Ghost Theory

Shivering from a nightmare I could not remember, I sat up. Glancing around, I secured my anxiety by counting my china dolls. They had been my sister's before her betrothed had swept her away to Paris two years ago. Our mother had wanted to trade them for the neighbor's old loom, but I had fought bitterly to keep them; the dolls were all I had left of my sister. I knew we would not meet again.

Calmed slightly, I swung my feet out from under my covers and onto the stone floor. It was littered with hay from my mattress and I frowned; Father must have left his dogs into the sleeping quarters again. I did not have time to clean it, so I ignored it, glancing around the oddly empty room. I reached down to my clothes piles at the head of my mattress.

“I know you can hear me!”

I paused as my hand touched my tunic. Something felt...familiar. Not in the way that things you did over and over again did. It felt familiar as if I had lived this very moment again and again and again. Voices filled my mind. Memories of a fire and terror. Of death. The world shattered around me. My home melted away from me and was replaced by a dark hallway. The floor at my feet was smooth and white, the walls much the same. Memories flooded my mind, I clutched at my face and uttered a moan of misery.

“Wait, did you hear that?!”

“I heard it! I heard it!”

“Uh, yeah, I heard it too, I think. A moan, right?”

“I didn't hear anything?”

It was all coming back to me. Two, maybe three centuries of torment after I had died. The day I had died, I watched my father murdered, my mother violated, and my brother forced to run. Our house, all of land, our animals-all destroyed. The only thing that survived were the china dolls, which Sal had taken as a sort of trophy.

I felt sick as all the memories rushed back into my mind. I had been living in my memories for the past three decades, forgetting over and over again. I felt I was about to explode with the terror and rage that overcame me. I screamed and screamed and screamed, but this the humans did not seem to hear.

They only heard what they wanted to hear and few wanted to hear the agony of the dead. Around me I heard other ghosts start to howl, moan, cry or even laugh as they were woken by me. I wanted this to stop. Those humans had to leave. They had to leave now. Fury fueling me on, I charged toward them, a laughing ghost or demon following behind, ready for a show.

~
Paula grinned at the camera man; they were getting some good stuff tonight at the hospital, despite the fact most of them were actually skeptics. They had been filming for their Ghost Finders show for three hours now and already they had things thorn, caught a shadow figure on tape, and now a mysterious moan. Charlie was shivering next to her, clutching his arms around himself, his eyes darting everywhere. Perhaps he was not exactly a skeptic any more.

The camera man, Sid, was starting to look a little concerned as well. Despite this being their fifteenth episode, he had never been much convinced. He had seen Paula setting some things up for several episodes to make things more interesting. He knew most of her stuff was a hoax.

But this...this was good stuff. The St. Keldra's Hospital had been closed down forty years ago and her crew was the first to get to go inside to hunt for ghosts. The owners had been adamant about limiting the number of people allowed in, so the best Paula was able to do was herself, Sid, and Charlie. And of course, the obnoxious son of the owners, Luke-John Keldra. He had been helpful, however, with the room they were currently in. Her normal crew, who normally helped her with the fake ghosts, was still at the hotel, where they were doing their own investigation.

He had mentioned something about an approximately three hundred year old china doll that had been passed down from generation to generation and even brought it out in this room. He said there is a male ghost of a boy that I thought to have died in a farm fire that will become enraged whenever the doll is brought out.

His grandfather put it on display in the hospital for a week, but was begged by nurses and staff to take it down due to the sudden increase in paranormal activity. A few mentally disturbed patients had reported seeing the ghost of the boy as he charged down the halls, wailing. Shortly after taking down the doll, the hospital had been closed down due to afire that had mysteriously burned down a detached building.

“Bring out the doll, see what happens.” Paula urged Kyle, who sat nervously in a corner, wide eyed.

“Do I have to? I really don't want to. I've heard this ghost is violent.” He moaned, almost sounding like a ghost himself.

“It'll be alright, I promise! Charlie used to be a priest, so if the going gets bad, he can protect us.” Paula smiled.

“What if he starts a fire again?”
“How can a ghost start a fire? Be real.” Paula snapped and Sid grunted in agreement.

Nervously, the young man pulled out a plastic display case just as the room seemed to fill with cold air. Kyle placed the box in the middle of the room and swiftly stepped back. Almost immediately the box was sent flying across the room, as if kicked. The old doll within shattered. A faint scream of horror and dismay would be later heard on the microphone of the camera, but the humans heard nothing. They did hear an evil sounding giggle, however, that seemed to echo around them.

“We're here to help you! Are you the boy that died in the fire?!” Paula shouted unnecessarily loud.

They heard no response. What they and even their microphones could not hear was the sobbing of a young teen as he realized he had destroyed the last hint that their family ever existed. They did not hear the laughing ghost throw himself to the floor, cackling.

“There's no helping us! You'll end up like this too, there is no heaven! Only Judgment Day, you idiots! Help us? Ha! Ha ha ha! Help yourselves!”

They heard none of this.

The humans did hear, however, a sound they really would rather not have. All throughout the dark hospital, it sounded as if symbols were crashed together as the forty year old fire alarms system somehow started up. This seemed to scare the four humans far more than any ghost. Screaming and cursing, they ran, leaving behind a crowd of curious ghosts.

The laughing ghost peeked at his companion, hoping to poke fun at him, but he realized the boy's conscious was gone. So he left to bother some other, more fun to torment ghosts. Like the boy who had started the barn fire, all those years ago. It had gotten his brother killed, and the sounds of his brother's torment always set him off on an arson rampage. It was always fun to mess with that one.
A little girl clutching a teddy bear stepped into the room and stood by the sobbing spirit.

“My mommy can fix that when she gets here. She always fixeded my babies. See?” She cooed, and shoved her bear into John's lap.

John glanced at her for a moment, and then down and the bear. It was nothing more than an idea formed by the strong need of the ghost child for her lifeless companion. Even so, John took it into his arms and hugged it tight. The little girl crouched next to him and patted at his back.

“You'll be okay. I'm sure the stars will come down for us one day.” She murmured.

The two of them would stay like that for days; time does not matter to a ghost, especially once their minds have broken.