"I understand. Of course, you have to do what's best for you. And the money and house would be enough incentive for almost anyone, even if love wasn't involved." He shot a quelling look at Carson, but to his surprise, she looked more thoughtful than disgusted. He wondered if something April had said had gotten through to the girl, because Carson remained uncharacteristically quiet for the remainder of the meeting.
April relaxed and shot him a grateful look. "Thanks for understanding, Pr-Ben. This isn't easy, at all. None of it has been, really."
Jerome, not the talker of the group, had said nothing until now, but he was nothing, if not professional. "So, what's this going to mean going forward? I mean, how's it going to affect things around here?" he asked neutrally.
April tugged her hair over one shoulder and began playing with it, twisting the long strands around her hands idly as she explained, "Well, to start with, she's not allowing me to hide in the bathroom. She wants everything on camera, as visible as possible." She gnawed on her bottom lip and then made herself go on. "Graphic sex, and the, uh, kinky stuff. She wants variety, not just bedroom stuff but all over." Her cheeks had been slowly suffusing with red, but now the blush glowed like a sunset over her tan skin.
She snuck a look at Carson, waiting for the snide remarks, but the girl said nothing and her expression was unreadable. Oddly, it wasn't comforting to April; she'd almost counted on the predictability of the girl's attitude and it threw her off guard. She stammered a few syllables before she got into the flow again. "S-so, b-basically, John and I just got cast in the paranormal version of a porno, and since he's invisible, well. Yeah. It's mostly going to be me."
"Holy shit," Jerome muttered, eyes widening as he shook his head. She flinched, thinking he was judging her, but no. "Damn, you've got more courage than me. Talk about stage fright," he said with a sound that was half laugh, half snort.
"I'm not entirely sure how well I'm going to do, but John wasn't exactly thrilled I agreed to her new terms without talking to him and it led to some pretty graphic stuff in the kitchen. Exactly the kind of stuff she wants," she added guiltily. "I wiped everything down with bleach," she added hastily. She had taken care of that this morning as she paced the kitchen and stalled making that phone call.
"You talk about the entity, John, as though he was alive. Does he feel alive to you?" Ben asked with interest. With him, things always tended to curve back towards his research, though he had the grace to look embarrassed as he quickly clarified, "I mean emotionally, mentally." After a long pause, he couldn't resist adding, "But I'd like more details about the physical sensation, as well."
She almost laughed, but he couldn't help it. "He's as real to me as any of you. Physically, he's normal. I can feel and hear his heart beating. His chest moves as he breathes. He doesn't have to, of course, but he said it's a habit. He blinks, his skin is warm." She shrugged, not sure what other criteria there was to share. Obviously, they knew he could perform sexually.
The professor had taken out a small notebook and was making notes. "But, originally, he seemed less alive, correct?" he asked. They were going over old ground now. She'd described some of the differences to the professor during previous briefings but the man did tend to repeat his questions, probably looking for consistency.
She nodded as she thought back to her first contact with John. "His skin was colder. Not corpse cold but like he'd been outside on a cold day. And he was paler. There were probably other things but I wasn't watching for them, and it wasn't long before he became more…more…" Unsure of the word, she gestured vaguely until she settled for "normal".
They had discussed this already, and she'd told him John's explanation, that being close to the living charged the dead batteries of the spirits, so to speak. The more time he spent with her, the harder it would be to distinguish him from a live man, and truthfully, she rarely noticed anything otherworldly about him now, unless he did something ghostly on purpose.
"We really do need to plan some experiments," he replied. There was a look of quiet awe on his face, to be so close to what he dreamed of accomplishing. It was all within his grasp, the proof he needed to establish himself at the forefront of his field. "And I'd like to talk to John, with you as interpreter, of course," he added.
"I'm sure he won't mind," she said confidently. She'd asked John about Marlowe's interest before, and he had seemed amenable to a discussion.
"Good. Well, now that we've discussed the situation, it's time to view the footage from last night. Carson, get started on the EVP, if you please. Jerome, the tapes, but save the kitchen. I want to view it together, after the morning debriefing with Miss Cassidy." He slipped easily into his teacher persona and, just like that, April became Miss Cassidy, and she could go back to calling him Professor Marlowe on the record, so everything looked professional. The session was fairly easy, considering the sensitive nature of the story she had to tell. She'd already given them an advanced warning of the graphic events in the kitchen and that made it easier to fill in the details on camera.
When they were alone, he reached to start the camera and then paused. After a long hesitation, his hand dropped away and he turned his focus back to her. "Before we get started, you're a smart young lady, and you have the ability to do things that I couldn't even imagine. I'm grateful for the work you've done here; it's opened doors that I never dreamed—" He stopped and shook his head. "I'll be writing about this month for years to come. At least one book, maybe two, just from what I've seen so far."
April sat back, hands folded in her lap, looking far more relaxed than she actually was, unless you noticed the damp spots where she'd wiped her hands. "You're welcome, Professor. I wasn't sure I could do this. I wasn't sure I even wanted to try. If I hadn't needed the money, I probably would have turned down the offer," she admitted with a slight shrugging of her shoulders.
