The Spirit Chaser the Final Haunt

By Kat Mayor

Third Eye Redesigned
Casey faces a long, arduous recovery. Her near-death experience has left her with the loss of her human sight. It has also left her with abilities she never had before.
SCI Realigned
The Spirit Chasers are back, investigating the most haunted locations in America. After all, these ghosts aren’t going to cross themselves over. This season they take on the legendary Hillendahl Mansion and an abandoned psychiatric hospital, as well as homes with an evil and bloody history.
Investigation Rewind
Some places are too evil—Enchanted Hill should be left alone. Lurking in the background is a demonic entity they just can’t escape. If they brave it, they’re going to need every supernatural gift at their disposal to defeat an ancient evil that threatens to destroy them all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kat Mayor
• Release date: Sep 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215587102

Kat Mayor

I am a native Texan and have lived in the Houston area for most of my life. I love to read and I love to write. I am a full-time wife, mom, and ultrasound technologist, and a part-time lunch lady at my children’s school. When I’m not doing any of the above, I enjoy swimming with my kids, watching the Walking Dead, and activities at church and in my children’s school. Occasionally, I sleep.

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The Final Haunt

The Spirit Chasers Book 4

Kat Mayor

Copyright © 2023 by Kat Mayor

Cover by Bespoke Book Covers

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

Contents

1.Get Your Ghost Freak On

2.Six Months Earlier

3.The Bowman Walkthrough

4.The Bowman Investigation

5.Casey

6.Barrett

7.The Conner Investigation

8.Weak Demon

9.Casey

10.Casey

11.Messy House, Messy Life

12.Hauling off the Haunted Hoard

13.Haunted Hoard Day Two

14.Ghost Suit

15.Robbie

16.Hillendahl Investigation

17.The Big Reveal

18.Bernard Hillendahl

19.The Investigation That Won’t End

20.Reluctant Return

21.Back in the Bitch’s Lair

22.The Exorcism Begins

23.Hail Mary

24.Five Years Later

Thank you, Brandy, for all your encouragment. I couldn't have written this without you. Thank you, Laura, for all your help with editing.

Book Description

Third Eye Redesigned

Casey faces a long, arduous recovery. Her near-death experience has left her with the loss of her human sight. It has also left her with abilities she never had before.

SCI Realigned

The Spirit Chasers are back, investigating the most haunted locations in America. After all, these ghosts aren’t going to cross themselves over. This season they take on the legendary Hillendahl Mansion and an abandoned psychiatric hospital, as well as homes with an evil and bloody history.

Investigation Rewind

Some places are too evil—Enchanted Hill should be left alone. Lurking in the background is a demonic entity they just can’t escape. If they brave it, they’re going to need every supernatural gift at their disposal to defeat an ancient evil that threatens to destroy them all.

Get Your Ghost Freak On

T his is it? The infamous Enchanted Hill? Stu’s brow furrowed. He appeared more incredulous than terrified as he stared up at the large, dilapidated mansion. It would make a killer set for one of those old black and white horror movies, but to me, it looks more pathetic than demonic.

We shouldn’t be here, Blake thought for the hundredth time, but as the assistant investigator of Get Your Ghost Freak On, he had no say. It was Stu’s great idea to investigate the spooky mansion made famous by the on-scene death of a rival paranormal investigator. What about Cole? Blake asked.

Stu thought it would be rating’s gold to best Spirit Chaser’s Investigations. If they could concoct some paranormal explanation for what happened, even better in Stu’s opinion. Blake shivered. Stu might not be scared, but he sure as hell was. Stu exhaled loudly. He didn’t believe in the supernatural, although he enjoyed profiting from those who did. Cole was a drunk, probably on drugs, too. He liked to pretend he was Mr. Fitness, but I saw him a few weeks before he died. He was wasted and pale as the ghosts he believed he was hunting. The dude looked like total shit. Fucking hypocrite.

Blake swallowed. Officially Cole took his own life, but that didn’t jibe with what he knew of the world-renowned ghost hunter. Eating right and working out was just as much a religion for Cole as his Catholic faith. He epitomized living a good life and enjoying every minute of it. Okay, you’re being as stupid as Stu, he chided himself. You didn’t know Cole in real life. There’s no telling what kind of personal hell he was going through once the cameras were off. How many of the rich and famous died of an overdose every year? How many looked like they had a perfect life from the outside?

