SPIRIT LOVERS 2
A collection of five paranormal stories
Edited by Miranda Forbes
Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2010
ISBN 9781907726354
Copyright © Accent Press Ltd 2010
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Widow's Walk Giselle Renarde
Halloween Surprise Roxanne Rhoads
Third Time Lucky Kitti Bernetti
The Washstand Elizabeth Coldwell
The Tree Roger Frank Selby
Widow’s Walk
by Giselle Renarde
‘Let me know when you’re done setting up the equipment,’ he whispered to Brenda. Although the old New England home was abandoned and falling into disrepair, Marley didn’t want to make too much noise. They hadn’t secured permission from the legal owners to be on the property. At best, they were trespassing. At worst, police would consider it a break and enter.
Ah, the legal ramifications of fame and fortune! Well, perhaps not fortune. He and Brenda were out of pocket on travel and equipment, but they saw the fruits of their labour more and more with every broadcast. Marley and Brenda hosted a self-created, self-produced web-only paranormal investigation programme called Ghost Hunting on a Shoestring. As the name suggests, they conducted their explorations of reputedly haunted houses with as little gear as possible. All those EMF devices and thermal cameras cost big bucks, and they knew most viewers couldn’t afford that shit. Hell, neither could they!
The show developed a cult following early on, but ratings sky-rocketed after they caught on film what seemed to be a shadow figure in his great-uncle’s guest bedroom. Ever since, consumer demand insisted they seek out the mysteries of the unknown in more prestigious locations. Problem was, they couldn’t seem to get permission for entry. They’d done a few B&E’s on dilapidated buildings back home, but when viewers started e-mailing them about Stately House, they knew they had to check it out with or without official authorisation.
In a hushed voice, Brenda said, ‘Everything’s set to go. We’re coming on dusk. Let’s try to do the intro in one take, OK? Keep to the script. No screwing around tonight.’ Brenda was especially tense on investigations, particularly now that their veiwership was on the rise. Before, it was all fun and games. Now, it was business. And if there was one thing Marley knew about Brenda, she was ruthless in her business pursuits.
Brenda pressed the record button on the tripod cam as he powered up his handheld. Plastering a huge smile across her face, Brenda started the intro. ‘Hello and welcome to another great episode of Ghost Hunting on a Shoestring. I’m your host, Brenda Walluschuk, and this is my partner in crime, Marley Grieves.’ Turning to him with an unnatural grin, she went on, ‘Marley, why don’t you tell our viewers about tonight’s investigation?’
‘Thanks, Brenda.’ In truth, he hadn’t looked at the intro script. He preferred to wing it. ‘We’ve been getting tons of emails from you guys, telling us we have to check this place out. To prove we actually listen to you, here we are in beautiful New England to investigate Stately House.’
With a glare, Brenda asked, ‘And what kind of activity can we expect to see out here tonight?’
Marley ignored her and turned his handheld camera on the still-furnished attic room. ‘The big claim revolves around the room we’re standing in right now, on the third floor of Stately House. This is called a widow’s walk. Many New England houses were built with rooms like this for the wives of men who’d gone out to sea. If I turn the camera out this window, you’ll note the ocean on the horizon. All across the territory, women would stand at windows like these, watching for their men’s boats to come in safely, and then waiting for them to come traipsing up the path back to the house.’
Brenda always claimed he was hogging the spotlight. She took over. ‘This very room belonged to one such New Englander – a young woman named Lottie Stately. Lottie’s fiancé was a seaman named Walter. Just after their engagement, the young man set sail, promising his vessel would return two weeks prior to their wedding date.’
Marley finished off the story. ‘A fortnight before the wedding, Lottie set herself down by this window and stared out to sea. A week went by, and then two, and then three. There was no news about Walter or his vessel. After a month, it was presumed lost at sea. We know of Lottie’s despair from her journal and records kept by other family members. The girl stopped eating and wouldn’t take any water. At the tender age of 21, she died of a broken heart.’
