Ghosts or not?

I don’t believe in ghosts. Not like Casper on cartoons or the kind that rattle things and have a misty body. Greg and I have had this discussion. I laugh at the ghost hunting shows on TV, I have my own theory about spirits and I want no personal contact with them. However, the run around that ghost hunters get from spirits is a game I think is funny. They think they really are contacting the ghosts of people who have died. To me it's laughable.

When my friends invited me to go on a trip with them to a bed and breakfast at the coast, I agreed to go out of boredom .

We arrived at a newly restored Queen Anne home for the weekend. After being checked in we found our rooms and were given a tour of the residence. As a craftsmen, myself, I admired the workmanship of the restoration and the attention to detail.

In my room, I set my bag on a bench and inspected the wood detail around the room. I knocked on a panel to see if it was solid and heard a knock back. I thought it was a neighbor and answered, “Sorry.”

When I turned around, my bag now resided on the floor next to the door. Odd, I thought, but I brushed it aside thinking I'd left it there. I unpacked my few things for the weekend, set my Bible on the nightstand, and went to meet my friends downstairs.

“How's your room?” seemed to be the topic of conversation, as we headed to a welcoming party. After politely devouring the snacks, we began to plan the activity for the following day. As the evening wore on, I began to feel a little uncomfortable. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was antsy about something. The owner of the establishment called for all our attention.

“I welcome you all and I'm am glad to have you with us. As you are aware, this building is haunted.” There was a few titters and whispers among the group, but I was appalled. I would not knowingly go to a haunted house. As I said before I don’t believe in the classic ghost, however I believe in a much sinister spirit in the world and I wanted nothing to do with it.

“Did you know about this?” I whispered to Greg.

“Of course Scott, that is why we're here. You told us how you feel about spirits; we just wanted to see if you were right. If there are no such things as ghosts you shouldn’t have to worry.” Chad and the others grinned at me.

I managed a weak grimace. What in the world had I gotten in to? This was not a joke to me. It was serious. I don’t mess with the spirit world. I believe there are two entities; one fighting for good, the other for the dark side. I trust the army of God’s angels to watch over me in situations I cannot control and I was certainly in one of them now.

“Are you scared?” Tom teased while the others laughed along with him.

“Yes.” I answered. They laughed thinking I was joking.

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts. This place shouldn’t be scary to you. We on the other hand want them to come out and play.”

“You miss understood me. I believe in the spirit world and I want them to leave me alone.” I stood and saluted the guys, “I am heading for bed. I'll see you tomorrow morning if you all make it though the night.”

I heard some comments about ghost hunting, but I left the room. At the top of the stairs I paused, in my peripheral vision I thought something moved away from me, but when I looked around the hall, I saw nothing.

In my room, my bag was again sitting by the door, all my clothes inside and my Bible on top. I shivered, chills ran through my body. Part of me wanted to believe the guys had hired one of the staff to do this while we were down stairs, the other half afraid of what it might mean.

I took the Bible and went to the bed. Leaving the bathroom light on and the door partially closed, I laid on top of the covers and used a light blanket laying at the end of the bed as my cover. I prayed for protection. Just as I drifted off to sleep I was awakened by a knocking on the wall behind my headboard. I froze. The knocking was insistent. As if someone wanted in. The knocking continued to move along the wall to the outer corner then to the windows. The dim light from the bathroom didn’t illuminate the windows and I didn’t want to know what was out there. The knocking continued until there were no more windows. When it reached the opposite wall the knocking became louder and closer, as if whomever made the knocking sound stood in the room. I called on God for protection. The knocking stopped; I breathed a sigh of relief, but jumped when it started again on door to the hall.

“SCOTT! SCOTT! Open the door!” it sounded like Chad, but I do believe spirits mimic the living if they can get you to do what they want. I picked up the phone and punched in the room number of my friend. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer. Blood pounded in my veins. My head felt as if I were in a compression chamber. I punched the other room numbers of the guys on my list. One by one there was no answer. The knocking continued.

“Go Away! I don’t want to play games with you.” Then I remembered someone told me not to talk to spirits. So I pressed my lips together. “You are not invited into my room,” I whispered, just to be on the safe side.

My hands trembled as I picked up the receiver and punched in the numbers for the front desk. The phone rang and rang, just as I was about to hang up a sleepy voice asked what did I want.

“Is there a group of men downstairs?” I was afraid she might think I was a nut case.

She came back to the phone and I could tell she was trying to be polite, “No, everyone is asleep in bed.”

“No they are not. I called their rooms and they are not answering and someone is knocking on the walls and door of my room.”

There was a long pause and the voice was more pleasant, “So you have a ghost bothering you?” it was almost as if she was pleased at the prospect.

