“What’s its name?” I asked.
“Whose name?” said Isaac.
“Your cat’s name.”
“This is Hannibal. You can try to pet him, but don’t be offended if he hates you. He hates everything.”
I knew what it was like to be uncomfortable around strangers. I left Hannibal be.
“Has he been behaving strangely?” I asked. Sometimes animals reacted to the paranormal even when humans didn’t notice it at all.
“He’s been hissing a lot, but he’s in a new place, and he’s crotchety anyway-”
Isaac was already fleeing back to denial. I clenched my teeth. I didn’t need him making excuses and rationalizations about what had happened tonight. He’d called me for a reason. This was the opening I needed. This was my chance to get him to see reason — to get him to move to safety.
The kettle boiled before I could figure out what to say next. I busied myself making tea for Isaac.
“Do you take cream?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at him.
He arched an eyebrow at me. If I’d been a blushing man, my face would have flamed.
“Creamer,” I spluttered. “In your tea. I have some in my belt bag.”
“You’re the Mary Poppins of fanny packs, aren’t you?”
“My belt bag is full of necessary resources.”
“I take my tea black,” said Isaac.
I scrutinized him as I took him his hot drink. Isaac looked pale, vulnerable, and unacceptably attractive with so little clothing on. I chided myself for staring. I was trying to help Isaac, not hook up with him.
I took the plastic-y seat across from the bed and placed my phone on the armrest, set up as a voice recorder.
I leaned forward and braced my elbows on my knees. “I’m going to need to ask you some questions about what happened tonight.”
“It was dark. I freaked myself out.” Isaac’s eyes searched the room desperately, as though he might find a rational, scientific explanation for the past hour written on his walls.
“It was dark because the lights mysteriously went out?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Isaac. He laughed weakly. “I can’t believe I called you.”
“I need to know exactly what happened.”
“I told you exactly what’s happening. My light went out.”
“Did you hear anything before or after that? Did you see anything out of the ordinary?”
Isaac shifted his position and tugged his legs up so they were crossed underneath him. Hannibal curled in his lap and looked at me through judgmentally narrow eyelids.
“I heard thumping. Lots of thumping and creaking in the walls. I’ve been hearing it since I moved in here. I think there’s something wrong with the plumbing.”
I nodded. The thumping was run-of-the-mill for this floor. Everyone from guests to maintenance to management blamed it on the plumbing, but I never believed that. I knew the truth. Tortured souls banged on the walls of the Cressley hotel during the witching hour; pipes had nothing to do with it.
“Have you been experiencing cold spots?” I asked Isaac.
“Cold spots?” He chewed his lip. “I mean, it gets cold sometimes, but that doesn’t mean ghosts-”
“So that’s a yes on cold spots,” I said.
He groaned. “This is stupid.”
“You’re the one who rang me up, terrified.”
That shut him up. He looked away from me and stared into his teacup.
“Even if I’m wrong about what’s going here, what’s the harm in telling me what you’ve experienced?” I pressed. “There’s a part of you that thinks I might be right, or you never would have called me over here.”
There was a long pause. I was starting to think Isaac was done with talking for the night when he spoke again. “It’s a small part of me. Like one atom. Half an atom. A quarter of an atom of my entire body thinks there’s a tiny chance there could be ghosts in this hotel. The rest of me thinks there’s a rational, scientific explanation for everything.”
“Is there a reason you don’t think that rational, scientific explanation could be ghosts?”
He raised his eyebrows at me.
“Tell me about the cold spots,” I said.
He looked like he was going to argue, but then he sighed, took a sip of tea, and looked at me, defeated. “I’ve been waking up freezing every night since the third day I moved in here.”
“You woke up freezing tonight as well?”
He nodded. “Tonight especially.”
“Is there anywhere in particular that’s colder than other spots?”
“By the front door is the worst.” His hands trembled around his cup. “And then- Well, the reason I called you- I, um…” He fell silent.
“You what?” I knew I couldn’t push too hard, but I wished he would spit it out already.
“I heard someone knocking on my door.”
“And when you opened it, no-one was there?”
He shook his head. “It was probably kids playing tricks on me.”
“It was probably ghosts.”
“How can you say that with a straight face?” he asked.
“Continue with your story.”
Isaac meekly told me all about the whispers he heard in his ears and the cold breezes that stroked his arms. To me, it was obvious what was going on. This was a textbook haunting.
“Then-” Isaac swallowed. “Then Hannibal started hissing. I was going to try and help him calm down when I felt someone grab my shoulder.”
“You felt someone grab your shoulder?” I asked. My gut flipped. “You mean you made physical contact with a spirit?”
“No, I didn’t make physical contact with a spirit, because that’s not possible,” said Isaac. “I thought I felt something grab me, and then I turned around, and no-one was there- But it was probably my imagination. It had to be my imagination, right?” The vulnerability in his eyes made my gut ache. He was beseeching me for an answer I couldn’t give. I wished I could keep his world intact, but there were facts here that he would be ignorant to ignore.
“It’s not your imagination, Isaac.”
“But it has to be. For fuck’s sake-” He threw his hands into the air despairingly. “I make a living making fun of this crap.”
