by Terence West
Dawn nodded, "Certainly. We believe these murders were part of an occult ritual. All their hearts, with the exception of the young boy's, were removed and taken from the scene."
"Sounds horrific," Rivers commented in a completely inappropriate voice. "Do you know what the ritual is?"
"As yet, we are unsure," she said, omitting details, "but we hope to find out tonight, Rivers."
"Nick," Rivers said slowly, "what interested you in this case?"
Bishop smiled. "I'm just tagging along with my partners." He knew that wasn't the answer Rivers wanted, and that was exactly why he gave it. "Seriously though, this is an incredible chance to study supernatural phenomenon."
"Very good," said a slightly perturbed Rivers. "Are we ready to head upstairs?"
Dawn nodded.
"I'll let you two take the lead, and guide us through the house," Rivers said almost cowardly.
"Okay," Dawn said directly to the camera, "if you'll accompany us upstairs, we'll begin the investigation."
****
"Keep a wide angle on Dawn and Bishop," Chloe whispered into her mic while watching the third monitor. "If anything should rear its ugly head, we want to catch it on tape."
Montoya had taken up a position directly behind Chloe in the booth. She was overseeing the operation, but didn't claim to understand it. Clasping her hands behind her back, she watched the third monitor with a worried feeling in the pit of her stomach. This isn't good, was her only thought. Leaning forward, she pressed her hands to the back of Chloe's chair. "You can communicate directly with the crew?"
Chloe nodded while keeping her vision trained on the three monitors. "They all have a small ear bud they can hear my commands on. If I see something on the monitor they don't, I can alert them immediately."
Montoya let out a long sigh. "Doesn't this make you feel powerless? I mean, looking at these monitors, you could watch the entire crew die and you wouldn't be able to help them."
"That part of the job just comes with the territory," Chloe replied. "They're on their own. I can tell them what I want to see, but it's up to them to follow through."
"I hate this," Montoya said as she stood up.
****
Dawn stood at the base of the staircase staring up into the darkness. She had no desire to go up there, let alone take a television crew with her. She felt Bishop standing just behind her and took the first step. Lifting the Air Ion Counter, she slowly made her way up the stairs. Her pulse was racing. "What do you have on the EMF Meter, Bishop?"
Bishop tapped the square plastic housing of the needle. It was dancing wildly back and forth; jumping from zero to maximum, then back again. "Either this thing is shot, or we've got a reading off the scale."
"Keep an eye on it," Dawn said, trying to sound as professional as possible.
The silence was deafening. Outside, they could hear Katrina's winds pounding against the side of the house. It, and the fact their lives were in danger, was making them all feel uncomfortable.
Rivers had fallen back to the rear of the group behind Carrie and had unconsciously pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. Lighting it, he took a long drag and exhaled slowly. He kept glancing nervously behind him. He didn't want to be in the lead, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be bringing up the rear either.
Carrie was slowly unwinding the thick, black cable as they made their way toward the second floor. Their remote unit had been damaged earlier necessitating the use of snake cable to the director's booth. Her slender fingers were working over the cable slowly so as not to let out too much, but just enough to keep Trent unhindered. She knew she had enough cable to run over this entire house. She hoped she wouldn't have to. Acid was churning in her stomach as it ate away at her lining. She needed an antacid tablet. Glancing down at her watch, she saw there was well over a half an hour left in the broadcast and muttered several profanities under her breath.
Jackson pressed one of his hands against the black headphones and listened to the ambient noises of the house. He could hear the storm howling outside and every creaking step the group took up the stairs. Someone was even scraping his or her feet. He wasn't sure whom. Reaching down to the DAT recorder slung over his shoulder, he inched the volume knob forward. He wasn't familiar with all the workings of Chris’ equipment, but he was trying to learn fast. Damn fast.
