The Squeaky Ghost Gets the Curse

by Kennedy Layne

  You might be understating Ophelia’s desire just a tad bit, dear hexed one. That was some entrance.

  Truthfully, I was surprised that no one had all but accused us of scamming them with special effects. Their silence and acquiesce told me they’d experienced enough supernatural elements that they might actually be true believers now.

  It does make our job a bit easier, doesn’t it? Now, shall we relight those candles?

  “What does she want?” Izzy cried out, her hair not as smooth as what it had been earlier. As a matter of fact, the collective group of the Ashton clan’s pallor resembled ghosts themselves. “Why is she doing this?”

  “That is what we’re going to try to find out,” I reassured her, nodding to each and every one of them so that they had as much confidence in my answer as I did. “Please, take a seat on the floor around the coffee table while we finish getting things ready.”

  Orwin pushed up his glasses as he began lighting the candles once more. Pearl must be keeping her distance from him to prevent the others from asking why his allergies had suddenly become so bad.

  I witnessed the alien hunter taking his allergy medication before everyone gathered round. Upon more thought, it is quite funny that he believed the little green men would be interesting in abducting him for research purposes. I’m fairly certain a higher species would choose a specimen with higher quality DNA.

  Meanwhile, Knox readjusted each of the curtains back into position. The intense frown on his face told me what he’d already conveyed—he’d rather deal with other monsters, vampires, and zombies than he would a spirit that had the ability to remain invisible.

  “Lou,” Piper called out, waving her hand at me to come closer. “Did you know that Eugene Ruthsford Ashton died falling off the very same roof that is currently over our heads?”

  Ohhhh, another twist. These mysteries are such good cardio workouts, aren’t they?

  “That is correct,” Faye replied, carefully positioning herself on one of the long sides of the oval coffee table so that her dress remained in place. Izzy and Joshua joined her, all nodding their agreement on family history. “From the stories, our Eugene suffered terribly for days before he perished with Patricia by his side.”

  “Aren’t those the spirits who usually hang around to haunt a place like this?” Wilbur asked in his aged voice. He was pretty limber for his years on this earth, so it wasn’t surprising to find him helping Gertrude lower herself to the ground. “I heard you mention that earlier.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” I responded, wondering what else had occurred at Eugene’s bedside before his death. “Piper, what else does Patricia write in her diary about that dark time?”

  Orwin took a seat next to Gertrude, pushing up his glasses and patting her hand in reassurance. I tilted my head in gesture toward Knox in an attempt to get him to join, but he was having none of that.

  Now, this ought to be fun.

  “Stop that,” I muttered, figuring I was going to have enough trouble to get Knox to sit down on the floor with the others as it was. “Go help Piper or something.”

  Why? My sweet Piper has that fancy app of hers. Look, she’s typing in the new information now. I thought we’d come to the conclusion that technology isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. Apparently, I was the only one of that opinion.

  I could see from Piper’s expression that she was reassuring her familiar that she could never be replaced, even by technology. It was so rare that Pearl ever doubted herself, it made me wonder if Ophelia wasn’t trying to attempt to talk to us in a different manner altogether.

  I mean, possession by an agitated spirit wasn’t unheard of in our world.

  Have you gone mad, dear hexed one? I’ve been on the face of this earth for over two thousand years. Trust me when I say that I am well warded in the possession department from a poltergeist. Technology is another story altogether. Who knows what artificial intelligence is capable of when we don’t understand its limitations?

  I’m sure Pearl could have gone on and on about the unknown dangers of technology, but that was for another time. Right now, we had one really upset spirit to deal with before anyone else was hurt or worse…killed.

  Orwin was instructing those at the coffee table what would happen in the coming moments, such as how we would all hold hands in unity as we called upon Ophelia to communicate with us. It was vital that the chain of hands not be broken or else our tenuous connection to the afterlife would be severed as well.

