31 Days of Halloween Tales - The Sisters Van Helsing - Part 4

The final chapter in the tale of two sisters:

The Sisters Van Helsing

Part 4

This was not my first rodeo with the spirit world and it would most certainly not be my last but I have to admit there was a moment of doubt when I saw Richie heading towards me, jaw set, eyes clear, machete raised, but like the Victrola, the steel blade lacked substance in a metaphysical way.

Which honestly, did not make me any less afraid, I had already seen what non-physical beings had done to Mitch and if I didn't want to be jumping right behind him, I figured I had best not let my guard down for a second.

The white cloud from my breath was practically blocking my view as I strode carefully down the hall. My brain was telling me to run but I thought avoiding both Richie and the woman would be the best plan of action for me to retain my sanity. Or what was left of it anyway.

Richard was running but it was more like a slow motion movie sequence to me. He brought down the machete as I easily slipped by him and although that machete wasn't real exactly, I could have sworn I heard the swoosh of the metal as it passed by my ear.

Luckily I was slightly faster than he was. The Van Gogh look was not something I was going for.

In three long strides I reached the door to my room and grabbed the knob to go in.

Unfortunately, the door I had left slightly ajar was now shut and locked. And the key was on the other side.

"Damn it!"

Yes, I cursed again.

Ramirez and the woman laughed behind me.


While I was pretty sure the Very Odd Couple couldn't hurt me physically, 'pretty sure' wasn't something I was willing to bet on at the moment. Forgetting all hotel manners and propriety, I began to scream and bang on the  door to our room praying that my sister hadn't stuck in a pair of earplugs while I was gone on my quest to silence the music.

She hadn't.

"What the hell, Dee?"

"I forgot the key."

"Why would you leave the room without the key? It's a hotel for heaven's sake."

I thought perhaps the hallway with a deranged satan worshiping serial killer ghost coming after me wasn't the best place for this conversation so I pushed her back into the room, slammed the door, and locked all four locks.

I don't know what I thought that was going to do against someone that could clearly walk through the door, locked or not, but I wasn't thinking clearly.

"Put some clothes on. I need your help."

Lori took one look at my face and didn't argue for a change.

She pulled her jeans and shoes on and asked me what was going on. I gave her the Reader's Digest version.

"Okay. I am not too worried about the couple in the hallway. They sound resourceful but they would have hurt me when they locked the door if they could have. "

"And the Black Dahlia?"

"Her, I am a little more worried about. She has gotten inside his head and Lord knows if I can turn that around in time."

She grabbed her purse and the velvet pouch that she was never without, tucked the room key into her pocket and took my hand as we stepped back out into the hallway.

Richard Ramirez and company were gone for the moment and we hurried down the frigid hall.

The door to Mitch's room was now completely frosted over as if a winter storm had just dropped by for a visit and when I knocked, it burned my hand.

No answer.

"Do you think he already jumped?"

"No, I think we would have heard sirens if he had. Step back."

Lori and our brother Abe both have a multitude of natural abilities that for some reason I do not. They were born with them, I was born with a love for reading and black and white horror movies, along a tendency to get myself into trouble.

Lori pulled a tiny vial from the pouch, whispered what I guessed was a prayer of some sort, then sprinkled the door with the contents of the vial.

The frost immediately disappeared and when I knocked again, Mitch opened the door.

He looked worse than before, pale had faded to nearly transparent and haunted had become gaunt and dead like,  however he was still standing and was still in this physical realm which was preferable to the alternative.

Lori didn't even flinch when she saw the figure on the bed. "Your music is too loud," was all she said to her.

I bolted past all of them, keeping one eye on the ghost and the other on the guy I was currently attracted to and slammed the window shut. I figured that would give us all a couple of minutes anyway to sort this all out.

Now, I would have gone for the nasty ghoul on the bed first but apparently Lori had had enough of Nat King Cole for one evening. She walked over to the still playing Victrola ghost, spritz some holy water on the thing and it disappeared mid-chorus.

Like I said before, Lori knew her stuff.

The moment the music shut off, Mitch collapsed onto the floor and the room began to warm.

I might have expected some screaming or tantrum throwing from the spirit but there was nothing. I watched her face as I brought Mitch around and noticed she took on the pallor of melancholy where I had seen only anger and hostility before. Lori walked over to her and whispered something I couldn't hear. The girl smiled a bit, shook her head and faded into the bedspread she was lying on as if she had never been there at all.

"Remind me never to lie on the bedspread here again."

"Remind me never to let you make the reservations again."

I laughed at that. As always, my sister was right.

It took Mitch several minutes to warm up completely and come around to what I suspected was his normal self. I told the small fib that we were with the hotel and someone passing by had heard him pass out and fall inside his room. He didn't remember any of it and it was just as well.

I'll tell him the truth later. Much, much later.

He introduced himself to me as Mitch Ryder, but not that Mitch Ryder, and we both laughed at his comic genius.

I think he will fit in just fine with this family.

31 Days of Halloween Tales - The Sisters Van Helsing - Part 3

The third part in the tale of two sisters:

The Sisters Van Helsing

Part 3

You would think that the source of blaring music at midnight in a hotel would be an easy thing to find but you would be wrong about that.

The entire hall was filled with music as if it were coming from the hotel walls themselves. It could easily have been coming from any one of the rooms on the fourteenth floor. Or even another floor. I couldn't be sure.

I may have been affected by the cold or by the fact that I was  in serious need of sleep but I inadvertently blurted, "Jiminy Christmas its friggin cold in here," and immediately wished I hadn't said that aloud.

Whatever was residing in these rooms, I knew I would be better off if it wasn't aware of my presence just yet.

