Modern Tales of Fantasy

by Joan Hazel

The scene before me was almost more than the human brain could process. I knew what brought me here. Some call it intuition. Some call it being psychic. I only know that I went where the feelings took me, and merciful Goddess, I wish I hadn't.

  No matter how many missing person cases I worked on, finding a body was never easy, especially, when the body was that of a child. The families always insisted on knowing the details. Most I would omit, because for the deceased, details were irrelevant.

  There I stood, shin deep amidst the murk and mud of a low lying swamp surrounded by death and decay. Lifeless limbs bumped against my legs as the dead floated about me. It is amazing, how little water it takes for a corpse to float. I suppose that's because when you're dead, you finally lay back and go with the flow, so to speak.

  Over the years I have lost count of the number of missing person cases I have worked. Normally, I have no qualms about them. But I must admit, there was something about this one that unnerved me from the beginning.

  That's why I called in my dear friend, Harold Reece, to help get me through this one. I know the name Harold, or Harry as I called him, is not that exciting as far as names go. But it was a good name, a solid name, a name that fit him.

  I could hear Harry now. He, along with the other officers, tore their way through the thick underbrush behind me. If I looked, I could catch glimpses of their flashlights as they fought to find footing beneath the canopy of trees and shrubs along the outlying area of the Institution of Ascension.

  As I stood there, I remembered a sound bite from one of the Institution's commercials. The path to enlightenment awaits you. Come to the Institution of Ascension, and ascend the everyday and mundane. Obviously, the Institute left out the part where their form of ascension meant you died. I guess the marketing department decided it might look bad for PR.

  "Jade!" I heard my name as it carried across the cool night breeze. From Harry's tone, I could tell he was not too happy with me. He had never been a fan of going on my "wild goose chases", as he liked to call them. That's because more times than not my chases, no matter how wild, always yielded a goose. And this particular goose was not what I expected.

  Then again, how could anyone, even a psychic, prepare themselves for something like this? The answer is-you can't. I describe being psychic as feel-work. I feel for an answer to a question. If it feels right, then it is. If it feels wrong, then it is, and I go another direction.

  "Over here," I called back, as I stared into the blackness of the night.

  "Jade, damn it. Turn on your flashlight! How the hell do you expect me to find you if I can't see you?" Harry barked at me.

  I cringed. The last thing I wanted to do was turn on my flashlight. There was enough moonlight for me see, and I did not want confirmation of what I felt. No, I'm not scared of the dead. I have probably spoken to more of them than I have the living. That doesn't mean I liked seeing what was left of their mutilated bodies floating past me.

  But before I could do as he asked, Harry broke free of the bushes.

  "Careful," I said and held out my arm to stop him from plunging into the foul, frigid water.

  "Ugh. What the..." I heard someone grunt as they stepped off the embankment into the water. Then one by one the others fought their way into the clearing. Five officers in all were called to the scene. I did not look in their direction. Instead I stared, best I could, into Harry's face.

  "Stop!" I yelled. "Everyone just stop." And they did. I was actually a bit surprised at that, but what the heck? I'd take it. "Everyone, stay where you are and look down." Almost in unison, six beams of light went toward the water.

  Slowly, the rumblings and whispers began. I really couldn't blame them. If I had been a cursing woman, I would have said a few choice words too.

  Harry's emotions wavered from confusion, to frustration, to horror and he was not one to be easily shocked. Death was no stranger to Harry. He had been a police detective for more than 15 years, and before that a soldier in the Gulf Wars. Still, he was visibly shaken by what he saw.

  He grabbed my out-stretched arm and grunted as he tried to pull me up the embankment. "Get out of there."

  I jerked my arm away. "I can't, Harry. She's here," I said. "Angelina. She's over there."

  Finally, I built up the nerve to turn on my flashlight and look in her general direction. Sure enough, her lithe body rested, face-up atop two others. The moonlight reflected blue-ish white off her light colored gown. The dark tips of her hair floated like seaweed upon the rippling water.

