Tortured Souls (The Orion Circle)

by Wheaton, Kimber Leigh

  He stands and walks to the front door. When I follow him out onto the porch, he stops and turns back to me. Several moments pass in silence. He continues to gaze at me while I desperately hope he’ll kiss me. Right now I want nothing more than to feel his lips on mine, my first kiss. Well first meaningful kiss anyway.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, Kacie,” he murmurs before turning and walking to his car.

  Hugging my arms around my body, I watch in silence as he gets in his Mustang and drives away. The chilly breeze cools my warm skin. I walk out onto the wet grass, the cold water on my bare feet forcing my mind to stay rooted in the present. The storm has passed taking the clouds with it, leaving the half moon and stars visible in the darkened sky. Gazing at the stars my mind fills with images of Logan. His citrine eyes, curly brown hair and his amazing smile. My heart flutters a bit as I think of what it would be like to kiss his full lips. With a wistful sigh, I head back into the brightly lit house and make my way to my room, hopefully to some very sweet dreams.

  Chapter Nine

  Ghost Hunt

  The days fly by with school during the day and three hour training sessions with Michelle and Logan in the evenings. Two sessions and I’ve already learned how to raise and lower a psychic barrier that keeps spirits out. I just can’t keep it up all the time or it starts to cause problems. By imagining the barrier as a brick wall, I’m able to block out all but the most stubborn spiritual energy. It will take time and practice, I know. But Michelle said I’m a quick learner and it’ll be second nature soon.

  Learning to control my psychic walls is much easier than I expected. It seems I was doing it subconsciously when I was a child. Each time I yelled, “go away”, in frustration, I was actually throwing up a psychic block. If I hadn’t been so stubborn a year ago and refused to lower the barrier, I might be even better at this by now.

  Every night the visions plague me—barrier or no barrier. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to block them out. Fatigue wears at me from lack of sleep. Were it not for caffeine, I’m not sure I’d survive at all.

  Drama rehearsal this afternoon was brutal. Mr. Holmes was in rare form… nasty form that is. Nothing was done right, and he forced Daniel and me to stay an extra hour after the rest of the cast left. Between my “lack of anything resembling grace”, and Daniel’s “caterwauling”, I can’t help but wonder why we were cast in the first place. On the ride home, I cried—I actually cried in front of Daniel. I’m just grateful I didn’t cry in front of that asshat director.

  Worst of all, Daniel wouldn’t leak a hint about my test tonight. After all we’d been through together at rehearsal, he kept his mouth zipped.

  Rebecca, Daniel, and Logan are taking me out tonight for a test of my new control. They’ve all been so tight-lipped about it. I’m back to imagining animal sacrifices in a graveyard.

  I drop my backpack and stare at my bed in longing. A glance at the clock shows there’s no time to even consider a nap. Daniel said he’d be back in less than an hour. Plopping on the bed, I devour the fried chicken I nabbed from the kitchen downstairs, washing it down with a diet soda. When I’m finished, I peel off my clothes and head for a quick shower. I swear I worked up more of a sweat at rehearsal today than at a cross country meet.

  “Downtown?” I ask, staring out the window of Daniel’s SUV. “Come on, it’s time to spill. Where are we going?”

  “Oh, here and there,” Rebecca says from the front seat. “By the time we’re through, I think it will be four or five places total.”

  “Please guys,” I say, close to tears. “I can’t take this anymore. The visions are getting worse and I’m not handling life well right now. And after Mr. Holmes this afternoon…”

  “Shh, Kacie, it’s going to be fun. I promise,” Logan says as he takes my hand in his, weaving our fingers together. “You’re going to love it.”

  My stomach flutters. “Really?” I ask, staring at our entwined hands. If Logan plans to hold my hand tonight, then I think I can handle anything.

  “Cici, I guarantee you a fun time tonight,” Daniel says, glancing at me in the review mirror. “And you were fantastic this afternoon, by the way. I think Mr. Holmes is having boyfriend trouble which is turning him into a monster.”

  “So I didn’t have ‘elephant feet’?” I ask, cringing at the phrase the director used to describe my dancing.