‘Since then,’ Brenda continued, ‘the figure of a woman has been seen in this very window. Common belief is that it’s Lottie on her widow’s walk, still pining for her lost love. There are also reports of being touched or breathed on, especially from male visitors.’
Marley clicked off his camera, and Brenda followed suit. ‘Nice job,’ he said to her. ‘I think we can cut it.’
‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice your total disregard for my script.’
‘So noted.’ He knew his way was better, and Brenda must know it too or else she’d convince him they needed a second take. ‘How do you want to work this? Call out to the spirits and see what we get?’
The idea of making contact seemed to improve Brenda’s mood, and she clapped her hands, then wove her fingers together. ‘Can you imagine if we get a response?’
With a genuine smile, Marley turned on both cameras and their digital voice recorder. They started with the basics. When they got no answer introducing themselves to any spirits present, Brenda went on trying to engage any entities by reading Lottie’s doctor’s medical report in the days leading up to her death. When she went on to cite passages from Lottie’s journal, Marley felt a breath on his neck and turned fast around. Nothing there. His bare arms went goosepimply as he looked all about the widow’s walk.
‘What is it, Marley?’ Brenda asked.
‘I felt a breath,’ he whispered. ‘On my neck. I felt a breath.’
Brenda’s expression grew earnest. She stood perfectly still as she asked, ‘Is anybody here with us?’
In his ear, Marley heard a voice: Get her out! His heart beat like a mallet against his ribs. ‘Did you hear that?’ he hissed to Brenda.
She shook her head only slightly, still listening intently as the air in the widow’s walk grew heavy. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Why? Did you?’
Nodding his head a mile a minute, he grabbed the voice recorder and pressed rewind. When he played it back, there was nothing to hear.
‘What?’ Brenda asked again.
Marley began, ‘I thought I heard … ’ but cut himself off before telling her. What if Brenda took it as a threat? There was no evidence of any voice on tape. It must have been his imagination.
No sooner had he settled into the dusty velvet chair than he heard a voice so close it sounded like it was inside his head. ‘Ask the woman to leave,’ it said. ‘Don’t tell her why. I will appear to you when she’s gone.’
Sitting very still in his chair, Marley strangled a gasping breath. He’d definitely heard a young woman’s lilting voice, but Brenda wasn’t reacting at all. This time he knew what he heard. What were his options? Do a phantom’s bidding and potentially catch footage on camera? Or ignore her request and risk her wrath?
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‘Brenda,’ Marley said, adopting the most casual tone he could muster. ‘All the reports of seeing a woman in the window came from people who were standing beyond the gate. Why don’t you head outside with the handheld?’
She gave him an odd look, because it was an odd request. They always stuck together on investigations. ‘OK,’ she said, drawing out the word. Taking the handheld from him, she headed outside. When she arrived beyond the gate, he waved and she waved back before shooing him out of the window so he wouldn’t pollute the investigation.
‘All right,’ Marley said, watching for an apparition in the window. ‘I got rid of the woman. Your turn. Show yourself.’
The temperature in the room dropped a good 15 degrees, Marley figured. Suddenly, a T-shirt wasn’t enough. He could have done with a parka. He had a sense that if he looked over his shoulder, he might see something. For someone who wasn’t easily spooked, this entity scared the shit out of him. He didn’t want to turn. His feet were ice and frozen to the bare floors. When he shut his eyes tight, the voice asked, ‘Walter?’
Marley’s heart stopped beating. He was sure he’d die of fright as a rush of cold cut straight through his body. The scent of lavender filled the air. His eyelids flew open as if controlled by a force outside himself. There before him stood a stunning young woman, the picture of innocence even in a particularly low-cut white shift. Her brunette ringlets fell about her cleavage, dancing in the moonlight. When he looked into her eyes, he saw a life unlived.
