Vessel

Aaron’s apartment was dark. He had a tendency to leave his blinds down, much like Zak, but even though Zak preferred living in badly lit environment, today was not one of those days. Sidestepping a heap of dirty laundry on the floor, he made his way toward the closest window and was just about to open the blinds when Aaron suddenly spoke up.

“Hey, dude!” The bald man chirped while leaning back in his office chair to greet Zak. “How did therapy go?”

Deciding to leave the blinds half-open, Zak then took a seat next to his friend and shrugged slightly, “It went fine. What did you find?”

One dark eyebrow rose on Aaron’s forehead as he eyed the newcomer. “Just fine?”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Zak leaned back in the chair and glared at the computer screen. “Yeah,”

“Dude, talk to me. You look like shit,” The bearded of the two insisted. “Can he help you or what?”

Not bothering to respond, Zak continued glaring at the computer screen.

“You’re scaring me, bro,” Aaron quivered and laughed nervously as he reached forward to grab the computer-mouse. “Anyway, check this out,” he continued as he opened one of the files on his desktop. “I was going through the evidence from last week’s lock-down and I came across this. It was captured on your camera when you went alone down to the basement.” He continued. “I’ve tried debunking it by matching the tapes from the same spot filmed by the x-cam, but it doesn’t add up. You’ll see why in a bit.” He pressed play and leaned back in his chair, giving Zak room to navigate through the file as he pleased.

Leaning closer toward the screen, Zak watched the recorded video intensely. At first, the only thing captured was his voice and half his face as he asked his standard questions, but soon enough he had turned the camera around and was walking further into the abandoned basement.

“Look closely at the upper right corner,” Aaron explained and pointed to the spot he wanted Zak to pay attention to.

At first he saw nothing and decided to replay the file again. The second time, a small light-gray mist like figure barely showed as it swept across the upper corner of the video; going quickly into frame and then returning the way it came.

“Damn. How did you even notice that?” Zak asked. “It barely shows at all,” He played the sequence again and again, changed the settings a bit and zoomed in on the object. “It’s almost as if it’s out of frame, like we only captured half of it.”

Aaron shooed Zak’s hand away and opened another file, this one showing the film from the x-camera, which was filming in the same direction but from a different angle.

“The weird thing is that the x-cam didn’t capture anything at all.” Aaron fast-forwarded the clip to match the footage of Zak’s camera. Playing both files simultaneously, both men found themselves staring intensely at the screen.

“That is weird.” Zak mumbled. “I believe we have seen enough footage to be able to debunk it as neither dust nor a bug, and orbs are usually more round, so what is that?” He questioned.

A loud buzz broke their concentration. Aaron rolled his chair a few feet to his left and went to retrieve his phone which lay upon a couple of books on the desk. “What’s up Nick?” He greeted as his ear pressed against the phone. Standing from his previously comfortable position, he left the room and entered the kitchen.
While Aaron spoke to the third member of their crew, Zak went back to the computer in hopes of figuring out what exactly had gotten caught on camera. So called shadow-people were one of his theories, but they hadn’t been able to catch any of those on film before, and while he knew spirits needed a lot of energy in order to materialize, none of his electrical equipment had malfunctioned during the event.

He leaned his elbows onto the wooden desk and placed his chin in his right hand. His fingers slid over his left cheek as his mind raced to get answers. Aaron re-entered the room a couple of minutes later with his phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“Nick found a new location. We’re heading there in a week.”

“I have therapy on Tuesday,” Zak blurted out.

Aaron stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his friend. He blinked, smirked and placed a hand on his hip. “Oh hell no!” he exclaimed. “So you think you can just get out of this for what? Therapy? You, young man, are grounded, ooh-kaay?!” He joked. His head bobbing both left and right as he ended his outburst with a pout on his lips.

A delicate eyebrow rose on Zak’s forehead as he eyed his friend and colleague. Aaron was a weird dude. “…and here I am, thinking I’m the one going crazy,” Zak mumbled and sunk further into his seat.