“I don’t know. It might be my friends trying to play a trick. Someone is knocking on the door; can you hear it?” I held the phone toward the door, then back to my ear.

“Sir, I have a security camera for each hallway and there is no one outside your door.”

“But you did hear the knocking.”

Another long pause, “Yes, I heard a knocking. It could be you doing so to cause trouble.” Her voice became matter of fact.

“This has happened before I take it.” The knocking faded and became less insistent. The handle on the door began to jiggle. “There is still no one in the hallway?”

“No.”

“Ok.” I didn’t even say goodbye, I just dropped the phone on its cradle, slid my legs under the covers and pulled the extra pillow over my head. I placed the Bible on my chest. I didn’t hear the knocking as loud. I made up my mind that in the morning I was leaving, even if I had to walk back to the city.



Sunlight reflected off the ocean into my room, casting waves of light on the ceiling and walls. It was a comfort to see the morning light. After a shower, with one hand holding the curtain open, so I could see anyone that might come in the bathroom.

Back in the room my bag was again packed and my Bible sitting on top. I had not placed it there. I was even more determined to leave this place. I dressed in a hurry.

Cautiously, I opened my door and peeked out to an empty hallway. Bag in hand I walked with quick hurried steps to the stairs.The sound of a turning doorknob and squeak of a hinge, caused me to turn back. The door to the room next to mine moved open. As it swung wider I saw streaks of blood on the walls beside the door frame. I froze, when the door stopped moving once again, I turned to the stairway.

"Help." A voice, the gender not discernible, called out.

I couldn't go there. My hands began to shake and I gripped the handrail tighter with sweaty palms. In the face of the possibility that someone needed my help, I took a deep breath and moved toward the door to look inside. Lying on the floor in the middle of the room were three familiar figures, my so-called-friends. I stared in disbelief, my feet felt glued to the floor. Was this a set up? a joke?

The carnage was horrific, I recognized the shredded clothing and what was left of their faces. I backed out of the room and ran down the three flights of stairs my bag slapping against my thigh. At the front desk, I slid on the polished floor dropping my bag to the floor.

I pounded on the bell until a woman came to the desk. “The room next to mine-my-friend’s-are-dead.” I could barely talk from the nausea that threatened to overtake me. I turned away and gagged, taking deep breaths to fight the reaction.

“Really Sir, we don’t need to over react. Your friends are just having some fun with you.” She started to walk away.

“Please, go with me just to ease my mind. If it’s a joke I will laugh with the guys.”

She glared at me then lifted the counter top on its hinge to join me. I led the way up the second floor. At my floor, I pointed to the room, the door was still open. I didn’t want to look. The vision of what I saw remained ingrained in my mind.

I watched as she stood in front of the open door. Blood drained from her face. I could tell she wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Then she covered her mouth with her hand and headed down the stairs screaming for help. I didn’t follow her. I was numb.

It was true. It was no dream. No set up by my prankster friends. Loud thumping on the stairs announced I was to have company. I saw Tom and Chad taking them two at a time until they saw me and stopped.

‘What happened?” Chad started to pass me, but I held out my hand to stop him. “You don’t want to see. Stay here. Let’s wait for the police.”

Tom didn’t stop; he hurried to the doorway. “Oh God! Tim, Bob, Steve!” He turned to look at me. Chad looked at the both of us and took small steps then tipped his head from the middle of the hall to see. He turned, his face drained of color.

“What happened?” he asked as he slid to the floor next to me and cupped his hand hard over his mouth.

"I have no idea. I left my room and the door opened. I looked inside and that is what I saw.” I held my hands out to him. They were still shaking.

“What were they doing up here?” I looked at Tom for answers.

They hung their heads. Chad spoke, “We wanted to tease you. The guys were going to knock on the walls and get you going. Then see how long it would take to have you running down to our rooms.” When you didn’t come running to any of our rooms, We figured the guys whimped out and couldn’t go through with it. Tom and I went to bed. We were in the dining room waiting for them to come down this morning, when we heard you come down stairs and shout at the desk clerk.”

There was a moan from the room and all three of us froze. Then came the sound of something scratching. We stared at the half opened door. A bloody hand, detached from its body, grabbed at the carpet as if pulling something heavy. A second hand with a bloody stump reached out from the room, fingers grasping for the hallway runner. Blood and meat dripped where it passed over the carpet. All that remained must have been an elbow on one hand and a forearm on the other. The arms, ripped with exposed bone, reached the runner and paused as if deciding where to go next. The fingers walked like some old horror flick, but this was no movie. The pair of hands turned toward the three of us. Together they began to finger walk to us.

I didn’t wait for the others, I was on my way down the stairs. I didn’t care if the others were following or not. I ran out of the house and headed to the main road. I didn't wait to see if it was a ghost or playacting. There are some things you just don't mess with.