Prologue
Plates shatter against the wall next to his head, causing the man in the fedora, Larson, to move his head to the side to avoid getting hit. Adjusting his fedora, he raises his voice over the sounds of exploding items so the spirit of an angry neighbor can hear him. The neighbor hated the family of three from the moment they first moved into the house, even though the parents and their little girl were nothing but nice to him. He was a bitter man in life and his spirit was no better.
Words of inspiration spill out of Larson’s mouth and push the spirit back toward a bright light behind it. The spirit yells, spitting out its words at the paranormal investigator, “I will not go to the light, human. I will stay here and make this family suffer.” The spirit curses the man and continues to throw things, but it grows weaker with each word.
Larson’s dark forest green, and electric blue eyes stare at the ghost while he walks forward. The man’s trench coat brushes the ground as his polished shoes tap on the tile floor. He jerks his head, but the plate thrown at him catches his cheek, pain throbbing through his face. That’ll bruise.
“The world is a beautiful place where the light shines on the living. You, my friend, are sadly not living, but there is another light that shines for you. Go into the light and leave this family alone. Their daughter, Mary, has been nice to you, giving you flowers whenever she can. The parents tried to help you on more than one occasion. Why do you want to cause them so much harm?” he asks. Larson picks up a picture of the family, turning it toward the spirit. A tall handsome man with sharp hazel eyes stares at the spirit, smiling, along with his red-headed, green-eyed wife and daughter. “They only wanted to be friends with you.”
“They… they…” The spirit stops, looking confused. Why was he trying to make their lives miserable? He shakes his head, his anger flaring back up inside of him. He doesn’t understand why he hates them, since his mind is clouded. He shakes his head and slaps the frame out of Larson’s hand. The glass shatters once it hits the ground.
The spirit makes one last attempt to escape the paranormal investigator, but the words are too strong. The spirit collapses back into the light and vanishes. The house feels warm and inviting, the chill the spirit brought with him disappearing. Larson looks around at the broken plates, shattered TV, and food from the fridge slopped all over the furniture and floor. He sighs and grabs some trash bags from his bag he brought with him before he cleans up. Once it’s clean, he pulls his phone from his pocket.
“Hello, Mr. Simpson? This is Larson Pagan. Your house is free from the angry spirit.” He smiles and nods. “Yes, you and your family are safe to come home tomorrow. I’ll stay the night and catch the bus in the morning.” He listens and chuckles. “It was my pleasure to help you and your family. Have a wonderful night.”
Larson hangs up and glances around one last time to make sure he hasn’t missed anything before he retreats to the back bedroom. He’s happy he could help, but soon he can go home and sleep in his own bed. He packs his things, places the bags by the front door, and heads back to the room. Crawling into bed, he falls into a deep sleep.
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Backlash: Gordon, Lacey Crazd: 9798300016333: Amazon.com: Books
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