Ghostly Attachments (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  Mia drew upon the island power, her hate, and her courage and managed once again to disengage from this madman. She spat fire at him, burning his soft underbelly where he displayed an engorged reproductive organ that was meant to impale her. She watched as he spun away to cool himself from the fire. Mia sent out an SOS, warning all that the shit had hit the fan.

  ~

  Gerald stared with frustration at the people as they cowered together and refused to move. The mercenaries prodded them, and they fell to their knees, spewing gibberish. Angelo relayed Mia’s SOS, and the pressure to move these people almost unnerved the normally calm facilitator.

  Still a sparrow, Bev flew into the room and bonded with Gerald’s mind, asking, “What the fuck is the hold up?”

  “They are too frightened to move. This monster has tortured them into this blind compliance, but compliance only to him.”

  “What in god’s name are… That’s it.” Bev flew as fast as her OOBed body could take her. She returned to her corporal form. Rising quickly she felt dizzy but managed to get Angelo’s attention. “You need to lead them out.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You need to become the angel, or nephilim, or whatever you are, and present this image to those people in there.”

  “I am not a neph… For god’s sake are you crazy. madam?”

  “Can’t you pretend?”

  “Impersonate a deity?” Angelo rubbed his jaw, thinking. “No. Although, I’ve always wanted to be an actor. What would these people follow? Perhaps a saint? Lead the way, Beverly, I will do my best.”

  ~

  Mia felt a surge of power as she made her way to the spot she and the others had landed at during Sabine’s rescue. Could she draw enough power while keeping Sire from doing the same? She absorbed the orange essence of the Earth’s volcanic core, and as it nourished her, she changed. She became an eagle and moved higher in the sky. She watched as Sire left his dragon persona and followed her as a condor.

  Mia laughed at the approaching bird. His weighty wings made him clumsy in the air. This was a case of too big was too much. Mia dove at him, turning her body in time to grip her talons into Sire’s eyes. Mia locked into the heavy bird’s orbs. Sire screamed, experiencing a pain that only Mia at her most powerful could cause. The two spun towards the ground.

  Just before they hit the beach, Sire turned their bodies over and Mia hit first. The shock of the impact caused her to become Mia again. Cargo-panted, hoodie-wearing Mia. She rolled away from Sire as he raised himself into his cloaked form. She misjudged her direction and rolled into the wet sand by the water’s edge. She felt the power drain away from her, and she knew she was in trouble. There would be no Murphy to rescue her this time. Death in a bi-located state, she doubted she would even ascend. She prayed that somehow she would see the farmer again.

  Sire smiled and took a moment to regain some power before striding over to her. “You are dead, you filth, you imposter! I will absorb your power and use your corporal body to farm maggots.”

  ~

  Gerald tried one more time to have his men herd the people towards the door. He knew Mia was in danger, and he needed to get help to her. But first the innocents must be saved. The plan was falling apart, and he knew they would not get a second chance. All the favors in the world would not stop this monster from exacting revenge on these trapped people.

  There was a commotion at the door as Bev burst through shouting, “He has come, he has come!”

  Gerald looked in disbelief as Angelo strode in barefoot sans suit coat, his white pressed shirt, opened at the chest, flowing behind him. He spoke in a rich Italian accent, “My people, come to me. I have come to save you.”

  A woman crossed herself and said in a hushed Hungarian accent, “Saint Stephen.”

  The word spread quickly that Saint Stephen had come to take them to safety. Overwhelmed, some of the captives dropped to their knees.

  Angelo, still in character, told them to rise up and follow him to the boats that would take him to freedom. Gerald watched the people get to their feet and follow, at a discrete distance, their patron saint.

  He prayed that Mia would remain strong for a little longer. Just long enough for the procession of Saint Stephen to make it to the shore and onto the Coast Guard vessels.

  ~

  The man waited until Sire’s back was turned, stealthily walking out from the willow barrier. He looked at the arrogant body lying there and over at the beach where the traveler had just gained advantage over the young woman. He walked over and picked up a piece of driftwood and stepped on it, cracking it in two. With the larger end he knelt over the fallen body of Sire, and with all his might drove the wood into his chest.

  Mia watched as Sire dissolved before her. She lifted her head and scanned the beach, and no other persona presented itself. She crawled away from the water’s edge, and as the island nourished her, she got to her feet and walked over to where she had left her body.

  A pale, thin man knelt on the ground beside her combatant’s corporal form. Mia moved quickly into her body and raised her head and stared over at the man. “Who are you?”

  “I am two. I am Komal, and I am this man,” Komal spoke through the possessed male. His tongue was slow and deliberate.

  “Is he gone?” Mia said, trying to sit up. “Is Sire gone?”

  Komal moved his host’s head as to listen before saying, “I don’t know. His body is gone, but he could still be here.”

  Mia sat up, and as she tried to rise, Komal moved over and helped her. She wavered a bit as she gained a foothold on the sandy ground. “Thank you,” she said as she adjusted the fabric the best as she could over her nakedness.

  Komal took off his shirt and handed it to her. Mia gratefully accepted the blood-spattered homespun garment and pulled it around her buttoning it. “Not exactly ready for the Ritz, but I think I can make it by those sailors unmolested now.”

