Possessive

“Is this Jennifer Marshal?” Lauren’s research pointed her to several websites and psychics. Most of which proved bogus in their knowledge and credibility.

Although she evaded the ghost the night after Ethan brought her lunch, she did so by not allowing herself to sleep for longer than an hour at a time. According to one article, ghosts who visit in a dream state do so when R.E.M. sleep occurred. The problem however, is without those deep moments of slumber, Lauren woke tired and drained. Running on coffee and excitement about her date with Ethan would only last so long.

“This is Jennifer.” The cheerful voice sounded young. Not that Lauren thought her twenty-nine years were old, but if she had to guess, she’d say Jennifer was barely able to order a drink in a bar.

“My name is Lauren. I found you on the Internet.”

“Oh, yeah… Can you hold on for a second?”

Before Lauren could say yes, Jennifer barked over the line. “Mitsy, get down from there. You know better. Come here! Okay… I’m sorry, where were we?”

“My name is Lauren…”

“Yeah, you found me on the Internet. Got it. So, who’s bothering you, Lauren? A good ghost or a bad ghost?”

Taken back by Jennifer’s bold comment, Lauren stumbled on her answer. “A-a bad one, I think.”

“You think? You’re not sure?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Ah…”

“Mitsy, I said get down. Damn cat,” Jennifer scolded her pet. “I’m sorry, pets, you know.”

No, she didn’t. Lauren didn’t own any pets.

“Okay, so you think it’s a bad ghost.”

“Yes, and I haven’t seen him, I’ve only felt him.”

“Are you sure it’s a ‘him’?”

“Positive.” A chill shot up her spine. Even the frazzled pet owner on the line seemed to calm down. “He…ah, he’s getting inside my head, makes me think he’s touching me, like a man.”

Jennifer grew quiet. “You mean intimately?”

“God, I can’t believe I’m telling this to a stranger.” Lauren wanted to cry. Verbalizing what happened was an admission of some sort. Of what she couldn’t say. Wrong.

“Listen, Lauren, it isn’t common for ghosts to touch.

“He’s in my head. Like a dream. It’s hard to explain,” Lauren huffed out a breath in frustration.

“You don’t see his face?”

Lauren squeezed her eyes shut. “No,” she said barely above a whisper. “He appears to me as the image of a man I’ve recently started dating.”

“And you’re sure this isn’t just a dream, a fantasy.”

“Fantasies don’t end in cold rooms and terror racing through my head. I know when a ghost is around, Ms. Marshal. This one is getting stronger, bolder with every visit.”

Lauren wanted to add that she was scared out of her ever-lovin’ mind that the thing would actually manifest in some unearthly way and force himself on her.

After a long pause, Jennifer said, “If this is happening—”

“It is happening,” Lauren demanded.

“Since this is happening, you need to jump on getting rid of him as soon as possible.”

“I know that, but how? That’s why I’m calling you. I’ve never been involved with a ghost like this before. Most of them just want to find a loved one or find their way.”

“So seeing ghosts is a normal occurrence for you?” Jennifer didn’t sound accusatory or even doubtful, she sounded matter-of-fact about Lauren’s supernatural ability.

“Most days, yes,” Lauren said.

“Tell you what I’m going to do. I have a previous engagement tonight. I’ll come over first thing in the morning and see what we have. Then we’ll come up with a plan for getting rid of him.”

We? Why did she act as if this were her problem? “How much is this going to cost me?”

“Oh, honey. I don’t work that way. I charge for séances and palm reading, but getting rid of evil, no charge. We have enough living evil roaming our streets.”