________
Nick joined the two investigators a little while later with a couple of books, folders containing clippings from newspapers and with three cups of coffee. His ash-blond hair was combed back, eyes looking perky and a smile adorned his lips as he entered Aaron’s apartment. Setting the items onto Aaron’s white dining table, he called his friends over to come and help with the research. The smile playing on his lips gradually faded as he laid his eyes on Zak.

“Holy… What happened to you?” He questioned slightly taken aback by his friend’s unusual appearance.
Zak’s characteristic fauxhawk was non existent. Instead his black hair laid unusually flat against his skull with occasional strands of hair pointing every other direction, giving him the looks of a madman. His otherwise clear-blue eyes were leaning more toward a dull gray shade with dark under-eye circles above the apples of his cheeks. His posture was nowhere near his usual confident attitude, instead his arms hung loosely down the sides of his frame with one hand tucked slightly into the pocket of his pants. He leaned against the doorway between Aaron’s workspace and living-room and looked… dead.
Aaron eyed the third man from behind Zak and gestured for him to shut up. Nick got the hint and smiled sheepishly while scratching the back of his head.

Aaron clapped Zak on the shoulder before taking a seat in his black leather couch. “Ooh, coffee!” He exclaimed excitedly and reached for the cup with his name written on the side of the white paper-cup. Peeling the lid off, he took a small sip of the black liquid, enjoying every molecule of the rich fluid with a deep moan of contentment.

Nick knelt down on the floor, grabbed one of the two remaining cups and held it out in Zak’s direction. “Coffee?” He offered his long-time friend as an act of peace for his earlier outburst.

Zak left his spot against the door-frame and grasped the cup. Leaning down towards the table, he then took one of the folders containing newspaper clippings and took a seat next to Aaron on the couch.

“Let’s get to work, dudes,”
________

Nick had been well prepared with the reports, notes, files and newspaper-clippings concerning their new location. They were heading to an old hotel in Jefferson County, Missouri. The hotel was originally built as a farm house back in 1816 but started going through reconstruction sometime after 1856 when John M. Morse bought the building. The hotel had it’s prime-time during the mid 1920’s and the 1930’s with guests such as Charlie Chaplin, Al Capone, and Clara Bow - the woman whom served as an inspiration-source for the character Betty Boop. To top it all, the first national female serial-killer had both lived and worked in the building. Serving as a cook, she poisoned many people with her exceptional skills. A favorite of hers was giving arsenic chocolates to kids. After her death, her body had been buried nearby.

The location had gone through many phases during it’s decades of being used. Going from a private house to a brothel, confederate hospital, post office, underground railroad, to a hotel and it had the privilege of carrying the history of multiple murder scenes stretching over the timespan of decades. Reports spoke of multiple cases of people seeing shadow-figures, getting touched, pushed and even felt up I a sexual way. Nick, Aaron and Zak were bound to find evidence to confirm the stories. This place promised everything and even had a few evp’s to back up some of the stories.

“So, what do you guys think?” Nick asked after finishing another one of the police-reports he’d gotten his hands on. He placed the folder on top of the pile of files he’d already gone through and went to fetch another one.

“Dude, this place sounds wicked!” Aaron exclaimed. “We have celebrities, murders, evp’s, shadow-figures… This place is off the hook!” He beamed.

“Yeah, I just hope it’s not just a scam to lure people over. Don’t you find it fishy that they seem to have everything?” Nick asked, emphasizing ‘everything’.

Zak looked up from his folder of newspaper-articles and eyed his two friends. He’d been reading up on the serial killer and had -up until now counted 35 murders taking place at the location. Almost half of those were children. “I’d like to try and make contact with Bertha Gifford.” He stated and lowered his folder. “I want to know why anyone could even think of murdering children. Are they still there? Is she still tormenting them? I have a feeling we’ll be dealing with something darker than a spirit. This sounds demonic to me.”