  “Knox, please come join us,” I urged once I made my way over to where he was standing next to the hearth. The golden hue of his eyes was practically as bright as the flickering flames behind him, and his intense gaze was completely focused on the French doors that were currently still closed. “The more energy we have at the table, the easier it will be to communicate with Ophelia.”

  It appears that Mr. Emeric’s stubborn streak might be hampering our efforts, Miss Lilura.

  “Do you hear that?” Knox asked, narrowing his stare when he tilted his head slightly.

  He wasn’t referring to Pearl’s opinion, but instead some sound he was picking up from elsewhere else in the mansion. A werewolf’s senses were heightened beyond imagination.

  Knox could hear and recognize a specific howl from over five miles away. His sense of smell could distinguish one sample of blood from another at twenty paces, and he could detect the presence of another supernatural being by their lack of human pheromones.

  The most powerful sense available to a werewolf besides smell was his visual acuity. He could read a book from across the road at night in little to no moonlight. Nothing much was going to escape his attention.

  “I don’t hear anything,” I replied quietly, not wanting to alarm the others. “Knox, please come join us.”

  “I’ve been catching sounds of a…well, a screech.” Knox shook his head slightly when he couldn’t distinguish what the high-pitched squeal was or where it was coming from. “I thought it was coming from the plumbing or electrical equipment of the manor, but now I’m not so sure.”

  I’m not so sure you’ll be able to convince Mr. Emeric to join us, dear hexed one. We’re wasting precious time, and you know how important the witching hour is to this endeavor.

  “I realize that Ammeline threw you into a life you never believed existed before, and I haven’t given you enough credit for adjusting as fast as you have this past year.” I’ve always been a little guarded, but most witches were when it came to the supernatural realm. After being hexed, my need to protect myself became even more imperative. I could only imagine what it was like for Knox to be on the receiving end of something he didn’t believe in. “It’s terrifying, mind-numbing, and so farfetched that you think you’re losing your sanity. I’m right there with you, and I question every day if we’ll ever find a cure to these curses. But this family has no idea that the supernatural walks beside them and that it was responsible for Florence’s death. We might be able to offer them some small measure of closure, Knox.”

  You rendered me speechless, dear hexed one. Well done. Well done.

  I barely refrained from rolling my eyes at Pearl’s praise. She was always telling me to be more open, to share my feelings, and to allow myself to enjoy the fleeting moments of happiness that slipped through this hex of mine.

  That was easier said than done.

  “Fine.” Knox compressed his lips before pointing a finger toward my chest. “If you start speaking in tongues or if that thing takes over your body…all bets are off.”

  My face literally hurt as I did my best to prevent my smile from spreading at his defensive stance against the unknown. I pursed my lips and nodded solemnly in agreement to whatever it was he thought he could do if those things did happen…which technically weren’t out of the question. I could only imagine what it would be like if Knox turned while sitting at the table with our guests immediately after I started speaking with a disembodied voice.

  Fortunately for us, we kno
w how to avoid such mistakes. I double-checked the alien hunter’s work on the runes inside the lid of the white oak box that was made for exactly these kinds of circumstances, and I daresay I’m somewhat impressed with his precision in such matters.

  “It looks as if we’re ready,” I said quietly, nodding toward Piper to join us. She carried the journals with her and kneeled next to Knox on the opposite end, setting the intimate details of the Ashton family next to her on the large area rug. The two of them were both on their knees facing the French doors. I didn’t care for having my back toward any entrance or exit, either, but this certainly wasn’t normal circumstances. “Everyone hold hands, please. Whatever happens, please do not break the circle. Do not let go.”

  I’m right next to you, dear hexed one.

  I, too, settled on my knees, reaching for Orwin’s hand to my left. I had done the same to Joshua, who had a similar expression to Knox in that he’d rather be anywhere else but here. It didn’t surprise me to find that Joshua’s palm was cold in his apprehension. Quite the contrast to mine, given that I was confident this séance was our only ticket to the truth.

