Dark Blue

By Elliott Motl

Ryland Ferris is a well-known television ghost hunter. When the cameras are off he’s a psychic medium able to see and hear the very ghosts he investigates. The living and the dead fight for his attention and help. Both collide when Ryland’s latest investigation brings him back to his hometown in Rhode Island. Old rivals and estranged family members plead for the medium to stop a sinister, looming presence.
An ancient spirit oppresses the town and sinks its claws into the people Ryland cares for most. He soon realizes the dead are controlling the living. The masked spirit has an agenda. It isn’t looking for absolution. It isn’t preparing for damnation. The spirit plans on living again and Ryland Ferris is its only way back to life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664144545

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Copyright © 2020 by Elliott Motl.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/24/2020

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CONTENTS

Prologue :The Ghost of Miles Page

Chapter 1    The Lost Boys Saloon Ghost

Chapter 2    A Father’s Ghost

Chapter 3    Messages on the Mirror

Chapter 4    The Unfinished Business of Honey Roman

Chapter 5    Haunting Memories

Chapter 6    The Imprint of Rose Thornton

Chapter 7    The Dead Remember

Chapter 8    The Black Fog

Chapter 9    The Office of Memphis Diewood

Chapter 10    The Lost Children of Richfield

Chapter 11    The Lonely Spirit of Dr. Goodwin

Chapter 12    The Ghost in the Mirror

Chapter 13    Blackburn Island

Chapter 14    Escape from Blackburn

Chapter 15    The Dark Spirit of Catalina Buxones

Chapter 16    The Oppressive Spirit

Chapter 17    The Secrets of Evermore

Chapter 18    The Identity of the Rising Son

Chapter 19    The Life of Wyatt Eastman

Chapter 20    The Haunting of St. Vincent School

Chapter 21    The Unmarked Graves

Chapter 22    The Black Halo

Chapter 23    The Ritual of the Rising Son

Chapter 24    Tethers

Epilogue:The Spirit of Christmas Eve

Prologue

The Ghost of Miles Page

Twelve-year-old Ryland Ferris sat on the grass of his middle-school courtyard, waiting for the buses to arrive. He planted himself on the freshly cut lawn where dozens of students gathered and waited for their rides. Ryland knew the buses wouldn’t be pulling up for another half an hour. He waited with a book in his lap. His eyes barely skimmed over the words, thanks to his inability to focus from the noise around him.

Ryland let his long, blond bangs drape over his face like a veil hiding him from all the other eyes in the courtyard. He didn’t want attention of any kind, because attention for him meant relentless bullying. He wasn’t a social creature nor was he someone people bothered to get to know. No one respected the quiet kid who carried around the thickest books about ghostly tales and who seemed to check out of almost every conversation he ever had. Most of his peers didn’t even know his real name. Most just called him Blackout.

The hot air of a thriving spring was coming in from the north. It pushed the loud voices and sounds of shuffling feet all in Ryland’s direction. He tried to drown out the noise of screaming students and focus on his book, but the screeches became louder and more aggressive. Students were anxious for the school year to end. It was only a matter of weeks with the countdown becoming unbearable. Students grew more restless by the day just as their voices grew louder by the minute.

Ryland made the mistake of looking up to see where the loudest screams were coming from. He peaked beyond his bangs to see a group of boys tussling and teasing one another across the grass. In the center of it all was Miles Page, a student Ryland only knew by name and reputation. Everyone talked about Miles. They all had a story about something funny or clever he once said. Miles was as likable as he was charming, even at such a young age. He seemed to be friendly to everyone—even if the people he surrounded himself with were all but reputable themselves.

Near Miles were his best friends Chase and Ben. Ryland recalled a particular moment after Christmas break where Chase picked up his slimy cafeteria food and threw it at his head. He remembered Ben’s laughter filling the cafeteria—him being the only one laughing amongst the hundreds of other students who witnessed the event. Everyone else looked mortified. Ryland was happy to know both boys got a week’s worth of detention for it and also spent their weekends cleaning the cafeteria floors for the rest of that month.

