100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 30 Nights Left! "Thief"

The security guard at the old hotel between Kuhio Avenue and the Ala Wai started his second sweep of the property at three in the morning. The security elevator would only activate with a special key that he kept on a separate key ring in his wallet. He pressed the button to the top floor, number thirty. From there he’d have to work his way down each floor until he got back to the lobby; from floor to floor it was quiet and uneventful. After, the elevator let him out to the lobby an hour or so later, he reached in to his pocket to retrieve the special key from his wallet, but there was already another hand in there. The security guard screamed and fumbled for a small knife in his other pocket but there was already another hand in there too. Reaching in to his breast pocket for his whistle proved to be even more frustrating because there also was another hand. The thing that sent him completely over the edge was when he felt the warm breath on his ear and heard a disembodied voice say,

“Thief,”

…

The next day the security guard called the main office and asked his supervisor to meet him at the front desk of the hotel. He also asked that the general manager be present. The guard arrived with a large box and two suitcases and confessed to stealing items from the lost and found and from the rooms when guests were either sleeping or away on tours during the day.

“Seems that the ghosts here didn’t like the idea of me stealing from the guests,” the security guard confessed.

“It’s not just any kind of ghost,” the general manager began. “The staff here runs on an honor system; the old security guard before you, he did too. You’re the one who filled his position after he died and the one thing he couldn’t stomach was a thief stealing from the guests of this hotel. Whenever he would bust somebody, the first thing he’d do was rifle through their pockets, and whisper the word, “Thief” in their ear,”

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 31 Nights Left! "Dorming, Mourning,"

I’m a first year student dorming at the University Of Hawaii. I fell asleep one night, and then at three or four in the morning I woke up suddenly because the room was freezing cold and I had to pee really bad. After coming out of the bathroom, I noticed that I couldn’t hear any of the noise from outside. No passing cars from the freeway, no sound of the breeze rustling the branches outside, no late night, early morning conversations from the rooms on either side of mine. It was just a very eerie silence. Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stood up because I could feel that I wasn’t alone in my dorm room. That’s when I heard the sobbing and saw some kid sitting in my chair with his face buried in his hands.

“What the hell are you doing in my room?” I was a lot more pissed off now than scared.

He looked up at me I could see that he was very distraught.

“I lost my scholarship,” he cried.

“What?” I asked.

He reached beneath his chair and removed an open gallon of Clorox and tanked it down. Even before I could scream at him to stop, he dropped the gallon on the floor and raced to the window where he tore off the screen and hurled himself outside, it was ten floors down. I looked out the window, expecting to see this kids body broken and twisted on the pavement below, but there was nothing there. That’s when I heard it from behind me again, the sobbing.

“I lost my scholarship,”

…

I don’t recall if I screamed or cried before I grabbed my keys and wallet and took off, but I do remember running down ten flights of stairs. After that, I was on the freeway heading home. I moved back home the next day and forced my parents to go back to my dorm room and get the rest of my stuff. The drive from ‘Ewa everyday is long and traffic is a bitch, but it’s better than living in a haunted dorm room. And if you’re wondering, then let me save you the trouble. I don’t care about who the ghost of that kid was and I’m not going to lift a finger to find out.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 32 Nights Left! "Justin, just didn't listen"

“...They told me don't go walking slow
The devil's on the loose...”


It’s one thing when tourists are disrespectful to our culture, it’s another thing when locals are out right and purposeful in being disrespectful. A group of anthropology students from UH had stumbled upon a heiau in Maunawili a few months ago, the area had been marked as off limits. Justin Pacheco heard about the find and brought a large group of his friends to the ancient Hawaiian temple to prove a point. First he stood outside the walls of the structure and began to ape a made up chant that was complete gibberish. Second, he trampled into the structure and began to dance a very bad hula. Third, he pulled his pants down and urinated while moving in a slow circle. It wasn’t until he was done that he noticed his friends were gone and that everything was quiet. The feeling was eerie and Justin was covered with chicken skin; in the next instant, he was inundated with the smell of a wet dog but twenty times worse. It made him gag at first and then he threw up his breakfast.

At that point, the sun was directly behind him and he could see his own shadow on the dirt floor of the heiau, suddenly a nine-foot shadow appeared next to his. He only managed to get a glimpse of the massive Hawaiian man who wore a black feathered cape and towered above Justin, his eyes red with rage.

Justin’s feet couldn’t carry him fast enough, he ran straight toward the wall of the heiau and took a giant leap over it. He went crashing through the bush, literally running for his life. Behind him was the thundering sound of the forest coming apart; great trees were being felled with one mighty push from the Hawaiian giant who was in close pursuit. The jungle was so thick that the sun could not penetrate the canopy of trees, time was fractured and Justin couldn’t tell if it was night or day, all he could do was run. Before he knew it, he’d come upon the Maunawili overlook just at the bottom of the Pali lookout. He wasn’t sure how he got there, but behind him, he could see rows of trees falling. The Hawaiian giant was still coming after him and there was no time to waste. Justin took the old path up the Pali road and willed himself to run further even though his legs were burning. Eventually, the foliage fell away and he could see the winding path to the lookout, there was hope after all. Just as he rounded the last turn, he saw the remnants of an old landslide that barred a part of the path from the lookout. He ran faster and put his last ounce of strength into the leap that would carry him to the top of the dirt mound. He made it, he was home free.

However, Justin made the mistake of looking back. When he did, he saw the massive Hawaiian man standing there in his black feathered cloak, except that the feathers were now standing on end. Turns out that it wasn’t a feathered cloak at all, it was hackles that one would find on the back of a pig. By the time Justin Pacheco realized that what stood before him was Kamapua’a, and that the temple he defiled probably belonged to the pig god, the Akua had already thrown a hefty sized stone at Justin with such velocity that it took Justin’s head clean off.

The tourists and hikers who witnessed the incident were either paralyzed with fear or ran screaming for their life.

Kamapua’a on the other hand the pig god had his prize and disappeared with it into the Wao nahele.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 33 Nights Left! "Sexy Mind"

(Warning: Mature content )

Work ended late, it was overtime of course and that was good for us. Driving a tour bus in Honolulu isn’t glamorous but we needed the money. My interview with OTS was on Monday and so I had my fingers crossed. It was a little after midnight when I walked into my bedroom and got ready to shower. I left the lights off because I didn’t want to wake my wife. Tossing my clothes in the hamper and grabbing a clean towel from my drawer, I was headed to the bathroom when I felt my wife’s hand grab my manhood. It startled me for a second but her mischievous laugh put me at ease. She took me in her mouth and worked her magic; I could feel the warmth of her tongue working the bottom and top of me back and forth. I gasped and cautioned her to go slow but she took a moment to breathe and assured me that I shouldn’t be worried,

“There’s more where this came from,”

My knees went weak and I could hardly hold myself up as she doubled her efforts; I was going to explode at any moment and I couldn’t hold it back. All it took was a flick of her tongue on the underside of the tip and I was done, it felt like my entire soul was leaving my body. I lost my balance and reached out for the top of my dresser drawer in order to right myself but I was too far away, all I could do was hold on to my wife’s shoulders. When she was done I had no strength left and I felt like I was going to crumble to the carpet and end up in a shaking breathless heap, but she wouldn’t let me. Her two hands held me upright by my buttocks and she started again. It felt like I was going to die but she worked her magic once more and I was fully aroused, except this time, she wouldn’t let me finish. Instead, she walked out of the room and took a left turn down the hallway. I didn’t see the kitchen light go on, nor did the blue glow from the television screen n the living room. I finally managed to get myself up off the floor and was a bit clumsy while trying to trace her path down the hallway. The ambient light from the street lamps lit our living room well enough that I could see her sitting on our couch naked.

“Here’s more,” she said.

…

Our lovemaking was an intense marathon and I did my best to hold off as much as I could, but by the time that I’d finally reached the end, I was dizzy with exhaustion. I got up from the couch and held my wife’s hand as we walked back to our bedroom.

“Really?” She smiled.

“Really,” I confirmed.

At that moment, I recall raising her hand to my lips and kissing it gently; then I spun her around and took her right where we stood. She let out a surprised moan and wrapped her hand around the back of my neck. We were connected, we moved as one and declared over and over again that the love we felt was eternal. We expressed it with deep sincerity and affection; she tensed up suddenly and couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her body shuddered and then she cried out, “Please babes, please!”

 She was done but it wasn’t over yet.

