2. Githany #2
I know that look. It’s the face of someone who suddenly sees a puzzle piece clicking into place and feels foolish for not figuring it out themselves.
She’s not alone. Those who aren’t accustomed to the supernatural often look for other, more rational explanations.
The lights are flickering? Must be a power issue.
It feels like someone is watching you? You’re just tired and paranoid.
Every single cabinet door is wide open when you walk in the kitchen?
You must have forgotten to close them all.
We protect ourselves by rationalizing. Humans aren’t inherently good at asking for help or admitting things are beyond their control.
The doll is old. Old, old. Obsessions with dolls baffle me.
You’d think even without a smidgen of psychic abilities you’d still recognize a creepy doll when you saw one.
So many people are oblivious. They find the painted faces, glass eyes, and bonnet-covered shiny ringlets endearing.
Dolls have a way of trapping energy. Anything that is loved unconditionally or hated fiercely has the potential to trap the dark and unwanted.
Rule of thumb—any dolls, pianos, mirrors, wedding dresses, or hairbrushes you find at the antique store should stay at the antique store.
This doll’s energy is definitely malicious. It’s dark, but not completely rooted to the home. What they need is a plan involving a proper cleansing and a permanent removal.
“I would like for you to pack your bags and drive to a hotel on the beach. Tonight. You could all use some sun and fresh air. Edwin and his team will remove the doll from the premises and reset the energy of the house. When you return after the weekend, cleanse your home with sage twice a day for the next four weeks. I’d also like for you to arrange a few energy-healing sessions for Eliana.
It will help her to leave all of this behind.
I know a healer who is very good with children. ”
The mom’s tears flow freely. Relief, I suppose. “Thank you.”
I nod to her in earnest. “You’ll be alright.”
Edwin guards the room while the family packs.
He’s become quite good at removing haunted objects and ancient relics.
He’s unafraid of their energy, which means nothing ever sticks to him.
It’s a rarity to find such fearlessness in people who aren’t mediums like myself.
Edwin’s a treasure. He was meant to do this kind of work.
The family doesn’t fight me. The closest North Carolina beach is about two and a half hours away. I step out onto the front porch and stay until their minivan backs out of the driveway.
“You’ll take care of the doll?”
Edwin nods. “Thank you,” he says to me. “You’re a very special soul.”
“I see dead people, Edwin. I’m a freak.”
He takes my hand. I resist the urge to pull away. I’m not a toucher.
“Githany. You helped those people in a way no one else could.”
It’s not easy for me to accept compliments. “I’m sure someone else could have done it if they had to. I’m just the only medium you have on speed-dial.”
He smirks. “Your pessimistic attitude doesn’t fool me. You like helping people. Even if you won’t admit it.”
Randall steps out onto the porch, lighting a cigarette. “Did you ask her about tomorrow?”
My suspicion piques. “Is that why you’re buttering me up? You need another favor?”
“I meant everything I said.”
“But?” I prod.
Edwin scratches beneath the edge of his fedora. “Have you heard of Reaper’s Playroom?”
“Of course I have. Haunted-house attraction. You have to sign an NDA and consent form before entering. Practically give up your firstborn child to go through. It’s probably run by a bunch of dudes who get off on torturing people.”
“We think there might be more to it,” Randall suggests. “Some things have been coming out recently. Vic found a support group for people who have gone and ended up with serious trauma.”
Vic nods, dropping her headphones around her neck. “Numerous people have been institutionalized after going through that haunted house. On top of that, there have been a number of horrific injuries. Limbs torn off, permanent heart conditions. Death.”
How very dramatic. “So the people are really good at their jobs and everyone who goes through is dumb enough to fall into their trap.”
“It’s more than that. Come on,” Randall pushes. “Do that thing and feel it out.”
“I’m tired, guys.” My head is throbbing. Maybe the red wine, maybe the undead energy.
“Just try.” Randall faces his phone toward me. Reaper’s Playroom looks like any other Halloween attraction. Some rundown warehouse. The entrance itself is the face of a green, pointy-horned demon, the doorway a gaping, sharp-toothed mouth.
“Oooh, scary,” I mock.
The hokeyness gives way to something, granting me a brief flash of darkness and a set of very real teeth. The more I look at it, the more an energy field reveals itself. Dark, swirling light surrounding the building.
“I knew it!” Randall boasts. “Look at her face. It is haunted.”
I shake my head. “We don’t know anything for certain.”
“It closes for the season after Halloween. Tomorrow is our last chance until next year to investigate. It’s only an hour away.”
My instincts sharpen. If that place is as fucked up as I’ve heard, then this is going to be a younger man’s game.
“You’re not going.” I turn to Edwin. “That’s the deal. At your age, going through a building full of jump-scares and psychopaths would be ill-advised. You stay behind. That’s the only way I’ll go.”
Edwin’s face drops. I’ve wounded his pride and reminded him of his mortality. There aren’t many people I keep close. The evidence that anyone close to me ends up six feet under is too strong to ignore. I’ve often thought that if I could be close to someone, it would be Edwin.
“Deal!” Randall’s voice brims with excitement. Vic pumps her fist in the air. My gaze is still pinned to Edwin. He sighs, but agrees.
My plans for a quiet Halloween night in go up in smoke. It looks like I’ll be spending All Hallows’ Eve in the gaping jaws of Reaper’s Playroom.
Why does this feel like such a bad idea?