Ghost Hunter

[PM2K]

Ghost Hunter - by PM2K

As darkness slowly erases the swampland from view, Rachel wonders for the umpteenth time whether this has been a good idea.
The short haired brunette adjusts her wire rim glasses, then attempts to get her bearings. The smart phone's GPS has proven to be useless in this terrain, due to the lack of cell towers in this part of the swamp. She couldn't even scare up a dial tone.
Great... just great...
Rachel slips the device into a pocket on her green army surplus ruck sack, and slings the pack onto her back, threading her arms through the shoulder straps. She reaches down the front of her short sleeved beige T-shirt and extracts a flat compass which has been hanging around her neck on a red cord.
Flipping it open, she takes a quick reading, then nods. Still on the right track, if I dare to follow it.
I dare... she thinks. It's why I'm here in the first place. I've a date with a ghost.

Once a reporter with a small town paper, Rachel got into paranormal investigations quite by accident. Her editor assigned her a story about local ghost hunters which he thought would be amusing to run in their Halloween edition. Skeptical at first, she introduced herself to Jordan and Katie, a pair of college students who were self-taught experts in such things, and had made a name for themselves investigating local hauntings.
Rachel became a believer when the trio stayed overnight at Winsley Manor, and experienced something which had terrified the crap out of her, some of which she managed to record on her camera. Her story caused a minor sensation among other believers, and while skeptics made a lot of noise about it being faked, they couldn't prove it.
The shared event brought Rachel, Katie and Jordan together into a formal alliance, and they continued to do their investigations whenever time permitted. When Rachel lost her job after being swept away in a wave of cutbacks, ghost investigations became a full time thing.
Inspired by others who had supernatural reality shows, Rachel talked her partners into launching a web series on their adventures, and within two years they had made a moderate success at it, enough of one to be able to upgrade their equipment and to begin traveling, acting on viewers' suggestions.

This career brought recognition and some measure of fame, but with this came friction within the team. Jordan in particular frequently clashed with Rachel, as her ambitions made her aggressive and abrasive in equal measure.
"This is not something to mess with!" he said at the conclusion of one investigation. Determined to come up with spectacular footage and sound clips of one particular haunting, Rachel had deliberately stirred up trouble with the resident spirits by bringing with her a teddy bear connected to one of the deceased. The explosion of activity which resulted did make for a great show, but severely traumatized Katie and injured several bystanders.
"I think our numbers say otherwise..." Rachel replies nonchalantly. Their latest web casts regularly receive a million hits, which translated in a tidy revenue stream from online advertisers.
Jordan slams his hands on the desk they used at their home office. Katie, seated nearby, jumps in place at the sudden sound, and shudders. She never really recovered from the previous incident, and tended to remain quiet and withdrawn.
"You don't get it!" he says forcefully. "You are screwing with powerful forces, here..."
Rachel snorts.
"Don't start believing your own hype, Jordan," she says acidly. "A few spooks stirred up here and there makes for great television, but you know as well as I those haunts are tied to a location..."
"Besides..." Rachel adds, "you and Katie have been poking your noses in these places long before i came along, so don't act all high and mighty.."
"Not my point..." Jordan replies, his voice tight. "We were investigating and trying to establish contact to learn something, maybe even help out... You are tormenting the dead for your own amusement... and that is messing with something which is beyond all of our understandings..."

It was a quiet road trip to Louisiana as the team made its way into the heart of bayou country. They were here to check out the legend of the Dusk Maiden of Dark Water Swamp... supposedly the ghost of a teen girl who haunts the muck and mire of the swampy backwoods.
Katie had dug up some background on the local folklore behind it, and recited it while Rachel drove. According to the story, Adrienne, a young daughter of high society, was married off by her parents to a man many years her senior, a man of wealth and standing, and of a cruel, sadistic nature.
One day, unable to stand the abuse and unspeakable treatment by his hands any longer, she slipped away one night to take one of the horses from the stable and used it to escape. Enraged, the old man rounded up a posse and they pursued the poor girl, who as they closed in on her panicked and left the trail, riding straight into the swamp.
The posse lost her among the maze of dark water and thick tangles of cyprus trees and spanish moss, and were forced to turn back by the approaching night. The next morning, as they were packing up camp, one of the posse spotted her mud splattered horse slowly making its way out of the swamp, but their was no trace of their master's wife.
Needless to say, Adrienne was never seen again.