Bishop pulled his flashlight from his back pocket and gripped it tightly in his sweaty palm. Aim for the eyes, he reminded himself. Anything else, and it's your ass. He clicked on the light and focused it at the top of the stairs. There was only emptiness there, to his relief. He had half expected all the phantoms to be standing there with evil grins on their faces just waiting to kill the entire crew. He glanced down at his EMF Meter. The needle was now firmly buried. "Dawn…"
"Yeah, Bish," she acknowledged quietly.
"I think we're in trouble."
Dawn stopped and turned to face her partner. "What is it?"
Bishop lifted the EMF Meter so Dawn could read the display. "I've never seen a constant reading this high before."
"Neither have I," Dawn said quietly. She looked down to address the camera. "We just had a spike on the Electromagnetic Field Meter. From our research, we know ghosts generate large electromagnetic fields, so we can read them with this device. It's like following a ghost's footsteps," she added. "Neither Nick or myself have ever seen a reading this high before."
"What does that mean?" Rivers asked from the rear.
"It could mean one of two things. Either we're sensing that ghosts were here recently, or that they are here right now."
The crew shuddered in unison.
Dawn could sense their unease, but knew she needed to continue. Cane was here… somewhere. "We'll continue upstairs."
A pool of red fluid began to gather on the roof above the crew.
Dawn took the last step to the second floor and stopped dead in her tracks. There was a wide central hall with doors on each side, but at the end, a large hole had been carved into the wall. It looked like an optical illusion. She could see a portion of the window still remaining, so the storm was visible through it, yet the hole was completely dark and seemed to stretch on forever. "Bishop, take a look at that."
"Wow," he breathed. "That's incredible."
Trent made his way up the last few steps and took a position behind Dawn and Bishop. He focused his camera tightly on the hole, trying to see inside. "Are you getting this, Chloe?" He asked into his headset.
"That's the weirdest fucking thing I've ever seen," Chloe answered back as she stared at the third monitor.
Dawn felt something wet fall on the back of her neck. Reaching up, she wiped it onto her hand. "Shine your light over here, Bish."
Bishop quickly complied and shone his flashlight on her hand. "What the hell is that?" he asked as he looked at the thick red fluid.
Dawn shook her head. "It almost looks like–"
"Blood," Rivers cut in. He was standing just behind Dawn, looking over her shoulder. "Where did it come from?"
Bishop flipped his flashlight up toward the ceiling and let out a gasp. Trent quickly followed suit with his camera. "It's hanging on the roof," he said quickly.
A sea of viscous red fluid had gathered on the roof above them. It looked like an upside down swimming pool as the fluid lapped at the walls around it. The crew could clearly see waves in the fluid and what appeared to be faces. They looked as if they were in pain as they were continually ripped apart, then reformed in other parts of the wave. Their silent screams unnerved the crew.
"What's keeping it up there?" Rivers asked.
"I don't have the first clue," Bishop replied. He watched as another drop broke free of the mass and fell to the floor. Stepping out of its way, he saw it hit the thick carpeting just in front of him. Bishop dropped to his knees and examined the fluid. To his amazement, the carpet below the drop began to smoke as if being burnt. "Dear Lord," he said quietly as he rose to his feet. Glancing around, he could see dro
ps beginning to fall around the crew. "It's an acid," Bishop said quickly. Turning back to the crew, he could see the fluid starting to separate from the ceiling in an upside down tsunami. It was falling down on them .
"Run!"
****
Cane and Kelley were sitting quietly against the wall of the cave. They hadn't spoken for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably closer to twenty minutes. They were each taking turns picking small pebbles off the ground and tossing them at the opposite wall. They had discovered, shortly after Kelley had sent the message, that she was also chained to the wall. Neither of them could get very far.
"What time do you think it is?" Kelley asked.
"I'm not sure," Cane answered honestly. "We're in kind of a sensory depravation chamber here. Day and night have no bearing on us."
"Look."
Cane spun his head around. "What am I looking at?"
"Behind you," Kelley instructed him.
