Ghost Hunt: Chilling Tales of the Unknown

by Jason Hawes

  Get out! That’s what the voice said. If only he had listened. If only he had run. If only he had stopped his friends. If only…

  Then he would be able to sleep. Then he wouldn’t be so afraid.

  Then he wouldn’t have a ghost after him!

  I have to do something! Eli thought. Staying here tossing and turning was the worst. Eli slipped on his running shoes and tiptoed to his door. He felt like a blind man groping his way through the dark house, reaching for the walls to guide him. He held his breath and made his way down the hall. Every nerve in his body felt stretched tight. His brain screamed a warning. Don’t go! Don’t go!

  But Eli knew he had to.

  He snuck into the kitchen to get a flashlight from the drawer. Then he headed for the front door and reached for his jacket hanging on a hook.

  As he pulled the jacket on, Eli saw something wedged in the umbrella stand. He stuck out his hand and grabbed it and gently tugged it loose.

  He was holding the clay candlestick. The clay candlestick he made in summer camp, the one that no one ever used, the one that always stayed on the end table in the living room.

  But not anymore. Now it was the candlestick the ghost had moved.

  He put the candlestick down and fumbled with the door. His hand trembled as he turned the knob. Finally the front door swung open. Eli bolted down the moonlit street, chasing his own faint shadow toward the graveyard.

  Eli caught his breath. He was standing in front of a high stone wall at the entrance to the cemetery. His lungs burned from running. The sun was not quite up and the sky was charcoal gray. A morning mist clung to the ground. It was so thick, Eli could hardly see what was in front of him.

  He paused and smelled the damp air. Eli knew he had to take a step forward. He had to go into the graveyard. But his legs wouldn’t move. They were locked in place like concrete. Last time, Patrick and Jake had been here. It was easier to pretend he was brave when he was with them. Now he was alone.

  Was he really alone? Eli felt eyes staring at his back. He had the feeling he was being watched.

  He spun around. But there was no one there in the thick, gray mist.

  Eli’s mind raced. A terrible thought was wedged in his mind. He could feel the truth of it in every cell of his body.

  The ghost had followed him. Eli knew exactly how it had happened. The ghost had watched him toss and turn in bed. It followed him out of his room and trailed him all the way to the cemetery.

  A crisp chill tingled against his cheek. Eli lifted his arm and turned on the flashlight. The mist reflected the beam back into his eyes, blinding him for a second. He quickly switched off the light.

  Eli rubbed his face. He couldn’t turn back now. He tried to turn off his brain and started walking into the graveyard. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing this. Only that it was necessary.

  Nothing in the cemetery looked familiar. In the charcoal light all the graves blended together. The white outlines of the tombstones were barely visible through the fog.

  The feeling of being watched grew more intense. He couldn’t shake it. The horrible stink of decay rose from the ground. Eli kept moving, stumbling through the fog. He heard a shushing sound and froze for a moment. Then looked up. It was only the leaves overhead.

  Then he felt it again. Someone’s gaze focused on the back of his head. He whirled around. All he could see behind him was fog. Eli looked around quickly. But there was no one in sight.

  Eli started breathing faster. His chest heaved in and out. His hands rolled into fists. He was ready to run at the slightest sound.

  “Who’s there?” he yelled. “I know you’re there.”

  He waited for an answer. Nothing.

  He took a few steps forward. “Is anybody there?”

  Eli felt a tickle on his leg. He took a few more steps. The tickle turned into a scratch. Then it started to hurt.

  He felt a cold bony hand tighten around his ankle. He shook his leg, but the cold hand gripped tighter.

  Eli took off. The faster he ran, the harder the hand clawed into his skin. It wouldn’t let go. He fell to his side and thrashed his leg to break free.

  He saw a fist-sized rock nearby. He grabbed it and raised it high, ready to smash the bony hand. Then Eli gasped. A dried-out wreath of dead flowers circled his ankle. Thorns, twigs, and wires wrapped around his ankle and dug into his skin. Eli pulled it off and shook his head in relief.

