Ghouls Gone Wild

by Victoria Laurie

“Huh?” Gopher said, his brow furrowed.

  I smiled, thinking about how to best explain it. “Say I’m doing a reading for you,” I said, mentally turning on my sixth sense and hoping the ibuprofen didn’t get too much in the way, “and I’m trying to pick up on your deceased relatives. The first clue they’ll give me about who they are is a physical sensation associated with their crossing. For example, I know that connected to you there was an older man, right above you, who is making my heart beat a little harder. At this very moment, I feel a slight acceleration of my heart, and I’m pretty sure this man is indicating he had an issue with his heart. There is also a younger female connected to this male who is making me feel a little off-kilter—like a sickness of some kind, and I think it’s related to something like cancer. I get the names Bill or William and Ellen or Helen.”

  Gopher’s jaw dropped. “Whoa!” he whispered.

  I smiled. “I want to say that the heart-issue guy was a father figure. . . .” I paused for a second as I felt out the female and was surprised when I realized that she must be Gopher’s sister. “Your sister died of cancer?”

  Gopher nodded, his eyes wide and unblinking. “My older sister had leukemia. She died when I was seventeen. Within six months the strain of her death caused my dad to have a heart attack and he died on the operating table when they were doing the bypass surgery.”

  I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Gopher. I had no idea.”

  “It was a tough year for the family.”

  “Your dad is very proud of you,” I told him as the older man I’d brought through began to pat me gently on the back. “He also wants to know when you’re going to get around to making that movie.”

  Gopher laughed, but there was moisture in his eyes. “He does, does he?” I nodded. Gopher saw that we were all waiting for him to explain what his father meant, so he elaborated. “I wrote this screenplay in college and I always wanted to try and get it made, but over the years the timing never felt right or I was busy with other projects.”

  “Give it two years,” I told him, continuing to pass on the message from his dad, “and the project will be given the green light.”

  Gopher beamed like I’d just told him he’d soon win the Lotto. “Thanks, M. J.”

  “Sure,” I said, closing the connection and turning us back to the previous discussion. “So, Heath took on the physical attributes of the bubonic plague down in the close. That means that we’re dealing with some seriously intense energy, guys.”

  “Do you think that if Heath had stayed down there longer that the symptoms could have physically caused him to die?” Gil asked.

  I glanced at Heath and he shook his head. “I think that it went as far as it was going to,” he said. “At the very worst it would have just made me miserable for a while until my energy started to push back.”

  Our food arrived and we all took a minute to dive into our breakfast, which was greasy and flavorful, just the way I liked it. “So let’s talk about these ghostly witches,” Gopher said after everyone had eaten a little.

  “Scariest thing I’ve ever seen,” Heath admitted with a meaningful look at me. “I think they beat the serpent hands down.”

  Several weeks prior, Heath and I had encountered an awful, demonic serpentlike spirit that had attacked us pretty regularly over the course of several days until we’d managed to contain it. Its portal exit—a dagger—was now bound by two pounds of magnets, and locked in an iron safe back at my office.

  I didn’t know if Rigella and her crew were worse than that, but I knew I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of finding out.

  “I never got a good look at them,” I said. “What’d they look like?”

  Gilley shuddered. “They were like nothing I’ve ever seen, M. J. They were shadow spooks, no clear definition of features or anything detailed, but they sort of left a trail of black smoke when they were in motion.”

  “Ectoplasm?” I asked.

  Gil shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “But it was more than that—they sort of moved in this really menacing way. The lead spook was clearly on the hunt and knew exactly what we were up to. I kept getting the feeling like when she was in front of the camera, she was peering through it at me. I swear the temperature in the van dipped below normal.”

  Gopher nodded vigorously. “You’re right, dude!” he said. “I felt it too.”

  I took another bite of food and thought about what they were telling us. “Considering how creepy these things were, I really have to hand it to you, Gil, for coming to our rescue.” In my heart I knew how much courage Gilley would have had to muster to make his way down to us.