Well, c’mon. Let’s head inside and take a look. He glanced back at Blake and Rick, the camera guy, who both were standing stock still. Let’s go. Stu strode toward the front door. He pressed his shoulder into it, but it didn’t budge. Then he tried the knob, and it turned in his hand. That’s weird. It’s unlocked. It must be jammed on something. You know these old houses.

Yeah, or maybe whatever’s on the inside wants to keep us outside, Blake thought.

Stu put all his muscle into it, shoving as hard as he could. He grunted from the strain. Funny, it’s like someone’s pushing back from the inside.

Someone or something? Blake wondered.

Don’t just stand there, give me a hand.

Stubborn as Stu was, Blake knew he would be undeterred. They’d known each other since their days playing hockey at Minnesota State University, and this was the same tactic Stu had used back then. He refused to accept defeat. This was more than an investigation. It was a pissing contest. GYGFO had chased SCI’s ratings for years. Stu saw this as a personal challenge: Conquer Enchanted Hill, the location that broke Austin Cole. Blake stood next to Stu and forced his shoulder into the old wood door. It cracked, then finally gave way.

Rick followed behind. Flying dust and cobwebs swirled around, sending Blake into a coughing fit. With the setting sun, the small entryway was obscured in shadow. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw the darkness creep forward. He jumped as his heartrate picked up. Damn, now he was imagining things.

"This place is kinda weird," Stu allowed.

The Spirit Chaser crew had clammed up about Enchanted Hill the moment their CEO and lead investigator offed himself. This only led to more questions and wild speculation as to what happened. The news outlets that had been on the scene to report the famous star’s untimely death made it seem like the place was decrepit and about to collapse. Stu remembered one reporter even suggesting the fall that caused Cole’s death could have been an accident, due to the mansion’s state of disrepair. Stu stomped on the floor and thumped the wall. It seemed pretty solid to him. Dusty but solid. The ceiling showed no signs of water damage. He distinctly remembered the reporter saying something about holes in the stair treads from rotted wood, but he could see they were intact. Gives me goosebumps. It’ll be great for the season finale. He took a step forward with Blake glued to his backside. Rick was so close to Blake that he could feel his breath on his neck. Blake could hear Stu snicker, clearly amused by their terror.

Stu strode to the main room. A cackling laugh reverberated around the room, and all three of their heads jerked in different directions, trying to locate where it was coming from and to whom, or what, it belonged.

Puffing out his chest and strutting forward, Stu shouted, Who’s there?

A single low whisper melded into several distinct voices. It reminded Blake of the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard, creating both auditory and neural sensory discomfort at the same time. The whispers crawled on his skin, feather-light and nausea-inducing. Blake slammed his hands over his ears in a futile attempt to drown out the noise. It made no difference. Somehow, the voices were no longer in the room but inside his skull.

What are you saying? Speak! Stu demanded.

The whispers rippled and folded onto one another, a crescendo of hisses until, finally, they coalesced into a guttural, threatening question. Why did you come?

Blake’s eyes grew wide as an unseen force lifted Stu off his feet. He clawed at invisible hands on his neck as his face turned red, then purple. Blake saw something in Stu’s eyes he had never seen before—true fear.

Impossibly, a strong wind circulated through the closed room. Rick threw down his gear, running for the front door. A strange calm came over Blake. Then a chuckle bubbled up from his throat as a smile stretched across his face. Pussy, Blake yelled in a tone that was unrecognizable. It sounded like more than one voice shouting in multiple octaves. He was vaguely aware that neither his mind nor his body were any longer under his control. He was sharing them with something—and it was a thing—inside the house. It didn’t bother him one bit.

Rick pulled and tugged on the front door. The doorknob didn’t turn; it spun three hundred sixty degrees in his hand. Fuck, fuck. Let me out! he screamed.

The force holding Stu above the ground began spinning him in circles. Rick took one look at his boss, then began ramming the front door with his shoulders.

Blake’s head flew back as he laughed like the maniac he had become. Slowly, his own feet left the ground until he was suspended in the air, staring down at Stu’s head.