Cane slowly turned to see behind him. There was a dull bluish light filtering into the cavern from places, or persons, unknown. For the first time, he could see a long tunnel that led into the cave. The light was strange. It seemed to be crawling along the floors and walls as if it was alive. It kept creeping steadily toward them.
"What do you think it is?"
"I don't have any idea."
"Any thoughts?"
Kelley quieted her mind. "What I'm sensing doesn't make much sense. I can read two completely different personalities inhabiting one body. There seems to be a struggle for dominance between the two personalities as well."
"But it's a person?" Cane asked.
"A woman."
They both looked up at the light as it grew brighter. Whoever it was, it was getting closer.
You have no reason to fear me, boomed a voice in their heads. I have come to stop them.
Cane looked over at Kelley. "Another telepath?"
Kelley shook her head quickly. There was a twinge of fear in her voice when she answered, "I don't think so. Whatever it is, it’s very powerful."
Cane lifted himself off the floor and quickly configured his body into a defensive posture. "I won't let it hurt you, Kelley."
"I feel very reassured by that," Kelley said cynically. "Thanks."
The two watched the light grow in intensity. There was no doubt it was heading toward them. Kelley and Cane waited with baited breath for whomever it was to show. They could tell there was a bend in the tunnel that led into the cave as the bluish white light spilled further into it.
"Who's there?" Cane yelled. He couldn't take it anymore.
"I am Veranda Till," a female voice answered steadily.
Cane and Kelley watched as a female form floated around the corner and came into full view. The light that seemed to be emanating from her body engulfed her. Cane recognized her as Morgan LeFay.
"What do you want, Morgan?" Cane asked, still believing she had murdered Sam Peters.
"Morgan is the vessel I am inhabiting," the woman replied. She stared at Cane with her black eyes. "My name is Veranda."
"Veranda," Cane said uneasily, "what do you want?"
"I have come to help you and Kelley."
Kelley was shocked Veranda knew her name. "How do you know–?"
"Your name?" Veranda asked. "I know all," she answered cryptically. "You are what the phantoms seek to contain. You are what must escape."
"They want my power," Kelley agreed.
"It's more than that," Veranda countered. "They want your very essence."
"What is this ritual that they are about to perform?" Cane queried.
"It is known as the ‘Ritual of Sevens'," Veranda answered evenly as she gradually floated to the floor. "They need seven hearts, seven personal effects, and it must be completed by midnight tonight. All seven hearts must be from people who have psychic powers. The phantoms believe through this ritual, they will gain the power of all seven people and their lives, making them almost immortal."
"How do you know all of this?" Cane asked.
"I stopped them from performing this same ritual seventy-seven years ago tonight.”
Cane took a moment to examine Veranda-Morgan's statement. "How have they, and you for that matter, returned?"
"There are things you cannot understand as humans. Once you have passed over the threshold into the afterlife, you will understand." Veranda continued, "I killed the original three priests who tried to perform the ritual, but in doing so, I lost my own life as well. I am now forever tied to them and the ritual."
"Interesting," Cane exhaled. "Why have you chosen Morgan's body?"
"I took the strongest person who was going to be directly involved with the ritual."
"But why–"
Veranda waived her hand in front of Cane's face, stopping him. "There is no more time for questions. The hour of the ritual looms near. We must hurry."
"Hurry to where?" Cane asked.
"To meet some friends."
Cane pointed down at the shackles around his and Kelley's ankles. "Unless you brought a hacksaw, we're not going anywhere."
Veranda-Morgan glanced down at the chains and laughed. Snapping her fingers, the chains and shackles turned into dust and fell away. Looking back at Kelley and Cane, she smiled. "Follow me."
