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Ghost hunter story part 3
🕑 Added 2022-10-21 21:32:12 +0000 UTCNuhhhhdhhhgd sorry it’s PAINFULLY LONG LMAO….
⚠️CW (a bit detailed) emeto and brief mention of a panic attack! ⚠️
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Val almost didn’t want to poke his way into the bathroom that morning, already feeling the extra pressure of being bigger than when he went to bed. The bottom hem of his sweatshirt no longer flattened properly against his pants; instead, there was about a centimeter of space where his stomach stretched the fabric away from him. He studied himself in the mirror, feeling like he looked to be in his early stages of carrying twins- something he hoped he’d never be cursed with, considering he was a twin, (fraternal thank god. Dana had it tough enough being the sibling with good looks and height.) his cousins were twins, and his mother and aunt were twins. It ran in the bloodline and, at that point, it was visibly believable that he was capable of furthering the twin lineage.
Rico was already up and at’em when Val eventually gathered the courage to meander downstairs, somehow before Leo, and seemed genuinely surprised to see Val down there. Being the heavy sleeper he was, he was never usually within the first two to wake. But Rico was always, no fail, the first up. Fucking health nut.
“It’s nice to see you down here so early,” Rico greeted, passing him a mug of java as he leaned against the kitchen’s bar counter.
“Never wanted to be awake more in my life,” Val muttered tiredly, sipping cautiously at the drink. Rico’s specialty was making drinks piping hot. Good. Val hoped it burned the ghost as well as it scorched his entire throat going down.
“You still game to sit in on class talk to my kids about your occupation today?” Rico asked, and Val dropped his head into his folded arms.
“Ugh, fuck- yeah… I forgot about that. Yes, I’m still game, as long as no one cares I look like I’m about to pop like a balloon.”
“No one cares, at least no one on the school board does, but I do think the kids will be interested. As far as they’re concerned, that’s where babies come from. So you better prepare yourself to be an expectant parent instead of a possession victim today,” Rico laughed, and Val ran his hands down his face. He could manage that… Rico’s classes were only a couple hours long. Sounded heavenly compared to a full day of OT.
Leo was equally as shocked to see Val awake when he appeared downstairs, joining them at the counter.
“What’s got you up at a reasonable time?” He joked, and Val groaned, stepping around him to comfy himself at the arm of the couch.
“Nightmares. That’s what’s got me up,” he grumbled. Leo frowned, stepping around the couch to look sympathetically at Val. Val shrugged, then pulled his sweatshirt tight around his stomach. “What vegetable am I today?”
“A cauliflower,” he said, somewhat red faced after a moment of observing Val’s size. Val jokingly forced out a struggled breath.
“God, just one? Feels like more than that. Does that chart take ghost sizes into account?”
“Probably not. Should we be making one?” Leo said, flipping down on the couch next to him. “Day one- one eaten pizza. Day two, a dodgeball. Day three… bowling ball.”
“Jesus- a bowling ball? You think I’m bowling ball big?” Val whined, and Leo sniggered.
“Uh, yeah. You could fit a bowling ball in there right now,” he said, gesturing in a circle around Val’s stomach. “Maybe more like a basketball, actually.”
“Are those bigger or smaller?” Val sighed. “I think I liked the food comparisons more.”
“Bigger. And fine- day three, watermelon. But like, a medium sized watermelon.”
“I don’t know if that’s better or worse,” Val laughed. He looked down at himself though. They were still half a week out from the… rough estimate of when the priest could get back into town. At the rate he was growing, Val was starting to fear actually splitting. His organs could only stretch so far so quickly before finally giving up… right? He mentally brushed those thoughts away. No panic attacks that morning, please. He had things to do that day.
Val was forever indebted to his past self for preferring looser clothing- because his scrubs only barely fit properly when he pulled the top on. Thankfully it wasn’t borderline too small, yet, but it was definitely tighter than it was the previous day. Almost uncomfortably so, but that was only because the feeling of tight material stretched over his stomach made him feel even more vulnerable. Not to mention, even though the sun had risen, and poltergeists could only possess and un-possess objects when the sun had set, apparently said poltergeist was starting to get a bit cramped.
When he paused, fixing himself up in the bathroom mirror and turning to the side, he could officially see his stomach move. It was nothing like the first experience; it pushed sections of his stomach out, like a real baby would kick; one just below his ribs, another down at the base against his pelvis, and the last of the bunch right up against his belly button, making him shiver.
It had him thinking. Was the poltergeist a malicious spirit? A demon? Or was it the rambunctious spirit of a child? Val couldn’t settle on any conclusions himself, because if he decided that the ghost was a little lost baby, then he would open himself to feeling sympathetic. And that sympathy was exactly the type of attitude that would allow a demon to attach itself to his soul. So he continued to hate it with a passion.
“I’ll call Miss Albreight later and see if she has the history records on the house,” Leo suggested when Val reiterated his thoughts to the two in the car. “The only information I got was that it was throwing things. Possible that it’s a kid drawn to someone, like… motherly and safe. Maybe it saw the selenite we brought as cold and uninviting, whereas you were standing right there, perfectly warm and comfortable.”
