From Hunting Ghosts: Thrilling Tales of the Paranormal edited by Buck Weiss. Story by David Thomas
“It’s ok, Michael How could I, a 94 year old woman, and a small ghost hurt you?”
She then opened the door with a firm twist of the key and entered into a long dark corridor.
He looked back outside into the silent and still street; the rain as if on cue came down even harder.
He looked back inside and watched as the old woman moved on into a living room and began lighting candles
He stepped in and was hit by the pressure, that strange tight feeling at the base of the neck; he’d forgotten about his new powers, forgot there was a ghost in the house.
From somewhere towards the back of the house she called out to him, “Michael?”
His eyes widened as he entered into the living room, on every inch of the walls hung pictures; several were of popes, others of African kings. It felt like a thousand faces staring down at him as the flames from the candles flickered like medieval torches, on the floor and scattered shelving around the room were hundreds of books, in a dozen or more different languages, they reminded him of the monoliths outside.
“Why don’t you sit down?” She called from a small kitchen. He did, with all the bemusement of a child who first enters a library or museum.
Then, from behind the living room door, a small cold face slowly looked round wide eyed. He shot back deep into the chair and screeched, “Jesus.”
The child didn’t move but instead slowly smiled at him, raised a thin cold hand and waved. Michael squirmed in his chair. “Mrs Wraith? Mrs Wraith?”
What happens next? Read Hunting Ghosts: Thrilling Tales of the Paranormal to find out!
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