Ghost Seekers The Three Ladies

I was ecstatic when I found out the television show 'Ghost Seekers' picked me to be their new paranormal investigator. I had submitted my application almost a year earlier and had all but given up hope. I knew that I had many things going against me. I had just recently turned nineteen, would be the only woman on the show, and had no experience as a paranormal investigator. Still, I hoped to land what was more than a job to me, as the paranormal was an important part of my life.

My name is Kim, and it all started when I was nine years old. My family had recently moved to a large, older house in Michigan. My brothers were all at least three years older than me, so I spent most of my time playing alone. It was during these lonely hours that I would hear strange noises and faint laughter as I played in the halls and rooms of the old house. I was curious, but never frightened as I tried to find the source of the disturbances. I told my mother what I heard, but she only smiled, thinking that I was just playing a game.

The voices and sounds continued for years, and I grew to accept them. It was clear that no one else in my family could hear the disturbances or they simply didn't talk about it. The voices and feeling of having a companion comforted me during my young years. Though I had no proof, I felt that whoever this spirit was, it was a boy. I didn't feel him when my family was around, but I could feel his presence like a warm glow when they left.

Everything was fine until one day when I was fourteen years old. My house was in a rural area, so I rarely had friends over to visit. Those that did come by were always girls, and during those times my friend did not leave, but I could feel less of his warm energy. It was a cool fall day when I came home from school, and I wasn't alone. Tommy, one of the boys from my class walked me home. It was a long walk from school, but he told me that he didn't mind. We had become friends the previous year but he went to camp during the summer. I never expected him to think about me over the break, but he did, and even brought me presents that he made for me during camp.

I wasn't thinking as he walked me to the front door, and was only dimly aware of the usual, comforting warmth I felt as I stood on the porch. My friend was there, but I was only thinking of Tommy. He surprised me by asking if I would go with him to the upcoming school dance and I blushed furiously as I accepted. I was still blushing when he leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss. I would like to say that I kissed him back, but I was too excited by my first kiss to remember.

That evening, Tommy and the feel of his lips against mine preoccupied me. I was oblivious to everything as I finished my homework and went to bed, childlike visions of my first love flitting through my mind. I was so self-absorbed that I had forgotten about my unseen friend. I had forgotten him, and he wasn't happy about it.

I awoke near midnight to uncomfortable warmth. I kicked my covers off, but was still too warm. I finally sat up; fully awake and confused about why I would be so hot on a fall night. I jumped when I saw the figure standing at the foot of my bed. I knew at once that this was my, until now, unseen friend. He seemed solid, but was more shadow than substance. He stood looking at me, and moved like he was crying.

In all the years we lived in the house, my friend never appeared. He had always been my silent comfort. Now, he was in distress but I didn't know why. I wanted to comfort him but I wasn't sure what to do. When I began to slide out of the bed, he moved away. His shadowy form become lighter, like a smoke thinning on the wind. I stopped as he looked at me, and I could feel his tears as he shook his head. I didn't understand until I spied a patch of brown clutched in his shadowy hand.

He was holding a leather wallet, one of the presents Tommy had given to me. I watched as he looked at it, his head shaking slowly from side to side. He was upset that I met another boy. My heart was twisting because he was so hurt, and I rushed toward him, but only embraced a warm darkness that disappeared as the wallet dropped softly to the floor.

I never felt the warmth of my friend again, no matter how many hours of solitude I spent in the old house. Tommy turned out to be my first love, and though we remained friends, he was not my last. Still, I never forgot my friend and my relationship with him. It left me curious about the unearthly people that we can't see. There isn't much work for paranormal investigators, so I couldn't write fast enough when the Ghost Seekers television show advertised that they were looking for new members. I sent a resume and a short description of my paranormal experience, knowing that it was a long shot they would pick me.

