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Haunting me

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Eric sat across from the real estate agent, who through the whole process was fidgety. She’d often flash a nervous smile when talking about the property in question. The tour of the place was even worse than this back-at-the-office interview, she was jumpy. Despite all this,  Eric remained enthusiastic throughout the whole thing. For as long as he could remember, he had always wanted to own a hotel. He’d always wanted to make a home away from home for all kinds of people.

“Eric,” The agent said chewing her lip. “There’s something I should disclose to you.”

Eric looked at her curiously, and deep down he knew what she was about to say.

“The hotel, well…” She chewed on her pen. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” Eric raised an eyebrow.

“Well, the hotel is said to be haunted. Numerous guests have complained about noises in the night, things going missing. They’ll get back late and someone will bump into them, and when they turn around there’s no one there. Bangs and clangs that come from nowhere.”

“In your own opinion, would you say it’s haunted?” Eric asked. 

“Truthfully? Yes. I, uh. When I was inspecting the property to put it up for sale I could swear there was a figure of a tall, dark haired man on the bottom of the grand staircase. When I went to ask the owner about it, I turned to point him out and he was gone. It was only a matter of seconds.”

“Huh.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?” She asked.

“Oh no hun, I do believe you.” Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and handed it to the agent.

“Clairvoyant?” She queried. 

“I heard about the history of the hotel and well, I thought that maybe I could make a real business out of this place. Help those poor souls move on and allow me to make a fine hotel.” Eric grinned at the agent and began to sign his paperwork, making that place his own.

 

~*~

 

L’hotel Oak was a building with age, charm and history. All things that Eric Bittle, the new owner of the hotel, adored. For as long as the hotel had been a hotel, it had been given the name The Hotel Oak, as for many years it stood made from oak. Throughout the decades, previous owners had slowly replaced it with stone after a fire broke out in the kitchen and almost burnt the place to the ground.

He’d found the place listed in a newspaper, cheaper than what most houses were selling for in the area, the new owner so desperate to pass the place on that the price was so low that Eric was sure it was a scam.

A scam, no. Haunted, yes.

Eric could do haunted, after all, he was a clairvoyant.

For as long as he could remember he was always encountering ghosts. Wherever he went, they were there. Some were kind, others lost, few looking to harm and wreak havoc. A very vivid memory that stood out to him was the day that his grandfather died and appeared in his living room.

“Eric?” He’d asked, and Eric had promptly burst into tears with the knowledge that he’d past. Only being young and unaware of his clairvoyance, he ran to his mother and exclaimed that grandpa had died. His mother, concerned at this outburst, calmed him down and told him all was okay. An hour later, she held the phone to her ear sobbing as she was told the news.

The entry to the hotel was beautiful. Large wooden doors and a deck that stretched across the front were only a preview as to what could possibly be inside. When he first came to look at the place, this is what drew him in the most. He thought ‘If the outside could be this beautiful, there can only be better from here.’ His best friend Lardo stood by his side, her mouth agape at the place in front of them.

“I can’t believe how cheap this place is!” She exclaimed.

“Well, apparently it’s haunted.” He shrugged. “Lots of entries on ghosts dot com. And the real estate agent didn’t seem all too keen on doing an inspection of the place either.”

“Did you feel anything? While you were in there?”

Bitty, as he was once told by another somewhat clairvoyant family member, was an empath. He had the ability not only to see and reach out to spirits, but in many cases could feel what they were feeling. The ability did not apply to living people as much, in that area he could tell how someone was feeling as easily as another.

“Not particularly.” He shrugged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There was something there, but it was dull? It was like I was under water.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway, lets get inside and find out just how haunted this place is.” He held his arm out, grinning. “Ready?”