As I flip off the switch for the hallway light, a sharp snap echoes somewhere in the walls. Unfortunately, that’s not unusual for this old piece of shit apartment. With its stained walls, perpetually creaking doors and floors, and a smell one can only liken to a restaurant food waste bin, it’s a wonder why anybody even considers still living here. Well, it’s a wonder until you read my current bank balance then the whole thing comes into focus and makes perfect sense. Standards of living are, in fact, a luxury item, one that I’m unable to afford as I’ve settled on dwelling in this moldy, asbestos-ridden death trap that could spontaneously burn down any time someone commits the grievous offense of turning on a light.

 

Shuffling over to my bed, the one consistently wonderful part of my life, I dive onto the beautiful memory foam mattress I inherited from my mom when she decided to upgrade. My hand woefully leaves the soft embrace of the cloud-like substance for just the three seconds it takes to click off my lamp (prompting another crack of pain from the wires surrounding me) before collapsing back onto my personal sanctuary.

 

Sleep, the final frontier, is truly the greatest mercy gifted to us by nature itself. I hum into my pillow, content for the first time since I begrudgingly surrendered my spot here this morning in order to go to work so I can continue to afford the apartment where my bed lives. This is the moment I live for every day. The whole world can finally melt away as I drift off into the somber embrace of quiet darkness.

 

…

 

That’s the plan anyway, but for the past few days, I have been denied my sweet refrain from the mundane. The moment my eyes close and I can feel my consciousness fading, I hear her again. Immediately to my right, just beyond the reach of my bed, there’s a soft crying. My eyes snap open and the sound stops. Always the crying, always when I shut my eyes. Letting my lids drop closed once more, I wait for the sound of sobs once again. Within seconds, the telltale sound starts up, so this time I whip my neck to the side while I’m ripping my eyelids open. The whole act of looking directly at the source of the sound takes less than a fraction of a second… still nothing.

 

I know what you’re thinking: Wow, Milton, you’re so wonderful and fearless to be trying to confront your spectral guest so directly! First of all, yes, I am pretty exceptional, thank you. Secondly, no I’m not. The first night this happened I nearly shit myself and refused to go to the bathroom once until the sun rose and made the world a bit less creepy. Third, the only reason I’m being so gung-ho about meeting this potentially dangerous being face to face is that she’s taken away the best part of my life! She’s left me a husk of a man with nothing to lose! I really fucking need my sleep!

 

Days without a restful night's sleep have left me desperate enough to become one intensely confrontational mofo… and I HATE confrontation! “That does it! Alright ghosty, I get that you’re dead and that sucks, my condolences, but why are you here!?” The only response I receive is the gentle creaking of my home as it slowly loses structural integrity. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad… Alright, that’s a lie, I’m pretty pissed off, but not at you… Alright, almost exclusively at you. But maybe if you’d tell me what was wrong, I’d understand and I wouldn’t be mad anymore. Please. Just talk to me. Anything’s better than just hearing a sorrow serenade at night with no context or reassurance that this whole thing isn’t just in my head.”

 

Once more, I receive no real response. I’m at my wit’s end. That’s not saying much given my usual lack of wit, but even so, I need this whole issue resolved yesterday! I turn on every light in my house, causing more snaps, crackles, and pops than a beloved breakfast cereal, before turning my laptop on and hitting up the usual search engine that basically runs my life.

 

Moogle.com

→ How to do a séance?

Kupo! There are 525,600 results

 

Bingo! My salvation lies somewhere here! Link numero uno… oh cool, a video!

 

A woman with bright red hair and a flower crown sits in what I can only assume is some kind of yoga pose while smiling a bit too intensely at the camera. There’s a lilting melody in the background that I’m convinced has been playing in every elevator on television since the late seventies. “Hello my beautiful waterlilies and welcome to séances with Séancé I’m your host: Séancé”

 

There’s no way that’s actually her name, right?

 

“To begin, you’re going to need some salt, a candle with a bright flame, a mirror, some paper, and a fireproof bowl.”

 

Pausing the video, I raid my entire home to find the closest approximation of the stuff required. Let’s see, a couple of packets of salt from McDonalds, a half-burnt birthday candle (blue), a really shiny and reflective piece of aluminum foil, a notepad, and a plastic bowl… plastic is pretty fireproof, I’m fifty percent sure.

 

“Now my precious little sunbeams, we have to bless our altar. So go ahead and gently scrub some salt onto your work surface while chanting a brief blessing.” The woman pours a bit of salt on a small wooden stool that I guess could look altar-adjacent while happily humming and listing things in a cheery voice. “Love, happiness, warm cookies, the screams of my putrid enemies, cardinals on my windowsill!”

I don’t quite catch the thing she says in the middle, but the concept seems simple enough to grasp. I dump my meager amount of salt onto my chipped wooden floor and start rubbing it in. “Uhh, sleeping, being asleep, getting to sleep in, Spy x Family coming back for its second cour, having more money in my account than I remember…” Pretty sure that’ll do it.

 

“Fabulous job my gorgeous little blueberries! Now that our altar is prepped, time to light our candle. Place it directly in front of you and position the mirror so that you can see the reflection of the flame and yourself while looking directly forward. While the flame is lit, you should write down a small message you’d like to communicate to the spirit and set it down next to your candle. Just go ahead and pause me now and hit play again when you’re all set.”

