What the Ghost Left

"What do you mean it's lowering our property value? What it is doing is scaring the you-know-what out of me," he said. "We know it's for real because we both see it at the same time. It knows we're here for it interacts with us. And it doesn't like us being in the house."

"Well it can't really hurt us physically. It's sort-of nonmaterial. All it does is creep up on us, stare at us a bit and make some strange gestures. And OK it is able to throw small things around but it doesn't have a very good aim. Now we need to sell the house and you've told anyone who'll listen about it, including that reporter from the paper the house advert will have to go in," she replied.

"These aren't just any old strange gestures. It's some sort-of mad monk and it's been cursing us. And we have been going through some pretty bad times," he said.

"Let's get rid of it," she said. "I know what. I'll ask my Mum's friend. Remember she was the only one to believe us at first."

"Just what we need, an old wife's tale. I'm going on the Internet," he said.

So they each did their research into the other world.

"That's just what my Mum's friend said a week ago but at least we're singing from the same hymn-sheet," she said.

Maybe it's a hymn-sheet we need. The thing's a victim. It's earthbound. It could be stuck here forever. We've got to help it go to the light," he said almost kindly. "Let's get your Mum's friend in to help us."

"No, that's not fair. It's our house and it's our ghost, so it's our problem. We'll get this sorted ourselves," she said in a voice he knew not to argue with.

So they didn't argue but went out and bought or borrowed the things they needed.

"Why can't we have the lights on as well," he said. "I'm not very comfortable about this."

"Oh don't be such a big girl's blouse. You go on and light the rest of the candles. I'll lay out the other things then we can go round with the holy water and start reading out the service," she said.

"The air's getting very cold," he said as she got to the last page.

"Go to the light. Go to the light. Go to the light," they said it three times more or less together and waited. That was when a cold draught blew out the candles, all of them.

"There's something behind you," he said more slowly than he had meant to.

"It's got its hands on me. Get it off. Get it off me," she was screaming now.

Somehow they scrambled out of the room and right out of the house. They didn't stop until they got to the pub where they calmed down after a few drinks. After a few more they could see things a lot more clearly. One thing they realised was that when they were in the pub the ghost couldn't listen in on what they were saying. And what they were saying was 'No More Mr. Nice Guy'.

They went back to the house and threw on all the lights. Like a military raid with strict radio silence they said nothing at all. When they were ready they lit a single candle and put out all the lights. They waited and waited.

"The air's getting very cold," he said.

Silently a hooded figure began to take shape in the flickering candlelight. They could see it was carrying itself with a confident almost arrogant bearing. Carelessly it raised one hand signalling it was getting ready to deliver yet another dreadful curse.

It was the signal they had been waiting for. They rushed at it, shouting and screaming, making an unholy row and using some very unholy language. They throw bell, book and candle straight at it together with what was left of the holy water. It backed off as far as it could but it was in a corner. Now with the sort of courage that comes in the heat of battle they were right up close and personal. Its hood had slipped back and for a moment they could sort-of see its face.

It looked frightened and strangely embarrassed as it faded away.

The ghost was never seen again. But on damp days ever since there has been an embarrassing smell not to mention a bit of a stain on the floor in that particular corner.