He laughed. "I can't blame you for that. I'd have taken the money, too." His face sobered as he continued, blue eyes looking concerned. "I can't help feeling that you were tricked. Agreeing to have the data used for scientific research and to have the basic story of your experience used in a video game is one thing. What they are asking of you, now, is, quite frankly, way beyond reasonable. You understand that I have no say in that aspect of your contract?"
"I know. Really, I don't blame you at all, Ben. Elizabeth is—" She paused as she struggled with the words to describe her temporary employer. "She is driven and competitive. I don't know if she was always like this or if it's just her career, but she's going to make this happen. I figured I'd better give in early so I could negotiate better terms, rather than wait to be forced into it."
"Hmm, well, at least you're getting something more out of it," he said with a sigh. He fiddled with his tie, tugging at it thoughtfully as he examined her. "Jerome said he told you about the attorney?"
"Mr. Bruebeker? Yeah." There was a hint of anger as she bit off the word and then a pause before she continued, "I really dislike that man. I feel gross just being in the same room with him."
"I can't say I feel much different, to be honest," the professor replied. "It's funny; he wasn't like that the first time I met him. When he came to us about the proposal, he seemed quite pleasant." He frowned, thinking about it. "I get the idea that he's a bit obsessed with you, and I worry about you being here alone with him."
She nodded and then surprised him by grinning. "I'm never really alone in this house, though. Now that I know John can show up, even in the daytime, I'm a lot less worried. You've seen how, uh, physical he is, when he wants to be," she said delicately. Physical enough to bend her over the table and slap her ass until it was throbbing and sore was left unsaid.
"True," he said doubtfully. A ghost protecting a mortal against another mortal was somewhat beyond his understanding, but if she had faith in John, he wasn't going to challenge it. He had one more thing to say, though, and it was extremely hard for him. His need to study and research was second only to his own sense of ethics and
that was being challenged by this situation. "April, I'm not sure it will help, but if you don't want to continue with this, I will inform them that we're pulling out of the project. Removing our equipment could delay her plans enough to—"
She was completely astounded that he'd even make the offer but cut him off firmly, "No. No, Ben. Thanks for the offer. I know that couldn't have been easy for you, but no. It wouldn't delay her more than a few days. She'd have new equipment installed in under a week, and I doubt she'd bother to find another paranormal group to get involved at this point. The whole project would just be about sex after that, nothing but filming ghost porn." She took a deep breath and shook her head firmly. "At least, this way, there's actual research being done. Who knows how much you'll learn in the time we've got left?"
He couldn't help looking relieved. He'd had to make the offer and he'd have done it if she asked him to, but following through would have been a terrible blow to his career. "You're probably correct," he agreed. He reached towards the camera, and after confirming she was ready, switched it on.
He went through the usual procedure, first introducing himself and noting the date and time of the interview. Then he introduced her and asked her to begin with their departure on the previous day. The day had been unusual, since it had been her first excursion from the house, but what happened outside wasn't relevant except for how it had affected the scene in the kitchen. She certainly wasn't going to go on film spilling Elizabeth's plans so she glossed over the whole thing, mentioning only that they had discussed changes to the format of the investigation.
"When John appeared in the kitchen at sunset, I told him that I'd agreed to some changes, and he was angry that things hadn't been discussed with him." She flushed, shifting in her seat nervously as she went on to describe the quarrel which had led to being bent over the table and spanked. She felt no need to be terribly descriptive about that since they'd see it all on the film.
The professor had questions about her account, which was normal. He'd made notes as she told the story and now flipped back through them. "So, the entity that you call John, you've obviously grown attached to him and earlier expressed love, correct?"
"Yes," she admitted.
"Do you have a sense that he also experiences normal human emotions?"
"Yes, absolutely. He feels love, anger, sadness, all of it," she assured him.
"And you've said he's aware of the year; that time has passed since his death?"
April nodded. "Oh, yeah, definitely. He said, when the house was empty, he spent hours watching television to try and catch up with the times."
That seemed to shock the professor and, for a second, he was silent, lost in thought. A ghost trying to educate himself? He'd never heard of such a thing. "I imagine that must be confusing for him. Such a gap in years between the time of his death and now. How would you say he deals with it?"
These questions seemed to be more along the lines of psychology than parapsychology, and she wondered why he was interested, but answered readily, "I think, at times, things are strange. He has a fairly good grasp of where the world is but, when it comes to how people have changed, that seems more difficult for him."
"I see; do you think that explains the spanking?" He struggled to keep his professional tone, but Dr. Marlowe's face showed his embarrassment.
"Um, I mean, that's part of it. He's old fashioned, and he was going on instinct the first night in the kitchen. I think without someone in the house, he'd kind of drifted, and when he found me there, he reverted to how he would have behaved in his own time." She hesitated because this next part wasn't something she fully understood herself and she wasn't sure how to explain it. "He didn't actually seem to know what year it was that night. Like, when he was alone in the house, he lost track. He seemed annoyed I wasn't wearing skirts then, but he's definitely aware of how modern women dress so I think he was just confused, at first."