“Yeah, bro, I hear ya,” Aaron nodded.

“Whatever is there, we’ll get to the bottom with it,” Zak added.

“Indeed,” The two others agreed.

________

Tuesday came quickly and Zak found himself in the same obnoxious waiting room as a week prior. This time he was accompanied by an older male and a teenage girl waiting to get called in much like himself. The same clock ticked tauntingly at it’s spot on the wall, but this time Zak was prepared and sat quietly in his seat with his ear-buds in. The cord went from his ears and into his phone where he listened to some music and he drummed his thumbs against the sides of his phone in perfect synchronization with the beat of his choice of tune. He glanced over at the elder man sitting hunched over a women’s magazine and studied him for a while. He looked to be around his early 60’s with white hair crowning the sides of his head in a c-shape, leaving the top of it bare of any hair. His eyes were heavily sunken in, framed by bushy eyebrows and deep lines of wrinkles. His nose was big and protruded out in a hawk-like shape over thin lips set in a brooding snarl. His skin had a gray-tint to it which made him look older than he probably was and the beige/gray trench-coat he wore did nothing to bring out any sort of personality.

Turning his attention to the teenager, he caught her checking him out. A blush spread across her cheeks as she quickly looked down onto her hands which fidgeted in her lap. Resisting the urge to sigh, he gave her a quick once-over. Pitch-black hair sprung from the top of her head in a layered hairstyle, framing her heart-shaped face and ending right above her shoulders. Her eyes were heavily lined with black, her nose was pierced and her bottom lip was adorned with what he recalled went by the name ‘snakebites’. Much like himself she wore all black and a t-shirt that read ‘I’m only wearing black until they invent something darker’. The corner of his lips twitched slightly as he scorned. Looking at her person made him remember his days as a teenager. Bullied, tormented and constantly picked on by his classmates, growing up was not easy. Her head rose slowly and she peeked at him through her thick eyelashes. He forced a quick smile and went back to his phone. He was in no mood to strike up a conversation.

A couple of minutes passed before a light tap on his shoulder brought him out of his zone. Turning his head to his right he was met with the view of two delicate mounds threatening to break out of a white tank top with a ridiculously low neck. He quickly diverted his gaze upward and pulled the buds from his ears.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Oh, hi! I’m Lisa,” The woman began cheerfully and stretched her right hand out to greet him.

Cocking an eyebrow, Zak reached his hand out to shake hers. “Uh…”

“Dr. Watson is ready to see you now, and perhaps if you’re free then maybe I get to see more of you later,” The woman winked and discreetly pushed over a piece of paper through their connected hands.

Staring dumbfounded at the woman in front of him, Zak felt his throat dry up. “Uh…”

“Um, Lisa…” Another woman carefully entered the waiting room and Zak recognized her as the shy nurse he met the week before. “I’m here to escort Mr. Bagans to Dr. Watson’s office,” she added in with her wobbly voice and her eyes shot to the floor in embarrassment.

Zak rose from his seat and pocketed his phone along with the piece of paper he’d recently received. He faked a smile as he brushed past Lisa and silently left the waiting room. The shy nurse fell into step beside him and offered him a shy smile when he nodded his head in greeting when she finally found the nerve to acknowledge him.

“Thanks,” He smiled once they were outside Dr. Watson’s office.

The nurse’s cheeks burned crimson as she knocked on the door and the second the psychiatrist opened the door she silently shuffled away, leaving Zak and his therapist to their business.

“Ah, Mr. Bagans,” The occupant of the room greeted. “Please come in,” she added as she flipped the switch signaling she was busy before she closed the door behind them, completely missing the dark shadow that managed to sneak into her room before the door closed.

