Calling Up The Dead

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Alec died in a robbery gone wrong. Angela wants to apologize for their row. She doesn't believe in all this stuff but she'll give it a try for her friend.

Submitted: September 14, 2016

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Submitted: September 14, 2016

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Calling Up The Dead.

 

“Come on, Angela! What have you got to lose?” Maria was reluctant to take no for an answer.

 

“I don’t know, Mar. You know I don’t really believe in all this stuff.”

 

“Well, do it for me then. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to sort this out. I’ve got Helen and Stacey sorted out and Ryan is the one with the board. We’ve all set aside time this evening so you can’t just not bother. Can you?

 

Angela knew she was beaten. There was no way she could face disappointing her friends so she would have to go along with Marie’s crazy idea, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. “Okay, Mar. You win! Where and when?”

 

Marie smiled. “I just knew you’d see sense, Angela. I thought the best place for it was here, you know – the familiar surroundings might help. They should all be here about 8pm, but I’ll come earlier to help you set up if you like.”

 

“Well, you’d better, Mar. I don’t know what setting up will involve.”

 

“Fine. I’ll come by about 7 then.” And quick as a flash, Marie had gone.

 

Angela spent the entire afternoon wondering exactly what she had let herself be talked in to. Her boyfriend, Alec was dead, killed in a robbery that had got out of hand. The worse thing for Angela was the guilt she felt. They had had an argument, a bitter one, and Alec had walked out. If he had not gone when he did, he would not have been present, would not have tried to intervene. If it wasn’t for that row Alec would still be alive.

 

Six months he had been gone. And for those six months Angela had spent every moment reliving that argument. It had been her fault. She should have been more reasonable, but she hadn’t been able to give in, to let Alec win. And Angela felt almost as responsible as if she herself had been the robber, as though it had been her finger on the trigger.

 

As the time ticked past Angela had more and more misgivings. Alec had been quite outspoken in his disapproval of all things spiritual and paranormal. Especially things that he called meddling – tarot and seances. And now her she was preparing to sit around an ouija board to summon him up and say sorry. Even if such things worked, she knew Alec would not play along.

 

It was a waste of time but she would do it for Marie. Angela felt she owed that much to her friend, for all the hours she had spent being a shoulder to cry on. And it would be good to see Helen and Stacey; shame about Ryan though, he was Helen’s brother and had never hidden his dislike for Angela.

 

Marie and Angela moved the table to a more central position. They gathered up five chairs from around the flat and set them around the table. There was a light almost directly above the table now. Marie took out the bulb and changed it for another.

 

“It’s low wattage, very dim. I don’t think spirits like bright lights, at least they don’t in the movies,” Marie laughed.

 

“Don’t you think this is all just a big waste of time, Marie?”

 

“Who knows, Ang? But it can’t do any harm now, can it.” Marie looked out of the window. “Look, here they are now. At least try and pretend you’re giving it a chance even if you aren’t, okay!”

 

Angela nodded and went to open the door.

 

Ryan placed his precious board on the table. He sat and waited for the four women to take their seats. Stacey rolled her eyes at Helen then said, “Ryan will tell you just what to do, Angela. He’s done this a few times now.”

 

“Really!” said Marie. “Have you had much success, Ryan? You know, with contacting those that ‘are no longer with us’?”

 

“Maybe, Marie. At least I’ve had a couple of satisfied clients. But you have to approach this with an open mind. You think it’s going to be pointless then it will be.”

 

“Well, there we are then girls. We have to all believe it is going to work.”

 

Angela found four pairs of eyes all facing towards her. “Okay, okay......Alec is going to talk to me! Are you happy now?”

 

“Believe, girl, believe,” laughed Marie.

 

They sat around the table in the dim light. They all rested a finger on the planchette while Ryan spoke softly but clearly. Nothing happened. The planchette sat in the centre of the board not moving towards either Yes or No, keeping well away from the alphabet that was printed ready to receive messages.

 

After a while Helen started to fidget and Stacey started to yawn. “Look, Marie, Angela. We’ve got to get going. We’ve given it a go but we’re not going to sacrifice our whole Saturday night to my brother’s nutty idea.”

 

“Sorry, guys.” Helen looked sheepishly at them. “You can carry on though, without us. Can’t you?”

 

Ryan nodded. “Yeah. Three will do. I think we might have more chance of success without my sister’s cynicism, anyway.”

 

Angela, Marie and Ryan repositioned themselves. “Try closing your eyes and picturing Alec, Angela,” Ryan said. “It might help.”

 

So while Ryan sat calling and asking, Angela shut her eyes and tried to summon up a clear picture of Alec as he had looked just before he’d walked out of that door. She could still picture him so well, so long as she did not think too hard about the details.

 

“It’s no good. I’m sorry.” And Ryan did sound genuinely disappointed. “Sometimes, they just don’t want to play and I guess today was one of them.”

 

“I know, let’s all have a break. Shall I make coffee, Angela?”

 

“Yeah, thanks, Marie.”

 

Angela stayed sitting at the table after Marie and Ryan had left for the kitchen. She felt her eyes being drawn towards the board. Her fingers itched to touch that planchette but she felt that she shouldn’t. That she should at least wait for Ryan and Marie.

 

But where was the harm? It’s not as if it did anything, anyway.

 

Angela reached out her left hand. She reached out her right. Gently, she rested both of her index fingers on the planchette. She could feel it growing warm. She could feel it start to move around. She wasn’t pushing it, she knew she wasn’t, so what was going on?

 

A.....N........G.......E.......L........A

 

Her name? It had spelt out her name. “Alec?” she asked.

 

The planchette moved and pointed to ‘No’.

 

“Who are you? What do you want? Ryan! Marie!”

 

As Angela called out the bulb blew, plunging her into darkness. The door to the kitchen slammed shut. Something loomed over her, a shadow, a massive shadow. Somehow the shape did not seem quite human.

 

Angela screamed. She no longer felt guilty, just very, very scared.

 

When Ryan and Marie finally forced their way through the door there was no sign of Angela. It was just as though she had vanished in to thin air. The ouija board, or what was left of it, was nothing more than a burnt and ashen heap at the centre of the table.


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