Whiskey Witches by F.J. Blooding (moboreader .TXT) 📖

Paige turned on the EMF reader as she climbed the stairs to the attic and watched the readings on the red screen. Tru had actually given her the Mel, which she’d seen but had never used before. It had a wire sticking out the top, which meant it was probably directional reliant. It also read temperature, which was pretty cool. She jostled it around and thumped it against her hand to see if the readings would change.

She had to admit. A geeky part of her was excited to be playing with new equipment.

The readings were minimal. The highest reading was a point five, at an electrical box in the unfinished part of the cluttered attic. She sat down in the middle of the room and listened to the silence.

This was the other part of paranormal investigating she didn’t enjoy. The lounge time. Most of every investigation involved sitting around listening to silence. She turned on the camera and set it on the floor several feet in front of her. The light blinked red as she hit record and settled back. The other thing she hated was being on camera…sitting in the dark…listening to nothing…picking her nose.

She let her head fall back, waiting.

The house creaked and groaned. Something tapped the roof on the other side of the attic. Probably a branch from the overhanging tree. She sighed. Fun.

Something touched her neck.

She swiped at it, shivering as her mind raced along what it could potentially be. A spider. A bug. Probably just hair. Though hers was tucked into a long braid, stray hairs happened.

The Mel read at a point two. Nothing.

She turned on the digital voice recorder. “Paige in the attic. Metley Plantation. Bored as crap. Nothing going on. Boys are elsewhere, but can’t hear them. Starting EVP session because I am so completely bored out of my skull. Thanks for giving me no one to talk to, Tru.”

She listened to the silence. Something scraped against the roof.

“Something outside,” she sighed quietly into the mic. “The wind is blowing.”

A dog howled.

Her eyelids half-closed, she brought the recorder to her mouth, supporting her chin on her other hand, and muttered, “Dog.”

Something scurried across the shingles.

She yawned. “Squirrel.”

A box shifted across the floor on the opposite side of the room.

Paige.

She straightened, instantly alert. “Tag this. Something just called my name. Dexx, if this is you, come out.” Though she hadn’t heard anyone clomp up those wooden stairs. They weren’t quiet steps.

She pointed the camera in the direction of the noise, setting it on a box beside her. The camera’s night vision showed boxes and open space on the screen. “Is anyone there?”

Something slid in front of her. She heard it. It sounded heavy like a dresser, maybe? Wood on wood? It wasn’t a box, at least not a cardboard one. She set the Mel down. She needed light and the only thing she had was the flashlight on her key ring.

She dragged herself to her feet and shuffled in that direction, key light in one hand, voice recorder in the other. The floorboards creaked under her weight. She peered around a stack of cardboard boxes.

Paige.

“Sounds like a little girl,” she whispered into the voice recorder. “Leslie, I thought you debunked this place.”

She headed back to the Mel and glanced at the red screen. Three point five. Could be nothing, but the base attic reading had been a point one. “Did you die here? What’s your name?”

The room was silent.

“Please make a sound. Let me know you’re here.” She tightened her lips. “Without scaring me half to death.”

The attic door slammed shut.

Paige screeched, her eyes glued to the door. “Okay.” She tried to control her erratically beating heart. “What do you want? Can I help you?”

A violent force pushed against her. She stumbled as she raised her arms above her head. Something dragged her toward the now open door, hands like icy fire scalding her forearms. Her fingers latched onto the door, closing it on her way through. The force continued to pull her down the tight attic stairs. Her foot twisted. She grabbed at the wall, the railing, anything.

She landed on her back and slid down the remaining three stairs, to a landing, thunking her head against each one on her way down. Her hand caught the banister and she laid there, feeling every step digging into her. She’d lost the voice recorder. Her keys and light were gone too, who knew where.

She took in a deep breath and slowly sat up. She closed her eyes momentarily.

As she opened them, the flashlight turned itself on. Three steps below her.

Her heart froze. The only way to turn the light on was to hold the button.

It stuttered and shut off.

Her chest heaved as she stood, inching along the wall down the other half of the stairs.

“Is everything okay?”

She looked into the beam of Dexx’s flashlight as he turned the corner. She joined him on the second floor and picked up her keys. “Yeah. Peachy.”

“What happened? Did you miss your step?”

“Don’t I wish. Find anything in the basement?”

“Not a damned thing. You?”

“Kinda.”

Dexx took a spare flashlight out of his back pocket, pointed it at his face and turned it on. He jerked away, lighting the stairs with a grimace.

“I think I found a ghost.” Paige searched for her voice recorder afraid to move closer to the stairs. She wanted to get as far away from that attic as she could. “A girl ghost. And she hates me.”

“Really. What did you do to piss her off?”

“Not a clue.”

“Let’s go check it out.” He moved past her to the climb the stairs.

Backing up, Paige kicked her voice recorder. She stooped to pick it up. A chill ran over her as she rose.

Her nostrils flared as she stared around the tiny landing, looking for what had thrown her before.

Dexx stopped about midway up. “What’s wrong?”

“Cold spot.” Her heart raced even though she knew she’d lose cool points if she freaked out. “Dead people. I think there are dead people around me.”

He brought out his video camera. “You talk to demons and get the willies around ghosts?” He flipped the screen. “I don’t see anything.”

Of course, by that time, the cold front had passed and everything felt perfectly normal. She shook herself and trudged up the stairs after Dexx. “I like demons better. I can at least see those.”

“Why don’t you go ahead of me?” He stepped to one side of the narrow stair. “That way if this ghost or whatever does something, I’m here to catch it.”

“Great.” She pushed ahead of him.

“There shouldn’t be anything here. One guy was shot downstairs about a century ago.” Dexx entered the attic and stood by the stair entrance. “Well, and there’s a mirror with the creepy face that sometimes shows up.”

“That one’s easily de-bunked.” Paige looked at the Mel meter, but couldn’t make out the reading. “I don’t un—” Her feet left the floor. She flew across the room. She hit a beam and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

“Holy shit! Paige, you okay?”

She hurt. Every muscle in her body felt bruised. She lifted her head. Her flashlight lay on the floor between her and the door.

Dexx scanned the room with his camera as he approached toward her. “Pea?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice quivered. The cop in her told her to stay, figure out what was going on, but she wanted to get the hell out of there. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah. I think that might be a good idea.”

Together, they gathered her gear and walked carefully out of the room.

“I want to know how she got here,” Dexx said quietly in Paige’s ear as they eased down the rickety, narrow stairs. “She wasn’t here the last time.”

“Could be she just never decided to show herself.”

“Yeah, but who is she? She didn’t show up on any of my research. Like I said, there was only the one guy.”

“What about some little girl who got really sick and just died?”

Dexx moved around her as they moved to the main staircase. “Nope. All the kids that lived in this house lived to ripe old ages.”

“No childhood deaths?” she asked. “At all?”

“None. Let’s go find Tru. There’s one more spot I wanted to check before we left for