Ryland lowered his eyes once more and settled in to finish the rest of the chapter he was currently on. In that time, he missed Miles, Chase, and Ben tossing each other’s backpacks across the courtyard to make one another run after them. Chase tossed Miles’s bag far across the grass and onto the boulevard. The bag happened to roll and land on the street beyond the curb. Laughing and snickering menacingly, knowing Miles’s phone was in the bag and could easily be broken now, Ben and Chase watched as their friend ran to recover it.

Miles came to his bag and lifted it off the cement. He threw the strap over his shoulder only to hear the loud screeching tires of a car trying to stop. Miles looked left to see the vehicle going from a speeding entrance to a sliding halt. Before it could stop completely, the twelve-year-old boy was struck, thrown onto the hood, then tossed back to the ground in an unconscious state.

The students in the courtyard looked up and gasped as their kind and friendly peer was struck near lifeless before their very eyes. Everyone ran to his aid, or at least to see the damage up close, while many pulled out their phones to either call for help or take pictures. Even Ryland stood up with his mouth agape and his book falling to the ground. He looked beyond the crowd to see the car ahead, the driver exiting, and one teacher demanding space so he could assess the situation.

The students and drivers around the scene saw Miles unconscious and immobile on the ground. Ryland, however, saw the friendly teenager unharmed, untouched, and standing before the crowd with a look of concern. He saw a version of Miles Page no one else could. He saw his spirit, the soul of his peer as it was ejected from his body by the tragic incident.

Miles looked at the crowd with confusion and helplessness. He saw his body on the pavement beneath his feet. People all stared at it like they were both fascinated and horrified. No one bothered to look up at him and see the spirit he had become. Miles skimmed the many faces trying to find anyone who would acknowledge his presence. He needed someone, anyone, to tell him what happens next. In his ghostly state, he stepped onto the boulevard and got a feeling of unimaginable dread.

Beyond the crowd of worried teens, standing alone in the farthest reaches of the courtyard was the lone Ryland Ferris, looking just as dumbfounded as the others. He was not staring at Miles’s body on the ground. He was staring directly into the eyes of his ghost. Miles squinted and wondered if the kid known as Blackout could truly see him. He wondered if Ryland’s gaze was just coincidentally catching his. Miles wouldn’t know for certain until later when he followed his body to the hospital.

Two grueling hours after the incident, Ryland found himself at the hospital waiting patiently for the noise and commotion of Miles’s arrival to ease. The broken boy was given his own room on the second floor with his mother, Chase, and Ben all waiting to see if he would survive. Throughout it all, Ryland kept a respectable distance from the group showing their support and concern. He wasn’t there because Miles Page was a beloved family member or because he was a close friend. Ryland was there because of the ghost he saw earlier. He went wherever Miles’s spirit did.

Ryland walked down the hall to take a sip of water from the fountain. He looked up and was stunned by an unwelcome spirit at his side. A middle-aged man with a bloody face leaned on to the boy. Ryland jumped back when he saw the man was missing an eye. Half of his skull had been shattered and flattened. The blood across his skin was mixed with gravel and dirt. Ryland was not about to help this ghost just yet. This spiritual roadkill was just one of many souls lingering in the hospital waiting for someone to acknowledge them. Ryland shook off the fright, averted his eyes, and walked back to the seated area outside Miles’s room.

He looked over his shoulder very casually to see the flattened ghost get close to a nurse’s face. His abrupt gaze moved to another nurse passing by. The roadkill was just trying to get attention. Thankfully Ryland’s reaction was subtle enough not to let on that he could see him.

On his way back, Ryland lowered his head to avoid the stare of another ghostly patient. A fatally thin woman stood motionless in the middle of the hallway with her hair falling out in massive clusters. She lifted a boney finger to try and touch the people around her. It took all the strength she had to move a single muscle. She was malnourished and clearly died of starvation. Maybe it was self-inflicted. Maybe it was a disease. At the moment Ryland didn’t want to know.

The young boy finally found the seated area where he left his backpack. He stared across the hall to see the glass windows where Miles’s room was. The three distraught visitors were still at his bedside. Ryland sat far away from the room only to witness another ghost appearing in the seat next to him. It was the ghost of Miles Page. He appeared just as he died with his dark curls sitting above his head, with his expensive brand shirt on, and with the many fashionable holes in his jeans. Miles came before Ryland with his elbows placed on his knees and his head hung low.

