Ghostly (Ian Hecox)

Chapter 4 - Theory #27

Using my trusty flashlight, I look around the mysterious third floor. To my left and facing the forest in the backyard are six rectangular windows that go from the floor to the ceiling. You can barely see through them because of the years of built up dust and cobwebs on them. By the windows are small couches of a floral pattern. To my right, are bookshelves, scattered papers, a desk with more papers randomly on it and a medium sized window that showed the front yard.

"It looks like an old library.." I said slowly to my Aunty which quickly joined me after I went up to the third floor. "Or perhaps an old office of some kind." I suggest.

"Well Eleanor, this has been quite exciting." She pauses to yawn. "But I am going to bed. Goodnight." She says and walks down the staircase.

"Goodnight Aunty Carol!" I yell but she doesn't reply.

I look around for a light switch. Even though no one has lived in this house for decades, the rest of the house had electricity so I don't see why this room wouldn't. I finally find the switch near the door. As the light slowly turns on, most likely because of its absence of usage for so long, I can finally see the entire room, head to toe. It's gorgeous. Wood paneling covers the walls and the odd stone accents make this a beautiful room.

"Where do I start?" After looking around the room, the desk was the smartest place to start. I picked up the loose document on the top of the desk.
I started reading out loud.

"Theory #27. Date: August 7th 1942. Suspect: Stephan Hecox.
Stephan did not want his son Ian to inherit the rights to Hecox Inc. Some possible reason(s) are as follow:
-Does not want him to have that much power.
-He is not the right choice for the company.
-Unable to run company.
-Afraid he would become greedy and power hungry.
Reason(s) for not presenting this theory to The Court of Sacramento are as follows:
-Not enough evidence.
-Theory is not strong enough.
-No evidence tying Stephan to the murder.
-Stephan has an alibi for that night. Whether reliable or trustworthy is questionable."

I laid back in my chair for awhile. Someone was writing down theories as to who killed Ian Hecox. I look at the bottom of the page for a signature. There is faint writing was the name Anthony Padilla. Who was Anthony? A family member? A friend? This was only one theory out of 27 or more. I had to keep reading.

I spent the next two hours reading all 42 theories about what happened that cold September night back in 1937. Possible suspects ranged from greedy family members to jealous close friends. Every theory was a good one with a decent explanation and suspicion. But every theory did have its reasons why is wasn't a strong enough case.

I yawned and turned around to go to bed but I stumbled backwards when I noticed an average height man, with medium brown hair swooped back, wearing an old style looking suit standing in the doorway.

"Who are you?" I practically yelled. The first explanation that came to mind was that my eyes are playing tricks on me.

"Well, I'm the boy you've been reading so much about, darling." He was cocky and when he spoke, he spoke smoothly and slow.

"You can't be. That boy is dead." I declared and he gave me a strange look that I couldn't read.

"Good job Sherlock. You've solved the mystery!" He exclaimed. "But I'm going to let you in on a little secret.." He paused for dramatic effect. "The best people, never truly stay dead." He winked at me as he walked closer towards me. He stopped two feet away from me. He was a ghostly pale and the air suddenly got very cold. I thought I was going to be sick.

"I've never had a hallucination like this before." I put my hand on the forehead and started to walk to my bedroom downstairs.

"Darling, this is no hallucination." He said cockily. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him.

"Oh no? Then what are you?" I asked and his expression changed from joking to serious.

"I'm a ghost." He said, have a small pause between each word.

I laughed. "A ghost? Oh yeah and I'm Rihanna!" I joked but he gave me a confused look.

"Who's Rihanna?" He asked and I laughed.

"So you're a ghost huh? Prove it to me! Walk through the wall over there!" I pointed behind him and he gave me a look that said 'you must be joking.'

"It doesn't work like that." He sighed. Every time he got more discouraged, my confidence grew considerably.

"Then prove it to me that you're a ghost." Having hallucinations at 5 in the morning is fun. I wish they would happen more often.

He gave me a mysterious and almost dangerous kind of look. He slowly reached his arm out in my direction and extended his hand towards me. "Touch me." He said darkly.

I slowly reached out and touched two of my fingers lightly to his hand. As soon as our skin touched, it sent chills and electric shocks right up my arm. I only felt it for a few seconds before I pulled back.

"What are you..?" I asked, dragging out my sentence.

"I told you." He said with an almost angry or annoyed tone. "My name is Ian Hecox. I was murdered September 29th, 1937. Since that late fall night, my soul has been trapped here and I am unable to leave. My case is still unsolved to this day and I can't leave this property until my soul is put to rest." He said and I was frozen in shock.

"It was your destiny to meet me here Eleanor. I've known it for years and so have you deep down. My soul needs to be put to rest. Now, are you going to help me or not?"