"Perfect..." Rachel says, upon hearing the story. "Think of the atmosphere coming from our first outdoor shoot! I think we're turning a corner here, people..."
"If you say so..." Jordan replies, less enthusiastically. He is worried about Katie, and sits with her in the back of the van. She has been jumpy ever since she brought them their latest case. Unlike the others, the petite blonde is sensitive to the comings and goings of spirits... Her insights proved invaluable on their investigations, but the strain...
As if reading his thoughts, she places a gentle hand on his wrist and smiles weakly, her pale blue eyes blinking.
"So... Katie?" Rachel says loudly, above the din of their travel. The cracked pavement of county roads has dissolved into rough gravel, yet she isn't slowing down, causing the vehicle to bounce over every pit and dip in its surface.
"Yes?" Katie replies, looking paler than usual. Jordan is feeling queasy himself, which isn't being helped by the rocking van.
"This story.... who tipped you off about it? A viewer?"
A violent bang shakes the entire vehicle, and Jordan leans forward.
"For Christ's sake, slow down!" he snarls. "You're going to kill us!"
"Sort of.... yes..." Katie says quietly, her response lost in the din.
"We don't have any time..." Rachel says, eyes fixed on the road. It is late afternoon, and the light is beginning to fade. Their finances were stretched to the limit, and they had to wrap this up within a day or two before the money ran out. If they had any chance to catch the Dusk Maiden in the act...
"Look out!"
Katie's voice rode the knife edge of terror, startling Rachel and Jordan. The lapse in concentration, combined with speed and an ill-timed bump sent the van careening off the road...

"Well, this is just great..."
Rachel glares at the wreckage which was their van, now reduced to a crumpled can lying on its side. Equipment lies strewn across the roadway, mixed with leaking oil and coolant. Grumbling, she grabs a few items and stuffs them inside her ruck sack. Squatting down, she checking to see if the hand held video camera lying on the road still worked. Miraculously, it did, somehow surviving the crash. Nodding to herself, she places it in one of the ruck's side pockets.
Slinging it onto her back, she starts to walk into the forest when she hears a sharp voice.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Jordan is lying under a massive cypress tree, leaning against the trunk. His right leg is wrapped in cloth, held in place by a pair of long branches. His forehead is also wrapped, the white cloth stained with dried blood. Katie lies curled beside him on the grass, flinching in pain. Her face is gray, and slimy with cold sweat.
Unlike her compatriots, Rachel had emerged from the wreckage unscathed, thanks to the airbag and seatbelt. She had dragged the others out of the vehicle, and treated them as best she could under the circumstances. Jordan's leg has been broken, his head lacerated by flying equipment, while Katie... she didn't know about her. Broke some ribs, maybe. The blonde keeps mumbling and whimpering to herself.
"Completing our assignment, of course..." Rachel says. "We came all this way, and I'm not leaving here empty handed...."
Jordan frowns at her with a mix of surprise and anger.
"Are you nuts? Look at us!" he snaps sharply. "We're in no condition to do anything!"
"I know..." Rachel replies. "That's why I'm going to do this myself...."
Jordan shakes his aching head, trying ot ignore how it keeps swimming. Crap... must have a concussion or something... Katie moans something incoherently, as if she is in conversation with herself.
"Now I know you're crazy..." he said. "That's a dangerous piece of bush to be wandering in alone, even without a ghost in it... People go missing in there all the time..."
Rachel flashes a sly grin at him, which in the late afternoon sun looks to be a cross between an arrogant smirk and a slasher smile.
"I'm a big girl... I can take care of myself..." she says, then waves at Jordan's splints. "Learned that in the reserves... plus outdoor survival... I'll be fine..."
Rachel turns to go, but stops when Jordan reaches out to grab her ankle, pulling on her faded jeans as he does so.
"For God's sake... you can't just leave us! We need medical help! I'm pretty bashed up and Katie could be bleeding internally for all we know..."
"Hm... serves her right..." she replies. "If she hadn't screamed in my ear like that..."
Seeing Jordan's expression, she reaches into her pocket and extracts a slim cell phone. She hands it to him, who thumbs the on button. He is relieved to see four bars appear.
"There... all set," Rachel says, then turns away again.
"Don't... don't go... please..."
The voice is weak and wavering, but it is definitely Katie's. Her eyes flutter open, and she looks straight at Rachel. Her mouth tightens against the pain, and she struggles to speak.
"Hey... appreciate the worry, but I'm going to be okay..." Rachel says, then begins to stroll away, entering the tangled forest, ignoring Jordan's protests, and unable to hear Katie anymore.