Am I dead? he asked the only person who could see him.

No, Ryland reassured him. Not yet anyway. You still have your tether. I can see it. Miles didn’t know what Ryland was talking about. He didn’t know what a tether was nor could he see it for himself. The boy with omnipotent vision reached down for something. He knew a touch of the tether would ignite it so Miles could see. One touch from his fingertips sent a spark pulsating through an invisible green cord. The spark sped from Miles’s soul to his body in the distance. It lit up only to vanish again.

Ryland explained that a body and soul were connected. Miles couldn’t venture far as a spirit, or move on to his afterlife, because the tether connecting him to his body wasn’t broken. Miles’s spirit was simply ejected, but until the tether broke, he was still bound to the world of the living.

I knew you were weird, but I didn’t know you had superpowers, said Miles. Ryland couldn’t help but scoff. This isn’t a superpower, he replied. It’s more like a birth defect.

If I die, Miles hesitated with a long pause. Will you talk to my mom for me? Ryland’s eyebrows raised for a sympathetic look. He could see fear and heartache in the spirit’s face. Miles wasn’t worried about losing out on life. He was worried about what his death would do to the people he left behind. He truly was a kind person like all the rumors claimed.

That’s why I’m here, Ryland agreed. He would do whatever the ghost needed him to do if the worst were to happen. Like the countless others he encountered in the past, Ryland would say what needed to be said and carry out the dead’s final wishes. He was only twelve, but Ryland Ferris already considered himself greatly accomplished when it came to good deeds and growing karma. He embraced what he could do and expected recognition and praise to be as invisible as the spirits he spoke to.

Will you also stay with me? asked Miles with clear fear in his voice. He didn’t want to sit in the hospital unseen and unheard. Right now, the timid and quiet boy who went unnoticed in his classes was the only one who could console him. Ryland nodded, almost reluctantly, wondering if Miles would rather have someone else be able to see him. Blackout wasn’t his first choice for consoling, but at least this was a chance for them to finally get to know each other.

Six hours passed from the car accident to the wakening of Miles Page. In that time, Ryland took several bathroom breaks, tried to work on his homework, took a few trips to the vending machine, and kept in contact with Miles’s ghost until he was able to climb back into his body. Chase and Ben grew tired of waiting and went home after three hours while Miles’s mom never left his side.

Miles awoke in a groggy state. He opened one eye at a time with hazy vision stemming from both. The first thing he saw was his mother’s happy face and the doctors she called in. His nose wrinkled and the first words out of his mouth were, Damn, it smells in here.

The doctors ran their tests, checked his senses, and made sure the machines he was hooked up to were showing healthy vitals. Miles tried to sit up in his bed, but the casts around his neck, his legs, and his right arm made it impossible. After getting his diagnostics and being told how his recovery would go, the doctors left Miles and his mother alone.

Ryland gave them a moment to talk before coming into the room. He stopped at the door and knocked lightly on its frame. His tapping was so light it almost went unnoticed. Miles looked up with curiosity while his mother remained joyful in her demeanor. She assumed Ryland was just a friend of Miles who stuck around long enough to make sure he was okay. In truth, the two had never met until today, and Miles didn’t remember the six hours of conversation they engaged in while he was a wandering spirit.

You are such a sweet boy for waiting this long, Miles’s mother proclaimed. She pulled the second chair out of the corner and propped it in front of the bed. She took the liberty to grab Ryland by the shoulders and escort him to it. The ecstatic woman forcefully pushed him onto the seat which sat him and her son face-to-face. Unaware of the awkward situation she was creating, Miles’s mother said she had some phone calls to make and stepped out of the room. Her departure left a deafening, awkward silence.

Blackout, right? Miles tried to remember his name, or at least what people called him.

Ryland, he corrected him.

You’ve really been sitting out there all this time waiting to see if I was okay?

In six hours, Ryland and Miles’s ghost became good friends. They shared each other’s fears, insecurities, hopeful stories of the past, and their plans for the future. In six hours, Ryland knew more about Miles Page than he did about anyone else in his life; but in one brief second, Miles forgot it all. When his spirit returned to his body, his memories of the veil were erased. He couldn’t recall anything, which meant Ryland had to act like nothing happened between them.

