Excerpt: Phasma ex Parietis

Lark pushed herself slowly down the hall, careful not to make too much noise. It was easier for the other members of the team to step very quietly through the halls, but Lark was sometimes at the mercy of her squeaky wheels, or crunchy wheelchair seat. The hall was wide, plush, and beautiful, the very image of a rich American’s home.

They could hear a soft, high, strange noise to their left further down the hallway just past a display case filled with World War II memorabilia. The house was beautiful and clean, but the cream painted walls along this corridor seemed dirty, the paint scratched in places and smudges on the walls, making the area look much older than the rest of the house. According to the client’s complaint, most of the source of the damage to the walls was the paranormal activity he had been experiencing intermittently for several months at a time for several years.

Lark, Willem, and Bob the cameraman were moving down the hall towards the soft sounds. Two other teams were in the house and another was investigating the grounds. Lark was careful to stay focused on the task at hand tonight, because this was their first night investigating a location on live television, in fact it was their first investigation in the company of television crews at all. The television network hoped to drum up large ratings with a live premier, and them keep their new viewers from week to week.

She felt as though her wheelchair was a rolling noise machine, and she flinched softly at every sound it made, unaware that her coworkers were completely oblivious to the noises that were bothering her. She cringed at the sound and sensation the foam inside of her seat cushion crunching softly when she leaned forward, but then her attention was ripped away from the noise to the contents of the mostly glass display case. Every hair on her body seemed to stand up, and bile rose in her throat, causing her to swallow angrily. She had been aware that the client had a familial past closely linked to the Third Reich, but she had expressly requested not to be placed in the area where she’d have to confront such a blatant display. A Nazi Storm Soldier’s hat sat prominently displayed in what appeared to be a shelf of shame. Her own grandfather had nearly died attempting to escape the Nazis, for the crime of hiding a family of Jews in his own Roman Catholic home. Now she believed she understood what “last minute change” the Network had made was, and why her team’s location had been switched with another’s at the last minute.

Well, she wasn’t going to give the bastards the satisfaction of a tantrum, or any reaction at all. She took a very deep breath, let it out extremely quietly, and then forced her eyes to slide past the beautifully maintained SS officer’s hat and other affects, and down towards the floor and at the wall just past the cabinet, towards what sounded like the source of the noise. She immediately saw what looked like a mouse or rat hole in the wall, and felt a twinge of disappointment. She looked at Willem and was met with the same cynical expression. They had been punked by a mouse, and a client who hadn’t done everything he could to rule out mundane possibilities. Again.

Well. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. She wasn’t the least bit afraid of rodents whereas Willem was not at all fond of them, so she unlatched her seatbelt and slithered herself to the floor to investigate the hole. She hid a smile of deep satisfaction with her long black hair when the cameraman gasped in shock. “Gotcha back, Network,” she thought to herself. She enjoyed occasionally showing off the fact that even though she used a wheelchair, she wasn’t nearly as helpless as she first appeared. She could even hear Willem cough down laughter. Then she reproached herself. She doubted it was Bob’s doing that the Network had tried to create unnecessary drama. She looked up at Bob in the gloom. “Only half paralyzed, Bob. Half paralyzed.”

“Ah, got it,” Bob murmured, seemed to relax, and refocus on the hole she had been aiming for. She returned her attention to it, too.

She pulled a small flashlight out of her pocket and flicked it on, bringing a sudden piercing white light into the gloom of the dark hallway. The sounds coming from the wall were really strange for a rodent, or rodents. She felt a pang of tension, and hoped the sucker wasn’t rabid.

“Team member Lark Blank, investigating what appears to be a mouse hole in the south end of Schoenmakker House, in hallway number 5.” She said for the benefit of the viewers and the recording camera.

“Careful Lark, don’t get bit.” Said Willem.

“I’m not going to kiss him Will, I’m just going to say hi,” she replied sardonically, and then grinned at him. Still, she backed up a little bit on her knees. “Tape measure, please.” Willem handed it to her, and she quickly measured the triangular hole, which turned out to be five inches wide by eight inches high. It was quite a door for a mouse. She handed back the tape measure and leaned down, pointed her flashlight into the hole, and looked in. She got the impression of movement, but couldn’t quite make it out. It sounded like it could have been quite a few mice or rats, or perhaps even a guinea pig, which was larger. It certainly sounded like a guinea pig. However she couldn’t get her eyes to focus on any fur. “Hey buddies, I’m not going to hurt you, “ I just want to say hello and be on my way.” She told them or it soothingly in a low, gentle voice.

The little child’s hand that reached out of the wall grabbed a fistful of her hair, was made blindingly white by the bright beam of the flashlight pointed directly at it as it shot out of the hole and directly at her face. Lark gasped loudly in pure surprise, unintentionally throwing the flashlight straight up and nearly into Bob’s face, who had been inching closer behind her, as she had been getting comfortable. She tried to jerk back rapidly, but was held in place by the determined little fist. Willem and Bob saw the little fist in her hair as she reared back abortively, and they both screamed, Willem in shock, and the cameraman in terror.