Impressions

         The real estate agent listed the house as "a unique fixer upper opportunity" and was evasive as to why the house had been on the market for so long. Still, it was quite a bargain compared to anything else they had seen and it mainly needed a lot of cleanup, painting and dump runs to get the old place looking like the next cover of This Old House. Adam wasn't afraid of a little hard work and Nancy was pretty good with her hands so they used most of the inheritance Adam's father had left them and bought it. It was the only way they would be able to buy this house; no lender was going to finance the Lichtenstein place.
         An evening of celebrating was a well deserved break from the long days of house hunting and living out of a motel room. They were tired but pleased to be spending the first night in their own home even if it was in sleeping bags on the floor.  As they began unzipping and spreading out the sleeping bags, a loud "thud" followed by several "thwak, thwak, thwak" sounds broke the silence.
         "What was that?" Nancy wondered aloud.
         "Probably the hot-water heater and those old pipes. They looked like they were installed about the time the wheel was invented," Adam replied.
         With a few days before he had to start his new job, Adam wanted to get a few of the necessities working before his time would be limited to evenings and weekends. First on the list was to take a look at the plumbing. That old hot-water heater made a lot of noise and produced mostly rusty warm water which Nancy declared was not fit for bathing in, and she was not going to heat water on the stove for another day.
         Two hours after starting, with a few skinned knuckles Adam had wrestled the behemoth of a water heater out of the corner where it sat for untold years. With the corner now empty he spotted an old yellowed newspaper clipping lying on the floor.
August 16, 1954 Brutal Murders in Plattsmouth -- The family of Robert Lichtenstein III was found today apparently murdered while they slept. The remains of Elizabeth and Robert were found in their bed brutally attacked with a pick or an axe mutilated almost beyond recognition, along with their 8 year old daughter Wilma, discovered in the cellar.
         Adam felt a cold chill at what he'd just read. He didn't believe in ghosts but still this wasn't something he would show Nancy, she wouldn't understand that this was all history and had no bearing on them today. He stuffed the old newsprint into the pocket of his overalls and set about installing the new water heater. He couldn't keep from feeling that he was not alone and turned his head several times to see if someone was there, but only the empty room and a few spiders were among his company.
         Adam wandered up the stairs to the second floor where he heard a boom-box playing Enya and surveyed Nancy's work with the smell of fresh paint invading his nostrils.
         "You need a shower," Nancy observed, glancing at Adam as she re-loaded her paint roller with peach colored latex.
         "Should have the hot water for it now," Adam replied taking a long pull from the bottle of beer he'd just opened. His red hair was strewn with cob webs and his freckled face was smeared with streaks of dirt and rivers of mud from perspiration.
         "Congratulations! I look forward to a long hot bath."
         "Looks like you're gonna need another coat," Adam said pointing with his beer bottle at a dark spot on the wall.
         Nancy scowled at the spot. "I have re-painted that spot three times now!"
         "Hm, maybe we need some stain-sealer." Adam's thoughts drifted back to the newsprint stuffed in his pocket. The possibility that it was a blood stain crossed his mind and he quickly dismissed it.
         Adam's first day on his new job was pretty easy. His friend Greg, who had helped him get hired, took him around the base an introduced him to most of the people he would need to deal with and show him where the basic services, like Burger King, were located. He and Greg had been stationed together in Spokane and become instant friends.
         That night after his first day on the new job, Adam headed off to the basement to adjust the thermostat on the new water heater. Nancy liked scalding hot baths and claimed that the temperature was just too low for a decent bath, even though Adam had set it in accordance with the instructions that came with the heater. As he reached for the pull-chain, he thought he heard something moving but when the white light flooded the cramped compartment, he didn't see anything there, just the slow waves of light dancing across the walls as the bulb swung gently back and forth.
         He didn't think anything more of it and went on about his mission in the next room. As he was screwing the last screw into the cover that hid the thermostat controls, he felt a slight tug at the back of his shirt which caused him to jump and drop his screwdriver. To his surprise, there was no one there, which his brain assured him made sense as he hadn't heard anyone come down the creaky stairway.
         I am imagining things now! Adam thought as he searched for his escape screwdriver. It had obliged Murphy's Law and rolled behind the water heater all the way to the corner and Adam was straining to reach the petulant tool.
         He just had his finger tips on the screwdriver rolling it toward him to get a grasp on it when he jerked up, feeling a small hand give his shoulder a shake.
