All Chapters of Haunter: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Over lunch, Amy asked the Blotters a lot of questions about their plane or dimension, and how they perceived the world of the living. With two TTS and two speaking apps, the conversation with them flowed better than ever. I left her chattering with the Blotters at the table to clean the kitchen. I was just about to finish when we heard a thud from the basement. Amy turned to me, suddenly apprehensive.“That’s the shadow,” I said, nodding. “It surely sensed you. I told it about you, and bet it can’t wait anymore to meet you.”“You told it? It’s conscious?”“Conscious and intelligent,” Edward replied.“Okay, let me grab a few things,” she said, and hurried to grab her bag from the east parlor.I opened the basement door and stuck my head in. “Coming, Kujo! Just a minute!”Amy came back with a fat white candle, a funny rosary and a small glass bot

After Amy left, the Manor felt quiet and empty for a while. I loved living with the Blotters, but only now I realized I’d been missing some regular human company as well. Especially someone like Amy, who didn’t force me to hide what was actually going on in my life. I took a longer jog that day, and spent a long while playing the guitar, not at the east parlor, but in my room. The Blotters respected my need for solitude and didn’t give any sign of their presence, save the usual little noises.The next morning, a glance at the calendar was enough for me to understand why I felt so down and lonely. The anniversary of Mom’s death was around the corner, but it’d never been about just that day. After years of fighting a lost battle against the cancer that kept coming back, she’d spent her last days in the hospital, drowned in morphine and still in excruciating pain. The day she’d passed hadn’t been anywhere near as bad, because it ha

That conference call was like the little push on the small of your back when you’re sitting on top of a big tall slide. Before I could catch my breath and process the situation, I was gliding down and there was nothing I could do to stop or at least slow down.I called Trisha before going to sleep, and I was forced to move the phone away from my ear until she was done with her happy cries and exclamations.“How long do you need me to stay?”“Three days?”“Didn’t you say the Haunters are staying five?”“Yeah, but—”“Then I’m staying at least six.”“You can’t call in sick for six days straight, Trish!”“Oh, didn’t I tell you I quit? Yeah, I was sick and tired of that groper son of a bitch. I have a couple of interviews scheduled, but they’re over Zoom, so I don’t need to be in town for them.&rdquo

Amy spent about an hour in the basement. When she came back up, she nodded with a tired smile when I offered her coffee and sat down at the table with a long sigh. “Pennhurst Asylum,” she said, and she did sound exhausted. “That’s where Price picked it up.” I rummaged the pantry for more cupcakes and was lucky to find one last tray. I needed to tell Susan to get a dozen more for the weekend, or I would suffer withdrawal symptoms. “Did he tell you anything else?” I asked, bringing her coffee and the cupcakes to the table. Trisha sat down opposite her. Amy raised her eyebrows, like gathering her thoughts through the fog of exhaustion in her head. “He was born there when the asylum was still open, and remained there after the courts closed it. Plenty of bad vibes around to feast on for centuries. He’d never paid attention to the living until our lovely Haunter came around. Looks like he started calling on any and all entities around. He invited them to use his and his teammates’ ener

“Your meds, Mr. Price?” asked Amy from the fireplace. She couldn’t have faked a smile at him even if her life depended on it. He turned to her, frowning. “Come again?” “I need your meds.” “I need them back by noon to take them.” Amy held his eyes for a heartbeat and turned to me. “The bag, Fran, please?” I hurried across the room to give it to her. And stayed as close to the heater as I could without falling into the fireplace. Man, I loved to feel the flames after being outside on such a cold morning. Price breathed deep, annoyed. His voice thundered across the whole house. “Isaac! Our prescriptions!” The wingman trotted down the stairs like an obedient poodle a moment later, carrying a belt pouch overflowing with pill bottles. He handed it out to Price, who nodded to Amy. “Let’s go one by one,” she said, taking out a bunch of small glass dropper bottles from her bag and lining them up on the mantelpiece. The wing— Enough of calling him that. Isaac grabbed a random orange bot