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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Supernatural · #1282526
Paranormal Investigation Bureau (case files): File #1 - Poltergeist
Jonathon took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. If he was tense, Sarah would be tense, and the last thing he needed was a jittery questioner when he entered the Astral Plane.

“Okay, here’s what you have to do,” Jonathon began, wishing the woman wasn’t allergic to cats. He needed his familiar on this one. “After a while, I’ll start looking like I’ve fallen asleep; that means my spirit body has crossed over. You then need to ask me three questions, and please try to phrase them as simply as possible. Ask who I am, to which I should reply ‘I am the one called Nightfire.’”

“Why ‘Nightfire?’” Sarah asked.

“It’s my spirit name. Then ask me where I am; the answer is ‘Before the Gates of Dream.’ If I tell you within the gates, call Frank; he’s number one on speed dial.” Jonathon handed her a cell phone. “The same if I answer the first question wrong. The third question is ‘who are you looking for?’ and I should answer ‘Sarah McClellan’s poltergeist.’”

“And if you don’t, call Frank,” Sarah finished. “Why can’t he be the one doing this? I’m afraid I’m going to do something wrong.”

At that, the doorknob rattled loudly and there was a thump in the hall. Jonathon looked up and glared at it, and Sarah eyed the door nervously.

“Because it’s your ghost,” Jonathon answered, not in the least bit nervous. “Now, first order of business is to take care of that. Damn ghost.”

“This is why I hired you,” Sarah whispered, nervous. “I keep hearing that in the middle of the night. And the wailing…” she shuddered.

“I’ll take care of it,” Jonathon said. “That’s my job, after all.” He got up, picking up the salt shaker, and laid down a circle of salt around the two of them in the mostly empty room. “Anything you see or hear the ghost do cannot hurt you once you’re in the circle. Just… don’t break it.” Sarah nodded, and Jonathon sat down on his pile of cushions, arranging himself in a comfortable position. Then he lit the large pillar candle in the center of the circle and relaxed, staring into the flame.

It danced in his mind, luring him beyond the boundaries of the physical, drawing him slowly through the gateway of the Astral, into the plane of spirit. That was as far as he would go; inside the Spirit Gate, never into the Dream Gate. That was the realm of the Fay, and they didn’t take kindly to being disturbed.

Sarah watched nervously as Jonathon’s breathing became regular, his eyes slipping half-closed. The doorknob rattled again and there was a crash in the hallway, and Sarah flinched. She hoped the poltergeist hadn’t broken anything especially valuable.

Jonathon’s spirit body pushed upward and out of his physical body, and he slumped. Now, he was Nightfire.

Nightfire drew himself up straight, watching the flame, letting the real world fade away into the dismal grey landscape of the Spirit. Facing him were the twin spires and the ghostly silver fencing of the Spirit Gate, flanked on either side by the Hounds that guarded it. Flaring his astral wings, made of light and fire, he walked straight to it.

::I am Nightfire, here on official business within the Astral. I demand to be permitted.::

One of the Hounds looked up at him and his fiery wingspan and nodded. ::Nightfire is well known to us,:: it howled, and both leaves of the gate swung open. Jonathon stepped within it.

As soon as he entered, almost all eyes were on him. He had credit in the Spirit plane; he worked here more often than not on his various jobs. Most of the spirits that looked at him quickly looked away from his shining spirit body; he was the brightest thing this side of reality.

He didn’t look behind him, and didn’t see the poltergeist he had come to look for step between his back and the still-open gate. The Hounds snapped ineffectually at it; it was too far away, and the Hounds could only go so far from the gate without spirits streaming through to the Real plane.

Sarah watched as Jonathon sagged and waited a couple of minutes, just to make sure he had really entered what he called the Astral. She wasn’t sure if she believed in astral projection and whatnot, but a few months in the house with the poltergeist had her ready to believe almost anything.

“Who are you?” she asked, staring hard at him from across the circle.

There was no answer.

Nightfire paused. He could have sworn he heard someone call for him. Shrugging, he continued deeper into the Spirit, seeking an old ally here. They would know if anyone would where Sarah’s poltergeist was.

Sarah clenched her hands and leaned forward a little. “Who are you?” she repeated to Jonathon’s still form.

Still no answer.

Now Nightfire knew someone had called him. “I am the one called Nightfire,” he said aloud to the Spirit plane. There was a burst of light at his back, traveling backwards down the cord that stretched from in between his shoulder blades, out the gate and to his physical body.

The poltergeist batted the ball of light aside, sending it astray. Nightfire never noticed that the message didn’t reach its destination, concentrating on finding his informant.

Sarah picked up the cell phone, her hands shaking, and dialed one. It rang three times, one of the most agonizing waits of her life. Outside, there was a screech and a loud thump, and Sarah couldn’t help but scream.

“Hello?” Frank’s voice came over the line.

“H-hello? This is Sarah – I mean, Ms. McClellan. There’s something wrong – Jonathon told me to ask him something and he didn’t answer, he’s already tranced and I don’t know how to bring him out!”

Frank swore violently. “I’ll be right there,” he said. Sarah heard her front door slam and feet pounding up the stairs. There was a shout of surprise and a crash, and then Frank dove through the door, slamming it behind him. He stopped at the edge of the circle.

“Damn it! I’ll have to talk you through it; I can’t break the circle, which would be very bad.”