         "Hey mister, what are you doing?" The small voice queried.
         "Who are you?" Adam demanded, rather perturbed at the unexpected little visitor.
         "I live here,” she said as she stood there holding a dirty cloth doll that mirrored her own tattered appearance. She had disheveled, blonde shoulder length hair and tired blue eyes.
         "I think you must be confused, you might have used to play here, but we own this house now. You better run along home... uh, what's your name anyway?"
         "Billie," she answered.
         Adam started toward her, "Come on, we'll find your home." But as he approached her she disappeared before his eyes.
         "Jesus Christ!" Adam breathed, and felt the cold air in front of him with outstretched hands. Forgetting the screwdriver he stood there for a moment looking around the room wide-eyed trying to comprehend what had just happened.
         "Adam, you about done?" Nancy called from the top of the stairs.
         Adam was just getting to the bottom of the stairs.
         "What's wrong? You're white as a ghost," Nancy asked oblivious to the pun.
         "I just saw a little girl... I mean a ghost... the ghost of a little girl," Adam sputtered.
***
         Nancy had unpacked the last of their belongings destined for the bedroom. At least now it was looking like a bedroom instead of a construction zone. She had finished the wall-papering and painting then cleaned up all the supplies that went along with such activities the day before the new carpet was laid. The once dreary room was now bright and cheery smelling like fresh paint and new carpet. An antique mirror that they found in the attic was the last touch; it would go great over the half round queen-anne table. The mirror was oval in shape and the frame was a series of curls with a fleur-de-lis at the top with a gold finish. After she had adjusted it she stepped back to check how level it was giving it a visual inspection. As she gazed across the wall, her attention was suddenly jerked back to the mirror, instead of seeing their sleigh bed all made up with the comforter and extra pillows, she saw an unmade iron-frame bed with two mutilated corpses.
         Nancy whirled around to look directly at the bed and saw only her neatly made bed the way it should have appeared. Uncomprehendingly she turned back to the mirror and saw the same neatly made bed and her ashen face contrasted by her long brunette hair. Her pulse raced and her eyes were wide as she looked back and forth from the mirror to the bed trying to decide what had just happened. Maybe she just needed to relax a little she thought and tried to shake off the chill that struck her to the bone.
         The smell of simmering chicken soup took her attention away from the macabre vision as she descended the narrow switch-back staircase. She made her way to the large kitchen where nothing was convenient. A painted wooden cabinet stood next to the old white porcelain stove that she took a large wooden spoon from in one hand and grabbed a pot holder with the other. She lifted the cast iron lid from the dutch oven to give the soup a stir and taste. As she lifted the lid and looked into the contents she dropped the lid on the floor and shrieked wildly. Looking back at her was a small girl’s face.
         "I admit, when you told me you saw the ghost in the basement I was a little skeptical," Nancy told Adam. She spoke calmly now by the time Adam was able to make it home from work. "But now I know why you looked so pale. I was so scared I ran out of the house and had to get the neighbor to go look before I would go back in, and then I made him come in with me."
         "We have to do something, this is insane, Nanc," Adam said pouring her a cup of tea.
         "I could do some poking around in town and see if anybody knows anything," Nancy offered.
         "Damn! I forgot to tell you about the newspaper clipping I found in the basement. A family was murdered here in the fifties," Adam remembered.
         "That could be it, maybe the people who were murdered are trying to tell us something. I wonder if there is something to what happened that could be atoned for to get them to leave," Nancy said over the steam of the her tea cup.
***
         Removing the old furnace wasn't too difficult, but it required two people to lift and carry the awkward and heavy old furnace up the steep stairs out of the cellar.  With the old furnace now lying on the lawn next to the alley, Adam and Greg grabbed a cold beer and headed back down into the cellar to clean up the area where it had sat churning out warmth to fight the cold Nebraska winters for so many years.
         The old furnace had sat against a wall on the southern side of the cellar where the room appeared to end, not extending fully under the kitchen. The now empty space revealed a gap in the original stone foundation that had been bricked in, and not a terrific job of it from the appearance.
         "Hey, it looks like this cellar was bigger and got bricked off for some reason. You might have another room behind these bricks," Greg noticed, eyeing the loose mortar and uneven courses of brick.
         "You might be right, if I have them put the new furnace over to the right side we could use that space. Nancy has big plans for canning." Adam took a drink of beer and considered taking on yet more work on the house when the list was already too long.