Stu swallowed roughly as he looked at the thing that resembled his friend, but that was as far as the comparison went. The whites of Blake’s eyes were as dark as coal. What do you want? Stu managed.

What do you want? The thing that had taken over Blake’s body imitated Stu perfectly. You are trespassing on unholy ground. How shall we punish you?

Stu could come up with a couple of dozen guesses, none of them pleasant. Not to mention that this thing referred to himself in the plural. He whimpered as a stream of urine ran down his leg, puddling on the floor. The thing’s dark eyes widened. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of pointed, yellow teeth. They were no more human than a Bengal Tiger’s incisors. Before Stu had time to blink, the being pounced on him.

Rick started yelling as bloody bits of Stu flew all over the room. He spoke into the camera’s mic. Guys, help! I can’t get out, he screamed, hoping the tech crew would hear. The camera floated up on its own, and aimed itself at Blake and Stu, capturing the shredding of flesh for the tech crew to see from the live feed.

***

Phil realized too late that he should have listened to his former boss from SCI. Don’t do it, man. That place will fuck you up. Thai’s words echoed in Phil’s head. He’d called to ask Thai’s opinion on Stu’s latest pet project. It only confirmed his suspicions. Phil didn’t have a strong sense of ESP, but he’d awoken every night in a panic attack from a horrible nightmare ever since Stu announced they would be investigating Enchanted Hill. He was staring at the monitor as the footage came through. Holy fuck, guys, you gotta see this! Lexi and Gene ran over just in time to see a monstrous version of Blake rip Stu’s left eye out of its socket.

I can’t get out! Rick screamed. Lexi gasped as the tough-as-nails cameraman cried and begged.

Let’s go, Gene yelled, as he took his pistol out of the safe. Phil, grab the ax.

***

Rick huddled by the front door with his eyes closed, praying that the thing was focusing all its energy on slicing and dicing Stu into quarter-sized pieces and would leave him the hell alone.

Hang on, Rick heard Phil yell from the other side of the door. Bam, Bam, Bam.

Blake turned at the noise. His face and hands were covered in pink bits of human tissue. He dropped Stu’s blood-dripping flesh sack, training his eyes on new prey.

The door splintered as Gene pushed through. C’mon, man, let’s go.

Rick was halfway through the door when he felt a sharp pain in his calf. He screamed. Lexi turned, covering her mouth. The Blake thing was chewing on one of Rick’s legs. Gene held on, pulling Rick’s hand as hard as he could. Phil grabbed his other hand. They were in a tug-of-war, and Rick was the rope. A blood-curdling scream issued from Rick’s throat. The guys fell back as Rick was ripped from their hands. Lexi would never forget the horrified look on his face as the monster sucked him down the dark hall. The half-broken front door slammed shut. Then silence.

Lexi looked at Gene and Phil. Should we go in … do you think?

Gene’s face had taken on a green tint. Uh, I… He didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence. The thing inside threw a bloody ball through the broken front door. It was Rick’s head, a pool of red spilling from his neck.

Lexi’s screams knocked Phil out of his stupor of incredulity. C’mon Lexi. We gotta go. There’s nothing we can do. She froze. C’mon! Phil yelled. What was left of the door splintered from the inside out, cracking as the creature’s head burst forth.

Holy shit! Gene skittered backward. The face was Blake’s, but its head was at least five times larger. The body was that of a monster—lobster-like claws, fur-covered chest, thick, leathery wings, and a reptilian tail. It snatched Lexi up in one of its claws and flew back into the house. A layer of thick slime appeared over the now-open front entrance, sealing it shut and trapping Lexi inside with it.

Phil grabbed at the gooey slime, but he couldn’t break through. Forget it, man, Gene told him.But we can’t leave her in there with that thing.

Dude, you saw what it did to Rick. It’s too late for her. The creature inside roared, convincing Phil that Gene was right. They ran down the road to the truck. Gene put it in gear and didn’t look back.

Six Months Earlier

Austin

One beep. My head whips over to the screen, where I see a blip. Long pause. Then another beep/blip. Shorter pause. More beep/blips follow in succession.

