"Lexi!" Spencer shouted. I turned around as she threw me an iron fireplace poker. I spun around, slicing it through the ghost. It vanished but it would be back.
We had caught wind of this case a couple of days ago while in Indiana. There had been a brutal killing of a happy, married couple in the house. They had been stabbed to death in their sleep. All windows and doors were locked and there was no sign of forced entry. We knew it had to be a ghost, so we headed this way.
We did a little research and found that this happened once every year. About five years ago, a man named Patrick Briley lived here. It was just him in the house. Then one night, someone broke in and stabbed him to death in his sleep. So, every year, around this time, Ol' Briley comes out and stabs whoever lives here in their sleep. That's his MO.
I turned to Spencer and threw her the fireplace poker. "You stay here and keep him occupied. I'm gonna go find them." I started running out the door then called behind my back, "Stay in the circle!"
When we were doing our homework on Briley, we found that his remains were cremated. So, no bones to salt and burn. That meant that some of his remains were still here, tying him to this house. Luckily, I knew just what I was looking for and wear to find it. The man had been stabbed in his bed, so that meant there had to be blood all over the sheets. There was an old shed that looked like it hadn't been opened in years out back, and I had my bets set on the bloody sheets being in there.
I ran out back and opened the shed door. I was going to use force to open it but it was so old that I barely had to push it. I walked inside and tried the light. Nada. I pulled out my flashlight and shined it on the dusty shed. There were still shelves and tools in there and every single one of them was rusted. The shelves and everything on them were covered in cobwebs and dead bugs. I'm surprised this place hasn't been destroyed by termites.
I looked around the shed and bingo! Found 'em. The sheets that Briley bled all his bodily fluids on. I pulled out the salt and some oil and covered the sheets it in. Then I pulled out my zippo lighter and made a flane. "Stabbin' folks ain't nice, douchewad." I threw the zippo down and just as the fire spread, I heard Spencer scream.
I took off, running to the house as fast as I could. "SPENCE!" I shouted. Oh God, please no. Not my sister. I prayed. I didn't usually pray but this was an emergency. I finally got to the house and burst through the front door. I didn't see Spencer at first. I saw the fireplace poker under a table. The ghost must've knocked it out of her hand. Then I saw the broken salt line that had been protecting Spencer.
Then I saw her. She was laying up against the back wall, slouched over. Her hand was on her stomach, which was covered in blood. "No..." I said, practically inaudible. I ran over to her and knelt in front of her. She had been stabbed right in the middle. "No, no, no, no, no." I muttered as I cupped her face in my hands. Damn ghost. I thought.