         Greg walked over and wiggled a loose brick which easily came out in his hand. He looked at the brick and then to Adam who shrugged. Within a few minutes with just their hands they had worked out a half a dozen bricks. It was still too dark to see if anything was concealed in the new found space and Adam was about to go get a flashlight.
         A putrid black smoke poured through the opening and took on the form of an ethereal man with eyes that glowed like burning red coals. He wore soiled, tan cotton-duck trousers with suspenders, a tattered blue collar-less button-up shirt and a driver's cap. The specter stood before them paralyzing them in terror and wonder at what kind of evil they had awakened from its bricked-in tomb. He looked from one of the men to the other and a sinister smile twisted his lips as he slowly dissipated into the chilly air before their unbelieving eyes as evil laughter echoed from the stone walls.
         "What the fuck was that!" Adam whispered, barely able to breath.
         "I...I don't know," Greg stammered.
         "I don't even believe in that shit!"
         "Let's get the fuck outta here!"
         Adam and Greg each opened a beer and downed it in one draught. They sat down at the picnic table with Nancy and opened another and began to tell her about the room and the ghost that poured out like a genie from the bottle.
         "If we could prove this house is haunted from some gruesome killings, get proof on video tape or something, I bet we could sell it for a lot of money!" Nancy exclaimed, weighing the possibilities. "I heard that The Enquirer has a standing offer of one million dollars for proof of life after death." Nancy had joined them for a couple and by this point the beer was making them all a little braver.
         Nancy finished reading the instructions on the Sony digital camcorder she had just purchased and began to set it up on the tripod in their bedroom. Her research on the house indicated that most of the violence had taken place in the bedroom they occupied and it was the most likely place where she might capture a spectral image or at least an orb flitting about.
         "They aren't really ghosts, they're just impressions like the tape I am making," she told the empty room as a shiver raised goose flesh on her neck.
         Her research had started with the local library, she learned that the house they had bought had indeed seen more than it's share of tragedy through the years. The newspaper article that Adam had found was followed up by others reporting that the murders remained unsolved crimes and referenced the previous murders of the victim's parents. In fact, all the Lichtenstein's that had lived here had met with violent deaths. The local newspaper recounted how the builder had gone missing about the time the house was finished.  It seemed Robert Lichtenstein had fallen under some suspicion between arguments with the builder and the downturn in his once prosperous business. He was never formally charged but a few years after he and his wife took up residence in the house, they too came to an untimely demise.
         Nancy had always had a passing interest in paranormal activity and watched television programs on the subject whenever she happened to catch one. One theory held that events charged with high emotion -- like murder -- could be imprinted on things and places and certain people were more perceptible to those impressions than others.
         Nancy drummed her fingers on the edge of the wooden chair she sat in then looked at her watch for the fifth time in ten minutes. She set down her iced-tea and headed to the stairs to visit the bathroom. The same "thwak, thwak, thwak" they had heard the first night they spent in the house mixed with the sound of her foot-falls, but it was too faint to tell where it was coming from. When she reached the top of the stairs the noise grew louder, emanating from the bedroom she'd just left. She ran back to the door and froze in her tracks. The ghostly apparition of a man stood at the side of the bed with an axe. Blood was spattered over him, the walls, the sheets and the two corpses that were lying in the bed.
         She drew in a gasp of breath and made a faint whimper that caused the ghostly figure to turn from his continual chopping at the mutilated corpses and look her in the eyes. Turning on the camcorder never entered her mind. The figure started toward her and she tried to run but her rubber legs betrayed her in this day-mare just like in the night-time versions. She finally got moving and tripped over the camcorder and tripod landing on her side on the pine-floor of the hallway in a tangle of equipment and cords. He was standing beside her when she looked up; the stench made her want to vomit.
         "You don't belong here," he said looking down at her, his red eyes glowing. He seemed to turn from vaporous form into a solid form momentarily. "You aren't a Lichtenstein, leave at once or join them!" With that he evaporated into nothing leaving cold, putrid air behind.
         Nancy's heart threatened to beat out of her chest and her jeans were warm and dark with her own urine. Unwanted tears streamed down her face and she angrily bit her lip. As she got up she noticed that blood had dripped from the specter's axe onto her hand even though he and the corpses were now gone, and the stain on the wall had grown darker now and there were more of them around the bed.
