Dan's Hauntastic Haunts Investigates

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Dan's Hauntastic Haunts Investigates Page 7

by Alex Silver


  We sat in the van in silence but for our heavy breathing. I could think of much more pleasant ways to get our heart rates up. I shouldn’t though.

  Why was I thinking with my dick when Chad had just seen his first ghost? I was certain he would have questions. It was my responsibility to help him come to grips with ghosts existing. He wouldn’t be the first skeptic to change his mind.

  I watched for his reaction, but when his ragged breathing calmed he met my eyes and laughed. An eerie echo of the voice that had chased us through the barn moments ago.

  I sighed, Chad would come around to seeing what was in front of his nose given enough evidence. I had confidence in that fact. But being chased out of the barn by the spirit’s malevolent presence wasn’t enough evidence for my skeptic.

  “You had me going for a minute. Man, the set dressing almost made it feel real in the heat of the moment,” he said with a wry smile. So much for convincing him.

  SIXTEEN

  Chad

  “How did you slam the doors?” I asked.

  “I didn’t, the ghost did.”

  “Fine, keep your secrets. I suppose the cold breeze was from a draft?”

  “Why so determined to disbelieve what’s right in front of your eyes?” Daniel asked. He waved away any response I might give. “No, that’s fine. You’ll see the truth when you’re ready.”

  With all the barn’s structural damage that seemed reasonable. Was the draft strong enough to slam doors too? That seemed logical if Daniel hadn’t used some trick to do it, as he claimed. I’d watched enough of his show not to assume he would stoop to gimmicks. Trickery wasn’t his style.

  Odd for me to acknowledge, since his entire industry predicated itself on trickery, but Daniel was always so earnest about ghosts. I suspected he got caught up in the intense feelings when he explored spooky spots.

  After seeing this one first hand, I could understand the impulse to explain away the forces behind the sense of foreboding such places gave me. Easy to cast movement in the shadows as entities.

  The intensity of the experience made everything spookier. As we burst free of the barn though, the fear that had gripped me along with the strange phenomena had dissipated. I felt silly and suggestible for fleeing from nothing. Nothing chased us out into the weak light of sunset beyond the stable doors.

  We hadn’t stopped until we reached the safety of the van. Now it seemed childish to hide huddled on the floor. My initial glance at Daniel had revealed him looking as unnerved as I was. There had to be a logical explanation besides ghosts. Because ghosts didn’t exist.

  I just couldn’t explain how the heavy barn door slammed shut behind us. There had been no one else inside. A glance out the window as I stood confirmed I hadn’t imagined that. The door was closed.

  I shifted my focus to Daniel, helping him back to his feet. His breathing was no longer heavy, his face contorted in a grimace of pain as he put weight on his injured leg. I got him settled in the comfortable passenger seat.

  “You all right?”

  “Jostled the leg in all the excitement, hurts a bit is all.”

  “Uh, should I go back for the lighting kit?”

  “I don’t think you should go back inside alone,” Daniel said. “Grab the gear from the back, in the black duffel. I have an EM meter in there, maybe we can get some useful readings. Don’t suppose you kept rolling on our escape?”

  I’d all but forgotten that I’d grabbed the camera in my haste to get away from the unpleasant sensations inside the barn. The camera was still recording. I hit the stop button and handed it over to Daniel to deal with while I grabbed the requested gear.

  “Too bad,” he called as I opened the rear doors of the van to access the storage area under the bed platform.

  “What?”

  “You kept recording, good on you. But all you got after the doors started to move was a few frames of the ground before it goes dark. I assume because you covered the lens trying to keep the camera safe and get my butt to safety.”

  “Sorry,” I grunted as I settled the strap to the large black duffel I found there over my chest.

  The bag was heavy, and I was glad not to be carrying it over a binder. Wearing straps over my old binders always made the things ride up uncomfortably. The extra pressure on my ribs hurt by the end of a full day of work and classes.

  My days of dealing with that discomfort ended when I got top surgery though. Thanks to Chorus’s generous employee health policy I’d paid next to nothing out of pocket to remove the largest source of my dysphoria.