Chapter 29
Diving through the mouth of the cave, Bishop stopped to look back. The fluid had vanished. He had entered the cave last, after making sure the entire crew was safe. One by one, they had charged into the cave to avoid the acidy red liquid, but where was it? Bishop slowly turned around to see the rest of the crew picking themselves off the ground and starting to dust off. Trent was the next up, his camera still firmly fastened to his shoulder, the red light still blazing in the darkness. Bishop moved over to Dawn and then to Rivers, helping them up. He patted Rivers firmly on the back and pointed to the camera, "We're still on the air."
Rivers could hear Chloe shouting frantically in her earpiece. Lifting up his hand, he tore the small clear bud from his ear and let it hang loosely over his shoulder. Trying to quickly gather his thoughts, he addressed the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said warily as he searched for the words to describe what had just happened. "I don't know if I can even begin to give justice to what just happened with words. This was the most incredible sight this man has ever beheld." He turned and glanced out the mouth of the cave. "We were chased in here by some kind of acid that seemed to be falling from the roof, and by here, I mean a cave that has somehow appeared in an outer wall of the house. Can we get a shot of the mouth of the cave?"
Trent quickly complied and spun the camera toward the mouth. His usually steady hold on the camera was now shaking slightly, and he could tell the camera had taken a hard fall. A few stray lines of static were rolling over the image in his eyepiece. With his steadying hand, he reached up and rapped the camera once with his knuckles, then again. The static momentarily faded, leaving him with a clear shot of the hallway through the cave. It was completely empty. No signs of the acid existed. He rolled the fader with his fingers, zooming in on the ceiling. He expected to at least see a few black scorch marks on the roof from the acid. He panned down to the floor. Nothing. No burns, no ragged edges on the thick gray carpet, nothing.
"As you can see," Rivers continued his narration; "there is no evidence of the red acid that chased us in here."
Trent quickly returned his focus to Rivers.
"Now we're standing in this cave that leads to who knows where, but hopefully, to the root of this haunting. I don't think I can say this enough, what we just encountered was truly phenomenal in nature." He reached down and grabbed the ear bud and pressed it firmly back into his ear. "Through this speaker," Rivers began to explain, "I can hear the director." He waited for a moment. "She's telling me that we need to take a commercial break." Rivers nodded to the unheard words of Chloe. "For Ghost Chasers, Incorporated, I'm Rivers Gallows. We'll be right back." Rivers held still until the red light vanished from the camera.
Once gone, he collapsed to the floor with a moan.
Carrie quickly rushed to his side. "What is it, Rivers?" She placed her hand on his shoulder.
"I was just chased by red acid and forced to dive into a cave. What the fuck do you think is the matter?" Rivers asked angrily. "Plus, I think I banged up my knee really good." He reached down and placed his hands gently on his knee. His pants were torn around the knee, exposing the bleeding red scrape over the cap.
"We need to get out of here," Carrie said to everyone. "I don't like this at all."
"I don't think that's an option," Bishop said from the back of the group.
Carrie glanced up at the younger man with anger in her eyes. "You're not going to give me some bullshit scientific reason we have to stay, are you?"
"No," Bishop said slowly. He was standing just inside the cave. He reached his hand out into the empty air. As it was about to pass through the mouth, it was suddenly stopped and forced back. A ripple crossed over the air in front of the cave. "There's something here stopping us."
Dawn stepped forward. "That's amazing. Does it hurt to touch?"
Bishop shook his head.
Dawn gingerly reached forward, her fingers stretching the invisible membrane that held them in. "It's like the skin on fresh milk."
"Thank you for that wonderful analogy," Jackson said. "I think my stomach just turned."
Dawn smiled. "Sorry."
Bishop turned to face the group. "Well, what's the plan?"
The crew looked at Bishop, then at each other, then back at Bishop again. None of them wanted to be there, but there didn't seem like they were being presented with much of a choice.
Trent stepped forward. "I think we should investigate," he said boldly. "That's what we're here for, after all."
Rivers shook his head. "We should stay put," he argued. "The last thing we want to do is get lost in this damned cave. We may never see daylight again."
"I tend to agree with Rivers," Carrie stated. "I don't want to die in here."