I took a few tentative steps across the hall and carefully pressed my hand on the door. I wasn't exactly positive of what I was expecting but the door felt, well, like a door. Nothing special, it wasn't even particularly chilly which was odd seeing how cold it was in the hallway.

When you are exhausted things seem funny that really shouldn't and, "This isn't the door you are looking for," flashed through my mind nearly setting off a fit of  giggles in spite of it all.

"May the force be with me," came next and I continued  my search down the hall.

I tried the next three doors and found them all to be relatively normal save one that looked newer than all the other doors in the hotel. I pondered for just a second what might have transpired in that room as to cause such a remodeling.

Then I decided maybe it was best not to know.

The next to the last door on the right held some promise I thought. I knew there was serious cold emanating from the inside as the metal door knob was completely frosted over.

"It looks like we have a winner," I whispered softly and knocked.

I am not sure what I expected to open the door, a ghastly spirit or a nasty demon but I am quite sure I wasn't expecting Mitch Ryder.

Oh, just for clarity, not that Mitch Ryder.

He was a tall drink of water as my mother would say, at least six foot four to my estimate as I stood there in  the doorway.  Due to the fact that I am vertically challenged, I had to strain my neck up to see his face properly. He stood there looking at me, expecting me to say something as I was the one who knocked, but I was so captivated by his looks that for once, I was at a loss for words.

Thankfully he wasn't.

"Can I help you?"

This was a good looking guy. Well sort of, except for that whole pale, terrified, haunted thing he had going on. His pale blue eyes were  slightly glossed over, his black hair was somewhat disheveled, and he appeared to not have showered in a while, but other than that, he was gorgeous.

It was possible that he was a drunk or even an addict considering where he was staying but since I had the distinct impression that the music was coming from his room, I guessed it was something else.

"Ummm..."

Okay, so I couldn't think while I was staring into those satiny eyes and was suddenly more concerned about whether or not  my makeup had failed me hours ago.

He looked at me expectantly so I thought I had best say something.

"The music... it's just a little loud. That's all."

His eyes suddenly grew and he practically dragged me into his room.

"You can hear it?"

"Of course I can hear it. I just said it was  a little loud."

"Can you see her?"

He pointed into the room behind him and lying on the bed was a woman.

I use that term loosely however.

It was a woman. Or had been. At one time.

Now it was more like a ghastly reflection of one. Even so, I was jealous.

"You have company. Sorry."

His eyes cleared up suddenly and instead of a dazed look now they had more of a glare of annoyance. They were still stunning.

"What??? No! I do not have company! She doesn't belong here!"

Okay, so I needed to do something. The music was still blaring.

I found the source of the blasting music inside his room as I had suspected. Lori was right, it was an old Victrola playing. Except it didn't appear to be quite as solid as one might imagine it should.

"Is that your record player?" I wasn't sure what else to say, I was pretty sure it wasn't his.

"No, it just showed up when she did."

Sentimental Reasons started over again, all on its own I might add.

Terrific, a ghostly Victrola on top of everything else. How the hell do you shut it off?

I walked towards the figure on the bed. She should have been able to see me but she was too wrapped up in smoking her cigarette which was no more corporeal than she was. Did they bring everything from the other side with them?

I attempted to get her attention. "Miss? Can you turn the music down?"

Now the guy was looking at me as if I had lost my mind. To be fair, he really didn't know who I was at the time, so I forgave him. I can forgive just about any man that looks like that.

Regardless, the woman ignored me and went on smoking what appeared to be a Pall Mall.

I took a better look at her and from what I could ascertain from the remains of what appeared to be a lateral dissection, it was Elizabeth Short. Or a kind of "repaired" version of her.

I had seen photos of the Black Dahlia of course, but truth be known, I wouldn't know her from the Blue Dahlia. The injuries are what clued me in to who she was and that 1940's hairdo which I have to admit, she carried off pretty well.

Elizabeth Short had been cut in half at the midsection and while I could plainly see that she was pretty much still in two separate pieces, the edges of the wounds had been softened and blended to the point  you almost couldn't tell what happened at all.

Apparently they can Photoshop you once you are dead. I must admit, that bit of information gave me no small amount of comfort. I could now look forward to an afterlife sans cellulite.

Then she spoke.

"Mitch, honey. Get rid of this broad. We have things to do."

I didn't really want to think about what they had to do, even for me that sounded pretty obscene and I accept an awful lot on faith. But what concerned me more was that the glazed and dazed look had returned to Mitch's eyes.

"Sure babe. I'll get rid of her." His voice had a tone of resolution and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"You need to go."

It was just about then that I noticed the window in the room was wide open and I had a sinking feeling of what good old Liz had planned for Mitch.

"Yeah, okay. Well, just keep the music down and have a nice night."

Mitch didn't hear me or if he did he didn't answer. He was back under the spell of the Black Dahlia.

And I needed help if I was going to save him.

He shut the door in my face and I decided that it was time for Lori to get up. She wouldn't be happy about it but I wasn't happy thinking about tall, dark, and handsome being splattered all over Main Street either.

I reluctantly gave Mitch and Liz some privacy and turned around to return to my room.

The hallway was still freezing as when I first entered it but I wasn't alone in it  any longer.

About half way down the narrow hallway and between me and my hotel room door, stood Richard Ramirez.

He was slashing at a woman with what appeared to be a machete although I had never actually seen a machete before and I was just guessing that was what it was.

Thankfully, for me at least, the woman was already dead and had been for the last thirty years or so.

I couldn't hear them for some reason and I might have even had time to consider why that was so, if it wasn't for the fact that Richie had stopped his attack on the woman and had turned his attention towards me.

"Shit"

Like my sister, I can swear on occasion.