The Culmination

I've never seen physical damage like that. I don't know or understand how anyone could commit such an atrocity.  There is death, there is murder and there is slaughter. I can't think of what to call what I saw because it was beyond slaughter. What is worse is that death did not come before the desecration of the body so everything was felt. That is what they said in the medical reports that they read to my family.

I know it to be true. Furthermore, I remember it.  Now I am stuck in between... Heaven and Hell? I guess so. I can assure you that where I came from that dark morning was Hell, so I am hoping that my next stop is somewhere a little nicer. I was kidnapped. I was tortured; my body mauled and dumped. I died and now I wander. The papers stopped writing about the Rothchilds girl that was killed while taking an early morning run and I was forgotten. I see by the calendar I've been dead for fifteen years. Let's see, unless they have changed the way you do math I would be thirty-seven. Hmph I feel like a dog food commercial. "And just how many years IS it in ghost years..."  I wanted him to be caught. I wanted him to suffer as I had, but he wasn't and he didn't. It has made even THIS existence horrible. I never got to leave him and am still trapped here somehow.  There are those who believe after such a trauma, the soul or spirit is always tied to a thing or place where the tragedy occurred.  Not true.  SOMETIMES you are tied to the PERSON who caused it.  I have had to watch him gloat and keep a scrap book.  He kept things of mine: my ring, my barrette my underwear. He still sifts through them, enjoys them.  There are pictures of my body that he looks at; fondly. He touches them gently as if he misses me.  Sadly, I have also had to watch him scour the city for other young, naive victims much like myself and believe there are others here with me but we can't see each other.

I've worked hard with a single goal in my mind. For too long I have played the residual haunt; but no longer.  It's time for his payback.  I will do what it takes to get him to notice me for a second time. Ha! Do I sound like a jealous, jilted lover?  I have thought this out and no matter the consequences or Who I must answer to in the End, it will be worth it.

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Dear Diary, Dear God, Dear Anyone who reads this,

I have lived here in this town of Waunakee for over seventeen years. I am a dedicated professor of the University, valued and trusted member of the Grace Church. I am a widower with no children. If you are reading this I am dead. 

There is a curse on this house; both it and I are haunted.   It began more than a decade ago, but within the last several weeks and with each day, my end grows near. I can feel it. There is evil here. Malevolence.

I have heard the bumps and groans of this house and accepted the little games of hide and seek with my things from keys to papers I've needed to turn over. I confess I am still searching for one of my work boots and my favorite golf club. I don't know much about the paranormal, having studied it little; without much interest or solution.  I have researched the history of this area since; anymore, I am afraid to sleep. There is nothing here to indicate a reason for such terror. Smudging has failed, blessings did not work, psychics are charlatans. I am alone with this darkness.
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It is at night that the most vicious attacks come. In my sleep, I am plagued by the sensation of being watched.  I often have the heavy, dreadful feeling that someone is near, hovering and wishes to do harm; great harm. 

It is this fear that has caused me to reflect on some of the choices I have made during my stay here.  I have cherished the memories of my youth and earlier life, looked at old photos and mementos.  I admit to you that I have not always lived the Waukanee way: "fair and pleasant", but I had my reasons and have done what was necessary to fulfill my needs.

In these last couple of nights, I have had to share my bed, and not with anyone desirable.  I have the sensation of it beginning at the foot; a leaning, only to feel the pressure as it crawls up onto the blankets. It has four legs I think because there are two pressure points  on each side; as if it is straddling my body, pinning me under the covers.  It keeps close to me and slowly makes its way up to my face.  By now,as would you, I am frozen with fear, unable to move.  I've never known such terror.  I feel a warmth on my face, like a breath and at times I think I hear it speak to me; such horrible things I think it mutters. It has even covered my nose and mouth, though not for long. It is as if it's playing, toying with me; this monster. When it finally lets me go I can only gulp at the air, grateful for the flood into my lungs and heart.  I cough and sputter but am still unable to move.  

I am helpless, defenseless.

If you are reading this, consider it my last will and testament. Please save this town and anyone unfortunate enough to love this place as I have.  There are secrets here; dangerous and dark.  This place needs to be destroyed to stop anyone else from living this nightmare.

Burn it to the ground.

Save the souls of the unknowing and naive.

 Prof. Paul Kinyard, LL.D, EdD,


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"What do you think Chief?" the deputy asked, pushing back his hat and scratching his forehead, the letter he replaced neatly on the nightstand.

The man stood tall and silent, staring out the window stroking his chin with his weathered hand.  The body of the professor lay perfectly straight, tucked neatly in his bed, covered to his chin.  The petechiae in his eyes, proved choking as did the awful dark band across his neck that had crushed his hyoid bone and choked him. It was not self- induced.  There were no signs of struggle, no signs of forced entry. No footprints or blood spatter; just a dead man. 

Chief Rothchilds moved to the window and looked out on the jogging path; thoughtfully Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a stick in the corner; no it was a single hybrid golf  club. He returned his gaze to the window and sighed.

"Chief...you better come over here..." one of the other officers said quietly.

He turned away from the memories and walked down the hall to a back closet.  In it was a pulled away panel revealing a dark small storage space containing a work boot and a box; filled with pictures and things. He tugged it out and began to look through them with his gloves pausing only briefly with recognition at a photograph...

"We have a problem here." he said at last. "We need to bag all of this and reopen the University Killings.

"Sir..."

"Do it. And send these to the office, tag these over here for the lab, get the Geek squad and the body snatchers here."

He had begun to sweat and felt weak inside.  He could barely stand and hardly heard them when they asked if he was all right.  He left and they all understood why after seeing the box.

He drove and thought.  At last he went home and got what he needed returning to the crime scene.  No one would bother to ask if they had seen him.

He sat on the floor and put the board out.  The planchette rested quietly for a long time as he debated to begin. At last, he did.  He asked if she was there.  The reply was yes.  He asked if she had done this.  The reply was yes.  Through tears he asked if she was angry with him for failing to bring the man who killed her to justice.  The reply was no.

He asked if she was sorry.

There was nothing.

He left his sister to what he hoped was peace. There were seven other ghosts released as the box was emptied and the stories were told at last. The brother of the murdered girl hoped the only thing burning, was the soul of her killer.  He was not sorry either.



Okay,
So I know that one is crazy but I really thing it's cool. I know it's quick n a little dirty, but I loved researching this one and playing with it.  I wanted it to be general, make you think; even go back and reread to be sure you had it right. so I guess in my mind, this is my abstract piece.  I hope you liked it or enjoyed its different style.

Happy Mother's Day. I hope you spoiled someone rotten today. I enjoyed my favorite people today and laughed a lot. You know how I love to laugh.

I hope to see you soon and as always, thanks for stopping by to see me. I enjoy your company.

Hey Guys
I've had a really long week and am just too pooped to pop. I have one started but it will take me a little time to get it posted.  I hope your weekends went well.  Mine did.

My daughter had her first of two proms.  She had her senior/spring concert where she had a duet with one of her best friends.  She had her driving classes this weekend.

My son? He had a date and we all got to meet his girlfriend.

They say it all goes too quickly.

I say don't blink.

Be careful out there. I hear there is a Monday lurking near by.