Uncle Jack woke me up just before we reached the city to give me a pep talk that was clearly more for himself than it was for me. "...make sure it says it's name so you can cast it out easily...don't let it hide from you...if you need me I'll be behind you the entire time..."
I had learned to tune him out by this point in my career. I knew more than him, and really didn't need him there to help me. He was just my ride to and from the job. Besides, he was normally in the way more than anything else. The first and last time Uncle Jack tried to communicate with a spirit, a stuffed monkey was tossed at his face, and he fainted out of fear. The spirit and I had a good laugh.
The SUV wheeled into the driveway of a small bungalow just inside the outskirts of the city. To the untrained eye, it blended in with the rest of the cookie cutter houses in the neighborhood, but I immediately felt a strong negative energy overwhelm my senses as soon as I saw it. "Oh no..." I mouthed. Whatever was in there surely felt different from what I usually faced. It was old and powerful, and sent shivers down my spine. Maybe I was about to bite off more than I could chew? Maybe I was dealing with my first poltergeist? I had read all about them but luckily never encountered the dangerous and vengeful spirits. I peered over to my uncle, but he didn't betray any fear. He was nervous, but he didn't have the same senses I did.
The closer I got to the front door, the harder it was for me to breathe. Whatever was in there knew I had arrived, and it was ready for me. It was as if the air had turned into syrup. My uncle knocked seven times on the door, an old habit of his because he believed seven was a pure number that could ward off evil spirits. If an invisible force could laugh, this one certainly would've. I could feel its amusement at this silly gesture.
A click, and then the wooden door swung in, revealing a wrinkly old lady. The bags under her deep set hazel eyes revealed her apparent lack of sleep. "Thank you for coming, sir." She nodded to my uncle.
"Hello Ms. Schmit, my name is Calumn. This is my niece Andrea. We are here to help." Uncle Jack shook her outstretched hand and followed her inside. We used fake names because my uncle was paranoid that a ghost would get it's hands on a computer and try to find us.
As soon as I stepped over the threshold, something roared silently. I would've been thrown back, had I not expected this surge of energy and blocked it from my mind. Instead, it passed over me and soared out the door.
Uncle Jack immediately began burning herbs in the four corners of the house to purify it. This was futile to me, but I think it made him feel as though he was doing something right for once. He then drew a circle in the living room with salt and invited Ms. Schmit to stand within it. "Now that we've done the basics for safety, please tell us your story."
Ms. Schmit began a long account of her experiences: slamming doors, odd sounds, voices, shadows, mysterious people who disappear in seconds, hands grabbing her, and a knife hurling itself at her wall moments before we arrived. Some of these were typical of a haunting, but some a little more violent than I had hoped for.
"Sounds like a real problem you have here," Uncle Jack said obviously.
"Do you think you can help me?" Ms. Schmit wiped at an invisible tear. "It's been dreadful, having to live like this."
"Of course. I know exactly what to do. You see, we are very sensitive to the supernatural world. My niece here has cast over thirty spirits from houses in the past year alone. We'd be happy to help. Isn't that right, Andrea?" Uncle Jack raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for me to back him up.
I was already fighting something I had become unaccustomed to lately--fear. But I nodded. "I think I know exactly what to do." This was a fat lie, because I had literally no idea what was in the house. "Where have these phenomenons been the most prevalent?" I had asked this question hundreds of times before, but this time I really didn't need an answer. I could feel it myself.