The going was fairly easy at first. The brush and trees provided few obstacles to her progress, which is aided by the dryness of the ground. But that changed the closer she got to the swamp.
The transformation is gradual. The trees changed to a stronger mix of cyprus draped in moss. Kudzu and other plant growth becomes thicker, constantly tugging at Rachel's legs as she fights her way through. Her ankle high hiking boots are becoming wet, as the ground gets soggy.
"Augh!"
Rachel breaks through a heavy curtain of reeds and grasses to suddenly plunge waist deep in brackish, green scummed water. Beneath, she feels the gummy mud suck hard on her feet.
Cursing, she twists around to grasp handfuls of grass and manages to haul herself out of the water. Soaked to the skin, her boots coated with black slime, she sighs deeply.
I think I found the swamp...

"I don't believe it..." Jordan says after Rachel is out of sight. "She left us... just freaking left us..."
He begins dialing, hoping to connect with someone who can help them. Katie has slipped back into a semi-doze, mumbling.
"I knew it was a mistake to let her join us... damn glory hound..."
"No... please... don't... don't... don't do that!"
Katie's voice comes through so clearly, so suddenly that Jordan starts, nearly dropping the cell phone.
"I'm trying to call for help, Katie..." he says gently. "Just try to hang in there..."
"Oh... oh... God.... oh... not that way! Please!"
The fear in her eyes, which have snapped wide open, gives him pause, and he reaches over to hold her hand. Their eyes lock, then she seems to relax.
"It's going to be okay... we'll be okay..." Jordan says softly, hearing the phone ring clearly through the receiver.
Katie then smiles, a sad, thin pursing of her lips.
"I know..." she says. "She told me so..."
Jordan looks at her quizzically, unsure if he heard her right.
"She? Who's she?" but before he can get an answer, the phone chirps to life, a voice at the other end asking what was the nature of their emergency.
He quickly begins speaking, trying to describe where they are and how badly they were both hurt. So occupied with the call, he doesn't notice Katie's expression, a calm, sad look unlike the earlier frantic ones. It is the look of one who accepts that her fate and others she knows about is out of her hands.
Jordan also doesn't hear her answer to his question.
"The one who ran out across the road... the smoke woman..."

Dammit!
Rachel glares at the compass, lit under the yellow glow of her small penlight. For some reason, it now refuses to give a proper bearing. Instead, the needle wavers everywhere, a constant trembling which makes it hard to tell if she is on the right track any more. Several times, she even caught it spinning in place.
She has been following a bearing for several hours now, taking many long detours around wide swaths of open water and treacherous looking muddy ground, but was always able to make her way back onto her track.
Somehow, though, with all of her backtracking and long treks around slimy lagoons and bog holes, she has been nudged off of her bearing, and combined with a cranky compass, has to admit to herself she frankly didn't know where she is anymore.
Many times she had been on the verge of turning around and heading back to the main road, but something kept persuading her to keep on going. Now, she senses it is too late to do anything but push on.