I lay her on the carpet and kissed her softly while she simultaneously lifted her hips to meet mine. A few minutes later, the storm began to rise from the bottom of my stomach and a sudden jolt of electricity caused every muscle in my body to tense up all at once. She felt it because she grabbed my shoulders and pressed her heels against the back of my thighs. We moaned in unison as everything physical and spiritual released itself from our bodies, leaving the two of us in an undulating mess of passion.

…

When I awoke the following morning I was fast asleep on the carpet, still naked, my body weak and sore from the after-effects of the previous night. Usually, it was the alarm that woke me but this morning, I got up before it could sound. My wife was already awake by the time I’d gotten dressed, and I crawled across the bed and kissed her on the forehead and greeted her with an appreciative good morning. I slid my arms under her knees and back and carried her from the bed and placed her in her wheelchair. Her fingers couldn’t close all the way but she had enough range of motion and movement in her hands that she could work the controls. Maneuvering herself out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, she positioned herself in front of the sink, where I helped to brush her teeth and rinse out with mouthwash. She caught me looking at her, while I brushed out her hair.

“What?” She was blushing.

“I don’t know how you do it, being bound to this wheelchair and everything, but it’s worth the wait once a month,” I smiled. “It keeps me honest.”

“ The power of the mind can be a wicked thing,” she winked.

"It certainly was last night," I agreed.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 34 Nights Left! "Pop Bubble Wrap, Pop!"

(Office Dillingham Boulevard)

I wouldn’t have a problem with getting my work done in this cubicle were it not for the problematic popping sound of bubble wrap. The snapping pop went off every five seconds; it didn’t bother me at first and I payed it no mind. Except that now, the maddening cadence is taking it’s time. It knows that I have anticipated the noise which is why it pops two or three at once and then nothing for a few seconds and then one pop after. I know very well that I am the only person in my office and that the several sheets of bubble wrap lay on my work mates desk behind me. He called in sick for the day. I force myself not to acknowledge the activity because if I do, If l let myself believe that this is real, then whatever it is that is trying to scare me will win, and it will either possess my body or kill me.

My report is finished which is a good thing, the bad thing is that I have to print it up. The printer is on the desk behind me, where the bubble wrap is. I am too afraid at this point to get up from my chair; instead I turn my computer screen off and in it’s reflection I try to determine the distance of the printer in relation to where I’m sitting. It’s not that far, I turn the screen back on and click the print icon. The machine starts up and I hear it spit out the papers I need, I take in a deep breath and push my chair backwards toward the printer, I reach my left hand out and I grab the sheet as quickly as possible.

Success!

It did it without having to turn around once! I push my chair forward to my safe haven and hold up my prized report to gaze at it like a trophy; instead my blood runs cold and I am mortified. It isn’t my report in my hands. It’s a sheet of bubble wrap.

From behind me it starts again, pop, pop, pop. There’s a pause afterwards and then I hear it,

“Heh, heh, heh”

It wasn't until I ran into the parking lot that I realized the high pitch noise that I'd heard was me. I couldn't t stop screaming.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 35 Nights Left! "Listen To Mom,"

When I was young and I thought that I didn’t need to be told anything because I already knew the answers; I made one mistake. I did not heed my mother’s warning. I was 15 and I was invited to a party at a classmates house. The party itself was wild and I ended up meeting a girl that I thought was going to be my girlfriend come Monday morning at school. It didn’t turn out that way, but believe me by the time school had rolled around, a girlfriend was the last thing on my mind. It was what happened after the party that is the focus of my story.

The party ended a little after one in the morning and everyone went their separate ways. I myself was left to walk back home all alone on Waipahu depot road. Taking the left turn on Aniani street I could see that the lights were off in my house and so I took my time to get there. That’s when I heard someone walking behind me, I turned to see a dark looming shadow that seemed to be changing forms from thin, to thick, to circular and then massive. All the while, there were two glowing red eyes in the middle of the dark shadow. Mind you, this all transpired within a matter of seconds. What made matters worse is that it ( the shadow ) called me by my name. I don’t remember if I screamed or not but I do remember running. It was only then that I suddenly recalled my mother’s advice, that if I were ever walking home late at night and I’d heard an unfamiliar voice call my name, I was to spit on the ground, swear a few bad words and run for my life. I knew I was in big trouble right then because I ran first without spitting or swearing.

Before I knew it I cleared the steps to my front door and I was in my house, safe and sound.

Wrong.

It followed me into my home! I remember screaming that time. My father burst out of his bedroom and came running into the living room yelling, “Honey stop!”

He was screaming at my mother but she wasn’t there; it was only then that I realized he was screaming at the shadowy mass. The undulating darkness shrank away from itself until it was completely gone and all that was left of it was my mother.

She was the shadow.

I don't remember much after that, I must have blacked out. The next morning I made my way to the kitchen and saw my parents sitting at the table enjoying their breakfast.

"There's eggs and toast," my dad said.

"Your orange juice is in the fridge," my mom piped in. "By the way, how's your head? We found you knocked out on the porch last night, you got a big bump."

"What happened?" My dad asked.

"I was running to get home on time and I tried to clear the steps in one jump; guess I didn't make it," I answered.

"Be more careful next time," my mother advised.

"Okay," I replied.

....

I've never been sure if I what I saw that night was real or if it was the nightmarish result of me bumping my head like I'd told my folks. All I know is after that night, I never disobeyed my mother again.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 36 Nights Left! "Someone In My Room"

The parents were dozing off one night in their quiet Kapolei home when they heard their daughter talking to herself in her room. One can only imagine the horror that the mother and father must have felt when they heard another child’s voice reply. It made their skin crawl.  The couple climbed out of bed to check on their only child when they saw that their little girl was huddled between them,

“Mommy, Daddy, somebody is in my room,”

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 37 Nights Left! "I Know The Routine"

The Hawaiian man was about thirty five years old, he wore a pair of board shorts while standing at the edge of the beach parking lot with a beer in his hand. A large tarp was attached to his Chevy SUV and beneath it was where his wife and two sons sat quietly eating their lunch. The Hawaiian man kept an eye on his three long fishing poles that he had set and cast out. The cow bells tied to each one were meant to sound off if a fish took the bait and began to pull on the line. Intermittently, the man would swear at people who innocently happened by his lines with no clue that they were there. It was discouraging to hear the acidic bile in his voice as he spat out each horrible expletive to perfect strangers with whom he had no acquaintance. Nearby campers felt sorry for his wife and two sons; it must have been embarrassing.

At thirty five years old the Hawaiian man’s wife looked much older than she really was. Her hair was more completely white than dark and the features that were once warm and supple were now wrinkled and varicose. For years she thought to herself that the man she married 15 years ago was not the man that she was married to now. Lately, she'd come to realize that the complete prick that her husband turned out to be was the person that he'd been all along.

 He had her completely fooled until it was too late to do anything about it.

She and the boys were in the way most of the time, otherwise she was there to obey him and fulfill his needs. The boys were her problem except when he needed them to clean the yard or take out his anger on. Mostly it was his anger that was at the center of everything and it showed.

Other campers near by who got a good catch happened by the other tents and shared whatever they had. Kamalo’o Lono was one such person who appeared at the Hawaiian man’s tent with an arm full of fish and some poi to share. The Hawaiian man blew him off and said that he wouldn’t eat anyone else’s fish except for the ones he would catch himself. As for the offering of Poi, the Hawaiian man refused that as well. Not discouraged by the inhospitable attitude of the man, Kamalo’o stepped forward and introduced himself and offered his hand in greeting. In turn the Hawaiian man replied,

“ I no shake hands bra, cause I neva know which hand going stab me in the back,”

The wife could not hold Kamalo’o’s eyes when he looked at her, it would cost her a beating if she did, so she kept her gaze to the ground and waited until her husband walked down the beach to examine his fishing poles.

“I’m sorry,” the wife said. “Please just go, my sons and I don’t want any trouble,”

Bewildered, Kamalo’o left and went back to his own camp site. The wife retrieved juice boxes from the cooler and grabbed napkins and a container of fruit for her sons to snack on. She popped an apple slice in her mouth just as her husband returned, she asked him if there was anything on the line and his reply was a punch right on her chin. It knocked her out cold and caused the boys to jump out of their chairs. While their mother lay there on the dirt and sand with the juice spilling out of the boxes and the fruit strewn about, the boys sunk back in their chairs with their heads down and did not dare to look. Their father kicked their mother in the ribs and hip, growling at her to get up. Her body jerked with no life in it, her eyes were rolled over and her face was turning blue. The apple slice was lodged in her throat but her husband was oblivious to that fact. He pulled her up by her hair and began to accuse her of wanting to run off and sleep with the man who came offering freshly caught fish and poi. When he finally realized that she was choking, he wound his hand back and slapped the area between her shoulder blades with such tremendous force that it left a bruised palm print. The apple slice came flying out, and the wife crumbled to the dirt coughing and gagging at the same time.

