Haunting Harlow (1*+)

It’s your turn

Harlow woke to find Chantelle had already risen. She could hear her clattering around in the kitchen while badly singing along to the radio. Rolling out of bed, thoughts of freshly brewed coffee running through her mind, Harlow, threw a large white shirt over her nakedness and made her way downstairs. 

Chantelle was a pair of long slender legs, leading up to a black tee that barely covered her butt cheeks. She was bent over with her head in a cupboard, noisily rummaging around for something. 

“Morning,” Harlow called, grabbing a mug to pour herself a coffee. 

She heard Chantelle shriek, something go bump, followed by an “Ow". f**k. That hurt,” and Chantelle appeared, rubbing the back of her head. 

“Seriously, woman. I lost a brain cell then. Probably more than one, if I'm honest. How about a bit of notice next time so I don’t jump out of my skin?”

“Next time, I’ll slap your arse and we’ll see how many brain cells you lose, shall we?” Harlow told her friend, a sly smile crossing her mouth as she saw Chantelle's eyes taking in her barely covered breasts. 

“Well, if you’re offering,” Chantelle teased, bending over to expose cheeks that were barely contained within her lacy briefs. 

Harlow placed down her mug and let her hand smack Chantelle’s bottom with a loud slap. Chantelle yelped but, as always, stayed bent over for her other cheek to receive the same. Another yelp left Chantelle's mouth as Harlow’s hand hit its target, followed by a soft purr from Harlow's throat as she tenderly rubbed the red handprints that had started to form on Chantelle's cheeks. 

Turning herself as she stood upright, Chantelle, her eyes filled with lust, grabbed Harlow’s hand and pulled her towards the living room. Harlow hurriedly pulled Chantelle's tee-shirt over her head then pushed her onto the couch, before shrugging off her own shirt. 

Harlow leaned over to take Chantelle's mouth in hers, but saw something that made her gasp in surprise. My Adonis no longer took up his place on the mantelpiece. He was, instead, lying on the chessboard Harlow had set up the night before. One of the beautiful white knights upon horseback was also out of place, having moved from its starting position. It now sat, full of pride with sword raised high, waiting for his opponent on B3. 

Someone had made their first move. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Chantelle asked, her face full of concern. 

“Did you make a move on the chessboard?” Harlow asked her. 

“Me? Chess? Seriously? Have we just met? I don’t know a single thing about chess. Why would I even attempt to make a move?”

She could see the confusion written all over Chantelle’s face and knew that it hadn’t been her. Harlow, brow furrowed in confusion, pointed with her hand to direct Chantelle’s eyes to the chessboard. “Someone has been in the house last night. They must have done. I didn’t leave the chessboard like that, ”

“Why would someone come into the house and move a chess piece but not take the TV or anything else? Is your jewelry missing? How about your artwork. That’s worth a fortune.” 

“I don’t know. I need to check everything. Doors and windows too. I’m sorry Chantelle I know you wanted s*x but I'm kind of freaked out right now.” 

“It’s okay. Come on. I’ll help you look.” 

A few hours later, after finding no signs of anyone having gotten into the house, they were seated in the living room again, both looking at the chessboard. Harlow had relocated My Adonis, back to where he belonged and was now wondering how the hell a wooden game piece can jump over a pawn, seemingly of its own accord. 

“I have no explanation, ” Chantelle said as if reading Harlow's mind. “None logical, anyway.” 

“Me neither. What’re your illogical suggestions?” 

Harlow watched as her friend shook her head, opened her mouth to say something, and then changed her mind with another shake of her head. 

“Go on, hit me with it. I’m completely at a loss, ” Harlow told her. 

She really was at a loss as to how the game had started when only she and Chantelle had been in the house and neither of them had moved the knight. 

“Didn't you say things kept moving around of their own accord? I know you don’t believe in ghosts but I seriously think you have a poltergeist or something.” 

Harlow burst into laughter. 

“Chantelle, I love you. I really do,” she told her friend, still laughing. 