  He looked at her strangely and asked, “Can you take this body to the others?”

  “Yes. You’re not coming?” she questioned him.

  “Not just yet, I have to be sure. I will stay behind,” Komal informed her.

  Mia watched as Komal left the man’s body. She reached out a hand to steady the man as he returned to his senses. “Are you alright?”

  The man looked at her in alarm. He touched his bare chest and pointed to her. “Shirt.”

  “You gallantly gave me your shirt. Let’s go and see if we can find the others, shall we?” Mia said, holding out her hand. “My name is Mia, and everything is going to be okay. No more Sire.”

  At the sound of his name the man cowered.

  Mia cooed, “Now, now, Sire is gone. He can’t hurt you or yours anymore. No more work. Come with me.”

  The man looked around him as if expecting a trick of some kind. He recoiled as he saw the bloody corpse of his tormentor. Sire’s life’s blood seeping into the sandy ground. He slowly reached out his hand, and Mia grasped it in hers. She slowly guided the man towards where the boats were supposed to make land.

  They had just rounded the south end of the isle when a spectacle stopped Mia in her tracks. There before her was Angelo looking like an Adonis on a romance novel’s cover, leading a long line of people towards the waiting boats. Mia’s charge left her arm and joined the group. She stood back and shook her head in disbelief.

  Bev joined her. Mia looked at her and asked “Saint Michael?”

  “No. Saint Stephen,” Bev corrected.

  “How did you know?”

  “We didn’t. I just thought he should walk in all godlike, and they picked Saint Stephen.”

  Mia nodded saying, “Stranger things have happened.”

  “Speaking of which, I expect your attendance here speaks of success. Do we have Bakersfield neutralized?” Bev inquired.

  “Yes and no,” Mia said, pulling off the blonde hairpiece. “Neutralized as his dead body lies on the other side of the island,” she said quietly.
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br />   “You killed him?” Bev asked, noticing for the first time the rust spatters on the shirt covering Mia’s nakedness.

  “No, Komal.”

  “Really, how? And why hasn’t he done this before now?” she complained.

  “I’ll explain it to you after I talk to Gerald. Right now I need a shower, and if I ever let you convince me to go anywhere sandy without underpants again, lock me up.”

  “A bit abrasive,” Bev said, remembering a spring break in her youth.

  “That is an understatement,” Mia said walking away.

  “Now what was the name of that boy - or was it boys?” Bev said to herself, indulging in a past memory. She was still wearing a wicked smile when Gerald came to find her.

  “Time to go, my sweet,” Gerald said, bemused by his lady love’s expression.

  “Is all okay?”

  “Father Santos is hearing the confession of the man Mia said Komal possessed. He thinks he killed Bakersfield. I don’t know which is worse, the knowledge that you killed your tormentor or that you were possessed?”

  “Ah, worthy of an intellectual discussion,” Bev baited.

  “Not here and not now. I am leaving a team here to hold the island. There are treasures here, and Mia is not certain Bakersfield’s spirit isn’t still active. With all this ley line power, she worries he will still be a threat. Komal is going to stay and wait until he is sure every essence of this man is gone. At that time he asks us to return and perform an ascension ceremony.”

  “Do we have an ascension ceremony?” Bev asked as she took Gerald’s arm.

  He carefully led her over the sand towards the last launch before responding. “No. But I’m sure Father Santos and Angelo can come up with something by then.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Beth sat across from Marjorie going over a list of family heirlooms that Max had given her and her husband over the years. They were at Susan’s house. The twins were spending time with Marjorie’s parents in Wisconsin. Her mother insisted that until Marjorie’s home was finished being remodeled that the boys would be in harm’s way with all the drywall dust and other remodeling activities.

  “I couldn’t tell her that my house was haunted. My folks don’t believe in such things. I couldn’t say my marriage is over, they don’t believe in divorce, so here I am telling lies and avoiding confrontation,” she explained to Beth who seemed to have a good ear and a trustworthy face.

  “In my experience, most people don’t want to believe in anything that shakes their core beliefs. Every day I’m running into things that I, with my open mind, find impossible,” Beth commented.

  Susan brought two fresh mugs of coffee to the table where the women were checking off a list. Green checks for antiques that were still at the house, red for missing things, and blue for items Bev could verify as casualties of the haunting. Susan picked up the list and pointed to one item checked in red. “This shaving brush, maybe the pearl handled straight razor too. I think Mark picked it up when we were getting supplies for George and Marjorie. It’s not missing.”

  “Whose was it before George got it?” Beth asked, hiding her excitement.

  “Not from my side of the family,” Marjorie volunteered. “Perhaps Max will know.”

  “I’ll give him a call,” Marjorie promised. “Is there anything else, Beth?”

  “We would like to get you, George, Max, Mark, and Susan together soon at the house. We are bringing in a specialist that we hope will be able to cross over Ermut, Garrit, and perhaps Anneliese. There is unfinished business that needs to be addressed. Marjorie, if George has the shaving brush or anything from Klaus Hofmann with him, have him bring it to the ceremony.”