“Get off your ass and make me one sandwich,” the husband spat.

The other campers who witnessed the beating were already on their cell phones calling the police but the husband didn’t miss a thing.

“You know the routine when the cops come, right stupid?”

“I know the routine,” the wife replied.

….

Although witnesses came forward and verified the assault, the wife not only denied everything but she screamed at the other campers, accusing them of being jealous of her husband because of the wealth of fish he caught. The police saw no sign of any catch but the wife convinced them that some of the other campers stole everything. Looking at the scene as it played out, Kamalo’o was saddened by what he saw. The poor woman was caught in a cycle from which she would never escape, her husband had terrorized her so thoroughly that she would lie for him in spite of the abuse he had heaped upon her. In the meantime, the officers could not do a thing if the victim was not willing to help them, so they left.

The last light of the sun slowly disappeared behind the point of Kaena while the Hawaiian man and his family were finally packed and prepared to leave. There was not an ounce of a bite on his line for the entire day. The husband was sure that it was the fault of his wife somehow and he was certainly going to find an excuse to take his anger out on her until he was satisfied. The wife herself knew very well that she was going to suffer for the police showing up and for the lack of fish that her husband couldn't catch. The boys were fast asleep in the back seat and her husband snored loud enough to drown out the radio. The opportunity was at hand, it was now or never. She pressed slowly until the needle passed the eighty mile mark and made it’s way to ninety, ninety five and then one hundred. The SUV plowed past the cave and the wife could barely keep the vehicle on the pavement. Thank goodness the turn was a wider one. The telephone pole that became the focus of her attention was of a few years old and still planted firmly in the ground, it was the perfect target and she drove straight toward it. With her left hand on the steering wheel, the wife kept the SUV as steady as possible, there were only seconds left now, she had to act quick. She reached over to her husband and grabbed a handful of his hair and shoved his head into the window with everything she had. The glass shattered instantly and left a deep cut in his scalp with blood spurting everywhere. Even before her husband could figure out the situation and retaliate, she pointed toward something up ahead and screamed excitedly,

“Look! Look! Look!”

The wife didn’t take the telephone pole head on, instead she veered a little to the left so that the passengers side of the SUV would receive the full impact of the crash. There was not going to be a beating at home, he wasn’t going to take it on her sons. Her husband saw his own death coming and could do nothing to stop it and it scared the shit out of him. For once, he had no control.

….

On nights where the moon is in it’s last phase before it goes completely dark, one can witness a phantom SUV plowing past the cave in an eerie silence. A few yards down the road it obliterates itself into a blinding ball of fire as it collides with a road side telephone pole. Many who understand the strange haunting say that the spectral vision was one woman’s way to escape her suffering.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 38 Stories Left! "Tabby: The First Sisters"

Long before Samson Mock Chew opened his Wai'alae Avenue restaurant, it was the sight of a tragic murder. In 1966 The Four sisters were kidnapped from their home in broad daylight when the kidnappers went to the wrong house, and it turned out that the family of the four girls they took had no money. The girls were subsequently murdered in an empty grass field that, in three years, time would become Mock Chew's Eatery. When Samson Mock Chew's ghost began to haunt the storage room after his heart attack earlier this year, it drew focus away from the real problem. The spirits of the Four Sisters.

Recently a new hire at the restaurant, which wasn't Chinese, saw bowls of food and Talismans that were placed outside the four entrances of the establishment. They were meant to spiritually feed any ghosts who may be lingering about. This custom was intended to prevent them from haunting the restaurant. The new worker, not being aware of the tradition, dumped the food and took the bowls in to be washed. Immediately after that, the specters of the four sisters began to manifest in front of customers and employees alike. Samson literally had a heart attack when he realized what was going on. However, in his form as an apparition, he mistook Tabby Kahana to be one of the ghostly sisters. In reality, Tabby was trying to exorcise the ghosts of the four girls, but when she saw that her Uncle Lopaka was on the scene, she played dumb and went on her way.

Now, here she was again about to perform the same ritual to exorcise the dark memories of the four female spirits when she saw a Hawaiian man in a coat and tie knocking on the front window of the restaurant from the inside. He was motioning for her to come in to the establishment. It was her Uncle Boy.

She waved and smiled, collected her things and went inside. There were several different plates of food sitting on the table when Tabby gave Boy a hug and took a seat.

"I hope you're hungry, there's a lot of food here," Boy pointed with his chopsticks.

"Uncle, it's rude to point with chopsticks in your hand, it could be bad luck," she warned.

"Sorry, I hope no one saw," he said as he looked around and smiled.

"Oh, candied shrimp and pork hum ha! My favorite!" She squealed.

"Eat, girl, no shame," Boy said as he consumed the plum sauced duck.

Tabby helped herself and filled her small bowl with rice. She piled some of the roast duck and the char siu on and topped it off with some sauce from the beef broccoli.

"Thank you, Uncle, how much do I owe you for the meal?" Tabby asked.

"Nothing; just need your attention for a little while," Boy replied.

"You knew I was coming?" Tabby asked.

"Yes," Boy nodded.

"Was it something I did?" Tabby asked again.

"It's something that you were about to do," Boy confirmed.

"I see.………, so what is it really?" Tabby asked as she piled on the abalone.

"I can't say, but it's big, and it has to do with the property that this restaurant is sitting on. Step back from this one for a month, and keep an eye on the news. After everything blows over, you can come back and exorcise the ghosts of those sisters. No one will stop you," Boy said.

"You know about the Four Sisters?" Tabby was surprised.

"My parents knew, they told me about it when I was about your age," Boy nodded.

"Is it like people in critical positions of authority big? That kinda big?" Tabby was curious.

"Bigger," Boy deadpanned. His face turned severe, which was always the sign that Boy had made his point and that there was no further discussion.

Tabby gazed at the oyster chicken noodles and fumbled them together with the rice, "Am I ever going to know about what happened to Daniel and my father?"

Boy took a sip of his tea and returned to his beef broccoli.

"Are you ever going to tell me?" Tabby asked.

"When you're older," Boy replied.

"I feel like I'm old now, I don't fit in with the kids at my school because of what I do. I can't relate to them because they couldn't possibly relate to me, but I still go. I always go to school every day because I don't want Aunty Flower to worry, and at the same time, I have to do these roundabout things to make sure that she doesn't find about who I am. She thinks I shut her out because I'm not ready to talk about my father and my brother, but how could she possibly understand? How?
Did you know that she has me seeing some wanna be therapeutic healer once a week? Man, if I ever told him about the things I see and the things I do, he'd have me locked up or worse! But what could be worse than this kind of life? What could be worse?" Quiet tears stained Tabby's cheeks.

"Death," Boy said. "Death could be worse,"

Just then, the waitress arrived and re-filled their water and their tea and left.

"I wish I could have a normal life, I wish I could have a house and a wife and kids and a dog," Boy continued.

"Why don't you?" Tabby asked.

"For the same reason that you can't relate to your friends at school, the same reason you can't talk to your Aunty," Boy began. "The only people we can talk to is each other, people like yourself and me and Lopaka,"

Tabby's expression told Boy that she was waiting for the news, the reason, the meaning as to why her father and brother died. She wanted to know how it applied to her life and what she was supposed to do with the rest of her life?

"So many things have happened to you at your age, and yes I know very well you feel as if you're more mature than most people MY age, and you probably are. But you're still eleven years old, and the magnitude of what happened to Hale (Hah-Leh) and Daniel is too much for you to shoulder, knowing it will destroy you." The look on Boy's face told Tabby that he did care for her well being and that he was not purposely keeping what she needed to know from her. At the same time, it broke her heart to know it, she couldn't hold her tears back.

"I don't cry ugly," Tabby was trying to compose herself.

Boy removed a small rectangular box from his coat pocket and slid it across the table to Tabby. He opened it so she could view the contents within,

"It's not much, but it's means something to me, and I'd like you to have it," Boy offered.

"It's a fountain pen," Tabby said.

"My father made it from Mamane wood and gave it to me when I was your age; he said typewriters and word processors are one thing, but the soul of your thoughts and intentions are contained within this simple object. It can move mountains and break hearts and bring joy and peace to the world," Boy said. "Until the day comes when you are ready to know what happened, Tabby, I want you to take this fountain pen and make it your soul."

Tabby held the box and walked over to Boy and hugged him again, "Thank you, Uncle,"

"It's okay, let's finish this food!" Boy asked.

