you believe in ghosts?
suspect that you have your doubts and consider the mere notion of
the concept as total fancy. Am I right? In any case, please for
the moment cast aside any judgments that you might have on the matter
and allow me to share with you this veritable tale; perhaps, just
perhaps, I shall be able to enlighten your imprudent opinion. Where
would be an appropriate place to begin? I suppose I should start
with last Saturday. Yes, that will do nicely...
was a typical quiet morning in the city of Asbury, North Carolina.
Asbury is a small off the beaten track sort of town. You know the
type of place. Its two thousand residents live a modest all American
existence. It is the sort of town that seems to be permanently and
blissfully lost in the annuals of time.
am fortunate enough by vocation to be a journalist, although less
fortunate than most journalists as nothing really happens too much
in this part of the world. I generally spend most of my days writing
about the humdrum, desperately attempting to make it far more appealing
than it actually is. Last Saturday, however, despite being a typically
bleak November in North Carolina, a very untypical series of events
were about to unfold...
see, on that particular Saturday I received an unexpected early
morning phone call. I had been lying there in the relative safety
of my bed cuddled affectionately with my wife of nearly thirty years
and the phone all at once shattered our blissful slumber. As I fumbled
in darkness for the receiver, I could not help but glance at the
digital clock. 3:15.
I desperately tried to escape the early morning fogginess of my
mind I found myself having a hard time comprehending the account
the female voice was telling me. However I found the enticing voice
remarkably compelling and convincing and I knew that I must hurry.
on the clothes I had worn the day before, I kissed my sleeping wife
softly upon her cheek, grabbed a can of cola from the fridge, and
jumped into my faithful old pick-up truck. In a few moments, I was
on the highway. At this time of the morning I seemingly had the
road to myself and sped along briskly as I allowed the caffeine
from my soda to jump-start my brain.
minutes later, I pulled up into the old graveyard just as I had
been directed to do so. The speaker had divulged of bizarre rituals
that had been occurring in this cemetery during the night, namely:
witchcraft. As I parked my vehicle, I was convinced that I glimpsed
movement amongst the stillness of the gravestones.
I watched the shadows, I could have sworn I could perceive a figure.
I could not help to allow my imagination to play tricks. Perhaps
I had seen too many low budget movies at the drive-in as a teen.
Was this some sort of an apparition? Or alternatively perhaps a
demon of some sorts, maybe even the devil himself?
I apprehensively approached the gateway, I noticed that my hands
were now physically trembling. As my eyes fully acclimated to the
darkness I distinguished that the movement was indeed just a person.
The moon was full in the sky and gave off just enough luminosity
to reveal the approaching form.
shone my flashlight and waved. On the phone, she had shared with
me the rather disturbing fact that she claimed herself to be a witch,
or rather a former witch, and despite the sweetness in her tone,
I was still envisioning some sort of battered hag; I was rather
surprised when the shapely young nubile female came fully into my
a smile and a gentle handshake she confirmed that she was indeed
Carrie, my early morning caller. I could tell instantly that she
was afraid, as fear seemed deeply embedded amongst her young soft
blue eyes. She led me to the mausoleum, in the heart of the graveyard,
explaining as we went that this was where the unnatural goings-on
were occurring. As I followed, a couple of steps behind her, I could
not help but be captivated by the flow of her long, raven-black
soon approached the old building which I had assumed long since
abandoned. The black stones of its construction belied its hundred-year
old plus history. It had been built at the turn of the twentieth
century, back when the city was wealthy and grand, and its most
affluent of residents required equal grandeur in death.
old cast-iron door swung open easily, its screeching hinge wailing
like the torturous cry of a banshee, I rather considered. I hesitated
for a moment, beginning once more to reconsider my actions, but
Carrie's smile gave me newfound daring and I stepped inside.
had expected to be met with sheer darkness. Nevertheless, the room
was filled with black candles, dozens of them, and they illuminated
the space with an uncanny radiance.
began to eagerly inspect every nook in only a way that a reporter's
or investigator's eye could. The first thing that struck me was
its size, as it was startlingly cavernous, leading down well below
the surface. I realized that there must be a multitude of tunnels
down here, each one filled with tombs, deep into the earth. Reason
was still nagging at me to scurry home, back to the security of
my warm bed. Yet, as I mentioned, Carrie's blue eyes had by some
means bewitched me.
continued to examine the burial chamber with more detail and the
macabre scene made me shudder down to my very core. The vestiges
of several creatures were strewn about and they had been so brutally
slaughtered that defining what kind of animals they were was virtually
impossible. The sweet sickly scent told me that this callousness
had been recent; this blood was still fresh...
the center of the room a large pentagram had been meticulously drawn,
in what I can only suspect was blood. As I removed my camera from
my pocket, I began fervently shooting images. As I snapped, Carrie
proceeded to tell more of her tale...