“Serious, Harlow. It makes sense. Things moving around. Those tingles you asked me about the other day. I think you’re haunted. We should do a séance, well, maybe not a séance, not without a group. I could channel. We can do it tonight.” 

Chantelle’s eyes were gleaming with excitement and despite not completely believing she was being haunted, Harlow found herself agreeing. 

“I don’t even know how you'd do that, though,” Harlow told her friend who was beaming from ear to ear. 

“Don’t you worry your little cotton socks. I got you covered, ” pulling her mobile phone from the pocket of her skinny jeans, Chantelle began swiping and tapping.

“Fantastic. I just need to nip to Windermere and visit a shop. Can you call Sam and get him here as soon as?” Chantelle asked, jumping off the couch and practically running to the door. 

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Harlow took a sip of wine and looked at Chantelle. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

Chantelle nodded and squeezed Harlow's hand. 

“I’m sure. I’ll be right. You’ll see.” 

Harlow was doubtful but kept it to herself, waiting for the chance to say ‘I told you so' that she knew would be coming soon. Chantelle had always been a believer in spirits having unfinished business and them not being able to cross back to their plane until their business had been resolved, but Harlow was skeptical. It wasn’t that Harlow didn’t believe in ghosts, or spirits, as she liked to call them. She did, but not in the same way as Chantelle. For Harlow, it was more the human spirit, or soul, as most called it, was ethereal and when a person died, that spirit returned to the ethereal plane automatically. Harlow believed that a living entity could have unfinished business but once they passed away, that unfinished business ceased to exist, like the person who had died. 

“I’m going to go quiet for a while. I need to clear my mind of noise. Don’t look so confused. I know I put an oceanic soundtrack on but it helps me find the calm that I need. I might eventually talk. If I do, just listen and try not to distract me. I might write things down and I might do nothing at all. Just keep quiet and bear with me until I say I’m done.” 

Harlow simply nodded, unable to trust that her voice would come out of her mouth, rather than laughter. She had never seen Chantelle acting so seriously before. It was almost as though the s*x-craved woman with carved cheekbones and lips that Harlow could kiss for hours, had become someone completely different and Harlow struggled to take her seriously. 

“Breathe deeply, Harlow. Close your eyes and breathe deeply, as you do in meditation.” 

Harlow, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, did as instructed but rather than thinking of what Chantelle was doing, she began to meditate. It had been a while since she had meditated and knew it would do her some good and Chantelle had given her the perfect opportunity to do it. 

She felt each breath filling her from head to foot, taking all her negativity with it as she exhaled. It didn’t take long for her to feel the inner tingle as she gave in to her breaths completely. Thoughts of paintings, My Adonis, the chess set, and Chantelle all wandered into her mind and with a brief acknowledgment, she pushed them away again.

“May the powers of the Cosmos that protect and guard us bless us and the spirits who join us tonight.” 

Harlow, lost in her meditation, barely registered what Chantelle had said. In her mind's eye, she saw a steam train racing along a never-ending track, puffs of steam took her troubles into the clouds, until they dissipated, leaving her trouble-free and relaxed. 

Harlow had no idea how long she had been sitting peacefully on the floor for but it felt like only a few minutes had passed before Chantelle called her name. 

“Are you done? Already?” 

“I am, and you’ll never believe it, ” Chantelle told her with a huge grin. 

“I told you so?” 

“Yes, I told you so. Hang on,” Chantelle told Harlow as she started to laugh.

“Don’t look so smug. I’m right so I get to do the “I told you so.” 

“What do you mean, you’re right? Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Chantelle pointed to the notepad she had placed on the floor in front of her before she started her channeling, and Harlow's hand flew to her mouth with a sharp intake of breath. 

Chantelle had one single word scribbled on the paper and there was no possible way that she could ever have come to that word herself. 

“You know that name, don’t you?” 

Harlow simply nodded, unable to take her eyes of the writing. 

“Who is he, Harlow?” 

Harlow felt her stomach sinking, along with her hopes of wild, erotic sex. 

“My Adonis. He’s My Adonis.”