The TV in the corner switched programs and the news jingle caught my attention. We sat watching it, not really paying much attention to most of the boring news that was a daily occurrence. 6:55pm came around and the news reporter received a piece of paper by one of the background staff.
“News just in. A couple in Bradford have been found dead this evening in their flat. Cause of death appears to be accidental, via carbon monoxide poisoning…..” The rest of the report faded from my ears. They found them at last. And an accident. Not murder. Good.
Michael was still listening intently to the news broadcast; Steve was busy making dinner of some sorts in the kitchen. I refocused.
“Anyone with any information, please call in on the local police hotline shown at the bottom of the screen. Police have contacted the immediate family of both persons. Although it appears that this was a tragic accident, police are not ruling out suspicious activity until full investigations have been fulfilled.”
The news reporter then continued with the remaining news and passed over to the weather forecast for the remainder of the evening and the upcoming week. The laptop screen changed, and I refreshed the page.
A new post by Panda.
“7:30pm. Just had the police in my flat asking about if I had heard or seen anything suspicious last night. I told them I wasn’t in because of the constant banging noises they were making and I went to sleep at a friends’. I then had to tell them how long this had been going on for. I told them most of it, I think. Seems something bad HAS happened to them. What a shame!”
“Update. The building is being evacuated due to the release of carbon monoxide which apparently killed my neighbours. I must go, the fire brigade men are here and not looking amused as I type this. Catch up with you all later!”
On that note, Steve shouted for Michael to come for dinner. I decided a good long rest was needed before I did anything else. Tomorrow would be a new day, but right now, I felt like lying low for a while.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next day came upon us, slow and languid; a mist hung in the air, and it twinkled on the webs of spiders, droplets of dew delicately hanging on. Gazing out the window of an early morning was one of my daily rituals, or at least it was when I was alive. Michael appeared in the doorway, silent.
“Morning Sharon. What are your plans today?”
I looked at him. He was dressed, ready for work. “I need to research some more noisy neighbours before I start haunting anyone else.”
“Ok. You have a good day, and be careful!” I nodded at him as he left the house.
Steve was still asleep upstairs. Guess he doesn’t work today. I logged in to the laptop, and began my search. The forum appeared to have been busy overnight, with other posters replying to those I had helped, asking questions, wishing them luck.
Maybe I should post on mine, I wondered. Searching for my post, I hit the reply button and began to type.
“Hello, fellow neighbours from hell victims,
I am afraid I have some good news and bad news here. I am unsure as to how to explain it, but I will try as best as I can. Many of you will not believe me, but here goes.
Three months ago, was my final post about being made redundant. Alas, this was also my last day of life on this world. Please do not stop reading, thinking this is BS. Just hear me out (or read me out). I was on my last day at work and they had thrown me and others a leaving party at the office. We got very drunk and so I had to walk home late. It was dark, and ultimately, I was set upon by 3 thugs. They dragged me home and raped and murdered me. My real name is Sharon Hartman, you may have heard of me on the news, or in the papers. However, the next thing I knew I was standing over my body. I’m dead, yes, but I can still manipulate objects, which is how I can type this reply now.
This is not a hoax. I have not taken over this person’s account.
I know everyone who reads this will think of it as a sick joke, but it is true. I have been busy since then, and I will prove it to those I have helped so far. I have these new powers to use, which I can use to benefit us all here. I have since helped Torment in causing myself to create an EMP over the culprit to his low frequency noise, I have haunted Panda’s next door neighbours, and killed the bully and bitch below by allowing the carbon monoxide to leak from the gas appliance. I have helped Megs with her neighbour, I scared the woman and kids by making one of her dresses float above them in their bed. I told them to behave or they would all die. This is the reason she apologised to you through the wall.
Lastly, I got my own back on my own neighbours. I tortured them so much that many of them are now in a mental hospital, unable to get their thundering bass music out of their heads.
What I have done, may seem extreme, but I believe this is what I have been left on this world to do. Most of you still won’t believe I am truly dead, and that this is still a hoax. I can prove to you still, if you would like me to visit you, you are all only a short journey for me as I can travel along the broadband lines at great speed.
Please don’t judge me for what I have done. This is justice. This is what they deserved, and the peace you all gained from my actions is on my head, no one else’s. There are other powers at work on this side and will be watching my actions. If I go too far, I will be stopped by them. So far, they have not. Therefore I believe that what I am doing is right and just.
My own killers have already been arrested and are currently in jail serving their time. So my reason being here is not to get revenge on them. I believe it is to get justice for all of us here that cannot get help from those who SHOULD be helping.
If you do not believe me, ask me to prove it to you and I shall.
Keep your chins up, for there is justice out there, through me.
