Page 50 of Shenanigans

The SWAT team’s armored vehicle was idling one street over, awaiting orders to breach the building.

I quickly checked on Tinkerbell who was curled up on the bottom bunk bed in the rear compartment. Poor little thing was tuckered out from all the excitement today. I grinned. Her snoring was almost as loud as my Dad’s.

Dutch called, “Is that awful noise coming from that itty-bitty dog?”

“It is.”

“For Christ’s sake, close the door.”

I slid it shut and walked back into the command area.

On the CCTV monitors the setting sun cast an ominous glow over a big, rusty metal building surrounded by a security fence lined with razor wire. Lopez Meats had seen better days. So had the four skinny pit bulls guarding the business.

Behind the slaughterhouse was a large stockyard filled with several hundred agitated cattle. They milled about, mooing pitifully. An aura of death hung over the area. Was it from all the slaughtered cattle or something more?

I took a quick mental peek. Crap. There were human corpses inside the building. Or what was left of them. “I know where Dead Maria’s sister is.”

All the officers in the surveillance van turned and stared at me.

Dutch rubbed his face. “Let me guess. The slaughterhouse?”

“Yes, and I sensed more bodies.”

Lieutenant Wilson, a distinguished looking, older black man, asked, “Let me get this straight. Not only can you communicate with animals, but you’re a medium too?”

“It’s a new talent,” I responded modestly.

The Lieutenant steepled his hands and examined me for a long moment. “How many bodies?”

“At least three,” I answered.

“Kandi was able to summon Maria Torrez’s spirit and get the details of her death,” Dutch stated.

“Without proper training, conjuring the dead can be dangerous, but all we need is the location of the bodies. Once you’re on the esoteric plane, find out where they’re buried and get out,” Lieutenant Wilson instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

Dutch added, “Don’t take any risks.”

“I won’t.” I hated the hint of nervousness in my voice.

“Good. Let’s get this show on the road,” the Lieutenant said and handed me a cross. “It’s been blessed by the Pope.”

A sensation of peace radiated from it. He hadn’t gotten this cross off eBay. Holding it tightly, I opened my psychic senses and cautiously reached out.

The esoteric plane was a cold, frightening void. An unearthly stillness surrounded me. I had visited this plane of existence once with Grandma Hester’s psychic guide. I didn’t remember it being quite so alien or hostile.

The quiet was abruptly shattered by the hideous howling of the damned. Out of the darkness dozens of tormented spirits rushed me. Horrific scenes of their torture and murders slammed into my head. I screamed as their agony became mine.

In a dim corner of my mind, I heard Dutch calling my name, but I couldn’t break free of the apparitions “Go into the light. Go into the light. Go into the light. They’ll be punished. I promise. They’ll be punished,” I yelled, but no doorway appeared. What had I done wrong? How did I fix it?

The spirits wailed in despair.

The cross heated in my hand. I drew heavily on its energy and reached out, searching for any kind of help. I couldn’t find Grandma Hester, or my great grandmother Anastasia or any heavenly entities.“Please, I need your help. Show me how to free these trapped souls. My strength is fading. If I don’t break free soon, I’ll join them in this unending hell.”

I shrieked as the ghastly murders assaulted my mind, one by one. The pain was overwhelming.“Please help me break the cycle. Please. I need that friggin’ doorway to the other side.”

Crackling white energy suddenly danced around me. Seconds later a wondrous power flowed into me and a gentle female voice said,“Miraculin sepulcrum ibidem solus novum.”

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