Human vs. Phantom

Chapter – 9 Episode – 2 Next Door

Chapter – 9

Episode – 2

Next Door

Jim

Avery and Ethan both went out for work and as they go to work, they dropped Cam at his Granny’s home. It is not too far from their own. She looks after him when they are both off to work.

I took this chance to investigate what happened in the neighborhood. These things always make me curious. If not a hunter, I believe I would have been a crime investigator.

So, I wore the only suit that I had brought in my bag and marched.

“Who are you? You can't enter this is a protected area.” I heard an authoritative male voice as I was almost at the door of the house. As I turned to the voice, the man was wearing a dark navy-blue uniform, hair sleeked back, white gloves, gun belt. I walked at him and say,

“officer Findley, coroner’s office.” I fished my id from my suit’s breast pocket and put it in front of his face. He carefully glared at the id like he was looking at his lover’s eyes and continue saying,

“but the officers left already an hour ago.”

“Yeah, no I know, actually I am new in the office. They send me to investigate so I can learn. It is a thing you know at the office.” I spoke.

“I'm officer Presley by the way.” He introduced.

“can I go in now?” I asked.

“let me guide you.”

The officer took me inside. I was following him as he was walking more and more inside the house. With every step of his, I was looking at every detail of the house. It was modern and vibrant. As I was walking and walking, I realized something weird, the smell. The smell of the room, there was something odd about it. It was a kind of smell that your brain tells you to run far away from. It is pungent and rotten.

“What is this smell?” I asked intrigued.

“We don’t know officer, we looked around the house and the neighborhood but there is no possible source of this smell. Not that we know of at least.” Officer Presley said.

The smell was super faint like how the fragrance of the perfume fades after ten hours of putting on your favorite perfume, although as we were walking in, it was getting more and more prominent as if we were walking to its source. As we walked by the vinyl flooring and climbed up the staircase, Presley took me to the room where it all happened. His bedroom on the first floor.

It was a room that reflects the style that was opposite to the vibe of the rest of the house that I walked by from. The room was much vacant, just a bed by the front wall with two lampshades on each side and a painting above the bedpost on the wall. The rest was empty. Although the walls were all as perfect as they could be, there were no signs of any other piece of furniture ever be there. It wasn’t a robbery, a hundred percent.

The cruelty of the murder can be seen from the splashes of bloodstains that were all over the white sheet of the bed. The blood splattered on the walls too, big drops and spots were on more than half of its height. The splashes were not in just one direction it was all over. The murderer blew multiple times on the victims, as the stains show.

“what was the weapon, can you tell? Did you find any?” I asked the officer who was still visibly uncomfortable to be in here, from all that blood. It was hard for me too but experiencing the worsts in the past, was easier now. The scene was quite how I remember the scene of the way our house looked like when mom and dad were brutally killed. All the blood on the furniture and wall, all that red, it’s printed in my memories.

“We couldn’t find any, the autopsy report is the only hope.” He responded.

“do you have the pictures of the body?” I asked again.

“I'll get it,” he said marching away from me walked out with long strides, and soon disappeared.

I was looking through the room as I was wearing the medical gloves. There wasn’t much to look at there, just the bed. I looked all around it, under, over, behind. I even looked under the mattress but there was nothing else than bloodstains everywhere. I looked under the painting, nada. Behind the door, nothing. I looked around the grey curtains hanging on the window yet there was nothing on it. I opened the curtains and then suddenly my eyes fell on something. It was like a thick black patch on the other side of the bottom of the window, like drops of something black collected there, it was as big as a penny. I opened the window and dipped my index finger in it. Bringing it close to me I rubbed it between my index and the thumb to feel its texture and it felt smooth and dense almost jelly-like just more elastic, it was sticky like a booger just blacks not grey. It was disgusting though, it felt disgusting. I bring those fingers close to my nose and boom, the same smell from before filled my nostrils sending the stink straight to my brain and for a few seconds, my mind became clouded. I can never get over this smell again. Like the stink paralyzed it. But soon as I got my composure back, I knew what it was now. It was ectoplasm.

One thing is for sure now, this ain't no psycho killer’s job, it was a spirit. A deep dark vengeful spirit, a very active and angry ghost. The ghost has to be very angry for ectoplasm to appear.

The same day, evening

Jim

“What is the verdict doc?” I asked the petite brunette medical examiner doing the autopsy as I walked in the morgue. “any clue on the possible murder weapon and cause of murder?” I added.

She looked at me, her eyebrows furrowed, and said, “and you are?”

“officer Findlay,” I answered fishing out my badge.

“come here take a look.” She told me and I did what she said.

She was standing on a stool to reach the body but she stepped down

to go and grab something. She got back with a medical knife and a torch and also a file in her hands and stepped back on it.

“do you see this officer?” She said and took an x-ray report from the file. It was the x-ray of the deceased.

“This is what a normal skull looks like,” she compared it with another x-ray. “and this is what his skull looks like.” She showed.

“there were multiple fractures on the skull, deadly, the skull was literally crushed open.” She told. “at first, I thought it could have been don’t by some metal object, like a steel object metal bat or something. Or I thought maybe a wooden bat.”

“is that possible to do with a wooden bat?” I asked her, they are not supposed to be very strong.

“it’s not impossible.” She spoke.

So, this is what happened. I thought.

“it could be the weapon, but I haven’t found any traces of any kind of metal or even wood on the body.” She explained.

“but there is something else too.” she continued.

“did you find something else?” I asked curiously.

“I'm not sure, I have concluded yet and I might be wrong but… no forget it. Forget I had said anything.”

“what is it doc?” I insisted.

“When I was examining the body, I found this.” She picked up a Petri dish from the table and passed it to me.

“off the record, but you know my grandmother used to be a shaman.” She spoke.

“okay?” I blurted.

“I know it might sound crazy; I feel crazy saying it as a doctor but this black substance is ectoplasm. This is a substance that malevolent and evil spirits leave behind.” She told me.

“My granny used to teach me this supernatural stuff. I've seen this when she used to perform seances.” She said looking up to my face. “moreover there are signs of physical torture on the body that is not possible for humans to conflict.” She continued.

I was just taken aback by her statement. Doctors never believe in this stuff. They are the science kind, try and have logic and sense in everything. It’s hard to find someone who thinks that way.

“and I am pretty sure from the shreds of evidence that someone has killed him with bare hands.”

“is that possible?” I spluttered.