Sharon Hartman (recently deceased)”
As I read back through my message, I knew that if I posted it, I would get a lot of replies to say it’s a sick joke. But what else could I do? I didn’t know what else to write. Should I hit the reply button or delete it? My finger hovered over the button to post it. Hell what can they do if they think it’s a hoax? I suppose they could ban me, but then the real Sharon would not get her account back.
My mind made up I hit the reply button. My message appeared and the deed was done. I wanted to see how the others would react to my post. As I waited for any replies I searched through the next lot of noisy neighbour victims.
One stood out to me after a few pages of scrolling. This person had multiple posts, and her name was Dora. She was living next to a family who were originally from Turkey. They rarely spoke English, according to her posts. And they never spoke quietly, they always had to shout, argue, and the strangest thing was she always had to put up with them having something burning in the back garden, no matter what the weather was doing.
In the end the Environmental Health told them they could not use the BBQ to burn old painted wood. The old paint was creating fumes from their fire, and giving her headaches. The people were even cooking food over this wood, so goodness knows what it was doing to them. Although now, it appears the effects are beginning to show.
The man of the house stands by his back door every morning at 4am coughing his guts up. No doubt caused by the paint fumes he was burning but also the amount he smokes in general. Every day he does this, without fail and wakes Dora up, as her bedroom as over her own back garden.
She had been told that the noise was normal living noise by the council and they could do nothing about it. How can it be normal living noise, when no matter where you go in your house, or to the far end of the garden whilst their windows and doors are shut, you can still hear them clearly shouting and screaming at one another?
Yet another brush off by the council. Dora also states that she knows the man is on Disability benefits because apparently he can’t walk far. Yet she sees him walking just fine around his garden, and going to and from the house. Benefit fraud maybe?
Anyway, this has been going on for a couple of years. Th
eir noise is horrendous, and she no longer gets peace and quiet. Why should she have to put up with this crap? I nodded to myself. I knew who was next on my list.
Opening the main search engine I searched online for Turkish superstitions and beliefs. I had to find out what they most believed in to make my hauntings work. The searches popped up within a couple of seconds, and I clicked on the top link. Reading through the page, I took note that Turkish society did not believe in ‘ghosts’ as such but instead referred to them as ‘Cin’ (pronounced Gin). Similar to a ghost, they are believed to be a being on earth that we cannot see or hear. Any relation with a Cin is considered to be harmful because of their energy levels, but Cin’s can apparently be both good and bad. They were also thought to be made of fire, and that certain people can be on the same plane or frequency as a Cin and so can communicate with them. I read further along. Cin’s are the most feared beings, and most will take them seriously.
“Interesting,” I mused. “Gives me some idea of how to combat this next lot of imbeciles I suppose.”
Slipping inside the laptop again, I found the broadband line I needed and made my way to my destination.
Turkish Disasters
The incessant screaming and shouting was almost too much for me when I appeared at the other end. The home I was in was decorated with a flock feature wall, with light creams and coloured accents around the room, in the cushions, the curtains, all very tasteful. I hated the fact that inconsiderate neighbours took away the victims enjoyment of their own homes. That we, the victims had to live our lives around theirs, and if we ever did anything to annoy them, then we would be accountable by the authorities, the abusers never were.
I shook my head, disgusted and headed straight through the adjoining wall into the neighbours’ house.
What hit me first was the smell and the colours. To call it garish didn’t quite cut it. It was horrible. At least to my eyes it was. I found the couple shouting at each other in Turkish in the kitchen. The garden was reached by the back door which was at the other end of the room. I had no clue what they were arguing about, but this had to stop. Normal living noises? Over my live body! I shuddered and tried to picture myself engulfed by flames.
The air around me grew warm as I manifested the Ifrit persona. The couple before me both glanced in my direction as I came into focus. They screamed as I pointed at them with a fiery claw. I growled, steam rising from my mouth and nose.
“Cursed are you both for your behaviour. You will be punished for the abuse you have caused to your family and neighbours. Heed my words mortals, for if you do not change, I will return!” With a flourish I bellowed a scream at them, fire and all and vanished before them. They both stood there stunned for a moment, and then started screaming and shouting at each other again. I had no idea what they were shouting about, but my best guess was about me. I made my voice heard again. “SILENCE MORTALS! You have been warned!!”
I realised that as I managed to speak to these people that I should be able to speak with Steve, even if he couldn’t see me. I would try it, I decided at some point. It was only fair that I should be able to communicate with both him and Michael. The only issue with it was, that the more I had to concentrate on doing things, the more drained I became. Whereas with Michael, it was like I didn’t have to try at all. He could just see me. I thought about the Cin creatures that the Turkish culture believed in, and recalled them mentioning people being on the same frequency. Maybe that is similar to what Michael has with me then? I wonder if he sees other dead people? I mused. I would have to ask him later too!
I left the couple who now had become silent on my command and walked through the adjoining wall to the neighbours’ house. The lady was standing stock still in the middle of her living area, and by the looks of her, she was listening to what was happening. Her partner, a large male spoke behind her.