  He beamed at me and puffed out his bulky sweatshirt. “I couldn’t very well leave you guys alone down there. You two were getting your asses kicked.”

  Heath looked at me with a curious glint in his eye. “Actually, about thirty seconds before you showed up, M. J. managed to get a spike out of the canister and that stopped the attack.”

  Heath mentioning that made me think back to that moment when I’d had the wind knocked out of me and I’d heard that voice coaxing me to breathe and get the lid off the grenade. “You know what, Heath?”

  “What?”

  “I believe your grandfather was the one who actually came to our rescue.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “I heard a voice telling me to take a breath and get it together, and it was the same voice that I’d heard from your grandfather in my OBE earlier this afternoon.”

  “I still can’t get over the fact that you got physically injured during a dream,” Gopher told me. “I mean, that just freaks me out!”

  When Gopher had taken one look at me at dinner, he’d demanded to know how I’d managed a split lip and a black eye, and I’d done my best to explain my out-of-body experience to him. He’d made me recite it all in front of the camera, of course, and he’d punctuated the story with plenty of breathy gasps and exclamations, which I assumed were solely to ratchet up the drama for the television-viewing audience.

  “Speaking of freaked-out,” Gil said, “what’s the deal with Jake and Russ?”

  Gopher swore and his face turned angry. “Those assholes,” he said. “They quit and refused to consider coming back. As far as I know, they’re booked on the first plane back to the States in the morning.”

  “Are you going to get us some replacements?”

  “I’ve already sent my administrative assistant back home a text. We’ve got to hire our crew from the union, so it may take a day or two to get some new guys out here.”

  “That’ll give us time to find some added protection,” Heath said.

  “What kind of protection?” Gopher asked.

  I polished off the last bite of eggs and potatoes before answering him. “We’re thinking we may want to find some crystals or charms to wear while we’re in the close.”

  Gopher looked skeptically at me. “You think wearing a piece of quartz will keep the evil spirits at bay?”

  “It’s all about finding the right charm or crystal,” Heath told him. “You have to remember that, on the spiritual plane, thought drives everything. So if you can find the right crystal to absorb a powerful thought of protection, it can go a long way to protecting you from bad energies.”

  “Sounds like a bunch of voodoo black magic to me.”

  “It actually works on much the same principle,” I told him seriously. “Only, in black magic, the thoughts that the charms are absorbing are negative which is what can potentially make them harmful.”

  Gilley gave me a quizzical look. “You believe in voodoo?”

  I smiled. I had a reputation for being somewhat skeptical of outlandish claims of hexes and spells, so I could understand why he was calling me out. “To a degree,” I conceded. “I mean, I don’t think a charm exists that can take someone’s life, but I do believe that the right charm can call forth a good spirit or a bad. I mean, we saw that ourselves with the knife we’ve got locked up in our safe back in Boston.”

  “Good point,” Gil said with a yawn and a sleepy glance toward the window, where the first hint of dawn w
as beginning to turn the black of night a smoky lavender. “Man, I’m beat.”

  “Me too,” Heath said.

  “Me three,” Gopher agreed.

  “Okay, boys,” I said. “Let’s pay the check and get back to the inn for some shut-eye. We can go in search of charms and added protection later. I also want to do a little more research on Rigella and her back-story.”

  “That’s mine,” Gil said, raising his hand. “I’ll do some digging later on today after I get some sleep.”

  On that note, we laid some money on the table, and headed back to the inn. When I got to my room, I noticed a new message on my cell phone. It was from Steven. “Hello, M. J.,” he said, his voice a teensy bit terse. In the background I could hear someone paging a Dr. Williams. He must have been calling me from the hospital. “Can you call me, please? I have not heard from you since you landed in Scotland.”

  I clicked off the voice mail and stared at the phone. I was exhausted, and didn’t really need the guilt trip. For the record I’d left him a message the minute I’d landed. So, technically, I hadn’t heard from him.