The sun has long since vanished. A full moon has risen to replace the twilight, casting the tangled wetland in a harsh cold glow, yet the air remains warm. The lack of mosquitoes strikes her as exceedingly odd, as does the atmosphere, which feels... alive... somehow.
When Rachel begins to feel the hair standing up on her arms and the back to her neck, her concerns become replaced with excitement. She reaches into her ruck sack and extracts the small handheld video camera. It was an older model, but is well equipped for low light shooting.
Quickly, she unfolds the small viewscreen from the camera body like a wing. Her right hand is shaking badly, but she wills herself to stop it.
I can do this... I can do this... Rachel thinks. While wishing she had more gear to properly record what she suspects will happen, she knows if she can capture something of the Dusk Maiden on camera, she will have it made.
And I can finally shed that dead weight, she thinks coldly, images of Katie and Jordan flickering past her mind's eye. I've learned all I can from those two... so why should I share the fame?
Something moves.
Rachel feels an electric chill tremble through her, and for a moment she cannot move a muscle. She couldn't see it at first... it is more of an impression of movement, a thickening of shadows among the cypress trees.
Then...
Something roils and seethes, just shy of the columns of moonlight filtering through the trees. It is a shapeless mass, constantly shifting like a cloud of insects or smoke, and as she watches, it slowly takes form...
Oh... God... Rachel thinks, and manages to press the screen where the "on" icon rests. She raises the camera, staring at the view screen, barely hearing the quiet buzz of the lens zooming in as it tries to lock focus on the sight.
The dark cloud coalesces into a tall form, and Rachel notices it is definitely feminine, with distinctive curves to its torso. Long hair made of the same smoky material spills from its head, and she can distinguish a pair of dark eyes, more like holes, within a softly defined impression of a face. The edges of the being flicker and drift apart, as if it is made of vapor, and yet no light shines through it, proving it has a solid mass of some sort.
Rachel's instincts are torn. Part of her is shrieking to run away, the rest to cringe behind a tree and hopes it goes away. Instead, she continues to record the entity, despite the terror which has seized her completely.
When its eyes lock onto hers - Oh God! It can see me! - Rachel is riveted to the spot, struggling to breathe, but keeps recording the Dusk Maiden as it approaches... ghostly skeletal limbs outstretched towards her, as if seeking her warm flesh to dig deep into...
Rachel stands her ground, and despite shaking violently, manages somehow to steady the camera. The apparition stops just shy of touching her, and waits, its expression somehow soft yet sinister at the same time. It cocks its head to one side, as if looking at her curiously. Its eyes blink.
Jesus... she thinks, trembling, her innards ice. Still, Rachel's thoughts are also mentally going over the footage she is recording. This is going to be dynamite... freaking dynamite!
"Um... attempting contact with the legendary Dusk Maiden of Dark Water Swamp..." Rachel manages to croak out for the benefit of the built-in mike. Her mind goes blank as to the date and time, but hoped the time code in the footage would record that.
"A... Adrienne... that is your name, right?"
The ghost reacts, retreating about two feet. Its eye holes narrow, the face seems to harden. Rachel shivers. Did I just piss it off? Crap...
What could it do if it is mad? Not something I really want to find out, she thinks... but continues to press anyway.
"You are Adrienne... correct? You died in this swamp a couple hundred years ago... right?"
The apparition keeps looking at her intently, even as it drifts further away. Emboldened, Rachel begins to follow it, keeping the camera running and locked on the subject.
"Come back, you!" she shouts at the spirit, then bites her lower lip. What the hell am I doing?
Surprisingly, the ghost stops. Its eyes remain narrow, but the flash of anger she had felt before seems to have faded.
"I just want to talk to you..." Rachel says, continuing to step forward... until she finds she can't move her feet anymore.

