The Dark Thing: A Tale Of Terror Chapter IV

In the thirty plus years that I have been involved in this bizarre enterprise of chasing the dead there is one fundemental fact that I have learned, nothing about paranormal research is glamorous. Allow me to explain. Over the last decade ghost hunting (god, I hate that term) has become a favorite pasttime for those who wish to catch a glimpse of something that far exceeds the realm of human understanding. Thanks in large part to a few wildly popular television programs, anybody with a few extra bucks to spare can buy a few pieces of equipment and run into an allegedly haunted location in the hopes that they will obtain a photo or an audio recording of someone who has departed our world. In the process there are two things they either forget or do not know, 1: Researching the history of the location should be a key priority before they go running in to a location. Researching the history can give you a proper perspective on why a spirit haunts a building and who that spirit might be. And 2: Chances are you will leave that location with nothing more than a few fuzzy pictures and white noise on a voice recorder oh yeah, and not to mention a sore ass from sitting all night. I guess that’s why I’m lucky to have Jacob Weintraub as an assitant. Jacob understands these facts and when it comes to the equipment that I use he is one hell of a whiz.

By the six o’clock hour Richard and I were done hooking up a few cameras and the wireless mic unit and met in the dining room which would serve us as a command center of sorts.
“Where is Jacob?” Genuinely concerned for my assistant who was usually the first to finish.
“There he is. What the hell is he doing?” Richard said as we looked down at a monitor watching as my student slowly backed out of a room on the second floor. We watched as he looked down at his arm and took off down the hall like a bat out of hell. A few moments later Jacob came flying into the command center out of breath. At first I thought he was in shock until he looked up and began to laugh as a wide toothy grin spread across his face.
“I was…I was.” Jacob was finally able to breathlessly stammer out. “I was in the playroom setting up a thermometer when I heard a voice say, ‘Not there lad, there.’ ” Jacob paused for a moment as he fully regained his composure. “I turned around expecting to see you standing over my shoulder and no one was there, I was completely alone.”
“Nothing more than a heightened sense of awareness in an allegedly haunted house.” Richard said sincerely. Jacob shot my colleague a nasty look that betrayed his true feelings for Richard Webber.
“Here feel this.” Jacob said rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. “Here” Richard was the first to grab his arm and commented that it was noticably colder than the surrounding area. When I touched it the warmth was just beginning to return.
“It touched you?” Richard asked.
“Yeah as I backed out of the room I felt a strong hand grip my arm that’s when I ran.”
“Well,” I said grabbing a camera and tape recorder. “Let’s go have a looksy and see if this entity is still about.”

As we entered the cutely decorated room that was used as a playroom by Maysfield’s children I became intensly aware that we were not alone. I handed the video camera to Jacob and set the tape recorder down on a little wooden play table in the center of the room.
“Is there anybody here who would like to speak to us? We are not here to harm you or force you out we just want to know who you are. If you can answer a few questions can you knock on something.” I paused for a moment and listened and the three of us jumped when a loud knock seemed to come from the wooden play table. I smiled. “Good, good. Now when I ask a question can you give me one knock for yes and two for no.” At my request one soft knock eminated from the play table. I looked over at Richard who was incredulous at what he was hearing and Jacob of course was jumping out of his skin with exitement but he continued to roll.
“Are you the master of the house, Elijah Maysfield?” Two knocks.
“Are you Mrs. Maysfield?” Richard broke in. Two Knocks.
“One of the children?” a series of enthusiastic knocks sounded not just from the table but from the wall behind me.
“Ok, great. I hope you are not scared by our presence.” Two knocks. “Good because we mean you no harm.” At the word harm a cold breeze blew through the room and the door slammed shut. All three of us jumped similtanouesly.
“Are you still there?” I asked and waited for a response when none came after a minute I turned the audio recorder off and stuffed it back in my pocket.
“Well what do you think, doc?” Jacob asked lowering the camera.
“It looks as if Maysfield just may be what we were looking for. Anybody for sandwiches?” I asked as I walked out of the room with the biggest smile on my face I have ever had.

More soon…

Rick E. Hale

t_seeker@hotmail.com