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Ghost Hunting 101 (Supplemental)
Dec. 10th, 2005 09:52 amIt wasn't that the house was creeky, or that the spiderwebs hanging in every corner got on your nerves after a while, and the creepiness that pervaded the house wasn't from the fact that it used to be a Funeral Home, either. The house had a decidedly odd feel to it, and we were all edgy. None of us could put our finger on what had us ready to bolt at a moment's notice, but there we were, edging for the door every time we thought no-one was looking.
"Well," I said, shrugging on the old camera and flipping on my voice recorder, "We're here. Let's get to what we came here for. John, Jason, you take the first floor, the owner said not much has happened here, but it's best to look around. Me and Kevin will take the cellar," Kevin didn't look happy at this, but didn't say anything, "and you two head upstairs." The two I pointed at were Mike and Cara, two old friends that I trusted with things like this. "Now, I want you to be careful. The lady said that upstairs is where the physical things happened, like that book incident she mentioned. Kevin and I will take the video camera," I motioned with it "because the cellar is where she said she saw things. Yell if you need anything."
So we split up. Kevin and I slowly stalked down the narrow and dusty cement stairs leading into the basement. A musty smell of old water and disuse assaulted us as we opened the lower door, and the temerous light of the flashlight revealed a wide-open dirt floor, with a few support beams. The owner said she didn't use the basement for anything, and it was rather obvious, especially when we found out the light didn't work.
"Stick close," I muttered. "Come on."
The ceiling was low, causing both of us to have to duck slightly as we walked along. The feeling that we were slowly being crushed in some kind of giant vice entered my mind more than once as we walked deeper in, and had to duck even more. "Jeremiah," came Kevin's voice, "did you hear that?" He pointed to a small wooden doorway in the corner, moldy and covered with what looked like moss. The door was rotting with no obvious handle, had once been painted red, but now was streaked with whatever greenish molds and mosses grew over it. I listened.
Scratching. A low moan. Scratching. The door shook suddenly, and we both jumped, smashing our heads into the pipes and wooden boards above us. The flashlight fell from my limp hand, spinning wildly, alternately highlighting the door and Kevin's face, spinning, until it landed on the ground, and went out completely. We froze for what felt to be a good minute, but was probably only a few seconds.
I reached up and turned on the video camera's light. It was weak, and barely cut through this true darkness, but we both breathed a sigh of relief. Kevin tried the flashlight, but something had broken.
"We gotta see what's making that noise!" Kevin sounded excited, and I think I was as well. "You go first!"
"Thanks." I pulled off the video camera and gave it to him, and he pointed it at the old door. Slowly I moved forward, reaching out for the small handhold that was carved into the door that we hadn't seen before. Looking back one last time to make sure the film was running, I began to pull open the door when suddely it shot open, exploding from partly open to wide open, and something dark and sinister came rushing forward, towards the camera!
The smash of the video camera hitting the ground, and a feral scream mixed with the yowling of the damned were the only things I could hear. The only light that was left was the little that trickled from the stairway, and as a cold gust of wind swept through the room, even that was taken from us. I could hear Kevin scramble, and something else scurry about the room with amazing speed as I struggled to my feet, having been knocked down by the surprise of the door hitting me.
Knowing my priorities, I blindly groped for the fallen camera as I yelled to get the attention of those upstairs. Kevin had already been yelling, of course, but instead of inarticulate cries, I was trying to yell something like "Get your asses down here right now, Gods Damn it!" That's what I would have yelled, if suddenly a specter of slashing force hadn't leapt onto my face. Instead, I screamed as small icy knives slashed my flesh, and I was acting on instinct too, running to where I had last seen the door, tearing at my face.
When the drive to flee in terro finally left me, I found myself upstairs, in the foyer with everyone else. Somehow, I had salvaged the camera, and our resident medic, Cara, was cleaning my face of blood.
I looked at Kevin. He looked at me. We looked at everyone, our faces white with shock and fear. "Let's get out of here," I think I said, and we left. I think someone talked to the home-owner, but where that usually would have been me, I was too shaken to even try. Could be the woman is still wondering to this day what the hell happened, but I think someone let her know. I think.
...
It was a week later when Kevin came over. "Jeremiah," he said, looking serious, "You have to see this." He was holding a tape in his hands, and I knew what it was from. Apparently, the only thing that had broken on the camera had been the light.
"Not sure I want to," I mumbled, trying not to remember that night, and how much my face still hurt.
"You have to."
He put the tape into my player, and stood next to the machine as it began to play. I watched, not wanting to, but not able to tear my eyes unglued from a familiar scene. The flashlight falling from my hand, darkness, our voices, the light coming back on, this time it was the video light.
I saw myself reach forward for the door, my hand connect, and it flew open. As the camera made its decent into impact, Kevin hit pause. Questioningly I looked at him. "Look closely," he commented wryly.
There, leaping from the doorway with it's mouth open and front claws extended in a running motion, was the frozen image of a very large, but very solid and real, cat. It's long black fur was mostly black, with patches of white and grey. Very real, and very solid.
My breath caught, and I stood silent for a moment. Looking at Kevin, seeing his wide grin, I couldn't help it. I started laughing, and when he joined in my laughter doubled. My parents came to see what was the matter, looked at us, at the screen with a frozen image of a cat, decided not to ask, and left. My laughter, slightly hysterical at this point, doubled as did Kevins.
Our imaginations had gotten the best of us, and we were relieved that instead of some devil, it was a demon-spawn of a cat. We felt stupid, relieved, and above all else I think thankful. The only way to express it was to laugh.
