A Short Walk for a Promo pt. 2

(A continuation of Clancy’s haunting encounter inside a glassblowers/pottery story.)

Clancy had braved the first floor, avoided the basement and crossed the hall without any too terrifying encounters. He had even braced himself for the next room. Yet it still took him by surprise. Ten shadow figures, back-lit by moonlight, stared at him. Or, more aptly, some chucklehead probably thought it was funny to set them up to stare at the door. Because they shouldn’t be able to move on their own.

The twelve figures were each between four and a half, and six feet tall. Their dark, hollow, eyes did little to accentuate their varied expressions. Some of the only pieces of the potter’s work to survive, the figures were human-sized copies of Egyptian Canopic Jars. Each had a different face, and mock hieroglyphics carved into their cylindrically-jarred bodies. If the etchings carried any meaning, they were only known to a man long dead. Why these had been one of the Potter’s last projects was anyone’s guess. Some claimed that he was making a 13th when the accident claimed the lives of him and his wife. According to some stories the figures whispered and moved at night.

The last time Clancy was here, with the rest of the Specter Detectors in toe, they had tried to get the figures to speak. But tonight, he really hoped they would remain silent. After all, he wasn’t here to commune with the dead. He was here because Klaus had insisted on filming the promotional video for their TV pilot outside of their first viral haunt. It was a nostalgic callback which maybe a half-dozen Spectators would notice.

He carefully moved around the 12 figures trying not to bump them. According to the stories, they did not like to be moved, and anyone who tried was plagued with misfortune. Something the person who had set them to stare at the rood must have ignored. There was a story that two of the jars had been sold, only for their new owners to die within the month, at which point the jars were returned.

All Clancy had to do was move on, but earlier he had heard a deep scraping noise coming from upstairs, he wanted to try something first. He approached the nearest figure, which had a jackal head and pointy ears. He gave it a gentle push. When that didn’t do anything, he pushed it a harder.  The jar began to rock, landing with a loud thump. It sounded like the noise he’d heard earlier. But there was an added rattle as though something heavy and dry was shaking inside the jar. The last time the Specter Detectors had visited, they were warned not to open the jars. He definitely wasn’t going to do that while he was alone. He felt a sudden urge to see what was inside, and knew it was time to step back and head to the next room.

Pulling out his flashlight, he opened the door to the south. The room was incredibly dark, two two large wooden shelves blocked out the windows. This room had belonged to the glassblower, and her work was obvious. A maze of shelves, desks and counters were scattered about. Spread across every available surface were glass animals ranging in size from little more than a quarter, to the size of a basketball.

Unlike the canopic jars, which were all the work of the potter, these glass animals were a mixed assortment. The glassblower’s pieces were amongst the menagerie, but it had become custom for any glassblower who sold objects in the shop to offer a piece of their own making. Those who didn’t were rumored to discover that their works would crack and shatter, never to be sold. Ghost hunting teams who visited often left their own offerings. Otherwise they would find cracks in lenses or heat spots where their touchscreens no longer worked.

If Clancy spent long enough looking around, he could find the small glass bear they had brought the last time they had come. But he didn’t want to spend too much time searching the room tonight, because, it was claimed that somewhere amongst the collection was medium sized hollow giraffe. A piece which shouldn’t exist. Supposedly it was the giraffe which the glassblower had been working on when she had died. It should have been incomplete, or shattered into a thousand pieces, but the men who had doused the flames had found it intact amongst the ruins and corpses. Seeing it, was supposedly an imminent sign of death.

It was said that those who found the giraffe, were compelled to take it home with them. There were half a dozen credible pictures of glass giraffes in photos of buildings soon to be claimed by flame. Of course, most of the photos could be easily photoshopped, since the rumo was as old as anything else in the store, and yet pictures didn’t begin to appear until after the the proliferation of the story on the internet. Still, Clancy wasn’t going to spend any time searching the room for the animal.

Clancy weaved between the cluttered surfaces, careful not to bump anything around him. Almost as afraid of the real financial fear of having to replace anything in the room as he was of any ghosts. He was not admiring a particularly well crafted glass sparrow in the in his flashlight when he heard a sudden scrape coming from behind him. At that same moment his light dimmed. Even though he could feel his throat closing up, he called out. “Hello?” He asked. No answer. His light died. The room was plunged into darkness. He didn’t remember closing the door behind him, but he must have. “Hello?” he asked again, half afraid something would answer.

