my fingers at him until he shook his head.
“Downstairs. Let’s go, but be careful.” I waved the other cameraman to go down first.
Steve smiled at me. “Thanks for saving me. Are you okay?”
I nodded as he stood and checked his camera. Shifting to my knees, I knew I’d have a few bruises tomorrow.
“You have the magic,” the woman said coolly.
I shook my head. “No magic. I have some powers and gifts. My brain is just wired funny. I can move things when I have to.”
After everyone was cleared medically, I was ready to call it a night.
“This place is dangerous. We need to be more cautious about spreading out. We need some people positioned throughout in case of emergency,” I said.
“Toby and Angela were getting great EVP responses in the main bar area. I think we should keep the communication going,” Dale said.
“You don’t need me for that,” I replied.
“Ghost box, then. Ask questions and get answers from the white noise. More immediate, anyway,” Toby said.
Dale looked at me.
“Me? Why me?” I asked.
“You were part of that big mess upstairs. You’re the center of the activity,” Dale said.
“Fine. Let’s get it over with,” I said.
I sat at the bar as the others set up a box, which made a shushing white noise sound.
“To the dark entity in the storage room, what do you want?” Toby asked.
Hissing came from the box. “Souls,” replied a low growling voice.
“Are you a dead person or a demon?” Angela asked.
Laughing came from the box.
“Don’t play games,” I snapped.
“Demon or spirit?” Toby repeated.
“Demon,” replied that low voice, again.
“What will make you go away?” I asked.
“Your soul,” the demon replied.
“How many souls do you want?” Angela asked.
“All of them.” The box then emitted a sharp noise.
“Shut it off. This is stupid,” I said.
Toby turned off the box. “You don’t believe it’s real?”
“I think you’re just giving the demon attention. That’s all it wants. You’re feeding it.” I slid off the stool.
Eddie’s soul or yours...
I turned on my heel. The demon was messing with my head. Using my brother. I blocked out the threat and left the bar.
Chapter Fifteen
New Orleans had the usual pop-up haunted house attractions around Halloween, but they were more popular with the locals than tourists. The real haunted tours proved more interesting to visitors. I had to check out the haunted house Mark had worked at, just to be sure nothing evil was feeding him from that angle.
“Ivy, you don’t have to come along. It’s more research and work than anything,” I said as we got into my SUV.
“I love these things. So overdone and crazy.” She was in high heels and a tight dress.
I’d worn old jeans, a form-fitting tank and a looser shirt over it that I didn’t mind throwing away. The fake blood, dirty rooms, and grabby hands of the actors weren’t something I wanted to waste good clothing on.
Driving over, Ivy was oddly quiet.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Greg mentioned how bad the bar you’re investigating is. That a cameraman was almost launched out a window. I wonder if people will even believe it. They’ll think it’s all rigged.”
“That’s not my first concern, but you might have a point about not airing this.” It wouldn’t break my heart if the show never made it to TV.
“He said you were arguing with a former slave. Should you do that?” Ivy asked.
“I was trying to convince her she’d be reunited with her children in Heaven. She worried about judgement, but what was done to her is so much worse, I hope, than what she did. It doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m sure there is more to her story she won’t tell me. That blue should be throughout the whole house.” I frowned.