  It was almost dawn. Eli could see the cemetery more clearly. He stood up and went to where he saw a gap in the row of gravestones. This was the spot. The headstone he’d knocked over lay at his feet in pieces. A few other gravestones lay knocked over and broken. The stone fragments were scattered like bread crumbs.

  This was where Jake and Patrick tried to wake up the ghosts. They had been joking around. None of them thought it could really happen.

  Eli crouched. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for—maybe the name on the grave. The fog swirled around him, clouding his vision. Then he heard it. That voice. That raspy voice.

  Get out! Just a whisper.

  Get out! Deeper, more like a growl.

  GET OUT! This time it was a shriek. And it was coming right at him!

  Eli ran. Faster than he had ever run in his life. He didn’t stop running until he was inside his front door. But even then he didn’t feel safe. Whatever it was that was after him—it knew where he lived.

  A few days after the Burton investigation, the team met at TAPS headquarters to discuss the evidence.

  “So what have we got here?” Grant asked. He took a quick sip of hot coffee. “The Burtons could use some answers.”

  “After what I saw, I’d like some answers too,” Lyssa said.

  “Check this out,” Jen called to the group.

  She showed them an image on a computer screen. “This was taken by the thermal camera in Eli’s room. I got it just after we saw the door close. Watch carefully. Did you see that bright orange spot?” She ran the picture back so they could all see the spot. It was right in the center of the door frame.

  “The rest of the room is totally cool and showing all different shades of blue. But in that little area, it’s hot. Very hot.”

  Jason and Grant came by to take a look. “Definitely a hot spot,” Jason agreed.

  “Could be evidence of a spirit,” Grant added. “And the door and the faucet could also be evidence of the paranormal. But…”

  “We’re missing something,” Lyssa said. “So many of the strange events seemed connected to Eli. The sounds. The missing money. The way his father’s wedding band appeared in front of Eli’s room. But Eli was so quiet, almost as if he wasn’t interested. I think there’s a piece of the puzzle that we don’t have. And I have a feeling that the missing piece is with Eli. I think he’s hiding it.”

  Lyssa was really pleased that she convinced Jason and Grant to let her talk to Eli one more time. They went to the Burton house without any of their equipment. This visit would be interview only.

  They sat in the living room with Mr. and Mrs. Burton and their son. Eli was staring at the screen of his cell phone.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” Mrs. Burton said to the TAPS team. She gave a shudder. “Is there a spirit in the house? Can you make it go away?”

  “What did you find out?” Mr. Burton asked.

  “We have some evidence pointing to the paranormal, but we don’t have enough to be sure.”

  “Oh,” Mr. Burton said. He looked disappointed. “Do you need to do more investigation?”

  Lyssa spoke up. “We’d like to interview Eli again. Alone, if that’s okay with you.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Burton looked at each other, a little confused. Eli seemed to be busy texting someone.

  “Eli? But he already told you everything he knows,” Mr. Burton said.

  “We just have a few more questions,” Lyssa said. “Things we’ve been wondering about since we saw the evidence.”

  Mrs. Burton nodded. “I guess that’s fine
. If you think it would help.” She frowned at her son. “Eli, put that phone away.”

  Eli’s parents got up to leave. “We’ll be upstairs,” Mr. Burton said.

  Jason leaned forward a little. “Eli, we know there are things you didn’t tell us. What’s up?”

  Eli’s eyes moved from Lyssa to Jason to Grant.

  “I told you guys everything I know,” he finally said.

  “No, you didn’t,” Lyssa said. “We know there’s more to it.”

  This seemed to catch Eli’s attention. He looked at Lyssa, a question in his eyes. Then he shook his head. “I can’t,” he said flatly. “If I tell you, you’ll just tell my parents.”

  “We’re not here to get you in trouble,” Lyssa said. “We’re here to help.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Oh? You’re going to handle this on your own?” Jason said. “How’s that been working for you so far?”

  Eli sighed. “Not so great,” he admitted.

  “Please, Eli,” Lyssa said. “Tell us what’s really going on.”