Clancy had been the one to review the footage of their last visit to this room. While they were editing down their visit to post the first video, Cody had pointed out to him, that several of the glass animals changed positions between shots. Clancy half-thought it had been a joke by either Mark or Sheryl, but neither had admitted to the farce. When they moved on to the basement, they’d set up a static camera, hoping for more of a response, but none had come. And yet, when they returned to collect the camera, several glass animals had been missing.

Now, Clancy was stuck in the dark, alone, in perhaps the strangest room in the house. Well, that was on him. As the self proclaimed producer, he was the one in charge of the equipment, and that was meant making sure that the batteries in their flashlights were charged. Instead of fishing through his backpack for more, he opened his camera, turning on its external light, and focused on the viewscreen which had an amplified image. Just in case, he kept his finger on the record button. At least now, if something did appear, he’d capture it for later.

Using the camera he navigated the rest flat surface and glass animal maze and opened the door. Only to find himself back in the room with the canopic jars. “Huh.” He must have gotten turned around. Fortunately, the twelve large jars were not staring at him. They were still facing the door to the hallway. It remained open, and the light from the stained-glass lamp spilled in.

The Specter Detectors had also gotten lost the last time they were in the shop, which seemed absurd given how small the space was. Reviewing the footage, same Sam had suggested that it might be an effect of the ghostly stories about the place. “You get so wrapped up looking for what’s there, and what’s not, that your minds began playing tricks on you. You forgot to think about where you were.” Which made a kind of sense, maybe. They’d been looking for the basement and had circled the first floor twice. No one had told them about the secret door from the back room, but Sheryl had led them through it unknowingly.

This time Clancy was alone. Could that scraping sound have come from one of the jars? Had he already been turned around? Staring at the jars, an eerie feeling crept up his spine making him hesitant to return to the menagerie. With no prompting or evidence, his mind had conjured the image of a hunched and burn-scarred figure standing beside him, waiting amongst the score of glass animals. He turned slowly. Through the lens of his camera, several pairs of glass eyes stared back at him, but that was to be expected. The shadow in the middle of the room was not.

Hesitantly, Clancy glanced up, over his camera, and saw… nothing. Checking the camera again, the shadow was gone. This time, he propped the door to the room full of jars open. and he hurried through the glass door to open the door to the last room.

At some point he’d started breathing heavily, which was perhaps why he noticed the smell of charred wood. The final room, above the display room was the master bedroom. There wasn’t a bed anymore, instead the room was filled with office furniture, and a computer. This is where the current owner worked when she wasn’t running the shop below. She often complained about the burning smell, but explained it away as a remnant of the bar fire in teh basement. An old vent passed carried air and sound between the two rooms. Along with the burnt smell, some claimed to hear the sounds of parties long past drifting through the grates.

A man known as the Ohio Firebug was said to have slept in this room in the 1960’s. The home/shop was unoccupied for nearly a decade, and he’d squatted there, perhaps because of its sordid past. He’d never been convicted of any crimes in city, but he’d latter confessed to a rash of arson in the Midwest which claimed many buildings and several lives. He claimed to be haunted by the stench of fire, and the sounds of whispers egging him on.

However, as Clancy looked around the room, he noticed that they burning smell might also have to do with candles spread around the room. Many of them spread out in a circle on the floor. They had all been melted down to nubs. Someone had tried a ritual here recently. Clancy had a hard time thinking it was the shop owner. He scanned the rest of the room, and then moved to open the window on his right. Calling down to his friends and brother in the alley below. “Klaus, did the owner tell you if any other ghost hunters have been here recently?” He called down into the alleyway.

“Clancy!” Klaus called back up at him. “We were beginning to wonder if you got lost in there.” From above, standing in artificial fog, he looked more like a character in an old detective mystery than a ghost hunter, except for the purple Specter Detector logo on his t-shirt beneath the trench coat. He quickly processed his brother’s question. “I haven’t heard about any other ghost hunters.” Klaus answered.

Clancy heard another heavy shift inside the house, and he turned away from the window. The sound was followed by a low chittering of hissed laughter and the pounding of feet. the door to the jar room slammed shut. The sudden realization hit Clancy like a tone of bricks. He wasn’t alone in the shop! He hadn’t been all night! “Kids.” Clancy grumbled. He returned to the window. “Someone must have snuck in. I think they’re running away now.” He called to his friends. “They messed up the office.”

“I’ll check it out.” Cody was nearest the front door. If someone else had been here without permission, it wouldn’t do for their actions to reflect on the Specter Detectors.