         As she cleaned up the mess she thought about what she had seen and heard, could this be the builder of the house who was never heard from again? Was he killed by Robert Lichtenstein and been here avenging his death ever since? It all made sense, but there must be some way to break the curse and send this restless spirit to rest in peace. This idea spurred a welcome trip to an occult shop she'd seen in Omaha.
         "We should just leave," Adam responded when Nancy finished telling him about her close encounter.
         "Believe me, there's a big part of me that wants us to just get the hell out of here and never look back. But I may've found a way to make this stop," Nancy said pulling out the dilapidated leather-bound book she bought that afternoon.
         "What's that?"
         "It's called a Book of Shadows..."
         "Book of Shadows? You mean like spells and stuff?" Adam interrupted looking at the ancient text hopefully. His normally scientific mind was perfectly willing to try something unscientific since none of this seemed explainable by science anyway.
         "Yes, it's what witches use to record magical spells, rituals and stuff like that," Nancy said carefully, looking for a skeptical expression from her husband. "It has a section on restless spirits," she explained. "It says here 'if the body isn't buried on consecrated ground, the spirit often will haunt the place where death occurred,' and I betcha the original Lichtenstein killed the builder here in this house."
         "He probably killed him, put the body in there the room in the cellar and bricked it up to hide the evidence."
         "That's what I was thinking too, but why would he care if you found his body?" Nancy asked.
         "I don't know, maybe he knows that if his body is taken and buried he will have to move on and he doesn't want to leave."
         "We need to get his remains and bury them in a cemetery."
         "All right, I am going down there and get his remains right now. I want you to wait up here, you hear me?"
         "But I can help you!"
         "I'll be ok, promise me you'll stay up here?"
         "Ok, I'll wait," she acquiesced. "But if this doesn't work or anything gets weirder, we're leaving!"
         "Call Greg, tell him what's going on and see if he can come give me a hand, ok?"
         "Why don't you wait for him?"
         "No, I want to get this over with. I love you," Adam said kissing her.
         "Love you too."
         Within a few minutes he had opened the wall enough that he could enter the dark cave-like room. He shone his flashlight around and found what he suspected would be in there, the bony remains of a man lying in the middle of the small room. The skeleton still wore the rotted remains of the clothes he had worn on the last day he breathed and an axe lay near the body stained dark brown with dried blood.
         Adam grabbed the bones of what had once been the builder of this cursed house and quickly threw them into a box. He was surrounded by the sounds of ghastly screaming and laughing and that voice, the voice of death telling him to give up. He was condemned to spend eternity in this house with the other souls trapped here. It was Adam's house and he refused to be frightened away, this had to stop right here, right now.
         As he started to make his way out of the tomb, the same wraith he'd seen before appeared before him and started to speak, "I can't let you do this, Adam."
         "Game's over, I'm burying you in the cemetery and you can go to Hell where you belong, you bastard!"
         An axe materialized in the beast's hands and he swung at Adam causing him to drop the box and scattering the bones across the dirt floor of the cellar.
         "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak!" taunted the specter. "You're finished and you know it." Again he swung the axe through the air and this time connected with Adam's left arm sinking deep into his triceps with a sickening thud.
         Adam screamed and tore his bleeding appendage from the axe scurrying back to the corner of the tomb while holding his arm with his other hand. He felt the warmth of his blood coursing out between his fingers and wondered how bad it was. He looked down to quickly take stock of his arm and was amazed to find that there was no injury at all, it was perfectly normal. Just then he looked up to see the axe crashing down into his face as it dematerialized along with the ghostly apparition that had been wielding it.
         It had all been illusion. Quickly he started gathering the bones again into the box, but there were several large spiders crawling over them. It had to be another illusion to paralyze him into inaction. He steeled himself and grabbed a bone but the spider did not disappear, it crawled from the bone onto his hand causing him to drop it and retract his hand as if it had been burned.
         "Shit!" He exclaimed as the spider fell to the floor and retreated into the darkness. Carefully, he picked each piece up and shook off any spiders before dropping it into the box.
         Once again he started for the stairs to escape the cellar and bury the remains of the builder and end this curse. The apparition appeared as an old rotting corpse this time between him and the stairs and Adam felt a cold shiver run up his neck, only now the apparition's countenance appeared to take on solid form. Adam hesitated as he watched the specter position the axe to strike again, he feared this time it would not be an illusion.
         "I am trying to help you!"
         "This is my house! You and your misses will be accompanying me and the rest now so you might as well put my bones back where you found them," the wraith said slowly moving closer to Adam.