She was real as anything he’d ever seen, but her presence infused his body with a sense of euphoria. Before he could open his mouth to speak, the girl lunged at him. For a split second, he was sure she’d take a vampiric bite out of his neck, but no. No, no. Her mouth landed square against his. She kissed like a seaman on leave. As her tongue raged against his, she jumped into his arms. Her weight was inexplicably real. Marley felt her legs around his waist and her chest against his as she attacked him with kisses. She was so fanatical in her approach, he could hardly stay on his feet. He tumbled, and his back landed against a very old quilt on the four-poster bed. A dust storm rose up, filling Marley’s nostrils. As he sneezed again and again, the girl straddled his body, hovering all above like a statue.
‘Lottie?’ he asked between sniffles. ‘Are you the woman people see on the widow’s walk?’
With a sneaking grin, she pounced, pinning his hands above his head. ‘Walter!’ she cooed, nuzzling her cool skin against his neck. Even as he shuddered, Marley realised the reaction she’d provoked in his pants. She was very alluring for a dead woman. ‘My Walter has finally returned to me!’
Perhaps stupidly, Marley spoke the first words to enter his head. ‘Walter’s been dead for hundreds of years. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Miss Stately, but so have you. You don’t live here any more.’
She gripped his wrists tighter yet, but said nothing. Her breasts heaved as though she were breathing. As he looked up past her slack jaw and into her wide eyes, he no longer felt like a scared child. Marley’s cock made the choice for him. With pretty Lottie all in white hovering over his supine form, he became a man with strong wants dominated by a woman with strong needs.
‘You are not Walter,’ Lottie said. Marley wasn’t sure if that was a question or a realisation. ‘And I’m not alive,’ she went on, gazing blankly into his face. She shook her head abruptly before looking at Marley with enlivened eyes. She dove at the side of his head. Pressing her lips to his ear, she growled, ‘Do you know how long I’ve spent waiting for that man to come home to me?’
Marley nodded. Her cold breath in his ear made him apprehensive, but the hot desire coursing through his veins countered that effect. He recognized the phantom’s demeanour, though he’d as yet only experienced it in women who were very much alive.
‘And do you know what I’ve been waiting for all this time?’ she went on, her tone almost pleading. ‘Not for him. Oh, no. Walter was nothing special, but he had what all men have – sex! That’s all I really wanted. After the wedding, my protecting parents could no longer keep me from it. I would have a husband to bed me, and I’d be whole at last.’
‘But in your journals you wrote that you loved Walter,’ Marley said, kicking himself for interrupting.
‘My father read those pages,’ she told him. ‘I wrote what he wanted to read. Now, if I must abandon this earth, I refuse to leave a virgin.’
The subsequent miracles were so simultaneous, Marley couldn’t have speculated which happened first. If he had to guess, he’d say Lottie raised him up from the bed and somehow caused it to strip itself of all coverings except a cotton sheet. All the while, his belt unbuckled, fly descended, and his socks fell off. In one swift motion, his clothes tore themselves from his body and he fell back into bed with the woman in white still on top of him.
Though her shape never changed, her mass seemed to increase as he realised how very naked he was underneath her sprawling skirts. When she set her calves across his legs, they were heavy as steel girders. ‘I don’t need any man in particular,’ she went on. ‘It doesn’t make much difference who you are. You have the part I desire, and it seems in good working order. Nothing else concerns me.’ She held him down against the bed, leaning forward until her lovely breasts tumbled out of her top. When she straightened up a touch, her shift fell off her shoulders until the top rested around her waist. ‘You are my salvation! Will you give me your love and set me free from this world?’
‘Yeah,’ he said with an eager nod. ‘Sure. OK.’ She was half naked and pinning him to the bed. How could he resist?
When she bent toward him, he expected another kiss. Instead, Lottie shoved a breast in his face. Like a child keen for a meal, he chased her pink nipple with his tongue. Her flesh was cool when he caught it in his mouth, but Marley would not be dissuaded by temperature alone. There was also the camera.
