Forgotten Memories

Hunting GhostsFrom Hunting Ghosts: Thrilling Tales of the Paranormal edited by Buck Weiss. Story by Don Beyer

Joe pushed his face between the bars and strained to see what lay beyond the city hoping it may help him recall something. A large brightly lit factory lay just outside of town as far left as he could see. Just outside the town to the right of his vision stood an encampment of gypsies or traveling merchants. Striped tents and large wheeled wagons stood in orderly rows lit by strings of lanterns. A greater mystery hung low in the sky on the other side of the river. A dark mass blocking out the starry sky with a massive inky blackness topped with small dots of lights. Perhaps his eyes played tricks, much easier to believe than the alternative: a massive floating structure.

A flash of light from the wreck caught his eye.

He turned to ask the old man if perhaps he too saw the light but found him absent. Joe looked over to the old man’s bed next to his and saw him there snoring quietly with his mouth slightly open.

He turned back to the window and studied the wreck. Joe had just begun to think himself a fool when he saw the flash of light a second time. A small white pinprick of light passed one of the darkened windows of the wreck. He stared, afraid to blink. And again he saw the light pass another window further forward. Too white to be a lantern or gas lamp. Maybe a reflection of moonlight he wondered. Would it be bright enough?

His stomach leaped as he saw the light a third time. This time there could be no doubt– a pale white figure emerged onto the foredeck of the wreck, slowly drifting to the side facing the city. Joe could see the figure as clearly. A woman with long flowing hair in a night gown trailed behind her. When she reached the port rail she stopped and turned toward where Joe stood at the window in the sanitarium.

A quiet hissing filled his hearing. So subtle, he hadn’t noticed it at first, then so persistent he could no longer ignore it. The hiss began to take substance in his ears as did the shape on the wreck. He knew her. She stepped out of his dreams and stood, unmistakably, staring at him from the upper deck of the wreck nearly a mile away. She reached out her arms and the twisting, winding hiss in his ears took shape, a word, unmistakable: “Come.”

What happens next? Read Hunting Ghosts: Thrilling Tales of the Paranormal to find out!

Copyright 2013 Black Oak Media, Inc. You do not have permission to copy this post.


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