  “Hell, no,” Daniel says laughing. “Dancing may not be your strongest suit, but you’re still good. Besides, you have the voice of an angel.”

  “Thanks, I needed that,” I murmur, smiling at his compliment. “And you didn’t sound like ‘an alley cat in heat’ either. You have a very nice baritone.”

  “Thanks,” Daniel says snorting. “We’re taking you downtown for a ghost tour. You’ll love it.”

  “Daniel!” Rebecca’s shriek makes me cringe. “You weren’t supposed to tell her.”

  “Really? A ghost tour sounds like a lot of fun,” I reply, ignoring Rebecca’s outburst.

  “It was my idea,” Rebecca says, turning in the seat to look at me. “I thought you’d have lots of chances to work on your shields with residual energy. Then Logan wants you to meet a ghost he thinks you can help.” Her gaze drops to the backseat. “And Logan’s holding your hand,” she adds in a squeal.

  “It’s a great idea, Rebecca,” I say, trying to sound casual and normal. “I’ve never been on a ghost tour.”

  “Forget that,” Rebecca says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Are you two like officially together?”

  “I-I don—” I mutter.

  “I hope so,” Logan says over my stammering.

  I glance at him, praying my face isn’t as red as it feels. His smile is breathtaking, and I sigh a bit under my breath. He seems to be waiting for an answer, but I don’t think my voice will work no matter how hard I try. I nod, giving him a shy smile while gazing at him from under my bangs. He squeezes my hand, caressing my thumb with his. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the headrest, concentrating on the feeling of his hand holding mine. I never want this moment to end…

  Opulence drips from every detail in this magnificent hotel lobby. The chandeliers alone are worth staring at. Dangling crystals send beams of colored light dancing all around. Plush red furniture with gold accents that should appear garish just helps create the turn of the century look. Our tour guide describes the grisly history of the Red Majestic Hotel, but I turn a deaf ear. So much tragedy—I can feel the icy tendrils of energy pulling at my mental block.

  “Now we’ll head to the kitchen so you can see the spot where Chef Andre killed his sous chef with your own eyes,” the guide says in a dramatic, booming voice as he ushers the tour members to the back of the hotel.

  “This is where we leave you, Jeff,” Daniel says, passing a twenty dollar bill to our guide. “We’re heading up to room 208.”

  “Always good to see you guys,” Jeff says, tipping his cowboy hat. “Y’all be careful up in 208. You never know what might happen in there.”

  “No need to worry,” Logan says. “Keep us up to date on anything strange.”

  “You’ll have to be a bit more specific than that,” Jeff replies with a grin. “Did you see that brunette cougar in the group? The one with the chest out to here,” he says, gesturing with his hands. “She actually squeezed my ass. Twice.”

  “Let’s keep the reveal to the supernatural, Jeff,” Rebecca says through her laughter. “What you do with your tour groupies is your own business.”

  “Sounds dreadfully dull,” Jeff says before heading off to his tour group. “Have fun in room 208, newbie,” he says over his shoulder.

  “What’s in room 208?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “A very temperamental ghost,” Daniel says, in a deep, spooky voice. “Kinda reminds me of that green slime ball in Ghostbusters.”

  “We want you to try to convince this ghost to move on,” Logan says, taking my arm and
leading me toward a bank of gold elevators. “Okay, now turn around and face the lobby.”

  I turn and gaze at the empty lobby. Everything is quiet with the tour group gone. My eyes roam across the turn of the century décor. I wonder what Logan wants me to see.

  “Now lower your wall,” Logan says in an excited murmur.

  The moment my barrier is lowered I gasp in amazement. Spirit energy fills the large room—men, women, children, and even a dog. It’s residual energy, an imprint left behind all those years ago. I’ve never seen anything like this… ever. In a way it’s so beautiful watching the wispy white forms go about their business, oblivious to the passing of time.

  “It’s amazing,” I murmur to Logan. “Are any of them aware?”

  “No, I think it’s all residual down here now,” Logan replies with a grin. “It’s like the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World.”

