Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Our house is haunted.”
Ella blinked at the middle-aged blonde sitting across from her. “Haunted?” She glanced to the woman’s husband, who stared back at her steadily.
Though pleased that she’d arrived as promised, the couple hadn’t invited Ella into their grand Victorian home. They’d urged her to follow them through the side gate that led to their backyard. It was beautifully maintained, bordered by trees similar to those in the massive wooded area behind this particular street of houses.
Very ‘Zen’ with the pretty pond, Japanese-style bridge, and stone lanterns, the garden possessed a relaxing feel. But there was nothing relaxed about the humans sitting opposite Ella at the patio table. They were nervous. Twitchy. Looked a little worn-down.
The woman, Nestor, licked her lips. “The Mills said you helped them with a similar situation. That you got rid of whatever was in their home.”
Ella couldn’t say that the situations were similar, since they so far didn’t appear to be. “Why don’t you tell me a little about what’s been happening?” she invited.
“There was nothing until four months ago,” replied Nestor’s husband, Martin. “We’ve lived here a decade, never had any issues. Then bam, the place turned into a hub of supernatural activity.”
Nestor rubbed her arm. “Things move around by themselves. Or they go missing and then turn up in odd places.”
“And by move around, she doesn’t mean something as simple as a glass sliding along a kitchen counter,” added Martin. “We’ve had objects thrown at us. The TV was knocked off the wall. Light bulbs randomly implode. Food gets taken out of the fridge and dumped over the floor. Our bedcovers were once yanked away from us in the middle of the night, and something laughed. It was a horrible sound.”
“We hear footsteps in the attic, but nothing is up there—we’ve checked,” said Nestor, a manic light in her eyes that conveyed she’d reached her limit. “Or, at least, it’s nothing we can see.”
Okay, well, they definitely had a preternatural problem of some sort.
Martin thrust a hand through his russet-brown hair, making it stick up in parts. The poor guy was the picture of frazzled. “We had the local priest bless the house, but it didn’t help. We’re hoping that you can.”
Ella had helped with hauntings in the past. For her, it wasn’t a matter of banishing spirits or guiding them to ‘the light’. She simply used magick to provide enough of a tear in the veil between this realm and that of the dead for the ghosts to slip through. Though, yes, sometimes she had to give them a violent magickal shove to get them moving. Not all wanted to pass on; some clung tight to their old lives.
She leaned forward slightly. “How about you two stay out here while I go take a walk around the house?” she proposed. “Would that be okay?”
Relief rippled over Nestor’s face. “That would be fine. Anything you can do would be fine.”
Martin gave Ella a jerky nod. “Thank you for not laughing at us or telling us we’re going crazy.” He flicked a look at the patio doors. “They’re unlocked.”
She flashed the couple a gentle smile, pushed out of her chair, and crossed to the doors. Slipping into the house, she glanced around. All dark woods with the typical Victorian color scheme of red, brown, and blue, the place was stylish and neat as a pin. Though modern, it had retained its original features such as the terracotta tiled floor.
Her fingertips prickling with her at-the-ready magick, she advanced through the house; explored the kitchen, dining room, large den, and half-bath before making her way upstairs.
She’d walked through haunted locations before. They had a certain feel to them. An atmosphere that was coldly electric. There was no such vibe here, but she didn’t believe that the humans were lying. Their fear and exhaustion were very real.
Wood creaked.
Ella halted in the master bedroom, her head jerking up. The sound had come from above. Narrowing her eyes, she made her way to the hallway and moved to stand beneath the attic’s rectangular hatch door. She released a thread of magick and used it to tug down both the hatch and the attached fold-down metal ladder.
She snapped her hands around the cool metal as she began to ascend the ladder. Reaching the attic, she felt her nose wrinkle. The stale air stank of dust, mold, and old fabric.
The space was predictably dim, the only shaft of light coming through the sole circular window, which was positioned at the front of the house. Cobwebs dangled from the exposed wooden beams. A fine layer of dust seemed to coat every surface. Shadowy spots were everywhere.
She called on her magick, shaping it into four balls of light. She tossed one into each corner of the attic, giving her a better view. Sheets were draped over pieces of furniture. Boxes—some sealed, some open—were stacked here and there. Filled garbage bags were scattered around. Random items could be seen, such as an old trunk and a broken sewing machine.