doorway, pulled it open and looked into the hallway. I caught a fast glimpse of Max turning down the hallway. I paused at the threshold, an uneasy feeling growing in my belly. Pushing it aside, I continued to follow.
The once-empty hallway suddenly filled with all manner of spirits. And like a cavalry charge, they rushed straight for me. Instinctively, I crouched, knowing full well that the position would do no good against the ghosts. The cold slime of ghost plasma oozed along my body as the entities swarmed. Swatting them was useless. They began to slam into me, their combined force so great that I fell backward and sprawled on the floor.
Looking up, I saw more entities swirling above me. They looked almost like translucent people, but they were horrific. What used to be flesh was rotting off their bones. Coarse hair, sparse but wild, was floating around heads that were little more than skulls patched with skin that hadn't yet rotted out. Their sockets were dark voids. Looking into those eyes was like looking into a frightening abyss. I caught the foul stench of death as one of them exhaled too close to me.
Seven of them nose-dived right at me. I tried to roll to avoid impact, but these things were quick. They crashed into my chest and stomach, trying to find their way into my psyche but unable for some reason. Several bounced off, but three remained stuck like suction cups. I felt their ooze creep around my body as octopus-like tendrils wrapped themselves around my torso, binding my hands and plastering me to the floor.
The largest ghost hovered just above, his rank breath skimming my face. He unzipped my leather jacket and, finding exposed skin, he whipped a tendril down onto it, searing my skin. I yelped, a mix of surprise and agony. He was freezer-burning my skin! A second hit and I could feel blisters start to well up. Crap.
I kicked out at the poltergeists and, of course, hit nothing but air. I felt another slam of ice on my chest, my skin pulling away as he whipped the tendril off. Another ghost began to snake its ghostly appendages over my face. Its fingers felt like razor blades slicing into my skin. Blood began to drip down my face.
I had never encountered malevolent ghosts before. Hell, I had never actually seen a ghost manifested until Casper in the hospital. Now I was seeing them everywhere. I had no idea how I was going to get out of this mess. God I hated the Biltmore.
Just when I thought it could not get any worse, I felt another hit of cold plasma, and this time the ooze dropped right into my psyche. My nerves went into overdrive when I felt the sharp pain in my head. Then a familiar voice echoed in my ear.
Casper sounded a little panicked. "What the hell did you do this time?"
I never imagined I would ever feel such relief at the familiar migraine that exploded in my head. "Help me," I panted, forcing the words out. Between the poltergeists cutting and searing into me like prime beef, and my ghost-induced headache kicking in, I wasn't in the mood to explain myself.
"Trying!" Casper wheezed out. He handled possessing me about as well as I handled being possessed. God I hoped he could help.
Casper tried to push my eyes down. "Hey!" I protested.
"Trust me," he pushed again, and, sensing his exasperation, I grudgingly clamped my eyes closed.
Then, Casper took over my mind's eye, and I saw his brooding image clearly. His arms were moving in quick but elegant patterns. My arms, completely out of my control, followed his movements. Faintly, he muttered words I could not make out, the pace of our arms quickening. Energy swirled around him, and he raised his chiseled face towards it. His dark skin glowed and his black curls appeared taken by a breeze.
Casper's hands were moving so rapidly now they were just a blur. I sensed the ritual was reaching its peak when his commanding voice intoned, " Stamus exitium praesenti. Eieci malum!"
Then nothing. And nothing was a good thing. The weight of the ghosts
The once-empty hallway suddenly filled with all manner of spirits. And like a cavalry charge, they rushed straight for me. Instinctively, I crouched, knowing full well that the position would do no good against the ghosts. The cold slime of ghost plasma oozed along my body as the entities swarmed. Swatting them was useless. They began to slam into me, their combined force so great that I fell backward and sprawled on the floor.
Looking up, I saw more entities swirling above me. They looked almost like translucent people, but they were horrific. What used to be flesh was rotting off their bones. Coarse hair, sparse but wild, was floating around heads that were little more than skulls patched with skin that hadn't yet rotted out. Their sockets were dark voids. Looking into those eyes was like looking into a frightening abyss. I caught the foul stench of death as one of them exhaled too close to me.
Seven of them nose-dived right at me. I tried to roll to avoid impact, but these things were quick. They crashed into my chest and stomach, trying to find their way into my psyche but unable for some reason. Several bounced off, but three remained stuck like suction cups. I felt their ooze creep around my body as octopus-like tendrils wrapped themselves around my torso, binding my hands and plastering me to the floor.
The largest ghost hovered just above, his rank breath skimming my face. He unzipped my leather jacket and, finding exposed skin, he whipped a tendril down onto it, searing my skin. I yelped, a mix of surprise and agony. He was freezer-burning my skin! A second hit and I could feel blisters start to well up. Crap.
I kicked out at the poltergeists and, of course, hit nothing but air. I felt another slam of ice on my chest, my skin pulling away as he whipped the tendril off. Another ghost began to snake its ghostly appendages over my face. Its fingers felt like razor blades slicing into my skin. Blood began to drip down my face.
I had never encountered malevolent ghosts before. Hell, I had never actually seen a ghost manifested until Casper in the hospital. Now I was seeing them everywhere. I had no idea how I was going to get out of this mess. God I hated the Biltmore.
Just when I thought it could not get any worse, I felt another hit of cold plasma, and this time the ooze dropped right into my psyche. My nerves went into overdrive when I felt the sharp pain in my head. Then a familiar voice echoed in my ear.
Casper sounded a little panicked. "What the hell did you do this time?"
I never imagined I would ever feel such relief at the familiar migraine that exploded in my head. "Help me," I panted, forcing the words out. Between the poltergeists cutting and searing into me like prime beef, and my ghost-induced headache kicking in, I wasn't in the mood to explain myself.
"Trying!" Casper wheezed out. He handled possessing me about as well as I handled being possessed. God I hoped he could help.
Casper tried to push my eyes down. "Hey!" I protested.
"Trust me," he pushed again, and, sensing his exasperation, I grudgingly clamped my eyes closed.
Then, Casper took over my mind's eye, and I saw his brooding image clearly. His arms were moving in quick but elegant patterns. My arms, completely out of my control, followed his movements. Faintly, he muttered words I could not make out, the pace of our arms quickening. Energy swirled around him, and he raised his chiseled face towards it. His dark skin glowed and his black curls appeared taken by a breeze.
Casper's hands were moving so rapidly now they were just a blur. I sensed the ritual was reaching its peak when his commanding voice intoned, " Stamus exitium praesenti. Eieci malum!"
Then nothing. And nothing was a good thing. The weight of the ghosts
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