  “Things got out of hand,” Eli said quietly. “We didn’t mean for anything to happen. But…” His voice dropped so low that Lyssa could barely hear him. “We did something terrible. And now I’m really scared.”

  “Who is ‘we’?” Lyssa asked.

  “Me and my friends. We went out to the graveyard one night. We were just bored. But I thought I saw something, and then I thought I heard something. And then one of my friends shoved me, and I knocked over a headstone. It was an accident, I swear.”

  “Is that all that happened?” Grant asked.

  Eli shook his head. “Then my friends… They sort of went crazy. They knocked over a few more headstones. And all the weird stuff that’s been happening in this house—it started right after that night.”

  Lyssa looked at Jason and Grant. They nodded to her in approval. Her instincts had proved right.

  “Please don’t tell my parents,” Eli said. “They would be so upset with me. And those graves are so old. They were practically falling over by themselves.”

  “Like we said, it’s not our business to get you in trouble,” Grant told Eli. “But personally, I think you should tell your parents. They’ve had to deal with all this too. If you explain it to them the way you explained it to us, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  Eli nodded.

  “And you have to make up for this somehow,” Jason said. “It seems like you’ve offended a spirit. It’s time to make up for that. Maybe you should go back to the graveyard to pay your respects. Cleaning up the area and apologizing seems like the right thing to do.”

  “Okay,” Eli agreed. “I want this to stop. I’ll do all of that.” He gave them a quick grin. “In the daytime.”

  The only sound in TAPS headquarters was Lyssa clicking her pen against the desk.

  “What a slow day,” she said to Mark.

  “Yeah, where did all the ghosts go?” he asked.

  “Guess we’re in a ghost-free zone right now,” Mike spoke up.

  Lyssa suddenly had an idea. “You know what?” she said. “I’m going to check in on the Burtons.”

  Lyssa picked up the phone and dialed the number. Eli’s voice answered on the other end.

  “Hi, Eli. It’s Lyssa, from TAPS. I just called to see how you’re doing.”

  “Hey, Lyssa,” he said. “Things are good. I did exactly like you said. I went to the graveyard and apologized. Then I cleaned up everything.”

  “And…?”

  “And our house has been normal ever since!” Eli said. Then he lowered his voice. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you guys didn’t show up. Thanks so much for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Lyssa said. It felt really great being able to help the Burtons.

  Lyssa smiled and thought: sometimes being ghost free was a very good thing—even for a Ghost Hunter.

  THE GHOST OF GRANDMA HELEN

  “Where are you?” Miranda cried.

  Four-year-old Miranda Johnston sat straight up in bed. Her back was pressed against the headboard. A strange tingling filled her whole body.

  It didn’t hurt. Not quite. But pretty close.

  Miranda’s pale blond hair tumbled around her shoulders as her head twisted from side to side. Her deep blue eyes were searching, peering into every corner of her bedroom.

  “Where are you?” she asked again, in a whisper this time.

  She hugged Polar Bear, her favorite stuffed animal, to her chest.

  “I can’t see you,” Miranda whispered. “But I’m trying so hard!”

  There was someone in the room with her. Miranda was only four years old, but she was absolutely sure about this.

  “Don’t be a…” She began to sing in a high, breathy voice. She rocked from side to side. “Don’t be a Little Louie Worrywart.”

  Miranda giggled. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. The girl didn’t want her parents to come in and make her go to sleep. Not now.

  “Oh, Grandma! That’s so funny. Okay. I promise not to tell.”

  “Miranda… sweetheart. Who are you talking to?”

  Miranda’s head jerked around. Her mother stood in the shadows of the bedroom doorway.

  “What’s the matter, Mommy?” she asked. “You look funny.” Her mother’s eyes were open very wide. But her lips were twisted and pushed together tight. It was the same kind of face Miranda made after her mother made her take cough medicine.

  Miranda’s mother came into the room. “You look pretty funny yourself. What are you doing up? It’s way past your bedtime.”