The meal solidified the trust that Tabby would have for the very few people who would truly understand her plight. They would do their best to mentor her and help her life to be as healthy as possible. The great thing about Samson Mock Chew's Eatery is that it was a Chinese food restaurant that played music from the '60s and 70's all the time.



"Come down off your throne and leave your body alone.
Somebody must change.
You are the reason I've been waiting for so long.
Somebody holds the key,"

.............

A month later, it was reported on the six 'o clock news that state senator Thomas Rocha was one of the men involved in the 1966 kidnapping and death of the Four Sisters from home in Kaimuki. He was sixteen at the time; the three other men involved in the long-unsolved crime finally confessed after agreeing to a plea bargain. The deal was that their sentences would be reduced in exchange for their confession. Senator Rocha was arrested at his home and died of a heart attack while en route to the police station.  It was revealed that the location of the bodies was where Mock Chew's Eatery now stood. True to his word, Boy contacted Tabby to let her know to be in front of the restaurant two days before the authorities would appear with a warrant and close the facilities to exhume the remains of the sisters. Tabby was able to perform the late hour ritual that summoned the ghost of each girl forth from their burial place. Each one manifested from a corner of the eatery, and each appeared with their throats cut from ear to ear. Each with bloodstains on their clothing. Each had not yet reached the pink of their youth, each was merely a girl at the precipice of becoming young women. Each one would never know what that would be like. They walked from their corners and approached Tabby face to face. They were terrified, lost, and confused. Their eyes searched for answers as they held on to one another; Tabby began to chant in Hawaiian, and a portal opened with blinding light emanating from the inside. She pointed to the opening and nodded, indicating that the girls should follow her directions. Carefully making their way to the sunlight, the last sister looked at Tabby and smiled. The sisters stepped in, and the portal vanished behind them.


(Later that night)


It was two in the morning, and Tabby sat on the sidewalk just outside the 7-11 on Waialae Avenue. She'd already wolfed down three spam musubi and was working on her fourth when Aunty Flowers Pontiac pulled up. Her father's sister emerged from her car and sat next to Tabby and took a sip from her nieces monster-sized Big Gulp. Tabby carefully peeled back the wrapping on her fourth spam musubi when she suddenly broke down crying. Her shoulders were shaking, and the dam burst soon after.  Flower hugged her niece and held on to her for as long as it would take for Tabby to let it all out.

'It's alright, sweetheart, it's alright. I'm here to love you and support you, there's no judgment. Only love, only love Tabby." Flower said.

Tabby had no words for her Aunt, all she wanted to do for the moment was drown in her tears.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 39 Nights Left! "Nobody coming"

The small reception room at the Waikiki Hotel was empty, except for a few tables and the buffet. Pictures of families posing for photographs decorated two long tables inside the door where an elderly Hawaiian woman sat. In front of her was an open guest book and a bunch of little square cards with table numbers. A very old Hawaiian gentleman in a sports coat and polo shirt sat at the opposite end of the room. His khaki slacks had all the creases in the right place, and he wore a pair of loafers on his feet. One shaky hand held his smartphone while the other slid the pictures on his screen left and right. Marty Robbins played over the speakers as an afterthought while the old man stared at pics of his old friends.  Each pic was a reminder of how young and naive they were in their youth, even though they thought they had all the answers to life figured out.

The elderly Hawaiian woman was now standing in front of her lone companion,

"Alika! We go! Nobody coming already,"

“Hah?” Alika responded.

"NOBODY COMING!" She shouted.

"Nobody coming?" Alika asked. "How come?"

"Cause dey all too old or dey all dead! Pretty soon, we are going to be dead! We go already!" She shouted.

"No talk like dat!" Alika shoed her away. "They going come!"

"We eighty-six already, Alika," the woman reminded her companion.

"I telling you dey going come," Alika insisted.

"How you know?" The woman was practically interrogating the old man.

"Das was always your problem, Hattie; you don't have faith," Alika replied. "Das, why you still one old maid until today,"

Hattie looked at her watch and smirked, "This event was supposed to start at seven; it's nine now. We only have this place until ten; dey got one hour to show up,"

The next forty-five minutes dragged by slowly until Alika finally realized that Hattie might be correct. Their old friends were not going to show. They had lives of their own, after all: children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Some were in retirement homes, while others were ridden with dementia and incontinence. The ones who were supposed to come were the last few, and they lived at a senior care home. There was a mini-bus that was supposed to take them.

 The DJ for the night played "A Summer Place." The sweeping music filled the ballroom, and for Alika, that was the final call: There would be no reunion. He managed to rest his aged body from his chair, took Hattie out to the dance floor, and held her close.

"I was stupid; I really wanted to believe they would come. I was wrong," Alika said, misty-eyed.

"Don't be too hard on yourself; some theories are just theories, that's all," Hattie assured him.

"Yeah, but if you die all of a sudden, quickly, one time, and you no mo' time for 'tink. Maybe you dunno you're dead? Maybe you 'think you still alive, so if the last thing you 'thinking are you going drink one beer and then you die one time..." Alika must have repeated this theory to Hattie a million times in the last ten years.

"Then your ghost is going to come back and drink that beer.… Yeah, yeah, I know, I've heard it so many times, Alika. It's getting old, like us." Hattie sighed.

Hattie noticed that Alika had suddenly gone quiet and that he did not reply with the usual pissed-off tone once she'd pushed his buttons. She looked at him to see what was wrong, but his eyes never met hers. 

He was looking right past her, his finger pointing toward the doors.

They'd come, after all. They shuffled in slowly, but there they were, mangled, broken, flesh hanging from some of their faces. All some of the others could do was crawl because their torsos were all that was left; their intestines trailed behind them and left a line of slime and blood on the finely manicured carpet. The rest were unrecognizable because they were burnt to a crisp, but no matter the circumstances, they came.

"I told you," Alika said. "I told you,"

…

The mini-bus from the senior care home left the facilities at six in the evening and was well ahead of schedule as it headed to Waikiki. Its occupants were excited and relieved to be out and about. As the vehicle took the South King Street exit, it was rear-ended by a Matson truck that was forced to take the same exit when it was cut off by a speeding car. The forward momentum and weight of the truck sent the mini-bus flying over the guard rail, where it cleared the overpass and landed head-first on the other side of the freeway. A few of the occupants in the vehicle were killed instantly. Others died slowly from the injuries they suffered, the rest burned to death once the mini bus burst into flames. But come hell or high water, they made it to the dance.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 40 Nights Left! "Kamapua'a Kapolei"

No one knew what it was but it appears just before sunrise in front of the Kapolei courthouse. It’s been estimated to be eight feet tall and it wears a black feathered cape or at least that’s what it looks like from a distance. No one has been brave enough to get any close up details. Except for Lorainne Imerida. It materialized in the passenger seat of her SUV as she passed the courthouse on her way to Target. It was vile and malevolent, it’s features were dark and foreboding and it’s eyes glowed red. It exhaled it’s foul breath on Lorainne and caused her to throw up. It

disappeared right after.

For the following three days the poor woman would wake in the middle of the night with deep claw marks all over her body and her room smelled like animal feces. An aunt of the woman sent her to the island of Molokai to seek a healer; she has not been seen since.

Be wary just before sunrise when walking or driving past the Kapolei courthouse. Who knows what might be waiting?

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 41 Days Left! "Cheaper"

Everyone knew that the old building on Merchant street was woefully haunted. You name it, it happened. The structure saw better days during the territorial era but now it was old and worn out by the ravages of time. Some of the original wiring needed to be replaced and rather than spending a few more dollars for quality work, the boss at the office went with a cheaper family owned electrician business. It was nearly three ten in the morning when Masa Hiranaga began working on the wall sockets. His son Justin’s routine was to have the tool box open and hand his father the tools he needed.

“Gimme one flat head, Justin. The small one,” Masa held his hand out and the screwdriver was placed in his open palm. It was an inch too big for the screw. “The small one I said, this one is too big,”

Just as he Felt the smaller screwdriver placed in his hand, Masa got a closer look and saw that the head of the screw was shredded, "Oh no...tsk...gimme one pliers Justin, this thing is no good already,"

Masa suddenly heard thundering foot steps coming down the hall way and glanced up. Who could be here at this hour?  It was Justin holding two cups of coffee and a white paper bag.

“Dad, I get coffee and doughnuts. Take a break real fast, we go eat!”

Masa looked behind him and saw the open tool box and a pair of pliers floating in the air. His face became pale and he scrambled to his feet and grabbed his son and ran out of the building. They never came back, not even for their tools.

The word of what happened to Masa and Justin got around in the electricians community and by the time the boss at the office was willing to pay a bit more for quality work, no one would do it.