  “I’ve never been,” I reply, watching the ghostly image of a hotel clerk pass through the man at the bell desk. He shivers and his head darts around before he shrugs his shoulders and returns to working. “I can see why so many people have experiences here. How did we manage to walk through the lobby without running into one of the spirits?”

  “I didn’t,” Daniel says, crossing his arms. “I felt one pass right through me earlier.”

  “I wish I could see them,” Rebecca says, her voice filled with yearning.

  “Ready for the next surprise?” Logan asks.

  When I nod he pushes the up button for the elevator. The car arrives and we step inside the mirrored box. A ghostly form hovers near the control panel. He’s wearing what appears to be a uniform with a small pillbox hat.

  “Floor two, please,” Logan says to the spirit.

  “Cool!” Rebecca says as the number lights up. “Did the ghost push it for us?”

  “Yep, this one seems to be aware,” Logan says, eyeing the spirit. “Are you happy here or would you like help moving on?” The specter tips his hat before disappearing.

  “I guess he’s happy here,” Logan says with a sigh. “I wonder how long he’s been operating this elevator.”

  “Probably since the hotel opened and an operator was necessary,” Daniel says, running his hand over the control panel. “Hmm, he’s quite content here. I don’t think he really notices the passage of time.”

  “That’s good,” Rebecca says shaking her head. “I can’t imagine spending both life and death operating a stupid elevator.”

  A bing sounds inside the elevator, and the doors slide open. I follow my friends down a long, dim hallway. Each door we pass is painted bright red to match the ornate red and gold carpet. Electric sconces hang on the walls at even intervals. If they flickered just a bit, I could almost imagine it being one hundred years ago. We stop in front of a door with 208 on it in gold numbers. Before Daniel can put the key card in the lock, a maid appears rushing down the hall toward us.

  “Oh, I think you have the wrong room,” she says, her breathing ragged from running just a short distance.

  “Nope, 208 is the room we’re looking for,” Rebecca replies in a cheerful tone. “We’re paranormal investigators. It’s been cleared with management.”

  “Oh, I see,” she says, shaking her head as though she disagrees. “I tried cleaning in there earlier and the TV remote flew across the room and hit me in the head.” She glances around the hallway. “Where’s your camera crew? Am I going to be on TV?” she asks while fluffing her graying hair.

  “I’m terribly sorry but we are academic investigators, not entertainers,” Logan says with a hard edge to his voice. “These spirits are people just like you and me and don’t deserve to be exploited.”

  “It threw a remote at me!” the maid says with her hands on her hips.

  “We’re here to try to convince the spirit to move on to the next plane,” Daniel says as he swipes the keycard through the lock. “With any luck, you’ll never have to deal with her again.”

  When he opens the door, a musty, stale smell wafts out. After one last fearful glance at the room, the maid scurries away in silence. I take a deep breath, choking a bit on the heavy air. Even without entering the room I can tell a spirit is here. An unhappy spirit based on the vibes rolling out the door.

  “Wow, the hairs are standing up on my neck,” Rebecca whispers. “Is that the ghost?”

  “Yeah, she’s not happy to be disturbed,” Logan replies before crossing the threshold. “Rebecca, you can stay out here if you prefer.”

  “No way in hell am I missing this,” Rebecca says, her body shaking in excitement or fear, maybe both.

  Logan holds his hand out to me. My stomach does a little flip as I place my hand in his. He laces our fingers together and pulls me into the room. Static electricity crackles around us, making my hair fly in all directions. Through the veil of hair, I see an apparition so solid she looks alive. Her yellow sundress is in tatters, torn at the shoulder and hem. Vivid red stains mar the sunny expanse of ripped cloth across her stomach.

  Blood.

  “Do you see her?” I ask in a breathless whisper.

  “Yes,” Logan replies, squeezing my hand. “Talk to her. Maybe she’ll listen to you. I think you two have something in common.”

  “Okay,” I murmur, my eyes never leaving the girl.