We’ve got a rhythm, the doctor announces. I’m holding my breath. Case’s spirit descends into the pale, still body lying in the bed. With each consecutive blip on the monitor, the translucent spirit merges with flesh and bone. I exhale loudly, not that anyone in the room even notices.

Doc Rach shouts out commands. I glide to the back of the room. The nurses run around, injecting meds into Casey’s port and hanging bags of IV fluids. I close my eyes and rest my forehead on my folded hands. We’ve dodged a bullet. This time.

Doc Rach leaves the room. I can tell by her thoughts that she’s going to speak to Case’s parents. I hear her rehearsing the most delicate way to inform them that yes, their daughter died, but they brought her back. A few of the other nurses and technologists stick around until they’re sure Case is stable—well, as stable as she’s going to get. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. It’s not like they even know I’m here. But it feels more private to wait, so that’s what I do.

I materialize by her bedside the moment they leave. I look down into her still, pale face, placing a cool hand on her forehead. Case, I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. You need to fight. Fight hard.

She doesn’t move or blink, but I can feel her. Somewhere deep down, there is a flicker of recognition. Austin. It’s a soft breeze, a mere slip of a whisper.

Promise me. Nothing but silence. Case? Promise me! I try to sound firm, but I choke on the words. I’m not in control. I’m begging.

Time stretches out. Minutes become hours as I absently watch the hands on the clock at the nurses’ station circle the twelve numerals. I can wait. As a ghost, that’s my forte. I’m not sure what’s taking so long, but I sense she’s not doing this to torture me. I doubt she has the strength.

A sudden sense of peace envelops me. It’s like sunlight on my face after a long, cold winter. In the only way she can, Case is sending me her love and comfort. I am filled with joy. I am filled with despair. Why are the most beautiful moments in this world the ones that rip your heart apart?

For a long time, I felt cheated, like my death had no meaning. Now I wonder if the purpose was to save Case from Cal. Nah. I don’t believe that. It would have been easier to kill Cal as a living man, using my bare hands, if necessary. No, I was meant to die. Maybe I was meant to share this tragic moment with Case, be with her as she transitions to the afterlife. It’s not what I want for her, but we don’t always get what we want.

Half a day later, I feel her presence in the corner of my mind. Tiny words, economic in their scope, as if she can’t afford to waste an ounce of energy on a single thought.

Can’t promise that. Not gonna lie to you, Control.

It takes me a beat to realize she’s answering the question I posed almost twelve hours earlier. The most stubborn woman I know. That’s okay. I’ll convince her. After all, I’m the most stubborn man—dead or alive.

The Bowman Walkthrough

Thai

Iglance down at the request—Bowman Institute. It’s been pushed to the back of the line for half a dozen dumbass reasons. But now, things have changed. New owners have bought the property and the institute is set to be demolished next year. It’s now or never.

If the reports of paranormal activity are even ten percent true, it will make a great show. But I just can’t get excited about it. The reason for my lack of enthusiasm has nothing to do with the Bowman Institute. What went down last season has left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Casey’s in a coma, and a melancholy funk weighs on the team. We need a leader. That’s me, whether I feel like it or not. I throw a few things in my overnight bag and head for the airport to meet Gary and Barrett for the walkthrough.

After the flight, we rent a car and drive straight to the Bowman Institute. I’ve only seen images of the place online. It’s a sprawling, one-story building with long, winding corridors. The trees obscure the building from the road. It was built at a time when mental hospitals were constructed on large, secluded properties. I can imagine how it used to be. Lush green gardens where the nurses wheeled their patients for a rare chance to feel the sun on their faces. These types of buildings are long gone. The few that are still around are called psychiatric hospitals now.

As we approach the front entrance, I focus my senses. A few auras are floating to and fro in what was once a peaceful outdoor landscape. Now there is no path, and the weeds and brush have overtaken everything. The auras are faded and non-intelligent. They could be confused ghosts, wandering the property, but more likely, they are residual hauntings—vestiges of psychic energy from the past rather than actual spirits.

Yes, that’s right, Barrett confirms. He rubs his fingers together. He’s getting a feeling. The real stuff is inside.

In my mind, I divide our investigations into two categories. The first is actively paranormal occupied homes and businesses. These are the emergency cases we are called to investigate immediately, when the occupants are