No one sane that is.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 42 Nights Left! "Tabby: Aunty Flower"

Tabby’s aunt is her father’s oldest sister who happened to be nothing like her father. She was a free spirit hippie who never grew out of her psychedelic teen years and was ultra cool and laid back. This is who Tabby went to live with after her father and brother died; her aunt’s name is Pualani but she prefers to go by, “Flower,”

Aunt Flower had no clue as to her younger brother’s lifestyle; Tabby felt that the less smart her aunt was about the life they led, the better. It was safer that way. If Tabby wanted to, she could come and go as she pleased but she did not want to cause her aunt any worry. But when she had to do her job, she would always call to let her aunt know that she was studying at a friends house or that she had band practice after school. Which most often times she did. In light of the tragic experience that her niece lived through, Flower arranged for Tabby to attend a once a week healing session with her personal Guru/therapist, Layden Chu.

Today is the first day.

…..........

“Shall we start out with some deep breathing exercises before we begin?” Layden asked.

“How come your name is Layden Chu, but you’re haole?” Tabby asked.

“I took the name of my venerable Sifu Chu after he passed away,” Layden replied.

“Did you get permission to do that?” Tabby queried.

“It was done to honor my Sifu,” Layden bowed his head in reverence.

“What’s your real last name?” Tabby inquired.

“My transitional Hinayana name was Epstein, but now that I have reached the Mahayana plateau, I am Chu,” he said softly.

“We’re here because my aunty flower wants you to help me right?” Tabby asked.

“Yes, I am here to bring you to a place of perfect light and healing,” Layden confirmed.

“Then can you just be Epstein and not Chu? I love my aunty and I dong this for her, I’d be a lot more responsive if you could just be your Epstein self instead of your Mahayana one,” Tabby shared.

Layden took a deep breath and relaxed his stupa like posture and sat with his back up against the wall.

“Alright kid, how’s this? Is this okay?” Layden smiled.

“It’s more tolerable than a minute ago,” Tabby replied. “ I don’t have the urge to slap you anymore,”

“Let’s do this, you can do your homework or play on your phone or whatever and I’ll check my e-mail and we’ll just hang out for the next hour, and then we’re done,” Layden suggested. “How’s that?”

“Works for me, “ Tabby agreed.

“Your aunt flower forked up a lot of money for a year of these sessions, so at some point, we’re gonna have to talk to each other,” Layden shrugged his shoulders. “This is me being my Epstein self, which you said would make you responsive,”

“I said I’d be a lot more responsive, I didn’t say when,” Tabby removed her journal from her bag and began to submit an entry.

…..........

Entry 36: Tabby Kahana. 3:38pm. Wednesday afternoon.

Ghost of a Filipino man began to haunt his old house once his widow decided to re-marry. He was pissed, but how the hell did he find out after being long dead? Anyway, the Filipino man’s ghost possessed his widow and made her try and kill her new husband on their honeymoon. The problem, is they’re new age Filipinos from the mainland so they are clueless as to their Filipino heritage and what they should do. They’ve saged and smudged their home and have performed a truncated version of an exorcism. Nothing is working. The ghost of the first husband continues to possess the body of his widow and will not leave. Family calls me for help but to be fair, I, in turn, called an Albularyo or a Manggagamot. For lack of a better term, it’s a witch doctor. The old woman meets me at the house on Kahualena Street but the possessed widow is waiting in the front driveway. She attacks the albularyo; the poor woman is caught off guard and cannot cast her spell. Just my luck, there’ a life-size mirror in the garage. I grab it and scream at the widowed woman, she turns and sees her own reflection in the mirror but it isn’t her, it’s the ghost of her dead husband. His ghost sees what his ghost has done to his widow’s body, he’s horrified, he leaves. He never comes back. Success.


…..........

“You’re writing something in your journal?” Layden asked.

“I’m not gonna share it with you if that’s what your asking,” Tabby offered. “See how I’m not even looking at you?”

“We’ve got a year, we have to talk sometime,” Layden sighed.

“I can’t share what’s in my journal, ever,” Tabby replied.

“I’m taking a look at your shirt there, it looks like it’s been let out. It kinda looks like a bit of extra material was added on to it,” Layden noticed. “That’s Hello Kitty on it, right?”

“It was a birthday gift from my father and my brother when I was seven,” Tabby said quietly.

“Oh okay cool, did you have cake too on that day?” Layden felt like he almost had his foot in the door.

“No, they died later that same day,” Tabby was even quieter. “I’m gonna write in my journal some more,”

“Sure,” Layden said. “Yeah, sure,”

Remove foot from the door, and insert in mouth,

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 43 Nights Left! "Tabby: Reckoning"

Its bad parenting is what it is, plain and simple. Some people were not meant to have children. Daria Quentipo's fascination with her brand new smartphone did the job; with it's unlimited everything, it was all Daria could do to keep herself from swooning. The camera was the first thing she exploited, taking almost a hundred selfies in two minutes, she began to post her pics on every social media account she had. All the while, her five-year-old son Kahsh became overstimulated by all the bright, colorful lights and blaring music in the shopping mall and wandered away. Shoppers barely noticed the little boy in his three-day-old shorts, shirt, and slippers.

Neil David noticed Kahsh even before he drifted away from his mother. She was overdone, too much hair, too much makeup, and too much jewelry. It was evident that her son was just another knock-off, another collectible. Except this collectible was a living breathing human being. Neil watched as the woman tinkered with her new phone and handed the little boy a stuffed power ranger doll so that he would stay out of her hair, but he quickly became bored. Neil kept a close watch on the boy's movements once the boy cut his own meandering path through the mall and found his way to the escalator. Neil was beside himself. It was almost as if the fates were handing the little boy to him on a silver platter; the day could not get any better than this. Neil's mouth began to water, and he went dizzy for a second; the fever was taking over. His first inclination was to grab the boy right now and run, but he fought that temptation because he knew he had to be low key. It had to appear as if Neil and the boy were related so no one would suspect anything and try to stop him. There was always someone who couldn't mind their own damned business.

Always.

Once he and the boy were outside, he had to find a secluded place where he could kill the child right away. After that, eating him wouldn't be difficult at all, he would only consume the heart, the liver, and the pancreas. The rest he would burn.

…

The escalator gently pushed Kahsh to the landing on the second floor. The smell of cotton candy lured him to the left, where he saw a tall thin man standing there eating a huge pink ball of it. His hair was slicked back wet, his skin gave off the same kind of sheen like one of the fish from Kash's tank. Whenever his mother wasn't paying attention, which was often, Kahsh would remove the fish and scrutinize it. It had a gooey thing that covered its scales. That's what the man's skin looked like.

His glasses were thick, and it made his eyes look like a pair of dark jellybeans; the color offset the faded gray stripes on his buttoned-down shirt. His khaki shorts were old but neatly pressed, and he wore shoes with no socks. The tall thin man smiled and waved at Kahsh, and Kahsh waved back.

"Oh, I certainly couldn't eat all of this cotton candy by myself, I wish there was someone who could help me eat it," the man said in a sing-song voice. "Do you know anybody who could help me eat the rest of this cotton candy?"

Kahsh nodded and raised his hand, "Me, I can,"

"Here," the tall thin man said as he took a seat on a bench. "I'll sit here, and you can sit next to me, and we can share, like on Sesame Street. Sharing."

"Sharing," Kahsh nodded.

The tall thin man held the cotton candy stick between the both of them and let Kahsh take as much of the pink sugary delight as he wanted. Before long, the tall thin man handed the entire stick to the little boy and smiled,

"Ooooh, I'm full! You can have the rest!"

There was no protest from Kahsh at all, he worked on the airy confection with the zeal of a starving animal.

…

As easy as you please, Neil stood up and grabbed the little boy by his hand, and the two of them walked toward the double door exit of the mall. His plan was already in place; once he got the boy into his car, he would snap his neck and lay his body on the floor beneath the dashboard. The blanket in his back seat would come in handy to cover the body, he would then drive out to the Waipio soccer field. It was secluded, and the tall grass would easily camouflage his olive drab civic. It was his usual location, it worked on all the countless others, and no one ever found out.

 Ever.

His mind was so intensely wrapped around the forthcoming task that he screamed when he bumped into someone who was coming in through the double doors. He was disoriented, and so it took him a second or two before he could recognize who it was that stood in front of him. The glittering shirt with the face of a kitten on it and Tabby's schoolgirl plaid skirt and shoes were the same. Her black backpack strapped to her shoulders and her pigtails seemed oddly familiar.

"Neil David, is that you in there?" the girl asked.

