Tags:
Fiction,
thriller,
Suspense,
Fantasy,
Horror,
Paranormal,
Action,
supernatural,
Ghosts,
Ghost,
Stephen King,
paranromal,
haunted house
bigger.”
Ann took an involuntary step back and the pillar of cold air seemed to expand to meet her. Tonya’s steady, calm voice was somehow more chilling than if she’d gone for a dramatic stage whisper. Ann kept the Flip cam as steady as she could in her now-trembling hand. The tension in the room swelled and the overhead light dimmed.
“It’s drawing power,” Tonya said.
“Electrical surge in the wiring,” Duncan said, but Ann wasn’t so sure science was behind this little display. She knew most of her experience was subjective, and that the visual and auditory record would reveal nothing unusual, but she found herself glad for Tonya’s steady presence.
As the light grew bright again, the room warmed. Tonya exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath since exiting the bathroom.
“What was that?” Duncan asked.
“It’s gone again,” Tonya said.
“He’s gone,” Ann added, realizing that the force had projected a definite masculinity. But that was absurd. Even if the various experiences could be corroborated, physical events by their nature were indifferent and neuter. Science was marked by gender, not sex.
“Come on,” Duncan said, taking her arm and leading her to the door. “You need some rest.”
Ann was listless, as if the entity had drained power from her as well as the light bulb. As Duncan guided her from the room, he whispered, “Good show.”
He must have thought she was faking the performance, both to assuage Tonya’s suspicions and raise expectations among the hunters. But Ann wasn’t quite sure how to assess the experience. The various phenomena combined to create a cumulative effect that left her wondering what had happened.
As they reached the door, Tonya said, “Your aura.”
Ann turned, though Duncan frowned.
“The black is in yours now.”
Chapter 15
Lame-o-rama. Ain’t that right, Momma?
Kendra had lowered her expectations for her dad, but this was a little embarrassing. She would have just given the two ladies their refunds and sent them on their way, but Wayne Wilson never let a dollar slide out of his pocket without a fight. Even the little melodrama with the fainting fat lady had turned dull. This whole conference was shaping up as nothing more than another wasted weekend.
The control room was in chaos, with the hunt schedule already thrown off barely two hours in. A dozen people were complaining about their groups, and one woman said her butt had been fondled in the dark. Wayne had tried to appease her by suggesting she’d been touched by the spirit, but apparently the woman’s feminist ardor trumped her belief in the paranormal.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll get back on track in just a minute,” Wayne shouted in his best barker’s voice, momentarily quelling the rebellion. The room smelled of menthol and stale tobacco smoke, with a faint tinge of body odor. As he huddled with Burton over a clipboard, Kendra sidled through the murmuring crowd to Cody, who was rattling the keys of his laptop.
“Hey, Future,” she said. “Got any goods yet?”
Cody’s brow furrowed as he studied the computer, which was perched on a card table and wired to a bank of video monitors. “Check this out,” he said without looking up.
He tapped some keys, bringing one of the video thumbnails to full size on his screen. The video began playing, and Kendra leaned over Cody’s shoulder to look. His neck smelled clean, with an outdoorsy freshness that made her a little light-headed. She debated brushing her chest against his back, but decided he was too deeply into his work to notice, and she didn’t want to waste ammunition.
She smirked to herself. Tiny bullets.
“The attic,” Cody said, stating the obvious as he pointed to the screen. The image showed rafters, dusty boards, a crumbling brick chimney, and fluffy piles of old insulation.
“Creepy.”
“No more so than any other dark place. Now look.” Cody pressed a key and the video began
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