  With a sigh I hit the speed dial and he answered on the third ring. “Hi,” he said warmly. “How’s the busting?”

  I sighed tiredly. I wasn’t really in the mood to recap everything. “It’s going,” I said. “How’re you?”

  “Fine. Busy. You know. They have me on double shifts right now.”

  “Ah,” I said, struggling for something to say, but only an awkward silence filled the airwaves.

  “How’s the weather over there?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers. Was this what our relationship had come down to? Talking about the weather? “Cold and damp. How about for you?”

  “The same.” In the background I heard a page for Dr. Sable. He must still be at the hospital.

  “That’s me,” he said. “I have to go.”

  “Okay,” I said, relieved to have an excuse to end the conversation. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bye,” he said, and hung up.

  I sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, just looking at my phone. He hadn’t even said, “Love you.” And I tried to think back to the last time either one of us had said that to the other, and I couldn’t remember. It hadn’t been recently, that’s for sure.

  With a sigh I got up and set the phone on the charger, vowing to think about it later. All I wanted to do for the next few hours was sleep.

  Later that afternoon, Gil, Heath, and I all gathered down in the sitting room to meet up with Kim and John, whom Gil had texted about finding us a shop in town that might specialize in crystals or charms used to thwart evil spirits. I knew also that Gopher had filled Kim and John in on what had happened in the close, so I was fairly confident that they knew what to look for.

  “We found the perfect shop!” Kim sang happily.

  I shivered a little in the pervasive damp chill that seemed to invade every nook and cranny of the drizzly Scottish village, and asked, “Where?”

  “Miss Lancaster’s Crystal Emporium,” Kim said. “It’s located right here in the village, in fact. John and I have just come from there, and look!” Kim extended her hand and several very pretty varieties of quartz and agate sparkled in her hand. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”

  I laughed. She was just so enthusiastic that I found her delightful. “They’re beautiful,” I agreed. “Can you take us there?”

  John held up a set of car keys. “Whenever you guys are ready.”

  It took less than five minutes to make our way to Miss Lancaster’s, and when we arrived, I could see that the place had real appeal. The exterior was exactly like what you would picture a quaint European shop should look like: almost like a gingerbread house with plenty of white trim, cute wooden shutters, and a bright blue door with a lovely floral wreath. There was even a picket fence surrounding a small rose garden.

  “I love it,” I said as we walked through the gate and up the short walk.

  “Wait until you see the inside,” Kim told me. I stepped through the door after her and came up short.

  As an intuitive I’m acutely sensitive to crystals. When I hold one, especially one that’s large in size, I can feel it sort of vibrating or humming on the edges of my energy. It’s an incredibly cool sensation, and sometimes I’ll get near a particularly powerful crystal and feel like I’m floating up, up, and away. There are also crystals that pull me down, or ground me, and I might have the sensation of feeling heavy.

  In an environment like the one we stepped through when we entered Miss Lancaster’s, it was a mixture of all these sensations, but heightened to an intense degree. Mostly due to the quality and abundance of crystals gleaming from every surface, shelf, corner, and countertop.

  The place was a feast for the eyes, a rainbow of color really. There were amethyst cathedrals five feet tall, rose quartz lamps, white selenite wands, blue agate beads, and on and on and on. Everywhere I looked, bright humming energy washed over me. I glanced at Heath, and he seemed equally spellbound.

  “Cool!” he said when he caught my eye.

  “Totally,” I agreed, stepping forward to explore further. “We should definitely be able to find a few crystals in here to help mitigate some of the effects of the spooks. Remember, we’re looking for stuff that’s grounding, so if you hold it in your hand and you feel heavier or weighed down, that’s going to be a good choice.”

  “Got it,” he said, eyeing a cluster of fluorite crystals on the far side of the store. I myself moved immediately over to the collection of amethyst cathedrals that were arranged from smallest to largest. The smallest was about two feet tall, and intensely purple, and the biggest was large enough for me to sit in. I couldn’t resist the urge to recharge my intuitive batteries, especially after getting beaten up in the spiritual realm the previous night, so I carefully squatted down and eased myself to a sitting position inside the cathedral.

