Ghost Tales of Seattle

Seattle Ghost Story Part 6

Genevieve

Ranger Wilson was lucky she couldn't hear the horrible sounds of the baby and Etta crying. The other spirits who'd been attracted by the wails ended up putting their hands over their ears and turning away. Etta would not give up her grief willingly. It was too much a part of her. If she hadn't placed her bloody handprints on the window or almost pushed an old lady down the stairs, I would have left her alone, but she had the potential to become a vengeful spirit. I couldn't chance it. I would have to force the issue.

My friend, Father McCabe was an exorcist for the Archdiocese of Seattle. That wasn't what his biography on the organization's website listed as his position. The Pope did not want his priests dealing with ghosts. The official line was that a faithful person's soul went to God and other sorts went to hell. Anything left behind was not the problem of the church. Fortunately, men like Father McCabe were more open minded. He dealt with problem ghosts.

I didn't want to call him for this spirit. She was in too much pain to leave on her own, despite a bit of violence, she was innocent of real harm. I suspected a Catholic Priest would increase her fear of being punished. As understanding as McCabe was, the church was not a fan of abortion.

I pulled out a sage stick and lit it. Ranger Wilson's eyes went wide. I wondered how much of Etta's energy she could feel. She'd been silent since I'd called Etta with her blood. I guessed it had creeped her out a bit.

"What is happening?" she asked.

"The ghost is a young woman named Etta. She believes she is being punished for her sins. She can't go to the light without my pushing her. She won't let go," I said. "Do you feel her despair?"

"It feels colder than it should be in here and the hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention."

"I plan for there to be one less spirit haunting the hotel. I hope that won't hurt business."

"Ghosts are not our main attraction. Even if they were, I for one, wouldn't want one to be suffering for tourists' entertainment.

Etta was curled up into a ball. I walked around her in a circle with the sage held high.