 

She’s so considerate… but her smile just keeps getting wider and wider. I’d hate to badmouth someone who seems so sweet, but it’s honestly kind of unnerving. Oh well, I’ve already invested two whole salt packets… I’ve come too far to quit. I find a fortunately sized hole in the floor that I’m able to stand the birthday candle in and set up the foil as a reflective screen behind it. Considering how my candle might only last for seconds and not minutes, I decide to scrawl out a brief note before lighting.

 

Ghost lady,

I really need to sleep. I don’t wish to be rude, because quite frankly your very existence terrifies me on an existential level and I can’t imagine what you’re capable of. If you wish to actually talk with me, that’d be cool. I’d be happy to recommend some quiet places for you to haunt or people who deserve a good scare if you’re looking to have a bit of fun. If not, I’d appreciate maybe crying a bit less often. I’ll even take a fifty-fifty one day on one day off split at this point. Once again, just spitballing here, I am open to discussion and negotiation.

Best,

Milton

 

A bit formal for my taste, but considering I’m dealing with a being of as-of-yet unknown power, I’d say being overly formal is better than the alternative. I set down the paper and light my measly candle before hitting play.

 

“Outstanding! Candle’s a bit on the small side, Milton, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

Huh?

 

“Now pick up your note and give yourself a teensy weensy paper cut on your finger and let the blood seep into the paper.” Holy shit. I believe this just went from crazy to batshit fucking crazy in about five seconds. Definitely not doing any of that. I hit pause on the video and the background music stops. Well, that was certainly an experience–

 

Wait, did she just blink?

 

Checking the progress bar on the bottom, I see that the video is indeed still paused, but the woman on the screen is still staring at me… and breathing. “I didn’t give you permission to pause the video yet… did I?” Séancé’s head starts twisting in a clockwise direction as her smile widens further. A sharp crack distortedly plays from my speakers as her head passes the ninety-degree mark and comes to a sudden stop. “Now MILTON, why don’t we try this again?” The woman is now growling my name in a voice she didn’t have a second ago. On the one hand, fuck all of what’s going on right now. On the other hand, why is my body moving on its own and picking up the paper?

 

Without my permission, my hand runs the edge of the note I wrote across my thumb leaving a small, burning wound. A small line of blood forms and starts trickling down onto the paper while the voice in my computer laughs in that disgusting, unnatural tone it’s now adapted as its default. “P– Please stop?” I ask, acting like there’s a chance in the hell I’m sure this being is from that it’ll listen. Still under new management, my hands light the now bloodied note on fire and throw it into the bowl as the woman on screen starts screaming a chant in what I can only assume is Latin or some other dead language.

 

Shadows twist around my apartment and the floorboards creak with the steps of many unwanted visitors. Throughout my life, I’ve heard the expression “all hell breaks loose” used for intense situations… but what the fuck am I supposed to say if it’s literally happening!? The lights flicker as the wires in my wall go nuts like fireworks on the new year. The woman has stopped chanting and has gone back to laughing hysterically, her head now upside down from the rest of her body. In the dim light of the candle, I see something move behind me and turn around just in time to see a shadowy figure dart out of the corner of my vision.

 

“All right sis, he’s all yours.” The woman says as a carnival of horror tropes explodes around me and my heart thunders, furiously trying to escape its cage of rib.

 

“I just wanted to sleep!!! Is that so fucking wrong!?” I cry, literally, cry as I crumple into the fetal position hoping the world somehow rights itself again. The fracas ceases as quickly as it had begun and I’m left… ironically sobbing in the otherwise quiet apartment.

 

“Well, that’s all for me today sweetpeas, don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe to my channel if you want more spiritual hacks and rituals! Bye-bye now!”

 

I remain curled up in a ball. The house has been still for quite some time, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. Every hair on my body is standing at full attention and I feel a gaze boring into the back of my skull. Life wasn't nearly as frightening when I only had to deal with the sobbing ghost from earlier… but now I have to worry about whatever evil shit I just conjured watching that psycho hippie's video.

 

The floorboards behind me creak and moan as I hear shuffling steps approaching me. I believe that I’m well and truly fucked here. No doubt about it. This is the end for ole Milton. Do I have any regrets? Too many to count. Maybe I’ll end up a ghost too. Wouldn’t that be fun?

 

The steps grow closer and closer before they come to a stop inches away from my back. Bracing myself, I expect teeth and claws and unimaginable pain to rip through me. So, imagine my surprise when a gentle hand taps my shoulder lightly. “M– Milton?” A soft voice calls out, sounding almost as scared of me as I am of it.

 

“Yes?” I answer, waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment and just wishing this thing would end the suspense already. Looking back over my shoulder, I’m prepared for the greatest horrors the human mind could never even imagine… and instead, I’m greeted by a genuinely beautiful sight. “Wow… you’re gorgeous…” The woman behind me is tall, probably more so than I am when actually on my feet. She’s wearing a plain white dress and has silky-straight jet black hair. Her face, though a bit sunken and unnaturally pale, is without a doubt the most radiant sight I’ve ever seen. All of this added to the fact that she’s smiling right at me in a manner that has me wondering if I truly didn’t die moments ago and somehow end up in a heaven I don’t believe in.

 

“Thank you!” A small blush dusts her cheeks making my heart race for a reason other than mortal peril tonight. “I’m Agatha. I believe you wanted to talk to me?”