  I closed my eyes and just absorbed the energy. “Hummmmm . . . ,” I sang softly.

  “Having fun, are you?” asked a light voice with a distinct brogue.

  My eyes snapped open. A plump-looking woman with rosy cheeks and straw-colored hair smiled happily down at me.

  “I’m so sorry!” I said, moving quickly out of the cathedral. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

  The woman waved her hand lightly. “Oh, puff that,” she said with a grin. “Of course you’re welcome to sit in the cathedral. That’s what it’s there for, after all. And as long as you’re careful not to break it, I’ll hardly mind.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “You have an amazing store.”

  “You like it?”

  “Are you kidding?” I asked. “It’s wonderful! The energy here is just . . . whoa, you know?”

  She eyed me critically. “Are you sensitive, lass?”

  I furrowed my brow. “Am I what?”

  “Sensitive,” she said. “You know, can you really feel the energy in here?”

  I laughed, understanding what she meant. “Yes, actually. I am.” I then got up and extended my hand to her. “I’m M. J., and I’m a psychic medium.”

  The woman nodded, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. “Bonnie Lancaster. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

  “M. J.!” Heath called from across the shop. “Come here! You’ve got to feel these!”

  Bonnie looked at Heath. “Don’t tell me,” she said with a wink. “He’s also a medium?”

  I grinned. “He is. We came here because we were down in the close last night, and met up with some nasty energy. We’re trying to find some protective crystals or charms to take with us the next time we go down.”

  Bonnie looked alarmed. “What kind of nasty energy did you encounter, then?”

  Out the corner of my eye I saw Heath pick his head up again, probably to see where I was, and spotting me, he began to walk over. “Well,” I said, “I believe we encountered some spirit who thinks she’s a witch. I suppose she didn’t like the fact that Heath—my partner—and I were down there, so she chased after us.”

  Bonnie’s expression turned f
rom alarm to abject fear. “Witch, did you say?”

  I nodded just as Heath came up next to me. “Hello,” he said cordially. “Are you the owner?”

  Bonnie’s eyes swiveled to him. “Did you see her too?” she asked without answering his question.

  “See who?”

  “The spirit of the witch in the close last night,” I explained.

  “Oh!” Heath said. “Yeah. There were three altogether and they chased us clear to the opposite exit. I believe the main witch’s name is Rigella. She’s pretty intense!”

  “Oh, my,” said Bonnie. “Oh, my, oh, my!”

  “You’ve heard about her?” I asked.

  Bonnie fidgeted with a small crystal necklace about her neck. “Yes, of course,” she said. “Everyone’s heard of the Witch of Queen’s Close. And we all know she’ll return someday, but she’s thirty-five years early!”

  “What do you know about her?” Heath asked.

  Bonnie’s hand flew across her chest in the sign of the cross. “She’s a wicked one, that witch,” she said.

  “And if you really did encounter her, then I daresay none of my clan is safe round here.”

  I blinked. “I’m sorry, but why would your clan be in danger, exactly?”

  “Well, because of the curse, of course.”

  Heath and I exchanged a look. “Curse?” we said together.

  Bonnie nodded. “You’ve not heard of it?”

  “No,” Heath said.

  Bonnie moved away from the cathedrals and over to a counter where Kim was peering intently at a group of earrings. We followed the shop owner, waiting for her to explain. “Can I see those?” Kim asked innocently.

  Bonnie forced a smile and opened the case, pulling out the earrings and handing them to Kim. She then motioned us over to a second counter and began whispering. “Over three hundred and fifty years ago when the village of Queen’s Close was being encroached upon by the ever-expanding city of Edinburgh, a terrible plague set itself against almost all the inhabitants of the city and the village. People were desperate, you see, because this particular plague spread so quickly and attacked everyone from the lowliest urchins to the wealthiest noblemen. No one was safe. No one, that is, except one particular family.