  I used my foot to nudge the van doors shut. Daniel made grabby hands for the bag when I returned, the camera sat in the empty driver's seat to his side. I slid the bag to the floor at Daniel’s feet, in the space between the sliding door and the shower stall.

  Daniel looked like he might haul the whole thing onto his lap, heedless of his cast. I took the initiative and unzipped it, pushing aside the flap to reveal a whole mess of stuff I only recognized from watching the show. I’d have to pay more attention to the gear now that I was helping him with it.

  “Grab that, right there. The box with the screen and dials. That’s an EM meter,” Daniel pointed. I grabbed the item and handed it to him. He fiddled with the knobs, as though tuning an old radio, “Aha! Grab the camera and get rolling, time to film a haunting segment.”

  He hopped out of his seat, leaning heavily on the doorframe. The pain served as a better reminder to take it easy than any amount of nagging on my part. I leaned across the open space where he’d removed the console to retrieve the camera. I climbed out of the van and traded him for the EM meter.

  “Walk me through how to use this, you stay here and shoot while I operate the equipment.”

  Daniel heaved a sigh, “Fine, ready?”

  I glanced at the device in my hands and nodded, even though I would have to wing this segment in its entirety. Better than Daniel doing more damage to his leg.

  “I’m rolling,” Daniel said, he had the lens pointed at me and a blinking red LED reinforced his words. I was on camera.

  I gave an awkward wave and almost dropped the EM meter thing, shit, so much for looking smooth on camera.

  “Hey, hi, I’m the new PA. Chad. Um, we just got chased out of an abandoned barn here at Goodman Dairy.”

  “Was that your first paranormal encounter, Chad?” Dan asked with a smirk. It was Dan talking now, the web personality and not Daniel, the guy I was getting to know.

  “Yeah. I’m shaken up.”

  “Aw, if I’d known you were a virgin, I’d have tried to be more gentle. Eased you into it,” Dan teased, he shot me a wink and I smiled at him. Banter worked. I could handle banter.

  “It’s all good,” I said, I would not react to him calling me a virgin. Nope. Not at all. Even if it made my knees wobble and my heart pound. “So what now? Do we venture back inside for readings?”

  “Yep, that’s the plan, so what my assistant has there, for those who are unfamiliar with the gear, is an EM meter from Ethereal Encounters brand. It’s a combination meter that gives readings on EM field fluctuations and changes in pressure and temperature. Chad, turn the meter so I can zoom in on the readout. Great, just like that. Okay, so what you’re seeing is a normal baseline amount of EM. Chad, bring the sensor to the barn. We’ll see what we pick up.”

  Daniel held up a hand for me to wait. I paused until he gave me a thumbs up and pointed toward the barn. At his okay, I suited my actions to his words, taking the device closer. I could hear Daniel’s labored steps behind me as he attempted to hold the camera steady while limping after me. Stubborn idiot was dead set on not letting himself heal.

  I glanced down at the dial and saw it jump as I approached the stable doors. I turned back toward Daniel.

  “It’s moving,” I held up the black box to corroborate.

  Daniel nodded, then gestured for me to pause. I tried to keep my focus on holding the device steady for the camera instead of the chill going up my sp
ine at being so close to the haunted barn. This was crazy, I didn’t believe in ghosts. There must be a better explanation.

  “When we exited the barn, we left the doors open wide. The presence that chased us out must have wanted us to stay out because the doors slammed behind us. Chad, are you okay?”

  “Still cold,” I said, my teeth chattering from the sudden chill, my breath ghosting the air as though it were the middle of winter instead of late summer.

  “That’s interesting. Chad, can you toggle to the temperature readout? Grab a reading there, near where we observed the manifestation. Then compare it with a reading closer to Vanessa.”

  “Sure,” I agreed. I shot Daniel a questioning look. He nodded for me to get on with it. I found the switch to change modes, and the screen lit up with weather data. Temperature and barometric pressure. I held it up for the camera to capture and started walking back toward Daniel. I’d seen him do similar on the show, so I maintained a slow, steady pace, the way he would.

