Elsewhere

Prologue

            A lot of people think of ghosts as something that people just use in scary stories.  But I want to ask you something.  No, I'm not asking everyone reading this as a whole, I'm asking you personally.

            Anything strange, unexplained, or just plain weird ever happened to you?  Have you ever sat up in bed with the covers to your chin, staring at the dark wall across your room, wondering when it will end?  When that... thing will leave?

            I have.

            Life... well, it's not the same anymore. 

            Death... well, it's not the same anymore.

            You might be thinking one of the two following thoughts I will describe.  Maybe you're thinking that I'm just trying to give teens and adults a good quality scare.  That I'm making this all up to make a little dough.  OR: you might be thinking that this is all a true story, and I really witnessed every fact that I describe in this story.  My answer to these questions?  I'm going to let you decide what you want to believe.

            I was never afraid of ghosts.  Well, I never believed in them.  That was, until, I visited the morgue downtown.  Now, the things that go bump in the night are my life.  Some teenagers go to amusement parks for fun.  I go to cemeteries.

            The adrenaline rush that Ghost Hunting brings to my body is a drug to me.  People run at the sight of one of the Creepers.  I stay, and try to communicate.  Ghosts are still here for a reason.  When most people die, they get where they're going, so why are these tortured spirits still here?  Do they have unfinished business?  Have they been condemned here for Earthly wrongs gone unrighted?  Have they chosen to stay?  Or do they simply need to be heard?

            Whatever the reason may be, my quest is to bring them out and discover their problem.  If I can, I try to help them.  I find out why they're still here, and I find out how they can get where they're going.  It's heart-wrenching to think of how terrible it must be to be stuck somewhere, after you've been tormented in life, and being tormented in death. 

            But there are some spirits that I choose not to help.

            On one of my trips to the Deep Hill Cemetery, I visited an open grave.  Now, this Cemetery was infamous, for it housed hundreds of murder victims' bodies.  Some say that it was created for that reason... to dump mangled bodies.

            As I was standing in that open grave, I experienced a Paranormal attack. 

            I began to feel lightheaded, and leaned back against one of the walls.  As I stood there, my vision blurred and I began to see double.  While I was seeing double, I saw a white figure.  Only, it was only in one of my eyes, as if only one of my eyes was seeing it.  Double vision, but only a single vision saw the spirit.  Was I being opened up to the other side?  Whatever happened, it happened quick.  I looked at the spirit, and I could see him distinctly.  I could make out two arms, two legs, beefy hands, and small feet.  My vision began to fade, and I started blacking out.

            “Stop!” I yelled.  But before I did, I turned on my EVP recorder.  As I blacked out, I held the EVP recorder in my hand, and I captured a strange and threatening EVP.

            As I returned home that night, I reviewed my evidence.  I listened to the EVP, and chills ran down my spine.

            “You're done.  I've got you.” It said.