He didn’t want to forget and move on from their friendship. He wanted it to be cemented so Miles could stay in his life. He was a decent person, someone who shared his secrets now, and someone who was more understanding and kind than anyone he met before. It would have been easier for Ryland to just forget, but Miles was worth going through the motions for a second time.

That’s weird, Miles continued when he was given no response. We barely know each other.

I stayed because you asked me to, Ryland admitted against his better judgment. Your spirit did at least. We’ve just been talking. This is actually the longest I’ve been in a hospital before. Usually I hate coming here. There are so many ghosts and a lot of them are confused. It’s just not a great place for someone like me—

Wait, Miles interrupted him. "You talk to ghosts? And you’ve been talking to my ghost? This isn’t weird, this is crazy."

Ryland instantly regretted everything he just said and prepared to make his way out in shame. He lowered his head and was trying to take solace in the fact the school year was going to be over soon, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the public ridicule that came from his confession until the fall. He did, however, have a gift for Miles rattling around in his backpack and didn’t want to leave without giving it to him. It was a pack of gummy orange slices he picked up during his last trip to the vending machine.

I got you these, I know they are your favorite, he explained while putting them in Miles’s nonbroken hand. You said you’ve only ever gotten them at your grandparents’ house when you visit for Christmas and Easter. You said that’s what made you like them so much because it was always saved for some special occasion. I thought you not dying today was a pretty special occasion.

Miles never told anyone he liked gummy orange candies. He never bought a pack for himself and never ate them around his friends. It was such a small and trivial detail in his life. Only his close family, gathered for the holidays, knew he liked the orange candy slices covered in thick layers of sugar. The only way Ryland could have known this was if he was telling the truth about their long, intimate, spiritual conversation. Just before Ryland could leave, Miles called to him.

Blackout, he said before quickly correcting himself. I mean, Ryland. The timid teen turned around and saw Miles lifting the arm with a bag of candy in his fist. He gestured to his broken hand and implied there was no way he could open the bag himself. Ryland reluctantly came back to open it for him. Miles took one slice for himself, then told Ryland to sit and take one too. All of a sudden their previous conversation picked up again, but this time from the very beginning.

I didn’t know you had superpowers, said Miles.

Ryland couldn’t help but scoff. It isn’t a superpower, Ryland stated. It’s more of a birth defect.

Chapter 1

The Lost Boys Saloon Ghost

The Paranormal Resident van pulled up to an old Texas bar located directly off the highway exit. It was a bar in the middle of nowhere with the rest of civilization a mile up the road. Paranormal Resident was a TV show on the rise. The ghost-hunting team received hundreds of emails a day begging for them to investigate hotspots across the country. The secluded bar in Texas was fortunate enough to be deemed worthy of their time. Once all the paperwork was complete, the three hunters were able to begin their investigation. It would start with interviews, a tour of the Lost Boys Saloon, and end with a nightlong filming of the bar in total darkness.

Stepping out of the driver’s seat was lead investigator and camera heartthrob Miles Page. He was the perfect person to be the face of an entire TV show no matter what the content. His leading-man physique and muscular tone counteracted the average-at-best people who followed him on his investigations. At twenty-eight, Miles Page was a recognizable celebrity and a hero in his hometown.

He tore off his sunglasses to expose his enticing brown eyes to the world. Every curl on top of Miles’s head bounced gently as he walked. Those who caught sight of Miles Page weren’t looking at his hair or his eyes, however. All anyone could look at were his chiseled and bare arms exposed in a slick, black tank.

Sliding open the back door of the van was designated camera crewmember Ryan Martin. He went to film school hoping to create a solid foundation for his behind-the-scenes career in movies. He reluctantly took on the role of ghost hunter when their series was in development. Ryan was known as the jittery hunter throughout all of Season 1. The fans of Paranormal Resident consistently commented claiming Ryan was annoying and uninteresting.

The ridicule didn’t affect Ryan so much as the investigations themselves. He always sequestered himself before and after shooting. He was a man of preparation and planning, but he was also a man filled with crippling anxiety. The show’s investigators had a three-year contract, yet somehow Ryan managed to break his. He should have been relieved this was his last investigation, yet he still arrived at the bar jittery and paranoid.