We still didn't go back to that home, however. I understand another group did, in our place, and deemed it "creepy, but not haunted." From what I heard, the lady told them a story about the basement that included the last group "fleeing in fear, screaming that a demon had attacked them." I hear they refused to check the basement.
"Well," I said, shrugging on the old camera and flipping on my voice recorder, "We're here. Let's get to what we came here for. John, Jason, you take the first floor, the owner said not much has happened here, but it's best to look around. Me and Kevin will take the cellar," Kevin didn't look happy at this, but didn't say anything, "and you two head upstairs." The two I pointed at were Mike and Cara, two old friends that I trusted with things like this. "Now, I want you to be careful. The lady said that upstairs is where the physical things happened, like that book incident she mentioned. Kevin and I will take the video camera," I motioned with it "because the cellar is where she said she saw things. Yell if you need anything."
So we split up. Kevin and I slowly stalked down the narrow and dusty cement stairs leading into the basement. A musty smell of old water and disuse assaulted us as we opened the lower door, and the temerous light of the flashlight revealed a wide-open dirt floor, with a few support beams. The owner said she didn't use the basement for anything, and it was rather obvious, especially when we found out the light didn't work.
"Stick close," I muttered. "Come on."
The ceiling was low, causing both of us to have to duck slightly as we walked along. The feeling that we were slowly being crushed in some kind of giant vice entered my mind more than once as we walked deeper in, and had to duck even more. "Jeremiah," came Kevin's voice, "did you hear that?" He pointed to a small wooden doorway in the corner, moldy and covered with what looked like moss. The door was rotting with no obvious handle, had once been painted red, but now was streaked with whatever greenish molds and mosses grew over it. I listened.
Scratching. A low moan. Scratching. The door shook suddenly, and we both jumped, smashing our heads into the pipes and wooden boards above us. The flashlight fell from my limp hand, spinning wildly, alternately highlighting the door and Kevin's face, spinning, until it landed on the ground, and went out completely. We froze for what felt to be a good minute, but was probably only a few seconds.
I reached up and turned on the video camera's light. It was weak, and barely cut through this true darkness, but we both breathed a sigh of relief. Kevin tried the flashlight, but something had broken.
"We gotta see what's making that noise!" Kevin sounded excited, and I think I was as well. "You go first!"
"Thanks." I pulled off the video camera and gave it to him, and he pointed it at the old door. Slowly I moved forward, reaching out for the small handhold that was carved into the door that we hadn't seen before. Looking back one last time to make sure the film was running, I began to pull open the door when suddely it shot open, exploding from partly open to wide open, and something dark and sinister came rushing forward, towards the camera!
The smash of the video camera hitting the ground, and a feral scream mixed with the yowling of the damned were the only things I could hear. The only light that was left was the little that trickled from the stairway, and as a cold gust of wind swept through the room, even that was taken from us. I could hear Kevin scramble, and something else scurry about the room with amazing speed as I struggled to my feet, having been knocked down by the surprise of the door hitting me.
Knowing my priorities, I blindly groped for the fallen camera as I yelled to get the attention of those upstairs. Kevin had already been yelling, of course, but instead of inarticulate cries, I was trying to yell something like "Get your asses down here right now, Gods Damn it!" That's what I would have yelled, if suddenly a specter of slashing force hadn't leapt onto my face. Instead, I screamed as small icy knives slashed my flesh, and I was acting on instinct too, running to where I had last seen the door, tearing at my face.
When the drive to flee in terro finally left me, I found myself upstairs, in the foyer with everyone else. Somehow, I had salvaged the camera, and our resident medic, Cara, was cleaning my face of blood.
I looked at Kevin. He looked at me. We looked at everyone, our faces white with shock and fear. "Let's get out of here," I think I said, and we left. I think someone talked to the home-owner, but where that usually would have been me, I was too shaken to even try. Could be the woman is still wondering to this day what the hell happened, but I think someone let her know. I think.
...
It was a week later when Kevin came over. "Jeremiah," he said, looking serious, "You have to see this." He was holding a tape in his hands, and I knew what it was from. Apparently, the only thing that had broken on the camera had been the light.
"Not sure I want to," I mumbled, trying not to remember that night, and how much my face still hurt.
"You have to."
He put the tape into my player, and stood next to the machine as it began to play. I watched, not wanting to, but not able to tear my eyes unglued from a familiar scene. The flashlight falling from my hand, darkness, our voices, the light coming back on, this time it was the video light.
I saw myself reach forward for the door, my hand connect, and it flew open. As the camera made its decent into impact, Kevin hit pause. Questioningly I looked at him. "Look closely," he commented wryly.
There, leaping from the doorway with it's mouth open and front claws extended in a running motion, was the frozen image of a very large, but very solid and real, cat. It's long black fur was mostly black, with patches of white and grey. Very real, and very solid.
My breath caught, and I stood silent for a moment. Looking at Kevin, seeing his wide grin, I couldn't help it. I started laughing, and when he joined in my laughter doubled. My parents came to see what was the matter, looked at us, at the screen with a frozen image of a cat, decided not to ask, and left. My laughter, slightly hysterical at this point, doubled as did Kevins.
Our imaginations had gotten the best of us, and we were relieved that instead of some devil, it was a demon-spawn of a cat. We felt stupid, relieved, and above all else I think thankful. The only way to express it was to laugh.
We still didn't go back to that home, however. I understand another group did, in our place, and deemed it "creepy, but not haunted." From what I heard, the lady told them a story about the basement that included the last group "fleeing in fear, screaming that a demon had attacked them." I hear they refused to check the basement.