“Ugh, don’t say that… I’m trying not to consider it a child. The way it possessed me was… violent and aggressive. But just… just the way it moved this morning. It was like a baby, not a demon. I can’t think about it too hard or it’s going to find reasons to keep possessing me. And I don’t want that,” Val said.
“Just gotta make it until Sunday night. If anyone can get the poltergeist out of you, it’ll be Father Knightly,” Rico said, and Val twisted himself to look at Rico in the back seat.
“Is that a guaranteed date?”
“Yep. He gets in in the afternoon, but we have to wait until dark anyways. He sent me an email this morning; thinks it’s best to do it on a Sunday, on the lord’s day. Apparently it should have a stronger effect if it’s a demon.”
Val would take any extra luck he could, honestly. He wanted the best chance to get back to normal and stop feeling so morbidly pregnant asap. He even had to use Rico’s arm as leverage when getting out of the car in front of the school. And the second they stepped inside the building, suddenly surrounded by colorfully decorated announcement boards, murals, cubbies, little handprints slapped on the walls with paint, and sounds of kids in their classes… baby fever hit Val like a brick to the face. He was strong and cool and had self control. …but kids were just so damn cute, he couldn’t help himself. It was the fact that he wasn’t around them so often that he could enjoy all the cute sappy shit.
Rico took Val to sign in as a visitor, earning him a little visitor sticker with his name, Val, written on it by the school receptionist. He stuck it on his scrubs underneath his embroidered name; Valerie. Just to confuse them honestly. He was ready for the usual onslaught of questions that usually came with people learning his full name. Valerie Freeman; are you a girl? Why did your parents give you a girl's name? Are you related to Morgan? In order; no, he had no clue, and he wished.
There wasn’t as much setup in the classroom before the kids arrived. They were a half day group of kids (which Val wished could have been the quota for all school grades) so Rico didn’t have to plan for a full day of lessons. They were basically toddlers after all- they just needed to work on their uppercase letters and counting to 20.
Val helped Rico situate all the tables with markers and lined paper for writing practice, set up a station of flash cards and other various learning toys near the whiteboard, and then unpacked Val’s few things. He wasn’t going to be explaining his job to a bunch of preteens- so he didn’t need much. He just brought a small foam yoga mat, a tennis ball, and an intricate poster of all of the labeled muscles in the body. Just for shock value, mostly.
The second the kids entered the room, it was like they laser targeted Val. Heat seeking missiles in kid form. They were already asking him an onslaught of questions, but before Val even had the chance to choke out a response to any of them, Rico had them rounded up sitting criss-cross applesauce on a colorful alphabet themed rug. He explained the plans that day- even called Val ‘Mr. Freeman’ to them, which immediately sounded like someone was addressing his grandfather.
Val didn’t get to take Rico’s place as the teacher until after the first hour, which meant he got to spend the first quarter of the day being stared at and occasionally helping a kid choose which marker to write their alphabet with. They were all eyes and ears the second they were gathered around the rug again for his demonstration.
All he basically did was roll out his little mat, have the kids take turns laying down and gently showing them different joints. This is your rotator cuff. It’s what makes your arm move. This is your acl. It’s what our friend Leo has torn three times in the past year.
Damn, these kids were like putty in his hands. They may not have understood most of the words he said, but they caught on for sure. They remembered where things were located, all wanting to get in on using the tennis ball to carefully work those muscles out. One of the kids was even able to point out each joint and muscle taught on Val.
He was exhausted by the end of it, thankful that he got a break while the kids all took their food to their desks to eat. Damn, Rico made teaching look and sound easy as shit. And it almost was. But it also was not at the same time. He felt woozy and foggy headed when he finally sat down, having been directed to the teacher’s chair by Mr. Ordonez himself.
He’d brought a lunch, but the more he started thinking about it, he didn’t want to eat it. He was running on a stomach filled with only coffee, and suddenly that was the worst thought in his head, despite the fact he couldn’t bring himself to add something of nutritional value to it. He could just feel a growing sourness… somewhere in his stomach. He wasn’t exactly sure where the pit of it was anymore. Regardless, he could feel the urge to throw up creeping up on him slowly. Not fast enough for him to make a run for it, but also not slow enough to push aside for later, though. So. He carefully stood up, briefly caught Rico’s attention, then made his way as normal as possible into the hallway.
It wasn’t difficult to find the restroom, and he hurriedly double checked that it was void of any kids before locking the main door and trapping himself in a stall. Oh god, it was weird being hunched over a tiny toilet. It felt like he was crammed into a dollhouse. And he wasn’t even tall. He had less than fond memories of hugging the toilet back in his freshman year of college, but he hadn’t gotten to that point since then. He only even threw up once at the start of that whole trash fire- so why all of a sudden? What brought it on? Probably the coffee, actually. He was lucky he didn’t drop like a rock when he stood up earlier.
After a few minutes of sitting still and waiting for the inevitable, Val felt his stomach contract and he finally threw up. Or… wait, what the fuck? He thought he threw up. It felt like he threw up. But upon opening his eyes… nothing. There was nothing in the toilet. It truly didn’t feel like he had dry heaved; did he just experience the most horrifically realistic fever hallucination?