“Talk me through what?! I don’t know how to do any of this! That’s why I hired you!” Sarah’s hands shook.

“Calm down and stare into the candle,” Frank snapped. “You can’t project if you don’t let go of this world. Now listen to me very carefully. You’ll feel yourself start to lose touch with reality; go with it. Once you leave your body, you’re going to feel this world fading away. Relax, and let it. Then you’ll come to a gate. It’ll probably be open. There will be two Hounds guarding it; you have to tell them you’re searching for Nightfire, or they won’t let you in.”

“I can’t do this!” Sarah said, shaking her head.

“You have to,” Frank hissed. “I can’t project.”

“Then what good are you?”

Frank glared at her. “I make sure he doesn’t pour too much of his energy into a spell, and I make sure he doesn’t die, okay? Just listen!”

“What makes you think I can?!”

“Because Jonathon wouldn’t have let you be the questioner if you didn’t have any magical potential! He would have called someone else in that could go after him!” Frank yelled, fed up. “You have to go after him.”

Sarah was startled, blinking at him for a minute. She shook herself and stared at the candle.

It was so strange, feeling the real world melt away. She felt light, airy, and her back muscles were tensed horribly. Her vision began to fade to gray and white and silver and she panicked.

The real world came rushing back almost instantly. She bit her lip and tried again, this time taking deep, steadying breaths.

Frank let out a sigh of relief that was broken with a yell as the door behind him flung itself open, hitting him in the back and pitching him forward. He managed to catch his balance just in time, stopping short of falling through the circle. “Oh no you don’t,” he growled, and threw his full weight back against the door, slamming it shut again.

Sarah heard a distant noise, but ignored it. She was standing now in front of the silvery gate Frank had described, looking straight at a pair of the most evil-looking dogs she had ever seen. Their eyes glowed red and they growled slightly at her as she approached. Self-consciously clearing her throat, Sarah took one more step closer.

::I came looking for Nightfire,:: she said, disconcerted when her mouth moved but she seemed to speak with her mind.

::The one called Nightfire is within the Gates. We cannot allow you to enter without knowing your Name.::

Sarah hesitated. Did they mean her real name? ::Sarah McClellan,:: she said. ::Please let me in!::

::That is not your real Name,:: the dogs said. ::Tell us your Name.::

Sarah felt tears creeping into her eyes as she shouted at the dogs. ::I need IN! Let me in!::

They growled at her and took a step forward. She retreated nervously.

::I – I – my name is…:: Sarah felt foolish, digging up her old hippy name from her childhood days. ::My name is Sundance.::

The Hounds paused in their advancement, looking at one another. ::Enter, Sundance. Give us no reason to expel you from Spirit.:: They stood to both sides of the gate, and Sundance nervously crept through between them.

The most prominent feature here was a glittering golden-red cord that stretched into the Spirit realm. She felt eyes on her and looked around, afraid, seeing the spirits converge on her bright form. She ran along the path of the cord, seeing how most of them avoided it.

Her eyes on either side of the path, she didn’t see what was right in front of her until she ran right into it, knocking the poltergeist down with a shriek. They tumbled in a heap, and Sundance looked up quickly, spotting Nightfire ahead of them, the source of the cord. ::Night-:: she called.

The poltergeist shrieked again, clapping both of its clammy spirit hands over her mouth. She screamed, kicking at it, and Nightfire spun around.

::What-:: he shouted, running back toward them. He buffeted the poltergeist aside with his flaming wings, causing it to shriek and sizzle. ::You will leave this one’s home. You will never return,:: he said sternly, helping Sundance to her feet.

The poltergeist shrieked, its hands curving into claws, its eyes glowing red. Its whole stance was one of challenge.

::Get out of my house,:: Sundance glared at the spirit, her fists clenched by her sides.

The sight of not one but two Projections united against it made the poltergeist pause. Then, with a final defiant scream and an extremely rude gesture, it vanished.

Nightfire put a protective arm around Sundance’s shoulders, glaring at the spirits who converged on her. They backed off quickly, averting their eyes, and Nightfire led her back to the Gates and beyond.

Sarah and Jonathon toppled forward almost simultaneously, almost knocking over the candle. Jonathon sat up and blew it out, then groaned and stood, scuffing out the circle at the four compass points before smudging the whole thing counter-clockwise.

“So, it’s gone?” Sarah asked, sitting up. She was so tired, and the whole thing seemed like a bad dream.

“Gone,” Jonathon confirmed. “It won’t trouble you again.”

“How much do I owe you two?” Sarah asked, digging out her checkbook from where she had been sitting on it. “Seventy-five, right?”

Jonathon looked over at Frank, who made a face at him. “Make it forty-five. There’s a big discount for saving my life,” he said.

Frank rolled his eyes and Sarah smiled hesitantly before signing the check and handing it to him. Jonathon accepted and staggered over to his partner, who helped him out the door. “Sarah? Make sure you eat something salty and go straight to bed. Projecting couldn’t have been good for you.”

“I will,” Sarah said. “Thank you.”

“Oh, no problem. Anytime,” Jonathon said faintly as Frank helped him stagger out the door.

Once outside, Frank shoved him into the passenger seat of the car, hopping behind the wheel. “You have to stop giving people discounts, Jon. We’re going to get poor.”
© Copyright 2007 Farasha SilverSand (farasha at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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