  I glanced back at Harry. The look on his face was less than pleased. I could only imagine the legal and logistical nightmare being orchestrated inside his head. He would have to make sure every "T" was crossed and every "I" was dotted because I had just put he and his department in a rather sticky situation. Warrants? Who needs 'em?

  "Jade, you know I can't allow you to move her body. Now get out of the water." His tone was that of a father trying to placate his child. When in reality, he wanted to yell for me to get my "A double S" out of the water. "Please," he gently added.

  He was right. I couldn't move her. That was someone else's job. The crime lab would be called and there would be an investigation especially if the Institute for Ascension was involved, and it was. It would be a rather odd coincidence for a hundred bodies to be dumped on their property and they not know anything about it. And I for one do not believe in coincidences.

  "What was that noise?" I heard a female officer to my left say. "Did you hear something?" she asked the person next to her.

  "Maybe," the man beside her answered.

  We all stopped. No talking. No shuffling. Only seven people staring into the shadowy night, listening.

  "Help me. Someone. Please." The faint cry of a man's voice came from somewhere in the darkness.

  There it is again," the officer said, as she sprinted off in the direction of the disembodied voice.

  I wanted to call out to the officer, to tell her not to go. That she was only hearing the carry-over from a spirit that hadn't realized he had passed on. In retrospect, I should have, but I didn't have the heart, nor did I think she would believe me.

  You see, what most people don't know, or would even believe, is that all of us hear spirits on a daily basis. We simply don't realize it. We dismiss the sounds as ambient noise from a passing car or bleed-over from someone's MP3 player. But in truth, those little noises you can't quite place are noises from the other side, bumping their way back into this world.

  My eyes met Harry's and I shook my head. No words need be spoken between us. We had worked together long enough for him to know what I was thinking. There was only one person here who could help, and that someone was me. Once again Harry offered his hand to me and this time, I accepted.

  My shoes were filled with slush and I found it difficult to keep up with those who jogged around the edge of the water. Luckily for me, Harry was at my side every step of the way. I could see the muscles work along his jaw-line as he bit back the urge to reprimand me. I shouldn't have run so far ahead of him and the others, but I didn't want to lose my feelings of Angelina.

  Harry's reprimand was coming. I could feel that too. But, he would be gentlemanly enough to wait until we were alone. He needed time to process his emotions. That, and have a good stiff drink in his hand.

  "Over here," the officer called as she jumped into the water. "I got you sir," she said trying her best to be calm and reassuring. "Don't worry. Help is on the...what the hell?" She exclaimed as she dropped the body back into the water with a loud splash. Flailing wildly, she clawed her way from the bog, retching violently near the tree line.

  Without waiting for help, the young officer had dove into the water and lifted the man's head. Only then did she see that the upper left quadrant of his skull, along with his brains, was missing. Looking to my left I saw the man standing there.

  Hollywood would like for you to believe spirits appear grotesque and horrific. Often, they are shown covered in the g
ore of how they died. Let me assure you, they do not. At least they never have to me. To me they appear exactly how they appeared in life, only a bit more translucent. Many times they are confused or angry, depending upon how they passed.

  "Okay everyone lets meet over by that tree and re-group," Harry ordered, as he pointed the beam of his flashlight toward a large oak.

  I felt the warmth of Harry's body as he stepped closer. The back of his hand brushed intimately against mine. Once. Then twice, entwining his fingers with mine. He allowed them to linger there for barely a heartbeat before he walked away. It was his way of telling me everything would be okay, of reminding me, in the darkest of moments, I was not alone.

  Once I was sure Harry and the others were out of range, I took a deep breath and turned back to the water. "Sir, I know you're there," I said softly.

  "I can't see you," he answered back.

  Not a good sign. "Look to your right," I directed.

  "Do you have a flashlight or something?" he asked.

  Really not a good sign. I looked down at the burning light in my hand and turned it off. I know it may sound strange, but spirits have a hard time seeing artificial light. I don't have a good explanation as to why that is - it's merely the way of things. He would actually have an easier time finding me if I had a candle, but at the moment, I was fresh out. I could only hope my aura would be strong enough