  Unable to help myself, I gave Knox a wink of encouragement before closing my eyes and inviting the surrounding energy to enter my body. Almost in unison, I could hear everyone’s breath hitch. A group tended to follow their leader, so I began to even out my inhalations and exhalations to establish composure amongst the participants.

  What a touching gesture you just gave—

  I shifted, knowing for a fact that Pearl was to my right from the direction of her English-accented voice.

  Right, right. You were just reassuring Mr. Emeric, that’s all. I shouldn’t be so presumptuous.

  The sarcasm was practically dripping from Pearl’s words, and I wasn’t happy that Orwin and Piper could hear our exchange. We were all in this together, and I was just trying to get Knox comfortable with the supernatural realm.

  Now wasn’t the time to be having this conversation anyway, so I did my best to block everything out but the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. The seconds slowly melded with my heartbeat until I was prepared for what came next.

  Shall we begin, dear hexed one?

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Ophelia Rosalyn Ashton, we call upon you to join us in whatever form you can.”

  The sound of my own voice was like a cannon being shot inside the great room. Of course, it was nothing like the dramatic deep chime when the grandfather clock had struck twelve times to signify that it was the witching hour.

  Oh, how exciting is this?

  One minute, Pearl was voicing her concern about the consequences of such a séance, and now she was enjoying herself?

  Now that I’ve double-checked Mr. Cornelia’s fail safe, I certainly am. This is magic at its best, dear hexed one. Oh, and the additional spot of warm cream might have eased my concern, as well.

  “Ophelia Rosalyn Ashton, we call upon you to join us at this table,” I repeated, holding firmly to those hands in my grasp. “Show us a sign you are with us.”

  Yes, please. Communicate with us, dear Ophelia.

  I slowly lifted my lashes to find that most everyone was focused on the French doors. They could concentrate all they wanted on the double entrance, but I was more concerned with the flickering flames of the candles. Orwin and Piper were studying the burning wicks, as well, looking for telltale signs that we were no longer alone. Knox, on the other hand, was staring at me rather intensely.

  Isn’t he such a gentleman? Mr. Emeric is making sure that you’re okay, dear hexed one. He gets super special bonus points.

  “Ophelia, I know you wish to communicate with your family,” I continued, slowly moving my gaze about the room for any indication that the agitated spirit was near. “They are gathered here to hear your message. Please let us know that you’re with us.”

  The mere flicker of the flame on the mantle of the hearth gave me hope that Ophelia was about to answer our request, in spite of Pearl’s commentary.

  I’m helping, in case you hadn’t noticed, dear hexed one. From Ms. Ophelia’s previous visits, a mere familiar wouldn’t prevent her from materializing.

  “You’ve waited a long time to convey your message, Ophelia.”

  That’s an understatement, but I’m sure she’ll understand your efforts, Miss Lilura.

  I paused my plea for a moment, allowing the spirit to garner the energy it would take materialize. Some spirits only communicated through noises, Ouija boards, and intermediates like mediums. We knew for a fact that Ophelia had utilized those years she’d been earthbound to perfect her ability to cross over with a certain amount of force.

  “Your family is gathered around in the very room you spent time with your husband and children, Ophelia. They’d like the opportunity to hear what you have to say.”

  I’m not so sure about that, given the fact that they are mere seconds away from panicking.

  The collective gasps that came from those surrounding the coffee table wasn’t surprising, especially given that Ophelia didn’t gradually materialize in front of us. No, she chose to enter the room with a bang—specifically by blowing the doors wide open.

  Those mere flickers of the candle flames had just been Ophelia having a bit of fun. She’s finally here…

  “Do not break the circle,” I called out, holding tight to Joshua’s hand before he could break the circle. I didn’t have to worry about Orwin, who was currently sniffling up a storm due to his allergies. “Maintain contact at all times!”

  “Eugene…”

  Those collective gasps I’d mentioned? Well, I’m pretty sure Izzy screamed and Faye came close to fainting at the sight of Ophelia hovering in the doorway. I figure the only reason they continued to hold hands was that their grips were like vises.