The final hunter was the quiet, wide-eyed Ryland Ferris. He was an essential part of the show and widely recognized as the co-host with no fear. He was the one always being left alone in the dark. Ryland was the one who sensed the invisible presences around them. He was the one who added mystery and depth. The network insisted Miles be on the spotlight, but with respectable attention put on the ghost-sensitive Ryland Ferris.

His bright attire and long golden hair didn’t match his personality. Ryland was a quiet person and an introvert at best. He was the one who steered away from personal questions in interviews and promotional materials. He didn’t bother to show excitement for the compelling evidence they caught. Ryland may have looked like a ray of sunshine capable of brightening the world, but in truth, he was a reserved person who wanted nothing more than to avoid the world completely.

Alright, episode 8, Miles exclaimed as he came around the van. Let’s do this.

Yes, let’s get this over with, Ryan groaned while handing Miles a camera, then passing another to Ryland. All three were equipped with their individual gear while a massive duffle bag of more equipment was carried inside. It was the same procedure for every investigation: three cameras on the hunters and five more set up around the bar itself.

Take it easy, Ryan, replied Miles. You’ll be back in your hotel by four and you’ll be back in New York by this time tomorrow. Just try to enjoy yourself. When are you really planning on ever visiting Texas again?

Every thought Miles had was the bright side of a dark situation. He was the personification of a silver lining. This often drove Ryan into a state of hysterical rage that dwelled deep inside of him and rarely came to the surface. He despised Miles’s positive nature and how he managed to maintain it. The three of them traveled to eighteen locations for ghostly investigations between two seasons of television. In that time, they saw and lived through terrible, sometimes painful, experiences. Every investigation was a nightmare for Ryan, and he couldn’t understand how Miles came out of these terrors so upbeat and unscathed.

Hey, Miles called ahead to Ryland. His co-host stood before the bar in a zombielike state. Do you see anything? He knew his friend of sixteen years always scanned the locations with his spiritual sixth sense. Sometimes he saw haunting spirits even before entering the buildings. He did this for multiple reasons—the most important being he wanted to see just how territorial the ghosts inside were. Some welcomed them while others gave warnings not to enter.

No, Ryland answered truthfully.

With a green light from their residential medium, Miles and Ryan headed inside to meet the owner of the Lost Boys Saloon.

The burly man in black sat at his cleared-out bar with two of his female servers. The women were pretty in their own right, with ratted hair and frayed shorts that covered the bare necessity. Each one of the workers shook the hunters’ hands before the cameras began rolling and the investigation officially began.

We are here at the Lost Boys Saloon in Texas after getting a plea for help from the owner, Miles said to Ryan’s camera. He then turned to the burly man on his left. Sir, what kind of activity have you been experiencing?

Glasses being thrown, loud wailing from the back rooms, he named the cliché haunting tropes. A lot of my female employees keep getting grabbed in a sexual manner.

The women spoke to Ryland’s camera about their encounters with the ghostly presence. They talked about feeling slaps on their backsides and pinches when no one was near them. They both claimed to feel sexually violated by the entity in the bar. Ryland lifted the camera high enough to hide his face from the women talking into it. He did this so they couldn’t see his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Every investigation of a bar had the same patterns of activity—pretty girls getting grabbed, glasses being broken, and unexplained noises in the basement. Ryland didn’t know how many more cliché interviews he could sit through.

After the interviews were deemed television-worthy, the owner shook Miles’s hand one last time and left so they could capture the bar’s ghost on film. The owner wasn’t worried about finding evidence of the spirit. He wouldn’t even be thinking about the entity before he fell asleep that night. The owner would lay his head down with childish anticipation knowing his bar was going to be featured on the Explore America Network when this Paranormal Resident episode aired. Being featured on a highly watched travel channel meant customer traffic would swarm into his bar even if it was just by paranormal buffs wanting to experience the ghostly activity for themselves.

First and foremost, Paranormal Resident was a glorified brochure for hotspots across America. It was a credible documentation of ghost activity second. Miles and Ryland didn’t care what network aired their show and what sort of lingo they had to work in to make the bar itself sound appealing. Ghosts were their passion, but selling a tourist location to an audience was their job.

