Episode 27: unCOnVENtional WISDOM

Hatchmore Sanitarium, the Midnight hour. When all good souls should be resting peacefully.

Truman Porter had been drugged heavily since he was dropped off outside the madhouse, an orderly finding him without any idea who he even was. Now that local law enforcement had run his prints and ID to identify him as a simple hotel proprietor who hailed from nearby Belltower the next question was why he was suffering amnesia. All signs pointed to that symptom, confusion, and lack of coherent bodily movements. Only an occasional bay like a sheep uttered from his lips. He didn’t appear violent, so restraints were minimal. The on-duty doctors didn’t quite know what to make of him. Not only that but once news that the hotel he had owned burnt to the ground while he was in custody of the manor, law enforcement wondered who might have set that blaze. A wave of baffling thoughts on it the county and city cops simply called it accidental. A spell cast of course to forget pretty much all things occult had defined that decision making. Witchery with a bit of help without knowing it.

Waking up in a dark bedroom Truman stared at the ceiling. Thoughts returning in small increments he questioned where he was. Obviously, a hospital. With his only restraint an ankle tie to his bed to prevent him walking off he sat up and noticed its attachment. Peering about in his quiet confinement he sighed. “What did I conjure up this time?” A swift untying, he stood up from his bed and stretched from long hours of immobility. A sealed window allowed him to look out at the courtyard and the countryside beyond it. Darkness precluded much outside of moonlit advantages, yet he felt a vibration, like a heartbeat strike through his chest. Realization set in! “That cannot be good.”

“It is far from good.” He heard a feminine voice behind him. “See what you started, Mister Portal.”

“Portal? You mean Porter.” Amnesia overrated, he turned expecting a nurse or orderly. With no one there he winced. “Identify yourself please.”

“Room 665! Down the hall on your left. I would ask that you handle my body with care. I know of your habits. While you were never in charge before now, you still have much blood on your ... hooves.”

“Hooves? Whatever do you ... maybe I’m in here for a reason, I’m talking to my feminine side.”

“You are not mad, Mister Portal.”

“Why do you keep calling me Portal?”

“Are you not the instigator of that which will soon engulf all of the souls in the area? Reach I am uncertain, but quite a distance it appears. We must correct your wrongs. Please hurry to my room and take me with you. We have very little time to waste.”

“Who are ... ewwwe?” He went goat in tone then shook it off. “EWE WIN...!” He hurried to the door and opened it. Like many of the patients living here, it stunned him that the staff were acting lost, as if troubled by where they were, who they might be. Only Truman seemed in charge for the most part. After hearing the voice tell him he had blood on his hands/ hooves, it worried him what his dabbling in dark magic up in Boston had set loose. Following instructions meant answers, so he was all in. “What’s wrong with the staff?”

“They suffer soul shock. Those weaker than we will lose themselves if we do not hurry. It is time to redeem yourself Portal.”

“Why do you keep calling me Portal?”

“Are you not the Porter that guides souls to their destination?”

“Uhh? I bought a hotel in Belltower. Owner though not any ... bell ... hop. Oh, God! Belltower ... bellhop. Maybe I should go back to bed.”

“Ewe will not. Faster please. We have only a few hours before all is lost.” Reaching the room, he noted a clipboard hanging outside the door. Looking at it he discovered the identity of the resident and narrowed his eyes.

“Vivian DeVore?”

“Yes. Now stop lollygagging.”

“Right!” He opened her door and turned on the light to see by. In her bed fast asleep, drugged up was Mrs. Vivian DeVore, former owner of Souillon House. “You’re not even awake.”

“My bodily functions are controlled. I speak to you only through my head.”

“Uhhh? Okay!”

“Put me in a wheelchair.”

“Should I dress you ... me? I mean we’re only in hospital gowns.”

“There is no time, Portal. Stop acting as if there is. MOVE!” Grumbling, he raced back into the hall and located a wheelchair and brought it back in, weaving in and around a nurse standing there drooling.

“What did I set loose? I can feel something inside me stirring. Nipping at my insides.”

“You are a former Baphomet. A residue still lingers in you. It has controlled you off and on for years. Making you murder young women as sacrifices to increase your ... its power. In Belltower this very instant your former and another ... a much more powerful Baphomet perform a ritual. One that will claim the souls of thousands in the area. Including ours!”

“How do you know all of this? For that matter how are you using telepathy?”

“Enough!” Truman removed Vivian from her bed and sat her in the chair, arranging her feet to prevent harm. Once she was seated, he stood up and felt a strange sensation. “I will give you your body back once we are on the road. Forgive me, Mister Portal.” Her words through his lips Truman sat back in his brain and felt her control his body. Pushing herself out into the hall and dodging staff members she stopped long enough to pick the pocket of a security guard. “I hope your gas tank is full, Lloyd. If not, there will never be any reason to refill it.” She patted the guard’s belly. “This one either.” No soul, total breakdown along the highway to hell.

