Spectre Detective Agency (BEING REWRITTEN)

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

"I don't like this house at all," Peter said as he held the flashlight out in front of him.

I glanced over my shoulder. "Well, by the sounds of it, no one does," I replied softly.

The house looked like every other wrecked abandoned place we'd been to. They were tagged, dusty, full of cobwebs, and smelled of rust and mould. The walls were cracked and crumbling, and the floor squeaked beneath our feet.

"What did the article say about this place?" Peter asked as he slowly opened a door to check inside.

"In the late eighteenth century, this house was used as a brothel, but that sooned closed down after one of the girls was found stabbed to death," I said just as the roof above us squeaked.

We both looked up.

"After that, a rich young man brought it for his new family, but the day they moved in, his wife was pushed down the stairs and killed from the injury," I added.

Peter shuddered.

"He moved back to his original house and sold the house to another man in politics, he was rumoured to dabble in dark magic and held orgies here, the website says that when the man moved in, a grand total of eight woman disappeared from the town." I said as I noticed a shadow walk by the window.

"The man was trialled and convicted as a witch, he was hung from the tree behind the house, but the website says you can hear his chants and the screams of the women he kidnapped and killed." I added.

Peter stopped moving.

"So it was a wrongful death situation? That's what we're dealing with?" Peter asked.

I felt something cold touch my arm, and I spun around, lifting my knife.

"Help me,"

The voice came from in front of me, but I saw no one. Thankfully, this was my job.

"How can I help you?" I asked the air.

Peter turned his head to watch me.

"You have to leave -" The voice continued, "he's coming!"

It was like a whisper yell in my ear, and I flinched.

"Pete -" I began to say before suddenly I was pulled back, and I went flying through the air, smashing through an ancient wall.

"Mariam!" Peter yelled as he darted forward.

It was like he hit a brick wall, an invisible brick wall, and he was pushed back. Peter rolled across the ground before finishing on his feet and raising the pistol he'd taken from his waistband.

Groaning, I got to my feet and grabbed my knife tighter.

"Show yourself!" I ordered.

Instead of the usual flickering of a body apparition, we got laughter that circulated us like a tornado.

"Come on, you coward!" Peter snapped.

In reply, the ghost seemed to toss him to the other side of the room. Pulling a packet from my pocket, I ripped it open.

"I said, show yourself!" I yelled as I threw the contents of the packet into the air.

The graveyard ash fell through the air, but some fell onto what seemed like the top of a head and shoulders just in front of me.

"Clever!" The ghost hissed.

"But not clever enough," the ghost added.

He headed for me before disappearing into a cloud of sulphur and smoke, causing me to cough and cover my eyes.