Haunted houseThe call came in just as I was about to end my shift - suspected ghost possession at the old
Victorian mansion on Chestnut Street. Sighing, I flicked on the siren and sped over. Ever since
that family had moved in last month, we'd gotten call after call from the distressed homeowners
begging us to investigate “paranormal” occurrences. Doors slamming shut, strange noises at
night, unseen hands tugging at their clothes and hair - the usual ghostly antics.
When I arrived, the couple was waiting anxiously on the wrap-around porch. “Oh thank god!” the
wife cried, rushing to my car. “It’s gotten so much worse. We can’t stay here another night. But
every time we try to leave, the doors lock themselves!”
I nodded calmly. “I’ll take a look inside and make sure everything is safe. Pack up your
essentials.”
As soon as I stepped through the front door, I felt it - the characteristic chill in the air that
revealed a malevolent spirit's presence. This was no run-of-the-mill ghost. Drawing my silver
crucifix, I began the ritual exorcism chant to force the entity back into the darkness. An unearthly
scream filled the house as a vase went hurtling past my head.
The family stood outside, terrified as the house shook with supernatural fury. But I did not stop
until I sensed the spirit had been quelled. “It’s done,” I told them. “The evil presence is banished
but not destroyed. You must leave this place tonight and never return.”
Relief swept over their faces. Quickly gathering their two young children into the car, they
thanked me profusely before driving away from the haunted house forever. I watched their
taillights fade into the darkness, hoping their fresh start would bring happier days ahead.
Though I knew someday I would get another call to battle the forces of evil, tonight, good had
prevailed.