Pathways to Magic

Chapter One

When I awoke the next morning the eerie feeling I had felt last night had returned, or

maybe it never went away. Ridge Rock was called a Ghost town for a reason, but I didn’t

expect to still be effecting me twelve hours later. It had never been a problem before, but

for some reason I felt like someone, or something was still watching me, and I had felt it

since I first pulled up to that old town.

It was part of my job to go hunting around old places like Ridge Rock. I’m also used to

dealing with supernatural beings; Demons, Warlocks, even the took down a Vampire once.

That case took me to some pretty dark, creepy and desolate places, but Ridge Rock was

different. I just hadn’t managed to work out why or how yet. Eerie as it was though, it was

part of the job that I had been hired for. I didn’t have much information, my employee just

wanted a full report, everything I could find out. The feeling was strange, I almost felt like

there had been a murder, but no body. And how does one investigate that?

This has probably left you wondering why I deal with this. By trade I am a Private

Investigator, with a specialist interest in the Occult. I had gained the nickname Paranormal

Investigator in the industry, which isn’t entirely true. Not all my cases were supernatural,

most but not all. At least I shook the ghostbuster nickname early on. In all fairness, the

nicknames aren’t far off, while still being a million miles from the truth. Not that I would

ever admit that to anyone who doesn’t need to know. My closest friends (which totals two

people) and clients know the truth, I am witch. I have powers which I use to help solve

cases, and also come in handy in everyday life as well. I had not yet divulged this piece of

information to my current employer, and as I knew very little about him, it was hard to

know whether he had come to me as a person needing a witch, or just a person needing a

good investigator. Until he mentioned it, I certainly wasn’t going too. Like I said, it was a

need to know basis, and right now he was not included in that group. I may be a witch, I had

powers and I was kick a*s with throwing knives, but I am still a women living in a rough part

of town. I’m not stupid, I still have to be careful.

For now, I was going to concentrate on the job at hand, and that meant listing and

consolidating. I had been hired to investigate and write a report on Ridge Rock, a Small town

on the outskirts of Salem, the town in which I currently live and operate my business. I know

what you must be thinking, a witch living in Salem, how ironic. It is in a way, but believe it or

not it’s one of the busiest supernatural towns around. All sorts live here, without problem.

Obviously the town learnt from its past. Ridge Rock however was something else, nothing

lived there and by the looks of last night, nothing had for a long time. There were two things

that made Ridge Rock stand out, three if you counted the eerie feeling I got from it. The first

thing I had noticed, or more been shown, was the records. Or lack of them. Nothing was

dated past the late 1890’s; no death dates, no birth records, not even an arrest warrant.

Over a hundred people lived in that town, they must have gone somewhere. I had searched

hard and found no newspapers past 1895, but that could be more do with the old record

keeping, but still it was strange. It was almost as if the town had just stopped, frozen in time

and never moving forward. I had been sent the information just two days ago, and hadn’t

found any more information, unless you count the lack of it. Up until the day the records

stopped, Ridge Rock had been your typical western country town; g**g Fights, hangings,

pistols at dawn. Yesterday I set aside an hour to drive over there, to take a look for myself,

you will have read the report by now. What puzzles me most are the skeletons? No death

records mean no deaths, yet there clearly had been death. I had seen it for myself.

I pondered the thought as I crossed to the kitchen to make coffee. Maybe it would help. As

the machine whirred into life I glanced down at the newspaper articles I had found. This was

the other thing I had noticed, the other strange thing I discovered. It wasn’t about Ridge

Rock exactly, but the area itself. A man had disappeared in the area around Ridge Rock a

couple of decades ago, and old documents had been found in his abandoned car.

Documents about Ridge Rock. He was unnamed in the article, but I was confident he was

like me. At least in as much as the job title, the witch part I wasn’t sure of yet but I had to

find out. I needed to find out who he was, and why he was in Ridge Rock. Not a lot of people

wet hunting around towns with unburied dead. The problem was, he went missing 25 years

ago, a long time to find out anything new. I would have to lot of red tape dodging, and

follow a lot of paper trails. The one not so fun part of my job. Knowing, or at least assuming,

what I did, it meant more than ever I had to watch my back. I shivered as I felt another

shiver down my spine. Something was very very wrong with that place. I tried to ignore the

feeling as I sipped my coffee, maybe doing something productive would make the feeling

going away. The most productive and useful thing I could think of to do, would be to find

out who the missing man was. That meant contacting my mysterious employer. I don’t

make a habit or working for people I have never met; in fact, I have rules against it. But

business was slow, scarily so and when I got the request in the post, the money was too

good to turn down. Rules were made to be broken, and I had to eat.

I rummaged around in my bag for the phone that had been sent with the cheque and the

first lot of papers, along with the details of me being employed. Whoever the man was who

employed me, he was clever. He hadn’t given me a number, just send instructions with the

phone to press redial if I needed him. I did just that, and noticed the number was blocked.

Never seen that before. This just got stranger and stranger.

The phone rang a for a while. I was about to hang up when I heard the familiar click of a

phone being answered.

“Morning Miss Hawton”

He clearly was allowed to know who he was talking to. Wow, I sounded like a child

“What could you possibly need from me this early?”

“Its past 10 already!” I knew perfectly well he didn’t mean early morning, but his tone had

made me feel inferior. No-One is allowed to do that to me.

“I’m Sorry” he replied “I wasn’t aware I had to be that specific about what I meant. What do

you need me for this early in the case?”

I almost hung up in disgust. He had the type of English accent that only came with years of

training, and the attitude to match. Usually meaning he would be a perfect Gentleman in

public, but when behind closed doors. I was already regretting my decision to call him, let

alone the decision to work for him.

“Nothing in particular. Just some answers to a few questions I think you might have”

This man had not yet told me a name, so his flippancy and sarcasm would be met with my

coldness and more flippancy. At least until we were better acquainted. And by that I only

meant me knowing his name.

“Questions? This soon?” He sounded surprised.

I kept it simple. I wanted this conversation over with. I replied with a simple “yes”

“Well Miss Hawton, I hope I can help.”

I hoped he would be co-operative. I didn’t want to have to use my powers on someone I

didn’t know, or over the phone. It defiantly wouldn’t be safe.

“The man who disappeared at Rock Ridge 25 years ago. Who was he?”

“And why do you think I would know that?”

“Call it female intuition” I said quickly, while thinking to myself, premonitions. One of the

powers I had. I have said already I’m a witch, this one of the things I could do. When I first

opened the package I had received, I had seen the back of a man’s head putting the phone,

the cheque and the articles in the envelope that I received. It’s how I knew he must know

something, and how I knew it was a man who hired me.

“You have strong intuition Miss Hawton, if that’s what you want to call it. “

I felt my heart skip a beat. Did he know?

“Yes, I inherited it from my mother.” I lied easily, something else I was good at, but that

wasn’t witchcraft.

“Can you answer my question?” I was pushing my luck and I knew it.

“I honestly don’t know what you think I might know” He replied. I wasn’t sure he was lying

or not. Normally it was something I could tell, another one of my powers. I liked to call it my

inbuilt lie detector. But this was different. Maybe because he wasn’t using definitive

language. I wasn’t sure, it’s not something I’ve been able to do long. I realised I only had one

choice, I reached my mind out to his, after a moment I could feel his will bending to mine. I

tried again.

“I at least thought you would know who he was. You sent me the articles after all.”

“Your Right. I do”

My heart leapt, it had worked!

“But you can pull your mind back. I thank you for showing it to me,”