"I'm sorry, you got the wrong person," Neil replied.

"It might not be your body, but I know it's you, Neil." There was a menacing tone in her voice.

"Excuse me?" He shrieked.

"I was six years old, but you only managed to rape me. My father stopped you before you could disembowel me like all the other kids," the girl waited for a moment before a mode of recognition surfaced in the man's eyes, and there it was. His eyes went wide and then rolled over white.

"Tabby," Neil's voice was a low hiss with a growl just beneath the surface.

"Bazinga," Tabby replied. She deftly removed Kahsh from Neil's grip and wiped the gooey substance from his hand. Pointing toward the security guard who was on his cell phone, Tabby instructed Kahsh to go over to the guard and tell him how he'd lost his mommy.

"Can I take the cotton candy?" Kahsh asked.

"Of course," Tabby smiled. "It's all yours,"

Kahsh ran off to the security guard while Tabby continued her conversation with Neil David.

"We can do this right here, or we can go somewhere quiet," Tabby said. "Either way, you and me are gonna dance,"

"Some hero was your father, he caught me with you and turned me into the police. I was killed in prison, not by his hand!" Neil opened his mouth wide, and his protruding tongue turned black and green.

"Okay," Tabby sighed. "Too much talking,"

In one swift motion, Tabby grabbed Neil by the back of his neck and shoved a handful of Kaua'i salt into his mouth. Covering his mouth now, Tabby quickly shot a straight-edged knife kick into the back of Neil's knee and brought him to the floor. She held on as the body that Neil possessed began to shake violently. Tabby's free hand quickly grabbed an eyedropper from her skirt pocket and squeezed out a drop in Neil's eye. It was the first pure raindrop of the morning, which was gathered in the middle of a taro leaf, the most genuine blessing there can be.

The body went limp in Tabby's arms, and a greenish smoke came from the pores of its skin. It was only then that Tabby noticed a crowd had gathered.

"Epilepsy, he's okay now," she reassured the mob.

The crowd dispersed, and Tabby began to address the tall thin man who just a second ago, was possessed by the ghost of a child murder named Neil David.

"You okay? Do you know where you are?"

"How did I get here? I was at the airport about to get on a plane, and that's the last thing I remember," the man said.

"What's your name?" Tabby asked.

"Will Burney," he replied.

"Will Burney, your family, has been looking for you for the past two years," Tabby removed her backpack and took out a cell phone and handed it to Will. "It's a pay as you go phone, it's still got juice on it. Call your family, let them know you're alive."

"Thanks," Will was still trying to make sense of everything.

….

Tabby walked across the crowded parking lot to where her bike was chained up. Her natural instinct was to kill Neil David, but how could she? His ghost possessed the body of an innocent person who was not responsible for what happened to her. Should she be mad at her father, who chose to turn Neil David into the authorities without killing him on his own? Who would know? Her father would not let her brother finish the job either, but after that incident, Tabby began to receive her training. Maybe that training was her father's way of saying he was sorry? Or perhaps it was because she was robbed of her innocence that he felt he could teach her everything he knew? There was no satisfaction today, there was no way that she could physically murder the man who raped her. There was nothing tangible for her except her hatred, which could not be rightly quenched when the moment of truth was at hand. Instead, she had to do the right thing and save two innocent people.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 44 Nights Left! "Ho'oku'ike" (Recognize)

A word of wisdom was imparted to me by a very wise and sage like person a few years ago. It was simple but it carried a lot of weight,

“Once you recognize evil, it recognizes you. Measure caution with the next step you take, for it could mean your salvation or your own undoing.”

...

An old classmate phoned one late night with a very urgent request, he believed that some evil entity in his Makakilo home had taken possession of his wife. He desperately needed my help. I informed him that exorcisms are not within the realm of my experience and that he would have to consult his priest or pastor or what have you. He would not relent however and he urged me to do it as a favor to him, for the sake of old times.

I appreciated his penchant for nostalgia but I emphasized that he needed a qualified person to perform the task for which their skills are honed. He was sorely disappointed and was very honest in regards to how he felt,

“Man I thought we were long time friends?”

“We are,” I reassured him. “But you’re asking for something that’s way above my pay grade,”

“Is it because you no can,” he tweaked, “or is it because you no like?”

“Look man, even if I could, I can’t.” I was pointed. “I got a wife and kids, and grand kids. I couldn’t take that chance,”

“So you no like,” he confirmed.

“Call Kahu Kaleo Lyons, he’s qualified and sanctioned to do what you want,” I advised him.

“Fine brah, check you laters,” he hung up.

….

Two nights later and I am jolted from my sleep in the late hours of darkness; a terrible feeling has come over me. I dress quickly and in the next few minutes I am driving out to the more recent developments in Makakilo. The home of my old classmate Ronald Higa is surrounded by his neighbors who express grave concern for the noises and unusual commotion which emanates from within the confines of his domicile. I push my way through the mob and bound the stairs to the second floor. The smell of death is everywhere, it is sickening because the aroma is a living thing that creeps into the very pores of your skin if you have not the strength and character to endure it. I am not yet in Ronald’s room but I can already hear the low animal like growling; but what shakes me to the core is the invocation that I hear from Ronald,

“Invite’ you omnis immundus spiritus...!!!”

“Nooooo!!!” I scream with dread. I run into the room and spin him around and push him out of the way. Other than being covered with vomit and blood, his wife’s countenance is normal. Her eyes are not yellowed in color, her skin is not festered by the wounds of holy water. Neither is her hair matted; rather it is lush and effervescent. She is adorned in her best gown with all of her jewelry and sparkling earrings, but she stands with the resolve of a wounded dog, prepared to fight to the death. She simultaneously levitates while her husband recites the invocation, he gives his all to secure her by her thighs until he can lower her to the carpet again and again. Her beauty is the illusion that would fool most but in this instance there was not a moment to waste; I faced my open palms to my mouth and took over the invocation,

“Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritu...!!!”

Pushing my palms out toward Ronald’s wife, a massive wind covered her body and raced out the front door immediately thereafter. She collapsed in a heap; in spite of all that she must have endured, she was safe.The entity was gone; however there was no nostalgia or mercy to be extended to my old classmate.

 I pushed him back and screamed at him, “What the hell are you thinking???”

Ronald reacted with more disappointment, “See? You can but you neva like,”

“I mean, what the hell are you doing giving an invocation for an exorcism?! You could have gotten yourself killed or worse!” I was face to face with him now, breathing on him so as to make my point.

“I neva trust nobody else but you! But since you no like, I went on Google and found something and did ‘um myself!” His tears of anger and frustration let itself free.

“Your Latin sucks, ‘Invite’ (in-vee-teh) means to ‘invite’, you were inviting evil forces from hell to come and TAKE your wife, not exorcise them,” I was livid and without a filter. “When I said that you should consult a professional, I meant it!” I turned and quickly made my exit from the house. Ronald chased after to me to offer apologies and thanks but my only reply to him was that he should never call me again. It was now the deepest most darkest hour of night and I found myself driving toward Kaena point where I could cleanse myself in its pristine waters before I returned home.

…

In the future I must learn to disregard these urgent premonitions that alarm the comfort of my sleep and peace of mind. Friend or foe be damned.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 45 Nights Left! "Pale Uhi" (Veil)

(Fiction)

Entry: December 1890


Of this time in which I have endured the long days of suffering through my failing health, my physicians prudently advise me to embark on a trip to San Francisco, where perhaps the atmosphere of that city will prove to be agreeable to my condition. Were it not for the odd visions which I have witnessed as of late, I would have denied such a recommendation. However, should the last days of my life be close at hand, it is my will to die here with my beloved Kapi’olani at my side as my ancestors receive me in to the bosom of Kanehunamoku.

The visions are but momentary but startling enough to merit concern, for it seems that I am the only witness to these wraith like shadows that appear and disappear altogether. On the day previous while retiring to read in my study, I sought to recapture my interest in birds from a large encyclopedia among my collection. I was taken aghast when a strange gathering of people materialized as if from nothing. They took notice of me and what followed thus were their screams, they may as well have witnessed the approach of the dreaded procession of those who travel in the night. Before I could demand the cause of their audacious trespass, they were gone as quickly as they appeared.

Alas, these strange hallucinations have not regarded themselves to the company of people but to the appearance of monolithic structures, some being mightier than that of King Solomon’s temple. They appear more frequently than is custom and they seem to hover in the night like silent sentinels, obscuring the view of Puowaina and the pathway into the embrace of Nu’uanu. Their origins are of a strange civilization and yet each one surrounds my home. On the last night of low twelve, I sought to enjoy the cool soothing air and took to myself a suitable opportunity to stroll the grounds of the royal palace. I was vexed to noticed that oddly dressed persons at this late hour with no business or reason to be here, pass freely through Hakaleleponi with no respite from my guards.