  Energy thrums along my arms, raising every hair. Releasing Logan’s hand, I walk toward the girl, watching in fascination as her long, dark hair flies around her. Her eyes are inky pools with no white visible. All in all, I think she’s one of the most terrifying apparitions I’ve ever seen in appearance. And yet, I sense only intense sorrow coming off her in undulating waves. This spirit is suffering terribly. She watches me as I lower my body to sit on the edge of the king-size bed. I fold my hands in my lap, trying to appear as innocuous as possible.

  “Tell me your story,” I say to the spirit girl. “You’re suffering. I can help. Please share your story with me.”

  “You would never understand the pain I have experienced at the hands of the woman who was supposed to provide care and nurture,” the spirit replies, turning away.

  “You might be surprised,” I say in a calm, even tone. “Did your mother hurt you?”

  “Yes.” Though she doesn’t elaborate, she does turn back to face me.

  “My mother hurt me deeply,” I tell the ghost. My nose begins to burn which means the tears aren’t far behind. “Maybe not physically but mental anguish can be bad too. Just three days ago she reopened old wounds. My heart hurts just thinking about it.”

  “Truly?” the girl asks, tipping her head to the side as though she’s contemplating my words.

  “I know what betrayal feels like,” I reply with a deep sigh. “Tell me your story. You don’t belong here anymore. There’s no need to suffer like this. Please, let me help you.”

  “My mother wed my stepfather when I was thirteen,” she says in a soft voice. The energy in the room spikes then dims when her shoulders sag. “Within a fortnight he was visiting me in the dead of night. He did things to me. Things that should only occur between a husband and wife. Horrible things—”

  She shudders, crossing her arms over her chest. I don’t say anything… just wait for her to continue her tale. Her eyes meet mine, filled with tears, and I want nothing more than to hold her, to soothe her. She couldn’t be any older than I am. Without thinking I reach out to touch her shoulder, but my hand passes through her phantom image. I snatch my hand back, cradling my freezing fingers against my stomach.

  “He visited me weekly for two years—threatened me with violence if I ever told a soul. Threatened to kill my m-mother.” She chokes the words out through gut-wrenching sobs. “One night my mother walked in while he was using my body…”

  “What happened?” I ask when she remains silent.

  “He told her I seduced him, that I was possessed by a succubus from Hell,” she says, flinging her arms around. Tendrils of icy wind billow from her fingertip
s. “She believed him. They locked me up in this very room.”

  “I don’t understand,” I murmur, looking at Logan. “Why would they lock her up here?”

  “This building was once used as a facility for tuberculosis patients,” Logan replies. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It was also used to hide the less desirable people from society.”

  “I was with child.”

  “Oh, I see. I’m so sorry,” I say as tears spill over my eyelashes.

  The monster got her pregnant and locked her away where she wouldn’t be a nuisance. I look at the red stains all over her dress. There’s still more to this story.

  “Mother found out about the baby,” she says in a whisper. “She screamed that it was demon spawn and must be removed no matter the cost. She stabbed the baby through my belly. Over and over. Screaming. So much pain.”

  “What’s your name?” Logan asks as he approaches inch by inch, like he’s afraid she’ll flee.

  “Maria.”

  “Maria, you’ve suffered enough,” I say, rising from the bed. “None of this was your fault. You are a victim and did nothing to deserve it. Move on to the next plane.”

  “Will my baby be there?”

  “I don’t know,” Logan says when I can’t find my voice. “But there’s only one way to find out. I’m sure whatever you find there must be better than the pain you feel here.”

  “I can go?”

  “Yes,” I say, firm and sure. “Rest in peace, Maria.”

  My heart leaps when a tiny smile crosses her face. She stares off into the distance, perhaps seeing something we can’t. Whatever she sees makes her smile grow larger. Her image flickers and begins to fade away. Right before she disappears, she waves goodbye.

  “You did it!” Logan says, pulling me into a hug.

  Tears flow down my cheeks. Wrapping my arms around his back, I rest my head on his shoulder. I can’t help but smile through the tears. Helping Maria was fantastic. She suffered for so long, and I was the one who was able to get through to her. Right now my ability seems more a blessing than a curse.