I wished I knew how to make Isaac feel better. I wanted to touch him, take his hand in mine and look into his eyes and tell him things would be okay. But I didn’t know how.
“I’m sorry,” I said simply. “I know this must be hard.”
Isaac scratched behind his ear. “Why are you being nice to me?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, all I’ve done is laugh at you. And here I am, all scared of the dark or whatever, and you’re not telling me I-told-you-so. Shouldn’t you be telling me I-told-you-so?”
“How would that help either of us?”
He stared at me. I couldn’t read the expression on his angular face. His pale lips were parted and dry, and his jaw was clenched, but those green eyes were bright and sharp. I had to look away. Whatever I felt when I looked at Isaac, it wasn’t productive.
“I need to do some work,” I said gruffly.
“Work?” repeated Isaac.
“I have to take some photos of your room.”
“Why?” Isaac hugged Hannibal to him.
“Sometimes things show up on film that don’t show up to the naked eye.”
He chuckled. “You mean orbs, right? Dust?”
“Sometimes it’s dust,” I said. I was impressed by Isaac’s commitment to skepticism, even after he’d called me over. Denial was a powerful force. “Sometimes it requires further investigation.”
I snapped a few shots. I didn’t have Elliot’s state-of-the-art camera with me, so I had to use my phone. Small, glowing balls of light showed up in every picture. Skeptics said orbs were specks of light caught in the light. They might have been right, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t pore over these photos with Elliot at the next op
portunity I got.
“Did you get any good photos?” asked Isaac as I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
I shrugged. “We’ll see. Now I’m going to check this room for electromagnetic fields. Do you know what an EMF meter is?”
“I’ve seen Ghost Adventures.” His vulnerability was starting to slink away, his wry smile slowly rising like a shield around him.
“Then you know how it works. I point this around to see if it detects strong electromagnetic fields. If it does, that suggests paranormal activity.”
“But a lot of things can set off EMF meters. Microwaves, electrical outlets-”
“I account for all of that.” I knew these rooms like the back of my hand. I studied the blueprints religiously, and I knew where every electrical device was.
“If you say so.”
I switched on my EMF meter, and it crackled excitedly. “Medium levels of supernatural activity in this room,” I muttered aloud.
“What does that mean?” asked Isaac.
I didn’t respond. I was focussed on the EMF meter. I paced around the room with it, trying to chase the strongest signals. It crackled, screeched, and buzzed in my hand.
Isaac leaned against a wall like a truant teen with a cigarette. “Can I ask you a question?”
“I’m working.”
“What are you going to do when you find these ghosts? How are you going to get rid of them?”
“Hopefully I can help them resolve their unfinished business with the living so that they can pass on peacefully,” I said. “Failing that, I’ve got a taser.”
“A taser? For ghosts?”
“Yes. Elliot helped develop it.”
“Who the hell is Elliot?”
“He’s my partner?”
“Partner?” Isaac’s face turned sulky.
“We investigate supernatural occurrences together.”
Isaac’s condescending grin was back in an instant. “So what is this ghost taser supposed to do?”
“It uses magnets to disrupt a spirit’s electromagnetic field temporarily.”
“Magnets,” said Isaac in disbelief. “Does it really work?” He shook his head. “What am I saying? Of course it doesn’t work.”
“It works in theory,” I said. “I’ve never had the chance to use it. But it only disrupts the spirits temporarily. It doesn’t get rid of them.” I paused for a moment. “Collecting data is all well and good, but I want to work out how to stop these entities from hurting anyone ever again.”
“To be fair, if there was a ghost here — and there probably wasn’t — it only touched my shoulder,” said Isaac. “It didn’t hurt me.”
I ignored Isaac’s protestations. Higher and higher readings buzzed through the EMF meter as I neared the bathroom.
“There’s something in the bathroom,” I whispered.
“When you say it like that, it sounds creepy,” said Isaac.
“It is creepy.”
I pushed the bathroom door open, and the hinges screamed in protest. The bathrooms in the Cressley Hotel were a unique type of disgusting. They were layered with so many years of grime that it would never come off, no matter how hard the cleaners scrubbed. It stunk in here like disinfectant covering up generations of mold, and a little bit like Hannibal’s cat litter. I usually felt conspicuously large, but in this tiny room with Isaac, I was gigantic.
Isaac put down the lid on the faded teal toilet and perched atop it, hunching his body so that his elbows rested on his slightly spread knees. A thin layer of body fat creased by his bellybutton. I wished he would put clothes on. That body was painfully distracting, and I had a job to do.
The closer I got to the shower, the louder the EMF meter crackled. I brushed aside the mildew-tinged curtain to get a better look, to see if there was any non-supernatural explanation for such a high reading.
Something smacked me hard on the back of the head, and pain flashed down my neck.
The shower head clattered onto the damp aluminum floor. It was so quiet in here, with both of us holding our breath, that the sound was louder than a foghorn in my ear.
“Are you okay?” said Isaac.
“I’m fine.” I winced and prodded the spot where the shower head had slammed into me. It hadn’t been heavy, but it had been sharp. “Did you see what happened?”
