The After Life: A Ghost Adventures FanFic

Chapter Two: Present Day

The year is 2011. I’ve accepted the fact that I am dead. The house is now known as the ‘Jones- Mile Murder- Suicide House’. The house made big news in the time period that it happened. It took about ten years to close the case. At first, the police weren’t exactly sure as to who murdered who, and why. Finally, somebody came through, and it was Jimmie’s best friend. He was with Jimmie at work, and said he and Jimmie had been drinking all day. They closed the case as a murder-suicide, with Emily Jones (me) as the murder victim, and Jimmie Mile as the suicide victim. Nobody was sent to prison, or charged with anything because of the events.

The house is now popular with paranormal crews. The house is unlocked during the day so people can visit, and at night, you can set up an appointment to do a ghost walk.

My spirit has been labeled as an ‘intelligent’ ghost, whereas Jimmie’s has been labeled as ‘residual’.

I always make sure I give the paranormal investigators some evidence. It’s my trademark to sit in the windowsill at exactly 9:27; the time at which Jimmie murdered me. When there is a pregnant lady walking through the house, I get really jealous, and I tend to be mean to her.

There was a time when I showed my face to a pregnant woman as she was walking into the bathroom, and she fainted, in the exact position that I died in.

Another time, a pregnant lady was sitting in the chair that Jimmie was, before he killed himself, and I tipped her chair over, causing her to spill onto the floor. My laugh was then caught on a voice recorder, which is now on display in the house.

There are also pictures on display of me when I was living, my old nursing hat from the war, Jimmie’s medals from the war; the knife Jimmie killed us with, and my engagement ring. Personally, my favorite item on display is a picture somebody took of me last year, sitting in the windowsill. I’m staring directly at the camera, in my bloody dress.

Oh yeah; my bloody dress is on display too. I like that, too.

Jimmie’s spirit never talks like I do; he just makes orbs and knocks on the hallway walls.

On the other hand, I talk to people all the time. I walk all over the house, and I do more than knock on walls. I say whole sentences, I show myself to the paranormal investigators, and I pound, slap, knock, and kick the walls. Every time a pregnant lady gets too far into the bathroom, I make sure I lay down on the floor where I died, and show myself to her. The common reaction is to scream, and run out of the house.

I picked up on a new skill in the past ten years; forcing my emotion onto someone else. It’s another one of my trademarks that when somebody is sitting in the bathroom with the lights off, I force the pain of stab wounds onto that person. The reaction is priceless. They moan in pain, then leave.

I like scaring people. Can you tell? It’s me getting my revenge on Jimmie. Since I can’t take my anger out on Jimmie; I take it out on everybody else. This is the highlight of my day. Every day, all day. I would say that I don’t have a life, but I’m dead.

Okay, so enough with me telling you about what’s been going on lately… Let’s get into what is happening at this very moment.

“And this is the kitchen, where Jimmie Mile confronted Emily Jones on the night of the murder-suicide. And as you can see, the very knife that was used is sitting in this air-tight, sealed, glass box. With Emily and Jimmie’s blood still on the blade.” The tour guide was saying to a couple. I looked up from my seat at the table. The group of three continued to move through the house, and I decided to follow. They walked into the living room.

“In this photograph is Emily Jones on her 31st birthday. Standing next to her is Jimmie. Ironically, she is wearing the same dress that we will get to see in a moment.” He said. I couldn’t remember what the tour guide’s name was so I walked right in front of him to read his name tag. It read ‘Jackson’. At that moment, Jackson took a step forward, and walked right through me. He shivered, and his teeth chattered.

“Do you feel that?” He said. The other male in the group nodded, but the female shook her head. I shook my head, and made a mental note to give her a little something later.

“On we go then… Now, here, we have the engagement ring that Jimmie Mile gave Emily Jones. This ring was pulled off of her finger after her death. A little known fact: Emily’s mother found the couple dead three days later because she didn’t hear from Emily, so she drove over to her house, and found them both dead.” Jackson said. Ugh… I hate hearing about how my poor mother had to find me dead.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, here we have the very dress Emily wore when she was stabbed. The coroner found eight stab wounds on her body. How sad.” Jackson said to the couple, who nodded.

Nine times. I thought to myself. I’ve said to four different people that I had been stabbed nine times, but nobody ever heard me.

Time to change that. I thought again. I decided to kill two birds with one stone, so I began to use the female's energy to yell at the tour guide. I watched as she rubbed her forehead, eyes, and cheeks to keep herself awake. The whole time I could feel myself growing stronger. I positioned myself in front of the tour guide. When I saw him gasp I knew that he could see me. I smiled.

“I was stabbed nine times, not eight. You have the facts wrong.” I said, and then I disappeared from his sight. I watched as he paled; a look that clearly said ‘I just saw a ghost’.

“O… Kay E-Emily.” Jackson stammered. I laughed in the female’s ear. She shuddered.

“Someone just breathed in my ear!” She screeched.

“Ah, that would be Emily.” The house owner said, walking into the room. I don’t like him, so I went up to him, and growled at him. He smiled. “She always greets me with a growl. Don’t you Emily?”

I snarled in response.