Where are my guards?

I approach the cowans with candor and affability in the hopes that my pleasant nature will ease them of the want to scream. They too vanish without warning; it is for this reason that my decision to heed the advice of my physicians has been made. Perhaps the atmosphere in fair San Francisco will acclimate my health to improve. Perhaps I will find relief from these odd visions.

Kalakaua Rex


…..

Today: 2016


In today’s news the executive director of the palace and it’s curator quelled unfounded rumors that the ghost of the late King Kalakaua began to make appearances in his former royal home. Witnesses however, claimed to have seen his ghost in the royal study and have seem him roaming the grounds of the palace after midnight. Whether these claims are true or not, it has generated a lot of interest in the history of the palace itself.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 46 Nights Left! "Maha'oi nui"

“ I don’t even know if get fish in Manoa falls; I was the only one here this morning right at sunrise. I figured since nobody was around, I could take my clothes off real fast and stand under the falls. It was so cold but was really refreshing and invigorating, kinda wakes you up. After I was done and I went to get my clothes, and he was standing there with his tackle box and fishing pole. I think he stepped on my clothes by accident, which is maybe why he was looking down at it. I figured why cover-up, right? He could see me already so I just asked him if he could give me my clothes? He did, of course, but he was really a shame, you could tell. He said sorry, and he gave me my clothes, and I left, I never saw him after that.” The Hawaiian woman said.

“You say you never saw him after that, and yet you’re the one who found his body,” the detective asked. “That’s conflicting information.”

“I said he gave me my clothes but not my shoes, I came back to get my shoes,” the Hawaiian woman replied.

“So, you walked off naked holding on to your clothes, and obviously you’re barefoot; when did you notice that your shoes were missing?” The detective was pressing now.

 The Hawaiian woman gave the detective her best resting bitch face, “When I found a place where I could put my clothes on,”

“You just said earlier that you didn’t attempt to hide the fact that you were standing there with no clothes on because the victim had just seen you naked at the moment. I mean, since you were so casual about the whole thing, why didn’t you just get dressed in front of him?” The detective was nearly shouting his inquire.

The Hawaiian woman removed her shirt and shorts and stepped out of her shoes. The detective was taken aback at how charming she was. Her face was already perfect, but her body was the complete punctuation that brought the sentence to life.

“Because, fuck you, that’s why,” she replied.

She surprised the two hundred and forty-pound detective by picking him up over her head and tossing him into the pond. She dove in the right after him and disappeared under the dark waters. It wasn’t until later that morning when Josh Kreager and his family who were visiting from a small town in Iowa would come across the bodies of the fisherman and the detective floating in the pond. Both would be found fully clothed with car keys, wallets, and cell phones in their pockets. Both of their lips were swollen over black; their eyes were wide open, and there appeared to be some sort of thick black liquid dripping from their mouths. Under their fingernails was a dull kind of dark moss; their shoes were gone, but just around the bottom of their ankles were deep bruised finger marks.

It was the Kreager family’s first day in the land of aloha, and they spent the first twenty minutes of it screaming in horror.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 47 Nights Left! "Tabby's blade of grass"

The family struggled to hold their father down but in his dotage, he gained a whole new kind of strength. Even his youngest son could not hold his father’s feet, nor could his oldest son contain the old man by holding his wrists. Their mother could only stand by and watch in utter shock as her once feeble husband screamed in a voice that was not his own. All the while her sons looked at the eleven-year-old girl who stood at the foot of their father’s bed.

They needed to know what the next step was,

“Tabby! Tabby what do we do now? Tabby!” Don shouted. Frustration was setting in and he was losing his patience.

“Tabby!” Don’s younger brother Adam was in tears now, his emotions were frayed after eight hours of the spiritual battering that he and his family endured. He was at his wit's end waiting for Tabby to put a stop to the madness.

…

Tabby’s body was present but her mind was somewhere else. The scene before her changed suddenly and she was transported back four years previous to the bedroom in her old home. Her seven-year-old self-watched helplessly as her father thrashed about in his bed while his body intermittently contorted into a painful tableau. Her brother Daniel finally managed to tie his father’s one hand to the bedpost before he secured both feet. Suddenly, Hale Kahana’s body went limp while simultaneously, Daniel’s body jumped and shuddered as if he’d been jolted with electricity. Tabby already knew that whatever it was that had possessed her father had now taken a hold of Daniel. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, his cheeks were shallow and he salivated uncontrollably. He was slowly stalking his way toward Tabby like an animal stalking its prey. She was no longer his sister, the thing that possessed him could smell the blood coursing through her veins but what was most intoxicating was the aroma of her fear.

Daniel took a running leap at his sister and was yanked back to the floor. It was Tabby’s father; he managed to untie himself and now had his bonds tied around Daniel’s neck as he yelled at Tabby,

“Ha’alele!”

Tabby had never seen the look of urgent fear on her father’s face before and it scared her to her core. The last thing she heard as she took the basement steps two at a time was the voice of her father invoking a pule (prayer) to release Daniel of the thing that took his body. It wasn’t just a random possession, a kahuna had sent it as a vile curse to harm her father. However, at the most crucial moment, it released her father and jumped into Daniel. Tabby waited for most of the day for her father and Daniel to come out of the house and get her, but they never came. The neighbors saw her sitting by herself on her lawn and asked her where her family might be? She couldn’t say anything to form her speech aright. A few minutes later her neighbors ventured into her home and emerged visibly shaken, an hour and a half later the police were there as the EMT brought the bodies of her father and brother out on gurneys. She never knew what transpired in the basement of her home.

….


Tabby was back in her own body now, the air in the room was freezing cold and the energy wheel in the glass bell jar spun wildly. The smell of sulfur was absent as was the smell of excrement and bile.

This was not a demonic possession.

“Tabby!!! Whadda we do?!!!” Don had a hold of her now. “Tabby snap out of it! We need you!!!”


“Let him go,” Tabby exhaled.

“What?” Don was shocked.

“I said let him go, untie him,” Tabby said.

Adam nearly collapsed; the need to battle against something that only seemed to get stronger each time they attempted to restrain it was now over. His mother Alison, knelt next to him and helped untie her husband. Mr. Layden Hoapili’s body was relaxed and he was breathing easily. The life he led was one filled with hard work and it showed in the number of callouses on his hands and the war mapped lines on his face. But late night meals on the run and drinking took its toll on his body. His family felt relieved that he was his old feeble, useless self again. Of course, they wished he was as strong like before but not in the supernatural way that unhinged their life.

“What now?” Don asked.

“Your father probably had people in his family who were chosen to be the Haka,” Tabby began. “In some Hawaiian families in Ka’u there was one person who was designated the Haka or the medium. That person was trained to channel the spirits of deceased family members and sometimes, the family gods. That’s what’s happening with Mr. Hoapili; because of the state he’s in he’s able to channel these things without a problem,”

Alison gasped, “So when I thought he was talking in his sleep, he was really channeling a family spirit?”

“Yes,” Tabby answered. “So when he began to speak in what all of you thought were strange voices, you all jumped the gun and assumed he was demonically possessed. He’s just trying to relay a message,”

“How did he suddenly get so strong just now?” Adam asked.

“Wouldn't you get pissed if you were trying to talk to your mom and your brother kept trying to hold you down? Same principal here,” Tabby replied.

“So, what do we do now?” Don asked.

“Listen,” Tabby replied

…

AFTER


Tabby rode her bike to Manoa park and found a bench where she could sit and gather her thoughts. She’d learned everything from her father but after his passing, she decided to study every book and every website and every document about exorcisms in every culture. It became her specialty, the thing she'd be known for. The thing that made her grow up quicker than she had to.

The park bench was still damp from the early morning rain but she didn’t care, she needed a moment to rest before exhaustion set in.

“I’ll find the person who did it, Papa, I’ll get revenge for you and Daniel, I will,” Tabby’s tears dropped on the wide blades of grass at her feet as the rains from Aihualama followed her sadness and covered her like a protective veil. It was almost as if she were being absolved of her worries for the day. She made no effort to move from the deluge but sat there in the empty park all by herself.

That moment was a reflection of her life in that she was always surrounded by so many great and unusual circumstances but in the end, she was always alone. Very much alone.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 48 Nights Left! "Tabby: Samson's Place"

Samson Mock Chew was a man who worked hard all of his life; normally he had only a second to talk with anyone and then it was back to work. This morning he sits in the musty storage room of his restaurant appearing as if he has a million and one thing on his plate. He perspires right through his clothing and it’s obvious he hasn’t had the chance to bathe.