John had mentioned something else that night, though she couldn't remember the exact words now. After he'd apologized for scaring her, he'd said something about how he hadn't realized she was the one. Of course, that had meant nothing to her at the time, but later she'd learned that he'd been expecting a female medium who might possibly become his mate, as part of his deal with the owner of the house.
"Interesting," Professor Marlowe said, making a note. "I suppose it makes sense, with being trapped in this house for so many years, things would blur together without an outside influence. I wonder if the television helped stabilize his sense of time," he mused.
April shrugged, it hadn't come up in conversation. "I'm not sure, but I think the television has only been available to him for the past year or two. I mean, prior to that, this place was abandoned. Whenever Elizabeth first started the renovations, I'd guess, is when he got a chance to learn about the modern world. I don't think a year of learning can entirely fix all the time alone," she said.
"Good point. I do wonder if he's reached his capacity for change or if he'll continue to learn and grow like a living person does throughout their life," he commented.
"I hope so! We discussed how women aren't used to being controlled by men anymore, and he understands it but—" She paused, nervously gnawing on her bottom lip.
"But?"
"But, well, he likes being in charge. He thinks he has a right to punish," she explained.
"Ah. So, would you say that some of his behavior is related to being raised in a different time, but some was due to a fetish for spanking and discipline?" Ben asked, a look of intense interest in his eyes.
"Yes, I think so. He understands that he can't expect me to do what he says just because I'm a woman, and he understands women are supposed to be treated as equals now. But we agreed that I would be submissive because he likes it and—" She turned her head, avoiding the camera as she felt her cheeks getting hot again. "I do, too," she said after a brief pause.
He made some notes—a lot of notes. The pen scratched frantically across the paper, sounding loud in the quiet room. "Thank you for your honesty, Ms. Cassidy. I know it's difficult for you to speak about private things like this, especially on camera. Why don't we move on and discuss the rest of the day?" he suggested.
It took her a minute to pull her scattered thoughts back together and then she gave a brief overview of the evening. Very little of interest had happened after the scene in the kitchen, at least in terms of what she was willing to share with him. They had scant privacy and what they did have, she kept quiet. One positive thing she'd discovered, just the night before, gave her hope that they were getting a little more privacy than she'd realized, though she had no way to prove if it was true or not yet.
In addition to the cameras, there were recording devices scattered around the house to pick up electronic voice phenomenon. They were finely tuned to pick up even a whisper but, last night, John had told her, musing while they soaked in the generously sized bathtub, that he thought he could make them less effective. Ghosts had a way of messing with electronics to begin with, which is why the equipment in the house had gone spotty so often before her arrival.
Since she'd moved in, however, it had been nothing but perfect recordings. It turned out she had John to thank for that, as well. "Well, there's hardly any point to them being here with their spying eyes, if they can't record," he'd pointed out smugly. "But before you came, I would push energy through them until they stopped working. It was amusing to watch them get so upset about it," he said.
She'd scowled, realizing that he could easily have kept her embarrassment from being shown on camera many times but hadn't. The conversation had moved back to the voice recording before she could complain about it, which was only fair since she'd started it with a question.
Marlowe was still stubbornly refusing to let her watch any footage she wasn't the star of, and that extended to the EVP recordings. He said that, until she was no longer the subject of the investigation, it could compromise the data. But she'd heard Carson complaining loudly to
Jerome. "I don't get it. The audio's always perfect at first and then it goes to shit whenever she starts talking out loud," she'd said to her partner.
Apparently, they picked up nearly every sound in the house, from the hum of the fridge to the voices on the television, but whenever she started to talk, the recording quality would begin cutting in and out. She hadn't realized it since they never had the sound playing during the few times she'd been called in to watch footage. Except once—when they'd replayed the sexual dream encounter for her—the sound had certainly been on, and it had definitely recorded perfectly, but she wasn't talking to John then. She was just moaning graphically in her sleep.
The rest of the video footage she'd seen had been muted, so she'd had no idea how much of her talks with John they were able to decipher. Inside the bathroom, of course, there were no electronics and she could speak freely, but elsewhere in the house, she'd tried to be careful of how she phrased things, assuming it would all be heard—at least in the beginning, but she'd be less worried now.
"I'm not certain. I know that the machines can pick up a ghost's voice when it speaks, but only if it chooses to be heard. If you record a spirit speaking, you can be sure that it wanted you to do so. I choose my words to be heard only by you, but I'm not actively trying to keep their machines from recording the things you say. I suppose I could, if you'd like me to. After all, you agreed to be more visible on camera, not more audible," John said.
That was true enough so far as she could recall, besides, bad sound quality couldn't be blamed on her. "Yes, please! At least we can talk outside the bathroom without them hearing every word," she said excitedly.
He'd shrugged and settled back in the tub; the movement hadn't displaced the water at all. "It's probably easy enough since it's been happening already, unwilled, so I should be able to distort the sound more consistently. Only when we speak of private matters, though," he warned her. She guessed that meant they'd still get to hear her moan during sex, but still, it was one small victory. She wished she'd known about the possibility earlier.
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