As soon as they were alone, Ryan began taping black plastic bags over each neon sign in the bar. He covered the exit signs, the bar signs, and anything florescent to make the scene pitch-black. In the meantime, Ryland and Miles set up the cameras in the backrooms and basement. It was during this part Ryland kept his eyes shuffling in all directions.

The two crossed paths in the main bar and spoke softly so Ryan couldn’t hear. This was a normal thing for Ryland and Miles and the main reason why Ryan felt isolated as a teammate. The main hosts were inseparable on and off camera. Their history together and long-standing friendship clearly didn’t leave room for anyone else.

Are you picking up on anything? Miles asked.

No, sighed Ryland. What about you? Miles took in a deep breath, then let it pass through his nose loudly. He shook his head no.

After a near-death experience at the age of twelve, Miles grew a connection to the spirit world himself. He couldn’t see full apparitions like Ryland. He couldn’t speak to the dead in any way without the devices his team used during their investigations. Miles Page, however, could smell the spirit world and all who lingered inside. The veil of the dead had a constantly shifting aroma. Miles was fortunate enough to sense it.

Every ghost had a unique scent. Miles remembered the smell of smoke and ash when confronted with a ghost inside an old military compound last year. He recalled the sweet scent of perfume that radiated off the ghost of a Victorian mansion in upstate Connecticut. One of the worst smells of his life, however, had to be the stench coming from a dark entity in a Michigan home that was once owned by satanic worshipers.

All right, let’s be sure to get more landscape shots from outside just in case this is uneventful, Miles declared. Some locations they were sent to had tremendous amounts of activity. Others had absolutely none. This was starting to seem like the latter as their lockdown began, and nothing caught their attention. The team carried on nonetheless and let the lights of their cameras be their only guide through the black building.

We are here at the Lost Boys Saloon after dark, Miles explained for the camera. Ryan and I are about to go into the basement where a lot of suspicious moaning can be heard. Ryland will stay up here and see if he can capture who has been causing all the glasses to break.

The team split up and each began filming his own interactions. Ryan was the first to say he felt a dark presence in the bar which stemmed merely from his claustrophobia. Miles humored him and said he felt the same presence. Their mutually spoken feelings of discomfort would at least make for a chilling episode scene when paired with eerie music during the edit. Embellishment was key to a compelling episode and so was Ryan’s paranoia to keep his online haters watching and commenting.

Ryland stayed in the main bar, taking a seat in a lonely booth, and turning on a small device that released white noise into the air. He used the device to try and communicate with the spirits around him, even though he was one hundred percent certain there were none.

The quiet black setting began to pick up subtle movements from outside. The booth he sat in rattled faintly from a large truck coming off the highway exit. It even shook the table his device sat on. All of a sudden, Ryland heard the breaking of a glass across the room. He jumped in surprise, grabbed his camera, and ran to the spot where a glass mysteriously fell off its mantle.

Ryland’s eyes studied his surroundings while the camera fixated on the broken object. He could see the glassware all lined up on rickety old rails with one specifically loosened by its aging screws. It was clear the heavy-loaded traffic outside was the cause of the mysterious shattering. What was speculated as a ghost was now confirmed as mere aging of the building itself. Of course Ryland didn’t say this for the camera. He continued to react like a malevolent spirit threw it in order to get his attention. His audience wanted eerie chills, not cynical facts.

The night dragged on with barely passable footage being collected that would somehow be edited into a great and captivating eighth episode for their second season. Ryan, Ryland, and Miles all switched rooms, switched communication devices, and delved into their own relationships for the cameras to document. They even spoke about Ryan leaving after this investigation. This forced him to lie and say he was sad to be going. It all wrapped up when the black sheets were pulled from the windows to reveal the sky in its twilight state. The second the sheets were pulled though, Miles got a strong whiff of whiskey like someone just opened a dozen bottles to celebrate the night’s end.

Ryland, Miles called to his friend.

I know, I see it, he replied quickly. Miles’s spiritual sense picked up on the ghost who presented itself the second their investigation was over. Ryland confirmed his suspicions by saying he could see the ghost in its full glory.

Well, should we . . . Miles paused only to see Ryland’s face was erased of all emotion. The silent blond stood motionless with his hand clutching the edge of the bar. Miles snapped in his direction and called his name. There was no reaction. Ryland didn’t even flinch from the sound. He’s blacked out again. I wish he would give us a warning before he checks out like that.