“The shower head fell on you.”
As far as supernatural attacks went, this was tame. But it was an attack, and that put me on high alert.
“Maybe the ghost is about to take a shower,” suggested Isaac. “Maybe we caught them naked.”
“Be serious. We might be in danger.”
“Because of the shower head?” Isaac sounded incredulous. “If that’s all these so-called ghosts can do, I’ll be fine.”
“If the spirit is making any kind physical contact…” I trailed off.
“It’s a slippery slope from shower heads falling down to ghosts slitting your throat while you sleep, huh?”
I shot him a severe look. “I certainly hope not. But you should move somewhere safer.”
Isaac scraped his hands over his face. He looked as if he was going to say something, but I cut him off before he could. “I’m going to try and record some EVP. Be quiet, please.”
“EVP? Is that an STI?” He laughed wryly at his own joke.
“I think you’re thinking of HPV. EVP stands for Electronic Voice Phenomenon. It’s currently the most effective way to speak to spirits. I take this tape recorder-” I pulled a small device out of my belt bag. “And record myself asking some questions. If we’re lucky, when we listen back to this, we’ll get some answers.”
Isaac looked skeptical, but he gestured for me to go ahead.
“Is there someone in here with me?” I asked.
I paused to leave the spirit enough time to answer before I moved on to my next question.
“Obviously,” Isaac interrupted. “I’m sitting on the toilet seat.”
I paused the recording. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, you can leave.”
“This is my room, remember?” said Isaac.
“You called me here,” I pointed out for what felt like the millionth time.
“I know, but-” He shook his head and rubbed his hand behind his ear. “It was dark and my imagination was running away with me. Showerheads falling? Weird knocks on my door? It’s nothing.” He didn’t meet my eyes. “You should go.”
“I need to check that you’re safe before I go anywhere.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not going to leave you in danger.” I would be firm on this.
Isaac sighed. “How much more do you have to do?”
“The sooner you start being quiet, the sooner I’ll be done.”
Isaac mimed zipping up his lips and throwing away the key. I gritted my teeth. Isaac had convinced himself that he’d overreacted to nothing, and his cocky, skeptical smirk was back in full force. I wished he would take this situation more seriously, but I was glad to see that smile. I hated seeing anyone scared and vulnerable, and Isaac was no exception.
I repeated my question to the room. “Is there a presence in here with me?”
“Hold up,” said Isaac.
“What is it now, Isaac?”
“If this ghost is a murderer, why would it want to talk to you? You’re like, a ghost cop.”
“Can I keep doing this, or are you going to keep pestering me?”
“I’m just curious.”
“I- This is the way it works.”
“Why?” probed Isaac.
I glared at him.
“Okay, okay,” said Isaac. “I’ll stop pestering.”
After the third time I repeated my question, Isaac — to my shock — stayed quiet.
After a substantial pause, I spoke to the room again “Why are you here?” I asked.
“To kill people,” said Isaac from behind me. “Apparently.”
“Do you know what being quiet means, Isaac?”
He shrugged. “I’m not a fan of following orders.”
“That could get you seriously hurt.”
He smirked. “I think I’ll take my chances.”
I bit my lower lip to steel myself. I needed to stay calm. Isaac might have been infuriating, but I needed to protect him. I couldn’t refuse to look after someone because they got on my nerves, or because I was unbelievably attracted to them.
“Can I do this please?” I said. “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I’m done.”
Isaac held his hands in the air as though he was surrendering. I didn’t think he knew the meaning of the word surrender.
“Go ahead,” he said. “I promise I’ll actually shut up this time. Your questions just make these jokes so easy...”
“Well, your presence makes things hard for me.”
“Hard, huh?” Isaac smirked.
I clenched my teeth, shook my head, and spoke to the presence in the room again. “Why are you here?”
I shot a sharp glare at Isaac before he had the chance to say anything. He shot me a wicked smile.
After an appropriate amount of time had passed, I spoke again. “What is your name?”
Isaac sniggered, but I ignored him this time. He wanted to get a reaction out of me. I wouldn’t let him.
After I’d asked everything on my basic list of EVP questions, I turned back to Isaac. “You can tease me now.”
“It’s no fun if you let me do it.”
I wasn’t the eye-rolling type, but Isaac tempted me. “That’s all I needed to do.”
“Great.” Isaac clapped his hands together and got to his feet. “Well, I’ll call you if a naked zombie shows up in here later.”
I thought he was going to leave the room, but instead he slipped past me and into the shower stall. His bare skin brushed like a whisper of wind against the hairs on my arm. I swallowed hard so I wouldn't gasp.
He bent to retrieve the shower head from the ground, but before I could get a proper look at his ass, he let out a small cry and stumbled back. The shower head was spinning out of control on the aluminum floor, writhing around like an angry snake and spewing dirty water.
Metal crashed against metal. Adrenaline filled me like gunpowder. I yanked Isaac out of the way, pushed him behind me, and reached for my ghost taser. It was a simple, slim device with a manual dial. Heart pounding, I turned it up as high as it could go. I had no idea if I could win against a ghost, but I wasn’t afraid to fight.
The New Paranormal Page 6
