Chapter 1: The Paranormal Confrontation

All rights reserved © by Jsovirall

Today is Friday and I have survived the night in the basement. There aren’t so many activities on other days. The paranormal activities take place mostly on Thursdays. For now, I think I am safe—at least that is what I try to believe. Living in a haunted house is utterly frightening and unpredictable. Anything can happen at any time. The anomalous reverberates of undisclosed apparitions can be spine-tingling and not to mention the sudden appearances of what might be ghostly figures. At first, I was skeptical but now I have seen unfathomable things: such things include, paranormal events, indistinct wraiths, poltergeist confrontation, and moving objects.

Last night I heard footsteps creeping up the staircase behind me and when I eventually decided to have a glance behind me there was nothing there. It gave me the creeps. I thought I was having queer hallucinations. Recently I have been having constant premonitions and experiencing slight prognostications. Sometimes my spiritual sight is intercepted by realistic hallucinations that may be linked to projected illusions of unworldly forces at play in my house.

Earlier this morning when I was cooking breakfast I heard some weird sounds coming from upstairs in my room. When I went to my room to check where the strange sounds were coming from I uncovered that some crows were bashing against my room window. I think this house is haunted mainly on Thursdays. Today I have been hearing strange noises coming from the entire house. It is as if the house is alive—it was breathing. Maybe I am getting demented or insomniac has gotten the best of me. I could be wrong but from what was happening to me lately I know that something is going on in my house. I was still a bit skeptical.

"Hey, Mattew. How has this part of the woods been treating you, fella?" My Uncle Nuax asked me with a whiskey in one of his hands. He loved his whiskey in the evening and his orange juice in the night with a little vodka. He knew how to drink his liquor. Uncle Nuax had a habit of stroking his long beard after he sipped his whiskey. The taste of whiskey never gets old for him. Normally on Fridays, Uncle Nuax seemed jovial but today his countenance seemed dull and despaired. His mind was unsettled.

"You seem awfully different today. Is there something bothering you?" I asked curiously.

"I still can’t believe he died. This morning I heard that Tom Hallen died in his bathtub with a wooden cross in his hands. I just don't get it. I talked to him yesterday and everything seemed fine and this morning I heard he was dead. Something is off. His death is mysterious. It is puzzling me. I just can’t seem to find a reasonable explanation." Uncle Nuax proclaimed. Indeed something was strange about Tom Hallen’s death. He was sixty-five years old and a healthy fella for his age. Something didn't add up and I was curious to know more from my Uncle Nuax.

"Uncle, did you see his body?" I asked.

"Yeah, I did. It was horrible."

"How horrible was it?"

"Mr. Hallen was faceless and he had cuts on his entire body. I saw an egg in his mouth which was weird. I think someone killed him." Uncle Nuax replied in confusion. I think something killed Mr. Hallen last night. I don't know what exactly it was but I know it was not human. I will have to investigate Tom Hallen’s death myself to find out what happened. Something mysterious was happening in this town called Liloon. I know there is something unearthly in my basement and it is active on Thursdays. I have time to probe Tom Hallen’s inexplicable death before Thursday. Something killed Tom Hallen and I am going to uncover the truth.

After Uncle Naux left, I proceeded to Tom Hallen’s house. I witnessed an indistinct ghostly figure on the verandah. The apparition had the appearance of a shadow with glowing red eyes. The apparition finally disappeared. Now it was time to proceed to Mr. Hallen's house to uncover his mysterious death. No one was at the house—I could be wrong but I was determined to go into the house. Okay, here goes nothing. I reach on the verandah where the dark ghostly figure was some seconds ago. I was doubtful but my curiosity was getting the best of me. I wanted to know what was in the house. The front door was already opened. The hands of darkness had permeated in the atmosphere of the house with utter control as I gazed upon its cursed face. All the windows in the house were closed. As I entered the house the door mysteriously closed. My heart was rattled in fear but I was determined to disclose the truth about Tom Hallen’s bizarre death. The sudden appearance of Mary Lynn standing at the front door profoundly stung my heart with fright. Mary Lynn was Tom Hallen's wife. I thought she was gone. The house seemed abandoned from outside. Why would Mary Lynn be residing in the clouds of darkness within her dwelling place? The rationales were unexplained.

"Mattew, what are you doing here? I just finished closing up the place and was about to leave."

"I didn't know that anyone was here. I am sorry."

"Hmm...What are you up to Mattew?"

"I was curious about how your husband died in the bathtub. What was he doing the day before he died?" I asked.