I screamed like a schoolgirl after I hung up the phone. The lead investigator of the show was eager to meet me. It was Thursday afternoon, and he invited me to join the team in investigating two houses that weekend. I told my parents the good news, to which my mother gave me her usual smile. It wasn't the career they envisioned for their daughter, but they were happy that I was pursuing my dream. I ran around like a dervish, packing my bags and preparing to leave.

Don, the lead investigator, called me back and gave me the details for my flight. The show was paying my way to New Orleans, and I could pick up my tickets at the airport. He told me I would meet the rest of the team when I arrived. One of them would be my mentor until I was ready to investigate on my own. I couldn't stop smiling; I was finally going to confront the unknown.

I barely sat through the flight on Friday morning, as I could not help but anticipate what would happen on my first night as a paranormal investigator. I was an avid fan of the show and knew that they rarely came across any evidence to support the claims of ghostly activity. I found it most exciting when they found something they couldn't explain. Would I meet a person from the beyond?

Don met me at the airport, and my excitement turned to nervousness as I shook hands with the same man I had seen dozens of times on my television. It hit me like a cold wave. He was a television star and within a few hours I would be too. Now, I know one show doesn't make a person a star, but just being on television is enough to excite an average person.

The next few hours passed by in a blur as I met the rest of the team and received a quick tutorial on how the equipment worked. I would be using a small voice recorder to try to capture any sounds a spirit might make, as well as an EMF detector. The EMF detector could measure electromagnetic energy in the area: a possible side effect of a nearby spirit. I would partner with Bill, one of the experienced investigators. Bill would use a digital camcorder to try to capture any visual evidence.

I felt a bit rushed as Don whisked me through my orientation, but I was too excited to let it bother me. I soon found myself sitting in a black van heading down the streets of New Orleans to my first haunted house. The team made me feel right at home, as we swapped stories about our first encounters with the paranormal. It was during the ride that I received the bad news. Bill explained that this would probably be the last season for the Ghost Seekers program.

"The station managers and sponsors want us to produce proof of ghostly activity. They want photos and videos of ghosts, as if this is a Hollywood production." Bill snorted.

I couldn't believe it. I wanted this so badly, and now they were telling me it might not last. I must admit I was a bit deflated, but I quickly changed my attitude. If the show was going to end, I would get the most out of it that I could. My mother always said that I was hopelessly optimistic, and maybe it was true. The show never produced a clear picture of a spectral apparition, but perhaps tonight would be the first.

We were investigating a house located in the historic French Quarters of New Orleans. The place had a long and dark history dating back to the early 1900's when a young doctor of psychology practiced bizarre medical and sexual experiments. The current owner, Doctor James found not only the house, but also the work of the former owner to be fascinating. He described the doctors work as being revolutionary, but said that a dark side of the doctor destroyed his reputation.

The Doctor gave us a tour of the house, pointing out areas where most of the reported activity took place. I kept quiet and listened to every word he said, not wanting to miss any details. After climbing a steep set of stairs, we came to the attic. He explained that most of the old doctors equipment never left the house, and the attic was where the previous occupant did most of his work.

The attic was lofty and spacious, but it was the doctor's devices and furniture that gave everyone pause, including me. Various objects of restraint hung from the walls, as well as leather-covered benches of various shapes and sizes. What I can only describe as a wooden gynecology chair, equipped with leg brackets and leather cuffs, sat in the middle of the room. Doctor James explained that after moving in, unseen hands pushed him on many occasions. The physical assaults ended abruptly after a month or so, but he still heard voices and would see ghostly figures in the halls.

"Whatever happened to the doctor?" I asked while looking around the room.

"No one knows. Neighbors heard screaming late one evening, and when the police arrived they found three young women restrained in this room. They searched for the doctor but never found him. The police believe he fled the city." Doctor James told us.

"What happened to the women?" I asked.

"There were three women in all, immigrants from France, Italy and England. They never told what experiments the doctor performed. Stranger still, they bought the property once the city declared it vacant and put it up for sale. They lived here until they died, never marrying or having children. Rumor was they ran an exclusive brothel for the social elite." He explained.