“Get footage of them if you can.” Clancy called. “Whatever they were doing up here left quite a mess. We don’t want to be blamed for it.” Of course, Clancy could give chase, but anyone running away would be out of the shop, before he could navigate the glass menagerie.

“How did they get in?” Klaus called from below. “Was the door locked?”

“It was,” Clancy answered.stepping out onto the windowsill. They waited. Cody returned a few moments later.

“No one.” Cody reported, “And the door is locked.”

Klaus was silent below. “Well, whatever. Then we can help check out the shop.” He turned up to Clancy. “It’s already been five minutes,” It seemed like much longer to Clancy. “We don’t have time for this. We’re running out of dry ice, let’s film this promo before it’s too late.”

Clancy, who had been psyching himself up to search the shop, breathed a sigh of relief. “Sounds good to me.” He climbed out onto the fire escape. The cool breeze blowing though the ally chilled his face. He had worked up quite a sweat inside the shop, and all he’d been doing was walking.

“Cody, keep watching the entrance.” Klaus instructed. “Let’s film this!”

Clancy closed the window behind him. He didn’t want the strangers in the house to sneak behind him without knowing. He could listen for the sound of the window, while he helped to shoot the promo.

They filmed the introduction quickly. Klaus and Sheryl promised to investigate the horror unfolding in Mammoth Cave and pitched their hopes for a Specter Detector’s TV show. Clancy nodded along throughout making sure to film Sheryl’s best angle as instructed. Their dry ice ran out, after they had filmed everything twice. “That’s all we need.” Cody gave everyone a thumbs up. Mark looked up at Clancy, “Want me to meet you out front?” He asked.

Clancy turned to stare into the darkened room behind him. It might have just been his imagination, but it felt like someone had been watching him from behind. He put his hand to the glass. Despite the chill night air the metal handle to open the window felt hot. “I think I’ll take the shortcut this time. I’d rather we catch the invaders together.

No one had exited the store while they had been shooting. He lowered the retractable fire escape stairs and climbed down with ease.

As a group they approached the front of the shop. The door was still locked, the eerie green glow behind the counter, was still there, and nothing seemed to move inside. “Should we check it out?” Clancy asked.

“They could have snuck out the back.” Klaus suggested, “Or a window.” He checked his watch. “We don’t really have time to do a thourough search of the place. We need to edit that and upload it, before we leave for Mammoth Cave. Who knows what kind of internet we’ll get camping down there.”

“Are you sure they were in there tonight?” Cody asked. “Are you certain you weren’t just hearing things?”

Clancy had told them about burnt candles and the strange noises.

Cody stepped up to the window and stared into the first floor. “If someone really is putting this much effort into hiding, I’m not sure I want to find them.”

Klaus cleared his throat. “And we all promised Sam we wouldn’t investigate this place again without her. I say we tell the owner, and leave it at that.” He was smiling proudly. “Our promo is gonna kill, we’re on to bigger things.” Before they hopped into the Spectermobile, he pulled his brother aside. “I don’t know what happened in there, but I’m taking it as a sign. “Mammoth Cave will be our best ghost hunt yet!”

“I hope your right.” Clancy agreed. He let Sheryl drive as they left the site. He kept watch on the shop through the window. The muted streetlights lining the road gave the place an ephemeral glow, almost like the shop was ablaze. But the doors never opened, and nothing moved inside. At least, not for the short time he kept his eyes on the place.

The owner would tell them later, that they had found the candles, but no other evidence that anyone had been in the shop. “This kind of thing happens all the time, and neighbors often call to tell us that they see someone in the shop at night.” It was neither a confirmation nor a denial of any paranormal activity.

Of course, they wouldn’t hear any of this until well after the events of their Mammoth Cave adventure, and by then, the trajectory of the Specter Detectors was forever changed.

This remains one of their lesser known stories, and Clancy only speaks of that night, rarely.

End

(Author’s note: Why would I do a normal blog when I can, instead just experiment with things I want to write, but probably wouldn’t out anywhere else. Does anyone need a deep dive into the Specter Detectors to understand The Specters of Mammoth Cave? Absolutely not! However, these bums might show up again. And they go on their own spooky adventures from time to time, so I’m going to continue to write about those as well. I didn’t do much this Halloween. Just carve pumpkins and tell myself a ghost story. A story I thought I would share. If your read this, I hope you enjoyed it. If you didn’t, then how did you get to this last line? Whatever the case, thanks for the time, and attention. Party On!)