It’s so creepy, Ryan added with his nose crinkled and eyebrows lowered.

You get used to it, replied Miles with a shrug. Come on, let’s collect the gear and get it to the van.

Miles and Ryan went from room to room collecting the cameras they set up and pulling down the rest of the sheets over the neon signs. They did so while Ryland stood silent at his spot against the bar. He blacked out often which was inconvenient and somewhat offensive to those around him. Many thought it was a neurological condition. In truth, his consciousness has stepped out of his body in order to communicate face-to-face with spirits. Those close to him knew what Ryland’s arrogant silence in conversation was and what was his spirit leaving his body. They knew the difference because Ryland’s green eyes turned gray when he stepped out.

What Miles and Ryan didn’t see was Ryland’s own ghost entering the bar. The veil of the dead was soundless like diving into deep waters. Before he left his body, Ryland could hear crickets and cars. Now there was nothing but vast emptiness for his ears to absorb. The young investigator walked through the veil to the lone spirit sitting in a corner booth. The elderly man tried to go unnoticed, and as a mere ghost he was succeeding in doing so. He couldn’t hide his bourbon-soaked scent from Miles, however, and his spiritual essence was picked up by the medium who approached him. For the first time in years, the elderly ghost would have someone sit next to him and acknowledge his presence.

Ryland took in everything the man’s image had to offer. His military green jacket was tattered and wet from the rain that no longer poured. His bald head was trying desperately to sprout gray strands amongst its shiny surface. In his hand was a glass he couldn’t seem to let go of with half of his drink still waiting to be finished.

You guys are annoying, said the bitter old man. You keep asking questions into your little recorders like I have anything to say to you.

Trust me, Ryland replied. You are not the first person to tell us that. We aren’t filming now though, so who are you? Ryland could tell the ghost didn’t want to tell him anything, but he desperately wanted to talk to someone. This was the case with many ghosts. Loneliness and solitude became familiar and a necessity. Ghosts had nobody, no family, and no more reason for being. They had nothing left but a lingering truth to tell. This meant beneath their loneliness was a yearning to speak up.

Glen Hammond, the old man said his name.

How long have you been here?

Four years, he went on while taking a sip of his drink. I died when my car crashed leaving the bar. I guess that’s one way to get out of a third DUI. After I was dead, I couldn’t find my way home so I just came back here.

You can go home, explained Ryland with a smug look. You just have too much guilt to actually do it.

Glen jeered and looked offended. How do you know what I got, huh? He grew defensive.

You’re a ghost. You can explore the infinite cosmos if you were up for it, but your mind is working a lot differently on this side. If you are scared to go home, then you’ll forget where home is. If you’re too ashamed to see someone, then your eyes won’t even notice them around. Shame is worse than guilt though. If it’s shame holding you back, then you’ll forget certain people entirely.

Ryland leaned forward and intertwined his fingers on the table. He never talked much unless it was with the dead. No living person seemed worthy of his wisdom and therapeutic intellect. Crossing paths with ghosts were the only meaningful moments he had in his life. Think hard, he went on. What’s got you feeling so guilty?

Glen Hammond forgot about his family and his home. They were memories that got pushed so far back into his mind they didn’t even exist to him anymore. It took the wisdom of a television medium to get him to dig deep and unbury his shameful moments. Ryland watched as Glen’s face went from a confusing struggle, to a horrific realization, and finally to a look of sadness and regret.

I’m going to hell, Glen realized with his hands now cupping his mouth. My god, I’m going to hell. His thoughts came out in a horrific realization of what he had done in his life. My kids . . . Oh Lord, my wife . . . The things I did . . . His head fell onto the table in shame. He was finally remembering the home he tried desperately to suppress the memory of. He regretted so much. He was accused of so many things. Some accusations, however, were ridiculous and false. He thought of these and slammed his fist on the table.

I never touched those girls in this bar! he shouted about the employees that claimed a spirit grabbed them sexually. I cheated on my wife. I did a lot of terrible things, but I never touched those girls alive or dead!

I know, Ryland reassured him with a nod. The living demonized ghosts for general mischief