Reaching a car that had Security written on it, Vivian utilized Truman’s body to place her own body in the passenger seat, buckling herself in. Casting the chair aside she marched Truman around to the driver’s side and got in. Key in the ignition she fired it up. “At a boy, Lloyd. Full tank! That’s a good omen.” At that moment she released Truman back to his motor skills. “Drive to Belltower. My granddaughter will stall the Baphomet’s as long as she can.”

“Ewing! Her name is Ewing.” He spoke out as he set the SUV into motion. “I think I read your mind while you took me over. How exactly did you do that?”

“Astral projection. I read quite a bit over the last year or three. Fate, it seems! Before I got committed. My brain shut itself down, a prisoner of my mind but I’m getting better. I think it took your pissed off Baphomet busting up the TV set in the common area to spark my return. It tried to get back inside you in turn trying to reach me. Like ewe I dabbled where I shouldn’t have. I’m not any witch but I sure winged it pretty well until my brain snapped into gridlock. Evil is nothing to mess with as you now know.”

“I killed women?”

“Your body did. Your will was not your own. You read something in a book like I did ... the Pentagram has five points in the star of the Ram. If you think logically each point is a V. Mine are the ears and the snout. V as in ViVian, V within DeVore. You are the Portal, what is left of me, the Door. I know it sounds insane, but we are the direct cause of all of this. You were drawn to Belltower because of me. Sitting idle in your hotel waiting on the perfect timetable. Unfortunately, you were diverted in your mission by someone. My daughter sold my former house, the new owner has ... been snooping. I know not how she is a part of this but when you failed due to her ... to the witches in this area ... a more powerful Baphomet stepped up. We must beat him back or all will suffer.”

“Redemption sounds good. Call me Truman.”

“V...!”

Get a Vroom!

Souillon House thirty minutes after Erin Parrish headed to town.

“What is this pounding that makes my spirit woozy?” Vienna Edwards stood alone in the front yard. With Ben and Rosalita off with Erin and the ghostly boys within the house she shivered. Not by choice. “There must be something really bad going down for Erin to be called into Belltower. Odd that I can even hear a bell ringing, but it seems so very far away. I can’t even be with the others indoors. This sucks!”

Cries emitting from the forest haunted the haunter even as she opted to pay a visit to her adopted kids residing in the woods. To a ghost travel was swift with nothing standing in your way. Animal chatter in the trees cut through her vibrational form. “Oh, crap! The slaves ... former slaves are restless too. They can feel what I’m feeling. What is causing all of this?” Hopeless to linger in fear Vienna looked to her left. “Take care of our babies, Miss Kitty.” A momma lynx did indeed coddle her litter. A soft glow with a strange attraction came from the entrance to momma’s den. It was so alluring that Vienna could barely resist it. Intriguing! Why bother ignoring it, she had nothing better to do.

“Follow the light they say! That usually leads to a bug zapper.”

Worth the risk!

Upstairs of Souillon house Kyra Whimsey was still reeling from her unplanned beASTRALity. Bestiality at the paws of an astral body belonging to the sweetest Great Dane she had ever known. Sexual residues emitting through Ben Parrish using the dog as a host for his spirit possession had sparked the dog’s own heated hormones. Having licked the sigil tattoo area on Kyra’s arm only enhanced the dog’s determination. The sigil bonded her with his astral retreat from its physical body, gaining access to the house. The more the dog licked her the longer it lost control over its immaterial form. Astral fucking had to be original. While Kyra presumed it was one of the boys, it took a while to figure things out. Not even the ghosts of the former sex slaves of Genevieve Souillon, nor the new sigil power could see Scooby Boo’s astral side. Tough night! It took Rico Montoya to realize the situation at paw. His astral form recently escaping his shell he was a tad keener than everyone else.

Needing to pee Kyra revived and winced at her aching asshole. “Why am I moving in here again?” She pouted. Kyra knew this was a fluke but still, she was ... for a better term ... butt hurt. Crawling out of bed she heard shuffling in the hallway. “Erin?” She recalled telling her bestie to sleep on the couch after her humiliation and her silly comments. She loved Erin, but the timing was horrible. So was the timing on everything this night.

Rising she put on her former nightie just to feel clothed and left the room in favor of the potty. In her way stood... “Izzy?” Sleepwalker with her eyes open and a hand waving. “William?” Thumbs up! “Can’t sleep inside her?” Thumbs down! “Just don’t let her fall down the stairs.”