  “I know tha-at,” Miranda said. Why did grown-ups always want to tell you stuff you already knew? “I went to sleep. Then I woke up because of Grandma Helen.”

  “Grandma Helen,” her mother echoed.

  She leaned over the bed to stare into Miranda’s face.

  “Is that who you were talking to? Grandma Helen?”

  “Uh-huh.” Miranda nodded. “Mommy—”

  “But you know you can’t do that, right?” her mother interrupted. Her voice had a funny sound to it. The scared sound. “Miranda, sweetheart, you know Grandma Helen died three months ago.”

  “I know,” Miranda said. “But Mommy—”

  “What, sweetheart?” her mother asked.

  “She’s standing right behind you.”

  “Okay.” Jason’s voice rang out loud and clear over the speakerphone. “Let’s do our check-in on the Johnston case. Lyssa, why don’t you get us started?”

  Lyssa leaned forward in her seat. She was riding with Grant and Jason in one of the SUVs. The TAPS team was on its way to investigate the Johnston home. Jen and the Hammond twins were squeezed into the equipment van.

  “I talked to Mrs. Johnston last week,” Lyssa began. “She was pretty upset. She said her daughter, Miranda, claims she talks to her grandmother, Helen Johnston, in her bedroom at night. Grandma Helen died three months ago.”

  “Anyone else in the family see her?” asked Jen. As usual, Jen was the first one to ask questions.

  “Mrs. Johnston says she saw something in the hall near Miranda’s room. But she wasn’t sure who or what it was.”

  “How old is the daughter?” The voice of one of the Hammond twins came through the speaker.

  “Four years old,” Lyssa answered.

  “Wow,” Jen said. “Have we ever investigated a case with someone this young?”

  “Yes, we have.” Jason spoke up. “It isn’t easy.”

  “Do you think we can believe her?” Jen sounded worried. Lyssa was thinking the very same question. When they got to the Johnston house, Jen would be in charge of where to place the cameras, voice recorders, and other equipment. If Miranda wasn’t telling the truth, Jen could wind up wasting a lot of time.

  “It’s not that I think the little girl is lying,” Jen said. “But sometimes little kids don’t know the difference between real and make-believe.”

>   “That’s okay. Neither does Jason!” Grant joked.

  Lyssa laughed out loud.

  “A four-year-old having a sighting isn’t as weird as you might think,” said one of the twins. “We had our first sighting when we were six.”

  “I still can’t get over the fact that you grew up in a haunted house,” Lyssa said. “I’m still trying to imagine what that was like.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t bad, it was just home to us,” he replied. “I think it would be harder to move into a house and then find out it’s haunted!”

  “But when you grow up with it, you think it’s normal,” the second Hammond twin chimed in. “Kids accept weird stuff a lot more easily than grown-ups do.”

  “I never thought of it that way. That’s a good point, Mark.” Lyssa risked a guess about which twin was speaking.

  “Mike,” the voice said. “Mark is driving.”

  “Excuse me?” Lyssa, Jason, and Grant all yelled at the same time.

  As a researcher, Mark Hammond rocked. He could always dig up weird details nobody else would even think to look for. But when it came to the day-to-day stuff, Mark’s mind could wander. That made him a terrible driver!

  “Calm down, everybody,” Jen said through the speakerphone. “He’s joking. No way I would ride with him. I’m driving.” She had to shout to be heard over the twins’ laughter.

  “I think I see what Mike means about little kids accepting weird stuff,” Jen continued when the laughter died down. “Little kids believe in Santa Claus. They think the tooth fairy leaves a quarter under their pillow at night.”

  “Kids are very open,” Jason agreed. “Sometimes they see and hear more than adults.”

  “Because they don’t know they’re not supposed to,” Lyssa added.

  “That’s right.”

  “Hey, you guys, I think we’re almost there,” Jen said. “We just passed the library your directions mention, Lyssa.”

  “Roger that,” Lyssa said. “We’re pulling up to the house. See you in a few. You got robbed, by the way. The tooth fairy always gave me a dollar!”