  “Uncle Klaus? You think he has something to do with the haunting?” Marjorie asked Beth.

  Beth sighed, not wanting to show her hand too soon. She looked at the concern in these women’s eyes and relented. “We think that Klaus caused some hurt that has to be addressed.”

  “He’s dead and buried. You saw his grave,” Susan pointed out.

  “Between you two and me, we don’t think Grandma or the twins slapped your little boys. The duelists could have, but I doubt it. We have to look to someone that had reason to hate twin boys, and it all points to Klaus.”

  Susan pushed back her chair and shook her head.

  Marjorie stared off into space a moment before speaking, “It isn’t bad enough that my marriage is over, but my house is haunted, and not just by a granny rocking in a chair. I can even accept some poor lost souls are confused and not moving on. But to hear that Klaus Hofmann has the audacity to come back from the grave and hurt my babies, well this is too much! I want him out. I want him destroyed.”

  “What if it means that we have to perform an exorcism?”

  “Do it. Just promise me to not leave until all threats to my family are gone.”

  Beth pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I promise that we will try. I am going to set this up. We need every item that was in the house returned to it. We don’t know why your home was the catalyst for giving these ghostly attachments power or why they chose now to move out of these items and haunt you, but we can help you by crossing a few of them over.”

  The three women looked at each other. Susan pulled a forced smile. And Beth got up from the table.

  Marjorie grabbed her hand. “Thank you. Thank you for caring. I don’t care if you film every piece of dirty laundry and shake every skeleton this family has. Burn down the house if you have to. Please do it. Do it for my Maxie and Georgie. I want them to have a future. I want them to be safe.”

  Beth nodded. She left the house with heavy feet. For maybe the first time since the hollow, Beth understood that her job was more than a lark or something to do when she was procrastinating on writing her Doctoral dissertation. This was helping people. People who had no other recourse but to put their trust in a rag tag group of paranormal researchers.

  ~

  Burt shut his phone after conversing with Beth. He walked back into Mia’s house, careful not to disturb the salt line she had carefully spread over the threshold. Mia was still sleeping. He arrived home after she did, and he found her comatose but snoring in the bed they shared. He pulled the comforter over her bruised arms and noticed a few discolorations along her jawline. He would be patient and not ask about them. Mia was upfront and would tell him everything eventually. He decided to camp out on the sofa in order to not disturb his exhausted girlfriend.

  Mia’s value to the team was immense, but her gifts put her in danger. He was torn between being her boss and her lover. He wanted to protect her but also wanted results. Ghost hunting was his career. He owed it to his team to bring about a satisfactory conclusion to their investigations and get it on film. Sometimes it meant pushing Mia into doing things she didn’t want to do. She was difficult and didn’t seem to care how it looked when she ignored him and did things her own way. This brought a tension between them and hilarity to members of the group.

  Sure Mike was a prima donna, but when he and Burt started off together they were on equal footing, two alpha males struggling to make a partnership work. Mia on the other hand was born with a gift and was a diva at times. She just didn’t care how it looked to others when she walked over him and took the reins out of his inexperienced hands. It looked to Burt like he would need to have a heart to heart with her soon before another conflict rose between them.

  Mia, unaware of any animosity, rose from bed and staggered into the bathroom. She refused to look in the mirror until she had another shower - this would make three - to wash sand and Sire off her body and soul. She smelled coffee brewing and smiled. Burt was home. She looked forward to snuggling with him while they caught up on what had happened since the two parted.

  ~

  Ted was putting together a highlight video while keeping an eye on the Hofmann residence when Beth arrived. She noticed the hastily written note in Ted’s hand on the trailer door that warned that Mike was sleeping,
and death to any that disturbed his highness. She laughed quietly and walked into the back yard.

  “Hello, Bethy, I see you you’re back from your hen party,” Ted said smiling.

  He was sucking on the end of a red liquorish whip that drooped limply from his mouth. His hat was on backwards and his face was sporting a two days growth of beard. She suspected this was day four for his t-shirt. She looked at him and smiled.

  “Are you flirting with me?” he said and winked before returning to his editing.

  Beth sighed. He was impossible sometimes. “Anything new happening?”

  “No, all seems pretty quiet. Mike thinks Grandma is enjoying her new e-book, and the twins have not made any trouble. I think they like the Legos and Lincoln logs. We have recorded some sporadic laughter from the room.”

  “Burt says Mia made it back safe from her mysterious mission. He will press her into getting a commitment from Father Santos. I’m hoping to get everyone together tomorrow night.”

  “The big finish,” Ted commented, not turning around. “I have some great footage of the drywall bubbles before they burst. You wanna see?”

  Beth drew a chair over, and Ted pulled up the section of video.

  He tapped the screen explaining, “I intermingled the stationary camera with what I rescued from Big Bertha. Tell me what you think?”

  Beth watched the series and commented on the Hollywood quality of the editing. Ted seemed really pleased with this and offered her a Red Vine from his coveted stash. She accepted it.

  “Are we set for operation Gray Heads?” he asked.

  “Um, beg your pardon?” she asked confused.

  “The delivering of the gun stash with the little gray divas from across the street?”