Mary Lynn had a weird expression on her face—it was as if she was hiding something from me that she didn't want me to know. She folded her arms and fixed her eyes on me. Her skin looked very pale like a corpse that was at the morgue.

"You want to know what happened to my husband the day before he died, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, follow me upstairs, and let me show you." Mary Lynn responded. While she was going upstairs the lights came on. She didn't even touch the switches. Anyway, Mary Lynn and I proceeded to the bathroom where her husband died yesterday. The bathroom was properly clean. It was as if Tom Hallen didn’t die yesterday. There was no evidence to discover. My phone rang: It was Uncle Naux calling me.

"Hello," I answered politely.

"Mattew, there is something you should know."

"What?"

"Some police officers just found Mary Lynn's body near the lake. She is dead. Where are you?" He asked me. Immediately the reception was disconnected. I was dismayed by the news my Uncle just relayed to me. If Mary Lynn was dead. Who was I talking to? My spine started tingling while my heart pushed against my chest aggressively. I was stung by the fangs of fear. When I turned around Mary Lynn had vanished into the dormant wind of the house. I didn’t even hear when she departed from the room.

Suddenly, all of the lights turned off simultaneously. Without hesitation, I switched on my flashlight and continued recording as I waited for the hands of darkness to attack me. I couldn't believe that I was conversing with an apparition a minute ago. I realized that I was deceived by a spirit that claimed to be Mary Lynn. I had become a victim in its trap. Bam! Bam! Bam! An unseen ghostly figure pounded the walls of the room loudly. I heard unexplained growling coming from downstairs. Terror had stood before me but I was adamant to egress the room and investigate the sounds that tainted my ears continually. Cowardly I ambled out of the room. I saw red glowing eyes looking at me. My head felt heavy by the negative force of the entity I gazed upon. I could hear an indistinct ringing sound tingling in my ears while every hair on my body erected to the calling of something unknown. I reckon it was the same apparition that I saw earlier on the verandah. I had to find a way out of the haunted house before night comes. I didn’t want to be trapped in a house with demonic spirits that wanted to devour my soul. I wasn’t going to let the hands of darkness detain me. I ran and smashed through the window. I landed on the ground outside. Fear had swallowed my body so I was numb to pain temporarily. I ran as fast as I could without even glancing back at the house. I barely escaped.

Today is Sunday and I am still alive. Two days ago I barely made it out alive out of Tom Hallen's house. I sprained my wrist but I think I will be okay. Yesterday Dr. Jean put a bandage around my wrist. She said she was going to visit me today to check on me. To be honest, I have always had a crush on Dr. Jean but I couldn't be man enough to tell her. I couldn’t expose my compassion to her because I was afraid of a distasteful feminine rejection—I have experienced a few rejections and inconsolable moments. Rejections can be bitter but they reflect the truth. I have always been a shy guy. I think my problem is struggling psychologically to disclose my suppressed feelings. I have always been a pessimist when it comes to women.

I was still bemused by Mary Lynn and Mr. Hallen's death. I just didn’t comprehend what occurred. Today I am going to be an easy-going person rather than an investigator or a curious ghost hunter. I will wait for Jean to arrive at my house. Jean and I have been best friends for sixteen years and I never make ‘The Move’ on her. She is always there for me. I remember when I was in an accident two years ago, she cried because she thought I was going to shake hands with death. She even took a week off to make sure I was okay. She is a caring woman. I love her very much but I never really try to tell her. I guess I am not ready for a relationship. I don't even know what to say to women. I guess some women like shy men because they love a challenge. I can only speculate. Speaking of speculation. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mary Lynn and Mr. Hallen. The way they died puzzled me. I needed more information. I will have to go to the spot at the lake where the police officers found Mary Lynn's body. I will probably do that later.

After patiently waiting for two hours at my house, Jean Smith (Dr. Jean) finally arrived. She wore a beautiful red dress and she had a stylish black purse. Her impression was that of a model or perhaps a classical display of feminine fashion. Damn, Jean was exquisitely dressed. I wanted to pluck her like a chicken. Maybe I have expressed my thoughts wrongfully. I would like to sip the erotic wine of Jean and taint her with compassion. I don't know why I am saying these seduction statements because Jean is my best friend. I don’t think she would fancy someone like me. She is a doctor. I am just a common bloke fascinated by the likes of Jean. I am sure many men find her fascinating. Temptation was scratching the surface of my shyness while I gazed upon Jean’s physique. I wanted to be the bee that pollinated her blossom with a natural remedy. What has gotten into me? Jean always looks nice. She walked on the verandah. Her bosom looked at me and declined my head to deface my temptation. Jean examined my injured wrist and kissed my cheek. My phallus slightly moved. Oh my God! Her pink lips felt soft and moist. All of the blood was leaving my head and entering my unlit cigar. I was experiencing a slight hyperventilation phase.