“What the hell is going on next door? Did you hear that other voice Karen?”
“I did. What do you think it was?”
“Don’t you mean who?”
Karen shook her head slowly. “No. Whatever just told them to be silent did not sound normal. Check the windows, see if anything leaves the house, I’ll check the back.”
Karen and her other half went to a window each, front and back and were peering through, waiting.
Maybe I should show them what their neighbours just had in their kitchen? I don’t need to scare them but give them a fleeting glimpse.
I headed back into next doors house, and gathering what strength I had left shimmered back into the Ifrit, fire form. The couple whom I had cursed had disappeared to another room, and were for once, being quiet watching their TV. I headed through the front door making my form appear in minute flashes. They wouldn’t be able to quite figure me out, but would know then, that something had been in their neighbours’ house. Vanishing again, I headed back indoors and to the PC. I felt tired. Manifesting myself into another form and making me heard was draining beyond belief. But at least it seemed to have worked. I could only wait and see. Jumping inside the PC I found my line home and relaxed as the current did the work for me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Appearing at the other end, I hopped out of the laptop and was welcomed by Michael, sitting watching the telly.
“Hey Sharon! How’s things going? All good on the haunting front?” he asked.
I flopped down on the other sofa, and closed my eyes. “This whole vigilante, haunting thing is so tiring!” I sighed. Michael was watching me, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. “There’s just so much I seem to be able to do, but the more I do stuff, the more tired I become. I mean, I became a creature made of fire today, known as an Ifrit to scare somebodies neighbours into being more considerate.”
“Why an Ifrit?” Michael asked. “What was wrong with just a regular haunting?”
I explained that these particular neighbours from hell were Turkish and that in their culture, they do not believe in ghosts as such, but Cin. I told him about how some people in their society believed they could speak and commune with the Cin because they were on the same frequency. “I wonder if that is why you can talk to me and see me?” I pointed out. “Maybe their Cin, Is similar to our Daemon’s; me?”
“It’s possible I guess,” Michael stated. “After all, why not, seems anything is possible right now, I mean I’m talking to you, and you’re dead.”
“Yes, thank you for reminding me!” I jibed. “Oh, I know what I wanted to ask you. Have you ever seen dead people before, or is it just me?”
Michael went quiet for a moment. “Er, well, I’m not totally sure to be honest. Ever since I went a bit crazy and had to take these meds, well, let’s just say they had some visual side effects.” I nodded. “I guess I have trouble knowing what’s real and what isn’t sometimes. But it’s true, I have spoken with other people before that were not actually here. Whether they were ghosts or not though, I’ve no idea. I didn’t hang around long enough to find out. They freaked me out loads at first.”
I raised my eyebrows. “So they don’t anymore?” I asked, wanting him to continue.
Michael shook his head. “Nah, not really. After all, since I met Steve he has kept me pretty sane. Helped me when I didn’t know what I was doing, or who I was talking to if anyone. But now I think about it, some of those invisible people could have well been dead. What do you think?”
“I think anything right now is possible, like you said. After all, you can see and talk to me. How rare is that?”
Michael laughed. “Very true. Makes you wonder what else might be out there.”
“I wouldn’t say no to much now! Better start making contingency plans for everything, including zombie invasions.”
“Hah, yeah, though if they are the fast moving ones, then we’re all screwed. I’d shoot myself in the head if that ever happened. Slow zombies are fine, but those freaky ass fast ones, hell no.”
Steve appeared at that moment in the doorway. “Don’t tell me zombie
s are real too now!” He smiled and dumped his backpack In the hallway before setting himself down where I was sat. He shivered. “Sorry Sharon.” He shifted over to the warmer side. “At least I assume that’s you.”
I guessed now was the time to test out my speaking ability on Steve. I concentrated.
“Yes Steve that was me.”
Steve’s head whipped round at my voice. “Did I just hear you speak? Michael did you hear that?” Michael nodded.
“Yeah, that was Sharon.” Michael replied for me. “Seems that speaking aloud to you though takes her a lot of focus.” Michael looked at me, concerned. “Are you ok to be doing that Sharon? Don’t feel like you have to talk for us all to hear. I can easily relay what you say if it’s too much.”
Smiling at Michael, I spoke to them both. “Yes, it does take a lot of focus for my voice to carry into the living plane. I wanted to try it as I have been able to speak to the noisy neighbours with it for the past few days, and I thought that if it was only Steve here, I would have some way of speaking with you if Michael was out.” I shuddered. “I must rest again. This is taking a lot out of me.”
“Don’t worry yourself about me, Sharon.” Steve replied. “If you can’t speak to me just let me know you’re here by flickering the lights or something. Remember you don’t know what will happen if you drain yourself completely again. You might not come back.”
All Hope Lost Page 8