         "Don't you see? I am going to bury you properly so you can rest in peace!"
         "It's you that doesn't see. I built this house and it's here that I belong. That villainous Lichtenstein not only refused to pay me but murdered me to boot, so I decided I would remain here forever and kill any who trespassed. I warned you and your misses because you aren't from that loathsome family of thieves, but you chose to ignore my warning so you will die." With that he swung the axe at Adam and caught his shoulder, only this time Adam immediately felt the pain and fell to the floor dropping the box again.
         "You bastard!" Adam yelled holding his wounded shoulder.
         A shot rang out like thunder in the cellar and just as the axe came down it once again turned vaporous along with the wraith as he cursed and  disappeared.
         Greg came down the stairs holding a Glock 9mm pistol in his hand.
         "Nancy called and said you might need a hand," Greg said smiling. "Looks like the calvary got here just in time," he said looking at Adam's bloody shoulder.
         "We better get you to the hospital..."
         "No, we gotta get these bones buried in a cemetery proper, it’s the only way to get rid of this guy," Adam said trying to pick up the box with his good arm.
         Again the wraith appeared before them still in the ethereal form looking menacing as ever. It occurred to Adam that there was a pattern to the specter taking on solid form. It seemed to feed off the fear of the victim, when he was absolutely terrified, it changed into the solid form and could inflict physical harm but when it was gaseous, it was powerless to harm them.
         "Greg, don't be afraid, it feeds off our fears."
         "What?" Greg fired off another round from the Glock and it ricocheted off the walls causing them both to hunker down trying to avoid the path of the renegade bullet.
         "It only seems to take on solid form when I've been really scared, I think as long as we aren't afraid it'll remain like a ghost and can't hurt us." He had lost a lot of blood and was fighting to remain conscious.
         The specter started to change before their eyes and grew into a fierce looking beast with blue veins bulging out of his translucent skin, long, sharp teeth, pointed ears and horns protruding from his over-sized head.
         Greg fired a couple more shots but the beast just laughed and his heart sank in his chest. The beast turned from gaseous to solid again and Adam passed out. Greg knew it was up to him now, if he didn't act quickly he and his friend were going to be mercilessly butchered by this demon from hell.
         Fear was the key and he had to find it within him not to be afraid no matter what he saw. Quickly, Greg closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He conjured up an image of the beast as a small and helpless insect and watched a movie in his mind of him stepping on the insect and squashing it under his boot. He held this image in his mind as he slowly opened his eyes. The beast was closer but he was phasing between solid and gaseous form. Again he closed his eyes and repeated the movie in an endless loop. He forced himself to smile and then start to laugh at the whole scene. The more he laughed the less scared he felt and he saw the beast was back to gaseous form.
         Grabbing the box of bones he continued to laugh and see the demon as a weak powerless bug that he could easily destroy. The best thing he could do was take the bones and bury them, calling 911 for Adam from his cell phone on the way to the cemetery. As he left he heard Adam moan and a sinister laugh follow that knotted Greg's stomach worse than it had been already.
***
         When Greg got back to the house there was an ambulance and a couple of Cass county sheriff's vehicles parked in the alley with their emergency lights painting the surrounding trees and buildings in blues and reds.  He ran into the house and there were several officers standing around taking notes and Nancy was talking to one of them in the kitchen. When she saw him she started to sob and he felt a lump in this throat.
         One of the officers asked, "Are you Greg Holt?"
         "Yes, is Adam... ok?" Greg asked, already knowing the answer.
         "Mr. Holt, you are under the arrest for the murder of Adam Tate." The officer stated as he hand-cuffed Greg and continued to Mirandize him, "You have the right to remain silent..."
         "It wasn't him!" Nancy sobbed to no avail as they took Greg away.
***
         Nancy hadn't stayed in the house since the night Adam was killed. The first floor was packed up with stacks of boxes neatly standing in the corners of the rooms. The movers were ready to start on the upstairs bedroom next. She looked around the room and felt a wave of loneliness wash over her missing her best friend and lover. As they started packing the various belongings, Nancy grabbed a few things that she wanted for her overnight bag.
         "Does this mirror go?" One of the packers asked pointing to the gold framed mirror.
         Nancy glanced at the mirror and for a moment, Adam was there looking back at her, a sad, tormented look haunting his face. The image disappeared and Nancy wondered if it was her imagination or Adam's ghost. Impressions, Nancy thought.
         "The mirror belongs with this house," she said and left.