  I’m monitoring their responses, dear hexed one. Please concentrate on our guest so that we don’t somehow end up slipping off to the other side of the veil. I’m certainly not ready to leave just yet.

  Ophelia’s ethereal presence wasn’t calm, as were most visitors from the other side. The frantic way she kept looking around the room was rather unsettling. The wisps of her form gracefully flowed in each direction she turned, still calling out her husband’s name.

  “Ophelia, why has your spirit remained here with us on this plane?” I asked, unable to pinpoint why Ophelia seemed so agitated instead of angry. She’d pushed Florence to her death before attempting the same to Faye. I had fully expected fury and rage to be seeping from the apparition in front of us. “What is it that is keeping you from crossing over?”

  “Eugene…”

  Ophelia’s energy was filled with such angst, her sorrow was like tidal waves breaking on the rocks.

  We might have a problem, dear hexed one. Ms. Faye is practically bubbling over with grief, as are Ms. Izzy and Mr. Joshua.

  “Why did you kill my sister?” Faye asked, crying out in a way that had me worried she’d break our bond. The older woman was shaking with fear, but it was Ophelia’s sorrow that had Faye reacting without thinking. “Why would you do that?”

  “Eugene…”

  Call for Mr. Eugene. It’s clear that Ms. Ophelia will not answer anyone until she speaks with her husband. It’s only a matter of time before this séance becomes too much for the Ashtons. Do it now, dear hexed one.

  “Eugene Ruthsford Ashton, we call on you through the veil. We ask that you cross over and speak with your wife,” I requested, grateful that Pearl was able to read the situation clearly while I was able to focus on the white oak box Orwin had set up in case things went south. “Eugene Ruthsford Ashton, we call on you through the—”

  The rage I’d expected to experience when Ophelia made her presence known suddenly entered the room, but the penetrating emotion didn’t emanate from her…

  I’m ashamed to admit it, but we’ve been wrong this entire time. If this situation and Mr. Eugene cannot be controlled, there is only one thing left t
o do…

  You see, Eugene Ruthsford Ashton didn’t come through the veil. He’d been in this manor the entire time, gathering the energy needed to physically hurt one of his descendants. We all had to be very careful choosing our next move. If I did follow through with our failsafe plan, then we’d be left to deal with Ophelia’s ghost after watching us trap her husband’s raging spirit. I feared that all her sorrow could easily turn into a tsunami of uncontrolled anger.

  One by one, the individual candles that Piper had set out were being extinguished. The drapes covering the windows were moving as if gusts of winds were blowing in from outside, and the blazing fire seemed to become stronger and brighter as Eugene finally materialized by the hearth.

  Now might be a good time to get that failsafe plan ready, dear hexed one.

  “Eugene,” Piper called out softly, catching me off guard that she would put herself all in at the chance of angering a vengeful spirit. With that said, she was buying me time to shift the white oak box with my mind so that it was facing the entity responsible for murder. “We can all feel your rage. Is that why you played a trick on us today in room thirteen?”

  I’m sensing that Mr. Eugene didn’t appreciate that question.

  The wood logs in the blazing fire behind Eugene shifted, which caused glowing embers to spark into the air.

  “I’m so sorry, Eugene,” Ophelia replied, sadness drenching her words. “I had no choice but to show them. Please come with me so that we can rest.”

  True love…it’s unconditional.

  Eugene was the spirit who had committed murder.

  I wasn’t so sure such an evil act didn’t change the meaning of love.

  It seems not, dear hexed one. Ms. Ophelia wouldn’t have remained behind all these years in a state of unrest had her love not been unconditional.

  All three Ashtons who were still gripping each other’s hands as if they were about to be swept up by a tornado didn’t know quite where to focus—on Ophelia hovering near the French doors, Eugene near the hearth, or Piper sitting across from me. We’d never divulged what we’d originally found in room thirteen, which turned out to be a good thing considering it had been nothing but a mirage.