Lauren laughed despite herself. She gave Jennifer her address and set a time to meet.

~~~~

Ethan and Lauren walked hand in hand down the boulevard in the theater district. Ethan had surprised her with two tickets to a repertory theatre where they put on A Street Car Named Desire.

“I’m not sure how they made Stella appear so hot.” Ethan reflected on the play on their way to the car.

“She did a fabulous job. How cold do you think it was in there?” The theatre Ethan picked had been built in the late 1800’s. Normally, Lauren limited her exposure to anything old. Ghosts often inhabited historic buildings, such as the one housing the small company of actors. With a furnace out of order, the draft from the dead grew frigid.

“I think it’s warmer out here, and that’s not saying much.”

Lauren laughed. “When the actress wiped the ice cube on her neck, I thought I was going to lose it.”

“That was funny. Half the audience gasped.”

Ethan opened her door before coming around to the driver seat. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“Of course I did. I’ll remember it every time I think I have frost bite.”

They both fell into laughter. “What should we do now?”

“Warm up.”

“What do you suggest?” Ethan lifted a brow and let his gaze slide down her body.

Lauren sent him a sly grin. “You’re bad.”

“We already determined that.”

“I was thinking hot chocolate. I have some at my place, if you don’t mind coming in for a while?”

Ethan made a show out of stroking his jaw. “Hmm, let me see…a beautiful woman inviting me into her home to warm up…? Okay, I’m in.”

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Lauren murmured. “Really bad.”

The hot chocolate was cozy, the conversation near perfect. As the hour neared one in the morning, Lauren tried hiding a yawn. The previous evening’s lack of sleep was catching up with her.

“I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“It is getting late.”

Lauren walked him to the door.

“Are you sure you’re warm enough? I can stay, and you can take advantage of me.”

Although her eyes were heavy with sleep, they opened wide. Her mouth formed into an ‘O’. “I, ahh…”

Ethan placed a finger to her lips. “I’m joking, Lauren. When I make love to you, I want you awake.” By now, Ethan had his arms around her waist. Lauren stared into his blue eyes.

“When?”

“Definitely a when.”

The clear desire, pouring from Ethan, surged excitement into her system. He lowered his lips to hers and took soft, sweet possession of her mouth. He tasted like chocolate and smelled like spice. The combination was heaven. His hands roamed over her back and along her hips enthusiastically enough to prove how much he held back.

She nearly told him not to leave, to stay and keep her warm. However, the unhurried pace Ethan was setting for their relationship felt right. It would make their union even more brilliant and cherished when the right time came.

Once Lauren’s lips swelled from his touch, he stopped kissing her. She smiled up at him and said, “Definitely a when.”

Ethan dropped his forehead on hers and groaned. “Why am I leaving again?”

“Because we’re both tired.”

“Right. Okay. I’m leaving now.” He kissed her one more time before walking out her door.

Lauren sighed and leaned against the closed door. “Next time, I’m not going to let you leave, Ethan Bailey.” Rubbing the chill from her arms, she made the rounds of the house, turning off all the lights. She found the sample pack of sleeping pills Ethan had given her in her purse and debated the pros of taking them versus waking herself up every hour. The good night’s sleep won. It would probably leave her much more equipped to deal with her ghost issue. She took the sleeping aide and finished getting ready for bed in the bathroom.

Sleep came quickly and deep. Ethan’s image dominated her dreams.

~~~~

Lauren turned the nozzle of the shower on as hot as she could stand it. She’d slept more peacefully than she had in weeks, woke refreshed and ready to face the day.

Jennifer had told her she’d be at her small bungalow home by nine. Lauren slept in to the tune of eight-thirty. She pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the floor before stepping in the shower.

She drenched her hair and lathered it with shampoo before reaching for the soap and washcloth. She couldn’t help but wonder if Ethan would bathe with her after a night of steamy sex. The intimacy of bathing together seemed deeper than even intercourse. Why that was, she didn’t know.

Lauren lifted her leg up and onto the ledge of the shower stall. She bent down to scrub herself clean and froze. Unable to stop herself, she screamed. Quick panting breaths attacked her, her heart started to beat out of control, and then she jumped out of the shower stall while the water still ran.

There on her thigh were the distinct markings of a large hand, a red and purple imprint left behind. Frantic, still trembling, Lauren ran to look in the mirror above the sink, turning in circles, searching for any other marks.

All the while the hot water of the shower ran, steaming up the bathroom mirror.

She grew cold. Another mark lay upon her back, well beyond her reach. And another on the backside of her upper arm.

In the steamed filled room, the air chilled. Her eyes quickly filled with tears, her heartbeat rose to an alarming speed. Terror reached down into her soul and threatened her very existence. Lauren reached for her towel and quickly covered herself. Terrified of who or what was with her. A blur out of the corner of her eye had her swiveling toward an empty room.

Her back to the mirror, she heard a small squeaky sound, and a soft cry tore from her lips. Afraid of moving too fast or making too much noise, Lauren turned.

There, on the mirror, something touched the smooth surface and started to write. Lauren’s hand went to her lips, holding back a scream.

M.I.N.E.

She backed against the wall and slid to the icy floor.

Paralyzed.

Nothing manifested and nothing touched her. How long she sat there, she didn’t know. But she was deathly afraid of moving. Lauren wept with wide-open eyes, refusing to close them and not see the danger coming at her.

The doorbell rang, followed by a knock. The room lost its chill.

“Lauren. Are you in there?” The female voice shouted through the door.

Pulling herself together, Lauren slid up the wall and all but ran toward the voice.

A woman stood outside her door holding a cat. Jennifer swept her drenched body covered in merely a towel and came to rest on her eyes. “He was here, wasn’t he?”

Lauren nodded, her lower lip trembled, her eyes filled again.

Jennifer stepped into the house, shut the door, and put her feline companion on the floor. Her eyes watched the cat for a few seconds before coming to rest on her.

“It’s okay, he’s gone now.”

“H-how do you k-know?”

Jennifer put both hand on her shoulders, and captured her gaze. “Mitsy isn’t screeching and the room is nice and warm. He’s gone.”

Jennifer stood calm. Her long black hair tumbled down her back; her smiling eyes glanced at her with pity. “You need to pull it together, Lauren. Go, finish your shower.”

Lauren shook her head, afraid of being naked in her own home. Maybe she should move out of her house. Maybe the ghost couldn’t leave the building. But even Lauren knew that was often a myth. More than one spirit had visited her in several locations before moving on to another plane.

“Go…leave the door open. If you need anything, scream.”