explained how it had all started naively enough with a few bored
high-school female friends. There was little excitement for teenagers
in this part of the world. Apparently, one of them had come across
an old book on the black arts at a flea market. At first, it had
all been a giggle she continued and told me that they had soon formed
a coven of witches, seven of them in total, innocent fun nothing
more than highjinks and slumber parties. At first... at first...
but as the months and years progressed, she explained, so did their
year ago, they had encountered the old mausoleum. Instantaneously
she explained they had felt a sense of purpose and belonging to
the many secrets that were surely locked inside. Tears started to
fill my confessor's eyes as she continued. Now, every time a new
moon lit the night sky, they congregated here.
made clear that at first they just experimented with love potions
and attempts to hex scorned lovers. But they soon found these things
tiresome, and they required more to satiate there mounting hunger
for knowledge. It was shortly thereafter that they discovered the
potential power of blood.
sacrificing small animals, they initially satiated their desires;
finally after a multitude of bizarre, unrepeatable experiments,
she told how they managed to unlock the mystical capability that
the warm ruby liquid contained. But now, she explained, their urges
were going to require more than animals' blood to quench them.
listened in horror as she told of her tale. I was strangely fascinated
by each menacing syllable that emanated from her full red lips.
She told of how the seven of them were slowly transformed... explaining
to me with elaborate details how, as they further explored the dark
arts, the more and more compelled they became to delve even deeper.
She suddenly gave an unexpected stare right at me just as I started
to realize that, it was not fear that I had seen in those eyes.
It was excitement.
next words she spoke were going to change my world forever.
blood is the next step..."
that phrase echoed through my brain, I suddenly became acutely aware
of the peril I might be in. Not one single soul other than Carrie
knew of my whereabouts. If something happened to me, who would think
to look for me here? I got up and hastily attempted to dash towards
the exit. I suddenly realized that the two of us were no longer
can only presume that I had been far too engrossed in Carrie's gruesome
tale she was telling to notice that six more figures were now all
about me. They must have been there the whole time, hiding, waiting,
planning for me to arrive. This had been nothing more than a trap.
my feet tried desperately to make it to the exit, I felt a sharp
crack on the back of my skull, and winced in pain and horror as
I felt my blood beginning to ooze freely from my head. The pain
was indescribable, as was my fear. I desperately tried to hang on
to consciousness. However I soon succumbed to the now irresistible
beckoning of the dark. I remembered I screamed, desperate, fearful,
have no concept of the time I had been passed out. However, when
I awoke I quickly ascertained my certain fate. I had been bound
to the floor; I felt the bindings cutting into my wrists and ankles,
tearing away at my flesh. My arms were outstretched and my legs
spread apart. My jacket and shirt had been evidently ripped from
my body. I was just able enough to raise my head enough to see my
heart almost thumping out of my chest. My head injury had made me
nauseous. I longed to vomit, but knew in that position I would only
gag upon my own fluids.
heard giggling from behind my view. I prayed that whatever was about
to happen would be quick and merciful. My eyes opened wide in complete
panic as the seven women circled me, holding hands. They began to
skip and dance almost majestically about me. Long, flowing, ruby-colored
gowns hung delicately from their delicate frames. They were laughing
and reveling, almost in a hysterical state.
they started to chant and I have no idea what the words meant. It
sounded almost as if they spoke in some ancient language. Their
mantra developed into a more incessant and louder song. I grimaced
as their actions got more and more agitated. The sweat was at this
point dripping profusely down my forehead, and seemed to burn my
eyes. Whatever was going to happen, whatever fate had cruelly bestowed
upon me, it was drawing nearer.
was the one who suddenly stopped. She skipped and danced over to
the altar, and returned momentarily carrying a short sword, and
its blade glistened in the candle light. A new chant began, rhythmic,
penetrating my senses. I felt myself almost becoming euphoric. What
was happening? What bizarre transformation was manifesting itself?
watched on almost joyously as she stood above me and as she raised
the blade directly above my pounding heart, the chanting intensified...
Then I watched as with remarkable force the blade came down and
penetrated my chest. I remember a sudden surge of pain. Then there
* * *
I mentioned, that was a week ago. I have no explanation of what
happened next. I suddenly became aware that I had a presence, but
not a body. That I had been freed from all pain, yet my memories
and thinking process seemed intact. I have desperately tried to
communicate with my wife, with no avail. I am not sure what state
my body is in. I suspect that I am what would be usually regarded
as a ghost...
know that my soul will never be at rest until my remains have been
discovered and given a Christian burial. I need a special person
to help me, one that has the power to communicate from beyond. I
know that this quality is rare, that to most people this page will
if by some chance you found yourself able to read this, I have found
my needed ally.
shall be in touch with you soon.