“This is ridiculous,” Henry muttered. “Ghosts aren’t real and this whole farce is just a waste of time.” “Then how else do you explain the shattered dishes when no one is the room, the furniture moving at night, the faces in the mirror?” his wife, Agatha, demanded, “No, this place is haunted and since you refuse to move, my friend, Amber, has been kind enough to try to contact them and send them on their way, so we can get a moment’s peace. Be polite.” “I’m ready,” Amber called from the dining room. Amber had commandeered one half of the dining table to set up candles, incense and some weird crystal. The blinds had all been drawn and all of the lights turned off, so that Henry ended up tripping over the edge of the carpet on the way to the table. “Stupid, ridiculous…” Henry muttered under his breath. He could feel Agatha glaring at him. “Join hands,” Amber instructed, taking Henry’s left hand in her right. After waiting a moment for them to settle, she began to intone, “Restless spirits commune with us. You have lingered here too long. We only wish to aid you. Tell us your story and help us bring you peace.” Her words were greeted with silence, the seconds stretching on. Agatha coughed. Henry was just about to declare the whole thing nonsense and stand up, when the air temperature suddenly plummeted and a low moan filled the room. Three lights appeared near the edge of the table, making Henry jump. Agatha gasped. “Speak spirits,” Amber was the only who seemed unconcerned. The first light moved forward, transforming into a woman dressed like an old fashioned maid. Blood splattered the bodice of her dress and apron. “I am Maria, a maid of this household,” the spirit whispered, “I was murdered one evening, when I was cleaning the parlour room.” “Be at peace Maria, your murderer has long since passed from this world,” Amber murmured, “And it is time for you to as well. Enter the circle and pass into the light.” A strange expression crossed Maria’s face when Amber said this, but all she said was, “Beware the man with the crooked smile. He is not who he pretends to be.” Then she vanished. The next light moved forward and transformed into a middle aged man, “My name is Tobias. I was the groundskeeper of these lands. I went to investigate a strange noise one evening and he attacked me from behind.” “Who did?” Amber asked. “The man with the crooked smile,” Tobias growled, “He brings death wherever he goes.” “The man you speak of is long dead,” Amber answered, “Find peace and trouble these people no more.” Tobias scowled and he shook his head, “That ‘man’ cannot die. He is the bringer of death itself.” But he too vanished. The last light came forward, this time a little girl in an old fashioned smock. “I am Clara,” the little girl intoned, “I died in the garden. They all thought it was an accident, but it was the man, the man they warned you of.” “That man is gone,” Amber told her, soothingly, “Be at peace.” Clara shook her head, “He’s coming. He’s almost here. You should leave, before it’s too late.” Then she too, vanished. As soon as she disappeared, a howl filled the house, rattling the windows. The candles flickered and went out. Another light appeared, but somehow it seemed wrong. Distorted, twisted, crooked. “Restless spirit, you don’t belong here,” Amber intoned, her voice firm, although Henry could feel a faint tremor in her hand, “You must move on.” There was another howl and the light changed to the jagged image of a man, bent over, with a deranged looking grin on his face. He began to shamble towards them. “Restless spirit, your time has come,” Amber shouted louder, “It is time to move on.” The spirit chattered angrily at her, moving even closer. Henry started to rise to his feet, ready to run. Amber’s grip tightened. “Do not,” she hissed, “It’s what he wants. He cannot harm us if we stay put.” She took a deep breath and yelled, “BEGONE!” The spirit wavered, flickering, then with an angry shriek, vanished. The temperature of the room rose to normal, and the candlelight returned. Amber let out a sigh, let go of their hands and flicked the lights back on. “Well that was intense.” She snuffed out all of the candles one by one, collecting them in a small tin box, “Your house should be clear now.” “Thank goodness,” Agatha looked visibly relieved. A knock at the door made them all jump. Amber frowned. “Were you expecting anyone?” “No, but…” Agatha peered out the window, “Why that’s Mrs. Harris’ car, but there’s a man… oh, I remember now! With the haunting and whatnot, I’d completely forgotten. Her son, Toby, offered to come by this week and fix one of the cabinets they had broken… I bet this is him now.” She opened the door to reveal a young man. “Toby, right? Thank you for coming. I’ll show you which cabinet needs fixing.” “Hmm? Yes, oh, yes, of course.” The man said, stepping past Agatha. As he did, he peered into the dining room where Amber was cleaning up the paraphernalia she had set up. “You holding a séance?” “Just finished actually. Why? Didn’t your mother tell you about the spirits?” Agatha asked. Toby seemed friendly enough, so why was there this feeling of unease creeping up her spine? “Ah, yes, yes she did. I just didn’t connect the two. Well, I’m sure it’ll just be fine.” The man offers her a grin, his lip twisting slightly due to a faint scar at the corner of his lips making his smile seem a bit crooked, “I’m sure it’ll all be just fine.” Entry for 2024 Halloween writer's contest