‘Why did you stop?’ Lottie demanded as he let her breast fall from his mouth.
Lottie came from a different era. She’d have no idea the significance of recording devices. What use in telling her? His only apprehension was in knowing Brenda would see all this unless he got to it first. Would she care? No. No, she’d be over the moon. It would be the first ghost-fuck caught on video. They’d be famous. They’d finally get that coveted TV contract, maybe even a movie deal. If people were going to see him get it on with a spirit woman, the least he could do was make it enthralling.
‘You want a roll with a real man? Well, today’s your lucky day, Lottie, because I’ve got a massive erection with your name on it.’ Glancing at the camera, he tried to roll her on her back, but the effort was useless. She rested on him like a seductive bag of hammers.
‘Is that so?’ she giggled, somehow pulling up her skirts without releasing his wrists. ‘Look down. Do you find me attractive?’
‘Attractive?’ His gaze travelled the length of her body, from her dark hair and rosebud lips, across breasts like the fruit of a nubile tree, and past the skirts frock hiked by mystical means up around her belly. ‘Gorgeous!’ Below the glowing white fabric, her pussy perched close above his straining cock. As he watched, his erection seemed to pulse and grow to meet the beautiful dark-haired pussy resting so near to him he could feel its cool breath against his cock head.
She seemed to move in slow motion as she fell on his prick. The distinct wetness of her pussy lips made him surge, but even as he tried to arch his back and thrust up into her, she held him down flat. When he was all inside her, he released his anxieties as a great moan. Lottie giggled at his reaction. She growled as she leaned in to kiss him. Though he couldn’t watch her pussy devouring his cock, her tongue was so soft and strong against his he could hardly complain. Her kisses consumed him. Her deep lunges on his cock swallowed him whole. Mouth and cunt were inescapably cool and wet.
Her breasts swung low. Nipples grazed nipples as she rode him like the bold girls of her time who refused to journey side saddle. Though he tried his damnedest
to plough her from below, Marley found himself inexplicably held to the mattress. The weight on him went far beyond that of Lottie’s lean body. And, technically, as a phantom she shouldn’t have any weight to her at all. Mysteries never ceased in his line of work, and his viewers could certainly look forward to a good show.
Lottie’s large breasts swung and bounced as she sat straight up. Though she seemed to have released his wrists, he still couldn’t move them. They were stuck high above his head. As she bounded on his body, Lottie giggled and groaned like any good porn star. Where did girls get their sexual education in her day? Marley wondered. He’d have to do some research.
Reaching one hand down to her pussy, she pressed her fingers against her mound and rubbed. With the other hand, she pinched her nipples until she was screaming with delight. The sight of her masturbatory antics coupled with the rage against his frozen body caused the muscles in Marley’s legs to tense. His thighs shook. His balls quaked. When Lottie lifted a big breast to her mouth and gave it a smooth lick, he couldn’t hold back. He filled the spectre with come.
Time froze along with Marley’s muscles. He couldn’t bring himself to look away as an expression of pure bliss settled like a death mask on Lottie’s face. Her pale skin grew white as her shift until everything scintillated all around her body. His body drew second-hand pleasure from hers. Sparks of joy seemed to burn his skin with ecstasy as her core became pure, glowing energy. The brilliant whiteness expanded until it filled the room. He heard Lottie’s voice speak the words, ‘Thank you’ as she disappeared.
Quick as she came, the spirit who’d inhabited this room for so many years was gone. The space was dark but for moonlight and the power light on the camera across the room. In disbelief, Marley looked down his supine body to see he was indeed naked. When he tried to move his arms, his muscles seized and trembled, and finally cooperated.
‘Marley,’ a familiar voice cried. He heard loud thumps on the stairs and he struggled to dress before Brenda arrived. No luck. When she joined him on the widow’s walk, he had his underwear on, but nothing else. She stared at him. Just stared. ‘What’s going on up here? I heard screaming. I saw a light.’
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