Gloves behind her making clapping noises, then knocks on the wall Kyra turned to see their actions. She realized the boys were all up here trying to get her attention, waving and pointing at the music room. A glowing blue light seen around the door frame made her curious. “Party in the piano room?”

She stepped amidst the cluster of boys, unable to see or feel them at the moment, outside of gloved hands. “Are you trying to get me to open the door?” A vibrational wave made the boys act strange, gloves holding their bellies and foreheads, she too felt it but was not affected like they were. “What was that?” She flared her eyes while the boys reacted out of cluelessness. The door rattling from the interior made Kyra jump. “Is Genevieve throwing a fit? I can’t hear her wailing or calling me Darkey.” The boy Otis attempted to turn the doorknob but found it stiff and immobile. “Wait! You guys can go in to stand guard but now you can’t get in? What’s up with that?”

William moved Izzy’s body up next to Kyra and tried to turn the knob with Isabel’s hand. Still unable to enter Kyra nudged the slumbering girl back, well William back at this point. “You need to wake our girl up Willy. Taking advantage of her in her sleep can get her hurt.” Thumbs up Willy drew Isabel’s hand back and slapped his host body in the face.

“Owww! Watch the elbow, Rico.” She fluttered her lashes then saw Kyra. “Did you just slap me?” Willy waved her own hand in front of her eyes. “Oh, no you didn’t! I won’t be in any abusive relationship after all I’ve been through.”

“Just you relax.” Kyra calmed her, “He just woke you up for me. Although, you could have been more subtle Willy.” He patted Izzy on the chest lightly with her tender palm. “There he’s asking forgiveness. You were sleepwalking with Willy in charge. I didn’t want you to accidently fall or something.”

“Could have fooled me. Next time just goose me or something.” Izzy frowned. “Why are we in the hall in front of Beethoven’s Nanny’s room?”

“The boys are trying to get in and can’t. It sounds as if someone is trying to get out too. The boys that are inside guarding Genevieve I suspect.” Izzy tried the knob again on her own this time. With no success Kyra sighed. “Let me at it.” Licking her sigil tattoo it lit up brightly. In doing this all of the ghosts around her became tangible and blue. Even Izzy’s eyes turned blue to acknowledge William inhabiting her. Another vibrational hit made everyone stammer, Kyra noting their pain. “Okay! Ghosts with tummy aches and dizziness.” No idea why she said that! Even Earl in the attic let out a cry of pain, chains dragging about on the floor. “Oh crap! Go get Erin.”

“She is gone.” Lester spoke up, in this evolution of light Kyra could hear the boys speak. She could also hear Genevieve on the other side of the door screaming “DARKEY! DARKEY!”

“Hey! That’s enough name calling G.” Kyra beat on the door, the knob automatically turning by itself until it unlatched. “Oh, crap! Where did Erin go?”

“She left in her carriage.” Timothy revealed, “With Rico, Ben, and Rosalita.”

“Rico’s gone?” Izzy pepped up. “I can’t believe he ditched me. Mom too! It had to be an emergency for all of them to take off at this hour. Right?”

“Most likely! She must have let me sleep because of ... yeah, that!”

“Yeah, what?” Izzy was asleep during Doggy Dancing.

“I’ll tell you later.” Kyra chose to ease the music room door open. Seeing Beau and Jimmy of the ghosts standing guard they looked terrified. Pointing at the floor Kyra opened the door further and saw for the very first time the original lady of the house. A tall thin woman sprawled out on the floor as if digging her nails at the woodwork. Kyra swallowed dryly over her first glimpse of... “Genevieve?”

“DARKEY!” Genevieve yelled and looked up at Kyra with horror. “DARKEY!” This did not appear as if a hatred moment, more a fear of the unknown expression. With a deploring hand reach Kyra kept her distance.

“Talk to me Genevieve. I know you can as long as my sigil lets me see you.”

“We will all burn in hell.” Genevieve whimpered. “The Darkey is coming for us all.”

“Wait! Darkey is a person ... not me ... not my color. Who is the Darkey?”

“Dark ... E... “ Genevieve strained, “Vvvvvvv ... ill.” Another energy wave, the ghosts doubled over in pain. Even Willy slipped halfway out of Izzy as if ready to hurl. Isabel in turn went slightly goofy in her actions without a complete possession. Genevieve in her agony repeated herself. “Dark ... Eeeee ... Vvvvv ... ill.”

“Dark Evil?” Kyra winced. The full mention of it Genevieve pointed up at her with a glint in her soulless eye as if saying, “Yes.” Kyra bulged her eyes, “Devil?” Another such point Genevieve slowly faded from her blue light cast, her boys as well. Willy resuming full control of Izzy’s body let Izzy take over again.

“We’re facing the devil now?”

“I ... holy shit, Izzy! Where’s my phone? I need to call Erin.”