Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction Challenge for Wednesday October 24- write a story 500-2000 words about ghosts. This was not my favorite flash fiction that I have written so far, even though I love the paranormal. I felt like I could have gone much further with this one, but my mind is so focused on trying to edit Terrahtu and write about the shadow people.
By Melissa Davis
“Move,” the voice ordered. It almost always started out that way, a simple haunting voice. I turned on my electronic voice phenomena(EVP) recorder and started my questions.
“Did you just tell me to move?” A cold blast of air went to my back and I knew I was not going to get anything on EVP, but I left it on. Why would they talk to a piece of equipment when it was so much easier to just talk to me.
“What do you want?” No answer. More chills.
“Help me,” came the whisper of a younger voice.
I turned around trying to see the body behind the voice, but there was no one there. I should be used to this by now. They were always following me. I had been working on shutting off the voices long enough to sleep at night. I often found myself making deals out loud with them to just let me get one more hour of sleep before they bothered me again.
“Get out!” It was the first voice. It was definitely male and very aggressive towards intruders. I knew I should have waited for the team to back me up. The Paranormal Research Association was waiting outside while I did a psychic sweep of the house. Unlike many paranormal investigation groups, this team believed that mediums were very helpful in detecting spirit activity.
“I’m not afraid of you.” I switched on my flashlight and moved it across the room. I did not see any shapes or shadows, but the air was crackling around me.
“No.” The front door opened and while I expected one of my teammates to enter, there was no one there. “Is that the best you got?”
The door slammed shut and the locked turned in place. Four more doors slammed shut and the windows started to rattle. I could hear John outside. “You ok in there?”
“Yes. We’re just getting started in here, John.” I went to the door and turned the lock. I tried to open the door, but it would not budge. I went to the windows and tried to open one up. No luck. This was a first.
“Open the door.” I looked up when I heard the sound of clopping footsteps above me. The sound echoed down the hallway then made its way to the top of the stairs.
“You should have left.” The younger voice was quivering behind me. “He’s going to get you now.”
I grabbed the door knob and tried to yank the door open. I was no lightweight so I should have been able to open it easily. “John, push on the door. I may be in some trouble here.”
John and I worked on opening the door for what seemed like an eternity and all the while the footsteps were getting further down the stairs. The room was getting hot and the furnace hadn’t even kicked on. It only got hot when they were very angry.
“I’ll go. I promise. Just open the door.” Was that my voice shaking? I needed to keep calm. Half of the problem with fear is that you need to control the thoughts feeding it. There is nothing that this entity can do to me. I kept telling myself that over and over, but the slash of red hot fire on my back reminded me that yes it can. From the corner of my eyes I saw books floating off the shelf behind me before they launched at me. I ducked, but not fast enough to avoid all of them. Two of them pelted me in the head.
“John, get me out of here now!” I heard the smash of glass as John busted open the window.
“Jenna, come on. Hurry!” As I climbed through the window it did not escape my attention that sharp knives were now levitating through the kitchen and were starting to pick up speed through the air. We both jumped in the van and shut the doors as quickly as we can. John turned the keys in the ignition as the rest of the team climbed in the back of the van.
“Get us the hell out of here!” I saw the knives drop in the air before they made it to the window. I could now see a dark shadow creeping back up the stairs.
“So where are we going next week?”
I punched John on the shoulder. We had barely made it out this time and he was already thinking about where we would go next. I would have kicked him had he not been driving. He was right though. We lived for these moments. Although I think next time we should send him in first.