“So what is the problem again Mr. Chew?” I asked.

“Everybody calls me Sammy, Sammy is okay. No worry about formality, I’m just regular guy,” he insisted.

“Okay, Sammy; so tell me what’s been happening?” I reformed the question to put him at ease.

“One month ago the ghost of one small Hawaiian girl come outside my restaurant exactly one thirteen in the afternoon every Tuesday! No miss! I think she used to go to Catholic school the way she dress!” Sammy wiped the sweat from his brow and shook his head. Strange coincidence or maybe not but this happens to be Tuesday and it’s one ‘o clock.

“What is she...what is the ghost doing outside your restaurant when it appears?” I eyed the wall clock that hung just above the door of the storage room now.

“That’s why so funny! She yells very old Chinese language, like a proclamation from Lao Tzu!”

Shaking his head again Sammy wiped his palms on his pants, it was obvious that he was very troubled by this experience.

“Lao Tzu huh?” I asked. “By proclamation, you mean like an official edict or royal command?”

“Yah! Like how in the movie!” He replied.

I had to pause for a moment and give some serious thought to what he just told me. I guess I must have been thinking for a bit too long because Sammy asked me if everything was okay?

“I’m sorry; so you’re saying that this is a ghost doing this outside of your restaurant?”

“Yes!” Sammy bellowed. “Crazy ghost! Chase away lunchtime customer!”

At that precise moment I glanced up at the clock again and it was exactly one fifteen in the afternoon. Suddenly, I could hear a big commotion in the restaurant, the waitresses were screaming and I could hear the cooks swearing up a storm. I ran outside and I could see that they, along with the lunch crowd were excitedly pointing toward the window at the front of the restaurant.

There she was just like Sammy said, right on time at exactly one fifteen in the afternoon. Just then my wife radioed in on my wireless earpiece.

“Is that the ghost of the girl that Sammy was talking about?” She asked. “In front of the restaurant?”

“That’s the one,” I replied.

“It’s broad daylight; how do you want to handle it?” My wife was always concerned that we never attract too much attention to these kinds of things, especially in public. The privacy and anonymity of our clients is always important.

“Let me head outside,” I said.

“10-4,” she replied.

I made my way through the hysterical crowd and pushed the front door open. Sammy’s little wraith that adversely affected his business was making quite the big scene. Except it wasn’t a wraith nor a ghost or spirit. It was Tabby Kahana performing an antiquated Chinese exorcism; talisman and all.

“Tabby?” I scolded her.

“Uncle Lopaka!” She said excitedly. “Are you trying to get rid of the ghost in this restaurant too?”

“No, I’m trying to help it pass peacefully,” I replied.

“What’s going on?” My wife clicked in.

“It’s Tabby,” I sighed.

“Oh geeze,” my wife sighed. “Send her home,”

“Is that Aunty Tanya?” Tabby squealed. “Hi Aunty!”

No wonder why Sammy said that the ghost of the small girl was dressed like she went to a Catholic school. Tabby was wearing her usual hello kitty shirt and plaid skirt with matching socks and shoes. Let’s not forget the Badtz Maru backpack.

“Go home Tabby, I got this one,” I demanded.

“Sorry Uncle, I’ve been on this job for the past month,” she smiled.

“Tabby, you’re doing an old Taoist/Confucian exorcism. This is not one of those old southern Chinese restaurants, it’s Hong Kong style,” I told her. “In the whole month you’ve been here has your ritual worked?”

“Well, not yet. The ghosts of a couple of cats left, but that’s it,” she said as she shrugged her shoulders.

“The owner died of a heart attack in the back storage room a month ago at one fifteen in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It happened so suddenly that he doesn’t know he’s dead; as far as he’s concerned YOU’RE the ghost, not him. Do you get it now?” I asked. “Besides, it’s a peak business hour.”

“I overreacted maybe?” She asked.

“Yes, and that’s a ghost in there, not a demon,” I smiled.

“I’m never wrong about these things Uncle, I was very certain,” she was very serious for an eleven-year-old girl, but she was the best at what she did. She reached up and gave me a hug and turned to leave.

“Come over for dinner some time okay?” I said.

“Okay, love you uncle,” she said as she waved good-bye.

“You have to stop inviting people over for dinner,” my wife radioed in.

“Why?” I asked.

“Cause I’m the one that always ends up cooking!” She scolded me.

….


Samson Mock Chew was still seated in the storage room with a look of worry and exhaustion on his face.

“It’s all taken care of Sammy, the ghost is gone. It won’t come back anymore,” I told him.

“Oh good, good. Now I don’t have to worry about my customer,” he said. “Thank you so much for your help! When you go outside, go see my wife, tell her no charge you for lunch!”

“Sure thing Sammy, thank you. You can finally rest now, you have nothing to worry about. You’re wife and sons are doing a great job out there. Go rest Samson Mock Chew.” I smiled.

…

Even though they are no longer of the flesh, ghosts are still human beings but on a different level. The emotions and worries, the grief and sorrow, the love and happiness; they’re all the same. It’s normally those things that keep them here with us, the living. The one thing that never gets old is the moment that they know it’s time to go; the tingle in the air, the smell of the atmosphere and the occasional lingering aroma of sweet-scented flowers, candies, perfumes, and freshly baked bread never gets old. As Samson Mock Chew’s apparition now becomes particles of energy and light, the smell of Chinese jasmine fills the musty storage room,

for a brief second. I am filled with a humble appreciation for life and all the people who make it wonderful.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 49 Nights Left! "Tabby"

It was a shock to see the eleven-year-old girl at their front door sitting on a hello kitty bicycle. She wore pigtails in her hair and sported a heavily glittered hello kitty t-shirt with a matching plaid skirt, shoes and socks. The only thing that threw off the ensemble was the Badtz Maru backpack, it was strangely out of place in contrast to the other bright colors.

“I’m Tabby Kahana,” the little girl introduced herself as she put out her kickstand and got off her bike.

“I’m Mark,” the husband replied. “This is my wife, Kendra, thanks for coming on such short notice,”

“Show me to the room please, we don’t have much time,” Tabby said.

Mark and Kendra led the girl up the carpeted stairs and took a right turn down a long carpeted hallway that led to a large master bedroom. In the middle of the room was a large cage with a Labrador retriever sitting in it.

Kendra suddenly became overwhelmed and buried her face in her husband’s shirt.

“You can see how this has upset us, we love Kolea so much. We can’t have kids so Kolea is our baby it’s tough to see her this way,” Mark said as he fought to control his emotions. “We think it’s an Inu-Gami, a Japanese dog demon,”

“That would explain why Kolea suddenly changed and became vicious,” Kendra said. “Please help him, he’s our baby,”

“You know the ritual for getting rid of an Inu-Gami right? I mean, that’s why you came so highly recommended,” Mark said.

In one swift motion, Tabby zipped open the top of her Batdz Maru backpack and reached inside and removed two small items. It happened so quickly that the couple didn’t realize what was actually going on,

“Exocrzimus you omnis immudus,” Tabby held a rosary wrapped around her right hand, in her left she held a large vile of holy water while she prayed in Latin.

“NO!” The couple screamed at the top of their lungs, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Omnis Satanica Potestas,” she continued.

“NO!” Mark screamed. “WE ASKED FOR THE INU-GAMI RITUAL!”

“Omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii,” she concluded.

Mark and Kendra fell to the floor; their bodies convulsed and contorted in grotesque positions before a tremendous wind swept through the room. It formed a cyclone above the couple and slowly spun around their bodies and then lifted to the ceiling where it disappeared altogether.

Mark and Kendra were disoriented for a second before they began to have the dry heaves. Tabby removed two bottles of water from the side pocket of her backpack and splashed it all over the couple before she offered it to them to drink.

“Sorry, just had to be sure. You never know,”

“What happened?” Mark asked.

“When you called me you said that your Lab was acting strangely but you never said how. When I get here I find it unusual that the two of you are suddenly certain that an Inu-Gami is possessing your dog? These things are sent as curses to harm human beings, not other animals. That’s when I knew it was the two of you who were possessed, not your pet,” Tabby said.

“We don’t know how to thank you,” Mark began. “Can we give you some money or if you wanna stay for lunch...”

“Nah,” Tabby smiled. “I’m good. I gotta get going, you guys take care,”

…..........

Tabby rode her bicycle toward the end of the block and let the scenario play itself out in her mind again. Everything pointed to the situation being a trap; but how? And by whom?