"So aren't you gonna tell me what really happened to your wrist, Mattew?" Jean asked. I just wanted to tear the red dress off her seductive body and expose her nudeness. My perverted ways were affecting my manner of thinking. I composed myself.

"It's a long story so I don't want to get into that now. How are your breasts by the way? I mean, how have you been?"

"Work has been hard these days. It's not easy being a doctor. I have already sent in my resignation letter. I have been a doctor for twelve years. I am tired now. I want a life of freedom. I want a child of my own. I want to be a mother." She said. She was really tired and that was true. I want to tell her that I have loved her but I didn’t think it was the right time I guess. I sat on the porch and she sat next to me. She was a demon of indirect seduction and temptation. I could see her cleavage. I think Jean was deliberately trying to seduce me. Maybe now was a good time to expose my compassion to her. I couldn’t pronounce the words—I was speechless for about a minute and then she started talking to me. I was shivering like a wet dog. She noticed. I informed her that I felt cold. Jean has been the only lady in my life that I have talked to. Most of the women I see nowadays were ghosts. I never really have a girlfriend. I don't know anything about loving someone and being in a relationship. I do everything for myself. That is just the way my mom grew me. I don't share my bed and house among other things. Jean had visited my house many times and slept in my house but I never try to force myself onto her or anything like that. Whenever she was sick, I cook, clean, and take care of her. I wash her clothes too and she does the same for me. I am scared. I think I am freaking out. How am I going to tell her that I love her? Love is not a word that should be pronounced in front of a woman that may not or may have feelings for you. Why do I feel so highly strung?

"Mattew, what's wrong with you? I am trying to have a conversation with you. Why are perspiring like that?"

"Uhm—yeah, sure. I know" I uttered anxiously. I couldn’t suppress my anxiety.

"What's wrong? You are acting differently. What's bothering you?"

"It's nothing," I replied like an idiot. She went inside the house for a bottle of water. I followed her. She unlatched the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. As she closed the refrigerator I embraced her gently from behind. That was the only thing I was brave enough to do. I almost fainted. I hoped she didn't think that I was a pervert or anything like that. I was trying to give her a hint that I love her. I had my arms around her. I was not going to let her go no matter what.

"Mattew, what are you doing?" Jean asked.

"I don't know how to tell you"

"Tell me what? What do you want to tell me?"

"I am scared. I am shy."

"You don't have to be shy you know. We have known each other for fourteen years now. There is nothing to be shy about." Jean responded. She turned around and hugged me. I didn't expect that she would do that.

"Jean"

"Yes, Mattew."

"I have always been in love with you. I have always loved you but I just didn't know how to tell you. I love you, Jean." I confessed. My heart almost exploded.

"I have always loved you too. I am glad you told me. I love you so much. Why did you take so long?" She said with tears in her eyes. She kissed me.

She put the bottle of water on the kitchen counter and then we started kissing romantically. Her lips were as sweet as the roses that grew naturally in the beauty of nature. Her soft melons rubbed against my chest as she pulled my shirt off hastily to quench the desires she had for me. Slowly I rubbed her round bum while she kissed my sensitive neck. Thine hands have gotten bolder by the minute as we both became sexually heated for each other. It was finally happening—the moment I have longed for. The time of sexual awakening. Jean removed her dress moderately. I gazed upon her womanly figure that was well sweetened by the hands of Mother Nature that awaited my touch of divinity. Jean’s hands massaged my body as she pressed against me gently. She pulled my lips with her lips of cherry. I trembled as she engulfed me in the pleasures of life. This feeling that I felt was truly in-depth love two persons could share. Such movements of desires heightened my feeling of love. Uncontrollable I was as I moved my hips in a circular motion to the rhythm of such desires. She shivered to the beat of her own summoning and continued once again--the feminine role of sexuality. The love of my life has poured out her love to me. She has filled my cup with the wine of romance. We have both loved each other for so long and kept it a secret.

Now, my bed had the most beautiful woman in it that I love and adore—Jean Smith. The woman of my dreams. She fell asleep but my lust wasn't over. I glided on her. She opened her eyes, smiled and we started the beat of love once again. She couldn't stop smiling and I couldn’t resist kissing her. We both fell asleep after we finished making love. 

Read Chapter 2

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