Puzzled, she looks down. Both her boots are gone, enveloped by dark mud, which encircles her shins, pressing her wet jeans against her skin. Glancing around, she finds herself stuck out in the middle of a muddy clearing, which she has somehow wandered into.
Grassy clumps are scattered about its mottled surface, which glitters with a handful of shallow puddles. Rachel looks over to the ghost, which hovers nearby. Maybe I'm mistaken, she thinks, but I swear that thing is smirking at me...
"Very funny..." she says out loud, and tries to extract her right foot from the muck. She strains, still hanging onto the camera, shifting her weight to her left leg as she rocks in place. Her foot remains stuck, the mud acting as a viscous jelly, sucking hard on her like a leech.
"Oh, crap!"
Rachel cries out as her left leg suddenly plunges downwards past her knee, as the mud gives way under the pressure. Out of reflex, she shifts over to her right side to maintain her balance, only to sink her right leg to the same depth.
The mud quivers around her in response to her movements, and Rachel notices with some alarm how the puddles rapidly vanish into the swampy terrain. She senses the mire gradually drawing her down deeper with each passing moment. In no time at all, she has settled to her thighs, the muck holding her firmly in its soft grip.
What the hell is this stuff? There doesn't seem to be an end to it...
A nasty thought runs through Rachel, and it chills her to the bone. Could this be quicksand? Or something like it?
"Oh, God..." she utters, all too aware of how it is now pressing against her crotch and cupping her butt. The mud shudders and burbles, trapped gases rising as she descends.
Looking at the ghost, she now realizes what likely happened to Adrienne...
Rachel looks around frantically, even as she feels her hips slip under. The whole area shakes and wobbles in time with her struggles, and she is astonished how something could be so loose and soft, yet remain thick and sticky... a deadly trap from which there is no escape.
Desperate, Rachel wiggles out of her ruck sack, while trying to hang onto the camera... She stretches her left arm out, the pack hanging from her hand, and flings it... Somehow, one of the straps slaps her right hand, knocking the camera out of it...
"No!"
The device vanishes into the churning mud in an instant, and a soggy slapping sound indicates her ruck sack will suffer the same fate, falling short of what she had hoped was solid ground. Her motions have driven her past her waist in the dark slime, which presses against her like rubbery, hungry lips.

"Oh, Jesus..." Rachel exclaims. She is sinking fast, the mud eagerly sucking her down. It works its way under her shirt, slathering her tight belly with gritty grime, and she feels it licking its way up her torso...
"Help! Someone! Help me!"
Rachel knows there is no one close to hear her cries... no one alive anyway... yet she cannot help it. The terror of being swallowed alive by the swamp overwhelms her knowledge of how futile her cries are.
Her ribs slip under a pair at a time. She feels the mud rise upwards as she keeps slipping downwards. Her eyes spot a log, half sunk in the mire in the distance, several crooked branches splayed from its trunk. There is no way she can reach it... it lies a few yards away... yet in a panic she finds herself lunging towards it, her arms slapping and digging sloppy trenches into the deadly muck, forcing the sodden ground around her to churn and buck... anything rather than simply wait for the inevitable.
"God! Please... help me!"
Rachel's breasts jiggle as they press through the t-shirt into the mud. Her flailing isn't helping her move forward, but instead it drives her deeper... deeper into the shuddering slime.
Crap.... crap! Her eyes lock on the closest branch. I need more reach... more reach... Her muddy hands touch her shirt, which is half soaked with grime.
Of all the times I didn't wear a bra... she thinks, then smiles grimly. Not that there's any out here to see... beyond her... She quickly glances over to the apparition, which has remained in place, watching carefully.
Hope you are enjoying the show... Rachel thinks coldly, then peels off the shirt, freeing her breasts. They slap against the tepid mud, becoming bespeckled in wet dirt.
Gritting her teeth, she strains forward, feeling a ridge of muck form in front of her. Gripping the shirt in her right hand, she flings it forward, trying to snag the branch with the free end. She grunts and screams with effort, fighting against the heavy grip of the mire as she tries again... and again... and again... only to see the shirt fall short each time, landing atop the quaking bog.
"Dammit!"
In frustration, Rachel flings her shirt at the log, and shakes her head as it strikes the branch and hangs off it limply, a good yard and a half out of reach, as if mocking her.
"Well, fuck... fuck me..." she says. Her breasts are now half submerged in the ooze, reduced to a pair of mud-splattered domes rising out of the muck. Her arms are half sunk as they press into the thickening surface, in a vain attempt to try and hold herself up.