I must admit the room was interesting. It's difficult to describe how an old room feels. This room with its devices was older than me. I could feel energy and a sense of activity that sent a shiver down my spine. If the walls of this room could talk, they would have spoken volumes.

Doctor James left us and we began setting up the equipment. The work took longer than it appeared on television. We ran hundreds of yards of cable, placing multiple cameras in every room, with the cables connecting to the control center in one of the vans. With the cameras set, Don gave me an EMF detector and voice recorder. Don assigned us our rooms, and I almost jumped with joy when he said that Bill and I would be investigating the attic.

I was soon in the attic, living out my dream of being a Ghost Seeker. Wouldn't it be great if I experienced an encounter my first night? The first thing we did was to take EMF readings around the room. My earlier instructions, as well as my experience at watching the show made the job a snap. I checked every inch of the room, reporting to Bill my findings. We both found it amazing, the EMF readings spiked anytime we came near any of the furniture or devices. We examined each carefully, and found that none of them used or were near a source of electricity. This was truly perplexing.

We continued our investigation by asking questions, hoping to catch any sounds with my electronic voice recorder. We didn't hear anything, but that was all right, the night was still young. A crackle on Bill's walkie-talkie broke the silence and startled me.

"Bill, we're not receiving the video feed from the room. Can you check the equipment?" Don asked through the squawking communicator.

Bill gave me his camcorder and then began checking the other cameras.

"Their running fine." He commented as he began tracing the cabling. He stepped out of the room for a few seconds before returning.

"The cameras are on, and the cables look fine. There must be a malfunction in recorder." Bill said into the walkie-talkie.

I had seen equipment failures happen during the show, so it didn't bother me. We still had the handheld camcorder as well as our voice recorder. It may not have worried me, but Don didn't like it.

"Bill, trace the lines all the way back to the truck. I switched out the feeds and there is nothing wrong with the recorder. Let our newbie do a little solo work." Don said, with a chuckle that held a hint of frustration.

"Will you be all right if I leave you alone?" Bill asked.

"Yeah, I don't frighten that easily." I told him.

"Okay, just call out on your walkie-talkie if you find yourself becoming scared. If you feel you can't handle it then just leave and come outside. You don't have anything to prove." He said to me, sounding just like my father.

I continued to examine the room once Bill left. I wasn't a woman of the world, but I wasn't innocent either. The doctors' furniture and tools were sexual in design, and I had hidden my interest in them while Bill was with me.

The gynecology chair in the middle of the room was the most intriguing. Instead of a full bench to lie down on, it had a slim backrest with a horseshoe shaped seat similar to that of a public toilet. When seated, it would leave its occupant fully exposed from underneath. A crank on either side could spread the leg stirrups wider, and the dangling leather restraints would hold a person's foot in place. As I examined the bench more closely, it did not surprise me to see a series of leather restraints positioned down the back of the backrest. I couldn't help but shiver, knowing there would be no chance of escape for anyone restrained in this diabolical piece of furniture.

The faint sound of metal clinking caught my ear, and I turned to scan the room. There were many metal instruments that hung from the walls, but one stood out from the rest. I trained the camcorder on the object and walked closer, all the while describing to the camera what I was seeing. I doubted this would make the edit, but I couldn't let it be.

The device was shiny and shaped like a modern dildo. Yeah, like I said I'm not innocent. It was sitting horizontally, balanced on two curved brackets, and I felt certain it was the object that made the noise. I zoomed in with the camcorder and gasped as the smooth cylinder rocked in its holder. I continued filming as it rocked back and forth, picking up speed and force until it rolled from its curved bracket. A metallic clang echoed through the room as the tube hit the floor. I continued to film as it rolled, eventually coming to an abrupt stop at my feet.

"Do you want me to look at this?" I asked aloud. I had seen the tube move deliberately and could not come up with a logical explanation of how it happened.