Zak sat down in the same seat as last week and folded his hands in his lap. He curiously eyed his psychiatrist whom was dressed in a white button up shirt and a black waist-high pencil skirt. Her hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders, softly draping down over the upper part of her back. Her eyes were lightly framed by a thin line of black eyeliner and some mascara, quite the contrast compared to the black-clothed teenager in the waiting room. He leaned to his left and set his elbow on the armrest. Laying his chin in the palm of his hand, he silently watched the woman in front of him scurry from the door and to her desk before ending up in front of him where she silently took a seat in the chair across the small squared table in between them.

“So,” she started. “How are you feeling today?” Picking up a notebook from the small table in between them, she flipped through the first couple of pages until she found an unwritten one and quickly scribbled his name and today’s date on the top line.

Zak shrugged his shoulders. “Fine, I guess,” He had actually taken the time to trim the short beard on his chin, The thin mustache over his upper lip was groomed and he had even made an effort to shape his hair into his characteristic fauxhawk.

“You look fine,” She stated and nodded in agreement.

He shrugged and broke eye-contact for a second.

“Last week we spoke about life and death,” She started. “You said some very interesting things about life after death and your mission in this world, if you don’t mind me phrasing it that way?” Her hazel colored eyes watched him intensely, observing him and his reaction to her question. “What lead you onto your current path of life?”

“Uh…” He scratched the side of his head. “I had an encounter with a female spirit in my old apartment in Trenton, Michigan. I kept waking up at the same time night after night until I saw her standing there right in front of me by the foot of my bed. She apparently committed suicide in the next door building and somehow ended up with me in my apartment.”

She scribbled something down onto the open page in her lap. “That’s interesting. How did you find out about her?”

“I did some research, asked my landlord, spoke to the neighbors… you know, that sort of thing,” he stated wryly and straightened in his seat.

“Are you currently in a relationship?” She suddenly asked.

Zak’s eyes shot to hers and he eyed her curiously. “No,” She nodded discreetly and wrote the word ‘single’ on the paper. “Why?” he questioned.

Her eyes met his again. Hazel staring into blue. His question hung heavily in the room, waiting to get answered.

“When were you last in a relationship?” She countered his question with another one of her own.

“They don’t approve of me being in a relationship,” he grumbled.

Here eyes widened a fraction at that. “They?” She questioned.

Sighing deeply, he shifted yet again in his seat. “My relationships don’t last because they scare them off,”

“Who does?” She asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“…”

“Whenever I bring someone home they scare them off. I guess they’re being protective.”

“Protective of you?” She questioned.

His eyes shot to hers and he licked his lips. “I guess you could say that.”

“Why?”

Shaking his head slightly, Zak’s eyes locked with the female’s in front of him “Because I’m their only hope if they want to get their story heard.”

Leaning closer toward the paranormal investigator, Dr. Watson asked: “What is their story?”

“Do you really want to know?” Zak questioned and copied the woman’s actions by leaning in closer as well.

“Yes,” She stated and lowered her gaze a fraction.

His eyes shot to her lips for a millisecond before a genuine smile spread across his lips and he gazed yet again into the beautiful mixture of brown and green in her eyes. “I-”

Two hard knocks against the door interrupted the intense conversation between the couple. “Excuse me, Avelina, we have a situation,” a man in his mid 40’s stated as he flung the door open, causing Zak to quickly lean back against the backrest of his chair.

The sound of a woman screaming traveled through the corridor outside of the room, making Avelina quickly stand from her seat. “Virginia?”

The man nodded once and stepped aside to make room for Dr. Watson.

“Zak, this is an emergency, could you please wait here?” Avelina questioned as she hurried toward the door.

“Uh…” Zak started but was cut off by another heartbreaking scream resounding throughout the corridor.

Dr. Watson quickly left the room, leaving the door ajar behind her. Zak sighed quietly and pinched the bridge of his nose. Today’s session was so far out of his comfort zone that the thought of leaving was getting more and more tempting by the minute.

A sudden flicker of the lights brought him back from his musings. He recognized this from home. The lights flickered again and the hairs on his arms suddenly stood on peek. This only meant one thing.

He wasn’t alone.