If I keep still... maybe... maybe...
Rachel feels the mud shuddering around her, and senses it drawing her down, pulling on her trapped body. Her descent may have slowed, but it hasn't stopped... already, her cleavage fills with lukewarm mud as it slops over her breasts and oozes its way over her shoulder blades, licking her back as it rises.
"No... no... oh, no..."
She finds herself whimpering out loud, her eyes watering. I'm going to die... I'm going to be swallowed by this shit and drown and no one will ever find me... or know what happened...
Looking around slowly, she spots the ghost drifting nearby. It has gotten a lot closer to Rachel, and is now resting atop the sunken log, a feminine mass of dark gray smoke, watching her intently.
Anger overcomes her fear and despair and she shouts at the spirit.
"I hope you're happy!" she screams, as the rest of her chest is swallowed by the quagmire. Only her head and shoulders remain above the constantly seething surface. Her arms have already surrendered, sliding under as her strength gives out from the strain of keeping them up.
There is no response from the Dusk Maiden, although Rachel does notice its eyes have widened a bit, as if relaxed. No... not relaxed... satisfied.
"You bitch..." she hisses. The mud has sluggishly flowed over the tops of her shoulders as they slip under, and it begins to surround her neck.
When it presses under her chin and fills her ears, Rachel wonders again why this is happening to her. Why do I deserve this horrible fate? Then Jordan's words come back to her about powerful forces at work, and she has to admit to herself maybe there is something to that.
Guess I never was a fast learner... she thinks, a few tears trickling down her cheeks. Guess it is too late now....
"I'm sorry..." she says quietly to the apparition, the mud at her lower lip. The ghost's expression softens, looking as if it is pitying her now, but unable to intervene. Strangely, Rachel gets the feeling that while she wasn't getting out of this alive, she will be spared the Maiden's fate of being forced to haunt the swamp.
"I'm so sorr.... mmmph!"

The Dusk Maiden watches quietly as Rachel sinks out of sight. The mud covers her mouth and stops up her nose, bubbling fiercely as the last of her breath boils on the surface. Her eyes are wide and pleading at first, then relax as if accepting her end. They close moments before the mud covers them over...
The ghost continues its vigil as the top of Rachel's head disappears beneath a shallow dent in the quaking muck, which fills in, leaving behind a thick swirl of mud and water in its wake. It keeps watch as the mud churns and wobbles, then slowly stills, a few bubbles rising, then fading away.
Then, with neither sigh or groan, the ghost dissipates into a swarm of particles, then vanishes from sight,

"She'll be fine..."
Jordan sighs with relief. From his wheelchair, leg smothered in a cast, he watches Katie sleep in the hospital bed as the doctor stands beside her, reading the medical chart.
It had taken several hours for the ambulance and police to reach the crash site, which was a minor miracle in itself considering how remote they were. As he had feared, Katie had internal injuries, but fortunately the bleeding was kept to a minimum.
"Lucky lady..." the doctor says. "Frankly, I'm amazed she survived... and you. You two must have had someone watching over you..."
Jordan only nods in her direction. An hour previous, he had been interviewed by police officers about the whereabouts of Rachel. So far, no sign of her has been found, despite the efforts of search parties.
"Nasty terrain there..." one officer said in passing. "Hope she doesn't get in over her head..."
You and me both... Jordan thinks. But deep down, he doubts anyone will ever see her again.

[Rusty Shackleford]

Very enjoyable, thank you! Nice supernatural story that's out of the ordinary.

Rusty

[water_bug_62208]

An outstanding story! Your story-writing skills are most impressive and your attention to detail fantastic! Your way of writing allows us to visualize the action as well as feel what's going on... it's like we're right there with Rachel. Love the foreshadowing of Rachel's boots getting caught up in the gummy mud when she stumbled into the water earlier in the story.

Your character development of Rachel was beautiful... she starts out an everyday person whose ambitions get the best of her, turning her into a self-centered, fame-seeking antagonist. Love the description of the ghost and loved your detailed description of it's form and emotional reactions towards Rachel.

Your description of the quicksand scene was great... subtle at first with Rachel struggling to free her stuck feet followed by the ooze abruptly giving way and slowly taking her to her knees. Definitely an outstanding story for Halloween!

Thanks for sharing!

[nachtjaeger]

Good one! Thanks!