  The readings were strange. Forty-four degrees by the barn doors. It abruptly rose as I neared the van, rising back to a seasonal seventy-three degrees. That couldn’t be right. I went back to the barn to confirm it was a glitch.

  I paused as I drew close, sudden anxiety gripping me. Ridiculous, there was nothing to fear here. At worst, the Goodman family had rigged up a few tricks to gain publicity. Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be ghosts. I stepped back up to the barn doors. The reading dipped a few degrees, down to sixty-eight.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, a few degrees could be the difference between being in the shade or not. No ghosts, only my mind playing tricks. Not real paranormal activity. I flicked the meter back to EM mode.

  The flick of the dial on the EM meter jumping caught my eye as a wave of cold air bowled me back a pace.

  “Oh shit!” I exclaimed.

  “What’s going on, Chad?”

  “Something pushed me. Shit, Dan, the meter moved, and it got cold and something pushed me!”

  “Take a temperature reading, quick.”

  I did. Fifty-five degrees. It had dropped over ten degrees in less than a minute. What could cause that? I angled the meter readout so that Dan could catch the readings on the camera, I hoped I wasn’t shaking too much, making the readings unintelligible.

  “Ok. We can take a hint, the spirit wants us out for now. Let’s see what our friend has to say. Grab the EVP device from the bag. We use it to record electronic voice phenomena.

  “It’s early enough in the investigation I’m inclined to back off for now. But we’ll give our ghost a chance to communicate first.”

  My hands were shaking, so I gripped the meter with both hands as I walked back over to Daniel.

  “Relax, Chad, you’re doing great. Put the EM meter away and grab the EVP recorder,” Daniel coached me. His warm voice thawed the icy fear in my chest at what had happened. Was it real or a hoax? Was Dan in on it, if it was the latter? And if it was real—it couldn’t be real—how dangerous was the situation? What would have happened if we didn’t run when we did?

  I rummaged through the duffel bag until I found the device he wanted. Glad for a distraction from my racing thoughts.

  “Chad.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re safe. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

  I gave a stiff nod of acknowledgement, “What do I do now?”

  “We will offer the spirit an opportunity to chat, bring the recorder close to the door and ask if it has anything to say to us.”

  I went, with more trepidation than I should have felt at approaching an empty building. I turned on the device and spoke, loud and clear.

  “If you’re here, we’re listening, spirit.”

  “Are you Frank Higgs? Do you have a message for us? We’re listening,” Dan called out too when nothing happened.

  My trepidation had all but evaporated, leaving embarrassment that a part of me had expected a dead man to talk to me. Still, we were recording, best make a good show of it.

  “If you have something to say, speak now, Frank,” I stumbled over the words because they made me feel like a kid playing pretend. I didn’t believe this stuff. I didn’t.

  There was no response. The abnormal chill in the air had faded again. It shouldn’t disappoint me. Of course the ghost didn’t talk to me. It wasn’t real.

  “Nothing?” Dan asked.

  “Nothing,” I confirmed.

  “That’s all right. We have plenty of time to get the ghost talking. They sometimes respond better if they have a connection to the person contacting them.”

  “Should we call Steph or Lara?”

  Daniel took a moment to consider before nodding.

  “It can’t hurt. We can see if the spirit is more talkative for the family. I don’t think we should risk going back inside today though. No need to feed the ghost more living energy tonight.”

  I sent Steph a text explaining what we wanted to try. Within moments she confirmed that she and her aunt were on their way. With nothing better to do, we waited.

  SEVENTEEN

  Dan

  Chad paced while we waited for Lara and her niece, I stood propped on my crutches, gritting my teeth through the pain in my broken leg.

  It hadn’t bothered me much up to now, other than my reduced mobility. Our panicked flight from the building had wrenched it something awful. I should rest it, maybe pop a pain pill. Instead, I kept as much of my weight off it as possible and observed my assistant.