He felt the nausea rise again in his throat, and as difficult and off putting as it was to force himself to keep his eyes open when he threw up, he managed it anyways. And… seriously, what the fuck?
It was one hundred percent invisible puke. How else could he describe it? Phantom puke? Invisi-barf? He could feel it; he gagged around it, felt the burning of it passing up his esophagus, felt his stomach clench painfully as it pushed some type of content up, heard it hit the water, saw the water splash as though something had broken the surface. Yet there was nothing. He felt a weird tingling sensation of panic in his chest. That scared him. He couldn’t explain it, but it scared him immensely. But… He did feel better though, so obviously it did something.
Val climbed to his feet, incredibly achy, pressing his clothes down smooth in the mirror. The space between the waist of his pants and the bottom hem of his shirt was more like an inch apart at that point instead of that morning's centimeter, and he irately tugged his shirt down further. Damn un-stretchy scrubs.
Rico immediately looked worried when Val returned. He hadn’t taken that long, right? Did he look like he was hiding something?
“What’s going on? You’re pale,” Rico asked, urging Val once again to sit down, and passing him a leftover baggy of apple slices.
“I… threw up,” Val said, absolutely positive that Rico has heard that line spoken exactly like that from a multitude of his students before. He was sympathetic, but Val continued quietly before Rico had the chance to baby him. “It was… I don’t think it was invisible but... I couldn’t see what I threw up. It was like I threw up ghost material.”
Rico’s sympathy quickly morphed into complete perturbation, and he grabbed Val’s shoulder.
“What?” He asked, kneeling down and lowering his voice. “I don’t know what that entails, but I don’t like it.”
“Me neither, trust me.”
Rico sat in thought for a moment, then stood up.
“Take it easy until class is out. When we get home we’ll take some precautions to make sure the poltergeist isn’t doing more to you,” he said, and Val nodded obediently. He wasn’t too uncomfortable to sit in that oversized office chair for two more hours. He enjoyed watching the class as Rico taught it, then briefly fell asleep at the desk until the school bell rang to finish the day. He saw the kids off along with Rico, humoring the few high fives and hugs, and then nearly collapsed in the car when Leo showed up to get them. Rico re-explained Val’s experience to him.
“Fuck, sounds gnarly,” Leo said- worriedly, but also obviously intrigued. “You okay?”
“I’m fine now, but. It was terrifying,” Val said, leaning the car seat back to relieve the pressure on his ribs.
“And it wasn’t just dry heaves?”
“Nope. Felt like I was barfing up water. I could feel it and I could hear and ‘see’ it hit the water.” Val put air quotes around the word see. Leo grimaced.
The ride back home was relatively quiet, mostly because Val submitted himself to closing his eyes and covering his face with his arm as he sat back. Upon getting home, Rico maneuvered Val over to the couch, disappearing briefly to retrieve an old briefcase that had been filled with a good amount of supplies that could be used to possibly ward off some spirits. Or at least put them at bay. Although, honestly, if someone who didn’t know them found that briefcase, they might just think they were either insane or very profound chefs.
While Rico lit a bundle of herbs over the top of a metal dish, Leo joined them, sitting on the middle of the coffee table next to the briefcase, with a bundle of old looking papers in his hands.
“So, I got these from Miss Albreight today,” he started, catching both of his friends’ attention. “I haven’t gone through them yet, but she said that any birth or death records would be in this.”
“Ohh, boy…” Val mumbled, sitting forward slightly to allow Rico to pass the bundle around the back of his head. “I’m not sure if I’m ready.”
“Better to know then not to know,” Rico mumbled, setting the smoking herbs onto the plate, lighting a small black candle, and then sitting down to listen intently.
“1824, the house is built; a couple called the ‘Maison’s. Both of them passed the house down to the husband’s nephew and his wife in 1836. There’s birth records documented here for the birth of their daughter, Lillian. In 1862, they passed the house down to said daughter. No death records yet,” Leo read out, scanning the page in between each date.
“Birth records for Lillian’s two sons in 1864. House is sold to the ‘Perry’s in 1899, which looks like it’s a family with two kids. Birth records in 1919 for a daughter. House sold in 1922 to the ‘Warrick’s. Goddamn, so many birth records, but apparently no one has died while in possession of the house. Yet.”
“Does someone have to die on the property for it to be noted? What if someone died off property while living there?” Val asked, and Leo shook his head.
“Didn’t matter either way. If someone living in the house died, be it on property or off, it would be recorded. So everyone who has owned the house died after relinquishing ownership,” he explained, then turned back to flip a couple pages ahead, stopping cold at a certain page.
“Death certificate,” he mumbled, holding the paper out briefly, before flipping the previous page back to the front. “Let’s see… a couple moved in in 1969, the ‘Whittier’s, and there’s a birth record for a little girl also in 1969. They must have already been expecting upon moving in.”
Val’s heart pounded in his chest as Leo flipped the page back over to the death certificate.
“The date of death is December 14th, 1970. Age… One year, three months, twenty-four days. Cause of death, congenital abnormalities. Name, Hadley Whittier.”
