It's 12:35 in the afternoon. The end is near, any minute now to be frank. It's because time is short that I'll get to the point. I'll say this, the first thing is my name is Deone and paranormal investigations is my thing, it had been for a while. Everybody knows that after you do things for a certain amount of time you begin to think you're an expert on the subject.
That's what happened to me. I'll tell you from my own experience that the main focus is not so much capturing ghosts on film but its really about the tech. By tech, I mean all the latest tech in the industry. Cameras, meters, voice recorders, spirit boxes; all that stuff. The only thing that really concerns people in this field whether anyone ever openly admits it or not is that everyone wants to be THE first to capture a full form walking and talking ghost. Not just a blurry shot from a distance or something that is really pareidolia or a reflection of a car headlight moving across a hallway in some abandoned building, but a dyed in the wool ghost. We, myself included, get caught up in finding this grail of the paranormal that we unknowingly overlook one thing.
The actual haunted location.
The house was smack dab in the middle of Kaka'ako right next to a delivery truck warehouse. If you didn't slow down as you passed it, you'd miss it entirely without ever knowing that you actually saw it. When I met the former residents of that place, they began to explain what was going on. Me, in my foolish all-knowingness, brushed them off and ignored them. After all, I'm the paranormal investigator, these are just people who live in the house who don't have a full handle on what's going on. But, they did, and they tried to tell me. They tried to tell me that the problem was the house itself. They tried to tell me that my team and I shouldn't touch anything. I thought they meant was that we shouldn't touch anything in their large china cabinet or their knick-knacks. What they really meant was that we shouldn't touch any part of the house. Not the walls, not the floors, not the ceiling, not the railing leading up to the second floor. They told us that we should keep our shoes on and they even handed us a box of rubber gloves to wear. I ignored all of that and pushed them out the door and gave them $200 to go eat at a restaurant somewhere until I called them back.
The investigation yielded nothing.
But for the five hours that we were there, a lot of my teams mates ended up sitting on the bare kitchen floor or sitting up against a wall upstairs or leaning their hands up against an old cabinet door. Myself, because my knees are bad, with my bare hand I used the hand railing while going up the stairs to the second floor. Soon as I reached the top step, I tripped and stumbled. I smashed my face on the hardwood and lay there writhing in pain. One of the guys heard me from downstairs and came running. He helped me up to my feet and walked me to the opposite wall where he propped me up.
"You good?" He asked. "You need me to stay with you?"
"I'm good," I replied. "You go do your thing."
He disappeared back down the stairs while I sat there on the bare floor with my back propped up against the bare wall. Like I said, the investigation yielded nothing, so we packed it up and called it a night. We were in our vehicles and gone by the time I texted the family and gave them the all-clear. A couple days later, the owner of the house called me on the phone. There was still fear in his voice, "Everything in my house has stopped, no more ghosts or anything moving around or harassing us in our sleep."
"That's good to hear, but it doesn't sound like you're convinced?" I was curious now.
"Oh it' good for us yes, but not good for you," He replied.
"What do you mean?" I couldn't help but inquire.
"You and your team, you touched the house. I know you did because it's gone now, that means it's with you guys." His voice was shaky and its intonation was like that of a kabuki theater performer.
"Whatever," I moaned back at him.
"I'll pray for you," he said. "We all will."
I hung up after that. What a crackpot, no wonder we didn't find anything.
...................
It wasn't too long after that when I received a call for another investigation. It was a business office right off of south king street. It was hidden behind a few large Pak-Lan trees across the street from Washington Intermediate. I knew where the office building was but not one team member answered their phone. That was strange. Even though some of them couldn't make it because of work or family obligations, at least two others were always available.
Today, no one.
It was like that for almost a month, none of them communicated back. Even when I showed up at their homes, their wives or parents would say they were out or at work. I wouldn't comprehend the full magnitude of the situation until I showed up at Tan Ngyuen's house. Right on the large porch at the front door of his home, a large crowd of people spilled out from within the living room. There was a lot of screaming from the people and from a Catholic priest. He wore his vestment and in one hand he held a bible and in the other a crucifix. He shouted words in Latin and it was only then that I saw Tan. He was deathly pale, his hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes were wide and almost jaundiced with dark circles around it. Tan screamed in a voice that was not his own. It was high and shrill like that of a woman. My god, he was possessed!
Tan's father saw me first and he ran over to me, not to greet me or to explain what was going on, but to punch me in my face. Tan's mother was close behind and she began to punch and kick me. The rest of Tan's family followed behind them. I was being mobbed and beaten. Tan's parent's screamed that it was my fault, I was the one who convinced Tan to go hunt ghosts and now a ghost has possessed his body. I could see Tan standing there, the priest had become exhausted from the rites of exorcism and Tan no longer resisted. He just stood there smiling at me through his yellowed teeth.
"Shouldn't have touched the house," Tan giggled. "You think you know everything, but they told you not to touch the house. Now you know why....or if you don't......you will."
.................................
So, the end is near now. I can feel it starting to take over. As my team members showed symptoms, so did I. Predicting future events, knowing things I shouldn't be able to know, speaking in foreign languages that I shouldn't know but I do. Certainly, the feeling of being lost, of falling down a well while someone takes over my body.
Possession.
These are my last words before I go under. Caution, use rubber gloves and a hazmat suit. It's that serious.
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