Lauren’s mind raced, while soap dripped down her face.

She quickly returned to the shower, rinsed her hair, passed a bar of soap over her limbs, concentrating on the spots where the ghost left his marks, rinsed, and then rushed out of the shower.

Wearing a sweatshirt, jeans, and a head of wet hair, Lauren joined Jennifer in the kitchen.

“I made you some coffee, I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine.” Lauren moved around the kitchen, collecting cups, sugar, and creamer. The mechanical action calmed her frazzled nerves slightly.

Once seated, Jennifer asked, “Are you going to tell me what happened.”

Lauren sipped on the aromatic brew before answering her question. “I slept last night, better than I have in weeks.”

“You mean the ghost didn’t come to you last night.”

Lauren swallowed hard. “That’s what I thought until I saw these.” She lifted her shirt, exposing the damage to her skin. “There are others on my thigh and arm.”

Jennifer seemed lost for words. That brought on a completely new shiver of terror.

“Why? Why is he doing this to me? I don’t know who it is, what it is.”

“Sometimes spirits think they know you. Evil ones will act out actions they did in life. This one was obviously violent.”

“And possessive,” Lauren added.

“Why do you say that?”

She stood and reached out a hand to Jennifer. “Come here.”

In the bathroom, Lauren turned on the shower. The small room steamed up and displayed the haunting message left on the mirror.

“So what changed? Why did it go from seduction to violence?” Jennifer asked under her breath.

“I went on a date last night. Ethan and I came back here.”

Jennifer’s striking green eyes met hers. “Did you and he…”

“No! We didn’t do anything. Well, he kissed me, but nothing more than that.”

Jennifer nodded and walked out of the bathroom. “Our ghost is not only sexual but possessive and violent. Is there anyone in life that you’ve known with those characteristics? Someone who’s recently died?”

“No, no one. I’m around dead people all the time at the hospital, but no one I know personally. These spirits only need a little nudge to go into the light. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

Jennifer sipped from her cup. “Well, I have a few things we can try to keep the bastard away while we do a little research.”

“Try?” She didn’t like the sound of that. Trying wasn’t absolute.

Jennifer sent her a measured stare. “Let’s go over the facts. You and I know most ghosts are passive. They’re here to say goodbye or to try to continue their life in a malevolent form. Occasionally, a real jerk comes around but most leave before doing any real harm. Yeah, they may toss a few plants over or chill a room unnecessarily, but they tend to leave when they know they aren’t wanted. Our guy is way beyond the average drafty, door squeaking dude. He’s managed to enter your dreams and trick you into believing that he’s someone else”

“I know what he’s done,” Lauren waved away the rest of Jennifer’s observation. She didn’t need what he’d done to her spelled out.

“And now he’s hurting you. He’s strong.”

“Maybe if I move away?”

Jennifer tilted her head and gave an apathetic smile. “Do you really think that would work?”

Lauren shook her head.

“Okay then. The first thing you need to do is not show fear. Get mad.”

“What?”

“When the son-of-a-bitch comes around again, yell at it, tell it to leave.”

“I tried that.”

“Cuss, do whatever you can think of. But by all means don’t show the bastard that you’re afraid.”

“But I’m terrified.”

“That’s exactly what this thing feeds on. Your fear. Don’t let it win, Lauren. Fight it.”

Her words echoed facts she’d uncovered from the research she’d done the previous evening.

Jennifer retrieved her purse and pulled out a plethora of strange objects. Before long, she’d filled a metal urn with sage. She opened the windows by an inch then lit the herb and started walking around the room, chanting.

“What is that suppose to do?”

“It’s called smudging. ‘Leave now spirit, your presence isn’t wanted here.’ We repeat the words and don’t leave any space unscented.”

“Does it work?”

“It will on more passive spirits. On ours it will likely put him off for a while, giving us the time to find some answers.”

“So you don’t know how to get rid of him.”

“I have a few ideas. But I’d like to talk with a couple of friends of mine and see what they have to say. In the meantime, you should do this every day.”

Lauren followed Jennifer around the room as Mitsy curled up on the couch and fell asleep. Once finished, Jennifer started packing her things and Lauren turned to her and asked, “What should I do if the spirit contacts me when I’m away from home?”

“I think we’re dealing with an incubus. A male spirit obsessed with sex and possession. Chances are he won’t visit you outside of a bed.”

“What about when I’m sleeping?”

Jennifer patted her hand. “Mitsy will warn you of his presence.”

“You’re leaving your cat?”

“Only until we can find one for you. Of course if you had that boyfriend of yours around more often, that could help.”

“He’s not my boyfriend—well, not yet, anyway.”

“Most ghosts of this magnitude won’t attack or try and come between you and your lover. They wait. Light the sage, get mad and go back in your mind a few weeks or months ago and try to find out who this guy was. Knowledge is power. I’ll call you later tonight.”

Lauren walked her to the door. “Thanks, Jennifer.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“No, you’ve given me something to do other than to sit around being a victim.”

Jennifer patted her shoulder before glancing at her cat. “She loves tuna.” Then she walked away.