  I’d known going in that he was a skeptic, but so far he’d done a good job humoring my enthusiasm about the paranormal. Now he was struggling to accept what he’d seen.

  From his reactions today, I doubted he would remain a disbeliever for much longer. There was only so much a person could rationalize, and this haunting was already proving to be one of the most active I’d investigated.

  The familiar four by four rattled along the packed dirt field road. A large black and tan dog from the farmhouse loped along at their side, tongue lolling. When they took the last bend in the road, where the vehicle’s destination became clear, the dog lagged.

  Hackles raised, the animal dropped to its haunches with a low whine. Lara pulled up beside us. Steph whistled to the dog, trying to coax it closer to no avail.

  “None of the animals like this field, it’s why we don’t graze the cattle here anymore,” Lara commented, tipping her head toward the overgrown pasture land around the abandoned structure.

  What remained of the fencing out here was in disrepair, boards broken and bowed, posts tilted at odd angles. The whole area was subject to the vagaries of rot and decay.

  If nothing else, it created the perfect esthetic for filming Hauntastic Haunts. I made a mental note to capture the disrepair in our exterior shots of the barn before we wrapped filming. Later.

  At the moment, I hoped to take advantage of the spirit’s activity. See if the apparition would confirm its identity or failing that, help us determine what held it to this place.

  Lara and Leon’s stories weren’t much to go on. I had my suspicions after our preliminary research though. There was only one noteworthy death that fit all the details.

  I hoped the interviews Chad had arranged for the rest of the week would shed some light on who Frank Higgs had been in life. And whether he was behind this haunting.

  “Hmm, wonder why that is,” I said. In my experience, animals were more aware of the paranormal than humans. They had the sense to avoid hauntings.

  “It’s creepy out here,” Steph observed, hugging her arms over her chest in a protective gesture.

  “No argument here,” Chad said.

  “Right, well, if we send the spirit to its rest that should help.”

  “Do we know who we’re dealing with?”

  “Nothing confirmed yet. I know you said at dinner you didn’t know of any deaths happening in or around the barn. No accidents or anything.”

  “I don’t remember the family mention
ed anything serious anyway,” Lara nodded.

  “Well, we had something manifest. I’ve got a tool that allows us to communicate with the spirits if there are any auditory phenomena. While we were filming, we heard disembodied footsteps, but you mentioned you’ve heard voices before?”

  “A voice, talking to the cows, it sounds like. Might be a trick of the acoustics. We spend minimal time there.”

  “Right, well, it’s worth a shot. Chad, do you have the EVP recorder?”

  Chad, ever the helper, strode to the van and rummaged around for the gear I’d requested.

  He returned to my side and handed over the device. I handed him the camera.

  “Roll on this. I want a single continuous shot. Try to capture all the audio, I can edit it down to just the pertinent shots after. Focus on reaction shots to whatever happens. A few zooms on the device readout as the results merit. But viewers get more out of seeing a person’s facial expressions and honest reactions than numbers and dials on a display readout, got it?”

  “Gotcha,” Chad agreed, he raised the viewer on the camera to his eye and hit record. I put on a bright smile for the camera. My leg wasn’t up to standing without my crutches, so I stayed in place, cognizant that the framing could be better than me propped against Vanessa’s open door.

  “We’re standing outside the haunted barn after a manifestation drove Chad and I away. I’ve got two members of the family who have lived on this land for generations with me to get the ghost talking. This is Lara Goodman, and her niece Stephanie. Are you two ready to make contact?

  “Sure,” Lara agreed. Steph looked less certain about the whole thing.

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “Most spirits cannot interact much with the physical world. It takes too much energy. To be on the safe side, we won’t push too hard today, but it should be safe. If you’re both ready, we’ll give our spirit one last crack at communicating before we finish filming for the day.”

  “Ready. Tell us what to do,” Lara said.

  “Take EVP recorder and approach the barn door. We recorded EM activity and a cold spot in front of the door earlier, so that area is within the ghost’s range. Stand there and offer to talk. We’ll record whatever happens.”

 

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