I took a deep breath and bent down to pick up the tube, finding it surprisingly warm. It was midfall and the room was cool, yet the smooth steel cylinder was as warm as if it had been lying in the summer sun. A soft click from across the room caught my attention. I turned to find the door to the room had closed, leaving me alone in the quiet attic, the only light coming from my flashlight.

I felt panic beginning to rise in my chest and forced it back down. I could run or call out for help on the walkie-talkie, but what would I gain? I had sought this contact and wanted to see it through.

"Who are you?" I said aloud. "Are you the doctor, or one of the women of the house?"

I stood so still and quiet that I could hear my own breath. I struggled to hear any response or any movement, but there was only silence. I forced myself to breathe as I resumed moving about the room. I wouldn't let anyone or anything scare me. I crossed the room, passing the insidious chair that sat in the middle, and felt a sudden flush of warmth against my back.

It was a kind of warmth I had not felt in years. I looked down at my hand, which was still clutching the metal tube, and realized that it shared that same type of warmth. I felt my heart hammering in my chest and the sound of my own blood pumping through my veins almost became a roar in my ears. I fought the fear and pushed it down. This could not be my old friend, so who was it and what did they want?

I gathered my strength and turned around slowly, prepared for whatever ghastly horror awaited. Only it was a young woman who greeted me. Her long black hair tumbled over olive-tanned skin and her eyes were a deep hazel brown. She wasn't a shadowy form like my friend had been. She was vivid and solid, belying her ghostly status. It was the little details that gave away her true nature. Her feet didn't touch the ground and her hairstyle was quite old. Besides, she stood naked before me. Her body was slim and her breasts were, small, firm and round like apples.

"Hello..." I said, not knowing what to do.

The young woman smiled at me but didn't say a word. I began to speak, but felt another pulse of warmth against my back. This was becoming more than I bargained for. I turned to find another young woman. She also had black hair but her eyes were dark as pitch. Her skin was fair, and her face was slim. As naked as the first ghost, I couldn't help but admire her smooth pale skin. Before I could speak, I felt even more warmth against my body.

I turned toward the sensation, not surprised to find a third woman. Her hair was brown and her eyes a piercing blue. Her naked body was curvaceous and her breasts large but firm against her chest. I realized that they must be the three women found by the police and who eventually bought the house.

I didn't want to be rude but couldn't resist raising the camcorder and trying to capture them on film. The trio didn't try to stop me as I focused on each of them in turn. I quickly felt silly and lowered the camera, sitting it down on a nearby bench, with the voice recorder and EMF detector that I had stashed in my pockets.

"Are you the three former owners of this house?" I asked, to which the three women nodded.

I was giddy with excitement. This was much more than I could have hoped for. More than Don or Bill could have hoped for! I had questions, but the three women had something else on their mind. I watched as the brown haired woman glided to the center of the room, stopping to stand by the chair. The pale skin woman followed, and I was so busy watching her that I didn't notice the other woman moving until she was close enough to touch me.

I flinched as she reached out to me, her hand softly caressing my cheek. Her hand was warm and softer than anything I had ever felt, as if a cloud coalesced into the form of a human being. It was oddly calming as her warm fingers brushed through my hair. I found that I couldn't move as she leaned towards me. Now I've said all along that I'm not innocent, but there are many things I've never tried. Kissing another woman is one of those uncharted territories.

I don't remember what was going through my mind as her lips touched mine, but I do remember the effect she had on me. Her lips were even softer than her hand and just as warm. It took a second for my brain to register the pillow-like sensation of her lips pressed against mine. I whimpered weakly as her tongue parted my lips and slipped into my mouth. She tasted like fresh strawberries and her tongue was smooth as velvet.

My ghostly partner pulled back, smiling at me as her hands slid down to my waist. I could barely breathe as she tugged my t-shirt up, and I lifted my arms as if in a trance while she pulled it over my head. Knowing she was a ghost eclipsed the fact that it was a woman undressing me. She slid her arms around me, and her body was warm and soothing as she unsnapped my bra, gently pulling it from my shoulders and dropping it to the floor.