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Grasping Emma's arm, Mia leaned in to speak. "There's a woman standing in the window on the second floor. She looks like she's wearing a high-collared gown of some sort, and resembles Catherine Belligham." She pointed to the east wing of the Manor and said, "Can you see her?"

"Yes, I do! But how is that possible? The rest of the house is black, yet she appears to be glowing. It takes energy to be able to manifest like that. What could be the source?"

"I don't have an answer for that, but if you want to get a picture, I'd suggest you hurry."

"Tell the ghost to stay put," Emma quipped, then rushed from the van, slamming the door in her wake.

**********

Bellingham Manor, February 7, 2010.

Emma rummaged through the surveillance equipment piled in the rear of the van. Dammit, where is that camera case? I'm losing precious seconds.

She searched for the bag's familiar outline, and panicked when it seemed they'd left it behind in Bangor. Pulling off her gloves, Emma forced herself to slow down. On a second sweep, she found it.

Resting the bag on the lip of the trunk, she retrieved the camera. It was an older print film style that'd belonged to her grandfather--a famous paranormal investigator--and was heavier than most. She thought about grabbing an extra lens, but her mind said to leave it. The lens will add weight, and I don't have time to set up a tripod.

A half-moon, restrained by heavy clouds, provided negligible ambient light. The headlights of the van illuminated the courtyard, but the direction of its beams offered little help. I'll use flash and pray it makes a difference. She realized the weight of the camera might cause picture blurring. The risk is worth it if I capture a ghost on film.

Emma focused her lens on the upstairs window. Thank you, God! She's still there. She snapped pictures in a rapid-fire stream, managing to get a dozen shots before her equipment went dead. Dropping to her knees, she examined the camera--the battery was fried. What the heck? I know I charged it before we left Bangor.

Her gaze flew upwards, and her mood dipped further. The window through which the woman had looked down upon the courtyard was as featureless and dark as the rest of the house. Emma scowled at the camera, as if doing so would urge it to re-group. Crap. I'll have to charge the battery back at the Inn, which means I won't know until tomorrow if I captured anything.

The moment's disappointment was replaced by a positive angle. Ghosts are notorious for draining the energy from electrical devices. That's evidence worth sharing with the client.

Emma stored the camera in its case and zipped it shut. She slung it over her shoulder and turned to face the huddled figures of Mike, Luke and Jim Norris where they conversed alongside Jim's SUV. He was a large, well-muscled man who towered over Mike and Luke. Doesn't look like someone who'd run from a ghost without good reason.

She itched to share her news with her fellow investigators but feared Jim might be weirded out even further. Draining a battery, though significant, was commonplace in hauntings. Jim, however, might view it as further proof of an aggressive presence. Best not take the chance. I'll tell the guys later when we're alone.

Emma hopped back into the car and turned toward Mia. "You won't believe what happened. My battery got drained! I was in the middle of..."

Mia's rigid spine and slack features cued Emma she was likely in an altered state. Whatever is up in that room has her in its grip, she thought.

Experience had taught her not to try to rouse Mia when she was under the influence of an invading spirit. She'd made that mistake once and would never forget the way Mia clawed at her hands. It'd taken her and Luke some minutes to restrain Mia until the invading spirit departed. Later, the medium apologized over and over for the incident.

Witnessing Mia's agony made the rest of the team protective of their gentle friend. Mike insisted they all get up to speed on Mia's abilities and the best way to work with them. After that episode, Emma made sure to have a digital voice recorder handy during their investigations.

She slipped her hand into her pocket and was relieved to discover the DVR. Emma clicked it on, and in a calm voice urged, "Mia, describe what you're seeing."

                              ******

"The surface I'm walking is packed down dirt. Surrounding me are the sides of a tunnel. The air is thick, and it's very hot in here--I feel like I'm walking in a direct line to hell." Mia flinches and stops speaking for several seconds. "Yuck, a rat just ran in front of me." Her breathing increases and her eyes move back and forth as if searching the floor of the tunnel. Her chin bobs upward, and she says, "I hear a man shouting. Wait, the tunnel opens up into a large chamber ahead." Pressing her fingers to her temple, she adds, "I don't want to look, but I know I'm here to be a witness."

Her voice tight and low, Mia pushes forward. "I see a pedestal in the center of the room. It's granite, I think and stands waist high. There are streaks down its sides and a pool at its base. There's a foul odor in the air, and I think it's coming from that pool." Her voice drops to a whisper. "It smells like putrefying flesh."

Mia's body convulses in a drawn out shiver. "A naked woman is chained, spread eagle, across the flat top. She's dying--I see her spirit hovering above, attached by a thin silver cord."

"A robed figure stands over her. The top half of his face is hidden by a cowl, but I know who he is. It's Charles Bellingham, and he's swinging a knife covered with red chunks." Mia's arm goes up as if she is warding off a marauding bird. "He's slicing into the woman's belly and screaming, 'Where does the whore go to meet him!?"

'Stay away from the Lakehouse, Catherine,'  the woman yells. "She's out of her mind with pain. Her poor body can't take any more assaults."

Swallowing hard, Mia continues, "I hear the woman's death rattle now. Her head falls back--her eyes are open and staring--but her spirit won't leave.
I want to help her understand it's okay to leave, but Bellingham is looking at me now. God help me, his eyes--I can't bear looking at them. They're lidless and black, and there's nothing human about them. He's speaking to me, and I'm drawn to him against my will."

"Come now, my dear Mia. Your talents are being wasted on this nonsense. I can teach you how to use them to gain real power."

"My limbs feel heavy the closer he gets. I have to end this now: You have no power over me, Charles Bellingham. In Jesus name, and by the power of his abiding love, I banish you!"

                              ******

Slumping backward into the seat, Mia exhaled with force. Her eyes fluttered open. Emma placed a bottle of water in her hands, and Mia downed its contents in several gulps.

Both women remained silent as the Medium struggled to orient herself to the present. Finally, in a voice thick with fatigue, she said, "I saw the murder of Catherine Bellingham's maid. Charles took her to a secret chamber beneath his house. He chained her to a pedestal and tortured her until she revealed the location of his wife and her lover's trysts." Mia wiped an errant tear from her cheek. "The worst part is that I could see that her spirit did not cross over."

She twisted her body to face Emma. "Mike needs to confer with Father Steven as soon as possible. I believe Charles Bellingham was a Satanist, and we're dealing with extremely potent, demonic energy."



~~ to be continued~~