WCPC handles all your paranormal needs. Poltergeists, ghosts, or mystical apparitions, we can help. We employ the most talented wranglers who can control even the toughest demons around. Call the consultants of Watercrest Cannon Paranormal Consultations to help.
WARNING: The team of psychic consultants discover demons, ghosts and maybe love at Brown-Blythe Manor… Sometimes Ghosts Betray
“He’s not answering. Fucking phone! Damn it.” I dropped my cell onto the coffee table and rubbed my hands over my face. The urge inside me intensified, pushing me to do something. Anything.
“No. Shut up.”
I fell back against the couch and slid down, wishing I could hide, wishing that voice urging me to seek out my ex would stop. I didn’t need or want Bryan. I didn’t give a fuck about being alone.
Alone? You’re never alone. You’ll never be alone.
Bryan’s body loomed over me. He grabbed my shoulders, straddled my hips. “I’ve got you.”
He pulled me forward and kissed me, roughly. I tried to push him off, but he was stronger than me. He forced his tongue inside my mouth. The universe exploded behind my eyelids.
The demon stood in my living room. His skin was the color of snot, and his eyes flashed red. His horns grew from a thick brow, and when he laughed, sharp—razor-sharp—teeth glistened in the lamplight. Evil. Pure and simple. It permeated the room with its putrid smell like something electric had burned, like wires or a toaster. The scent tingled up my arms. It was the same demon we’d fought in Kentucky when I was part of the WCPC team.
“You will find Bryan.” No longer in my head, his voice echoed through my apartment, loud and booming.
I straightened my shoulders. That fucker wasn’t going to tell me what to do. “Fuck off.” My voice sounded like a mouse compared to the demon’s.
His evil chuckle swarmed in my head like bees.
I could see him pushing me to the ground, ripping my clothes off with his long claws. He held me down and stroked his long, thick cock over my ass. It was far too large to fit, but he meant to do it. He shoved my legs up with his own, and they were covered with slimy green hair.
“Get off me!”
Another sinister laugh.
The demon pressed the head of his cock against my hole.
Last chance. Where’s Bryan?
“No!” I screamed. The pain assaulted me as he pushed his cock in hard, tearing me open.
The demon laughed as he fucked into me, and I screamed louder. I felt his cock pushing so far in I could feel it in my abdomen. Then my stomach ripped open, blood splattering. I screamed again.
Almost as quickly as it started, the demon was gone, and I was alone on my couch, still fully clothed. It hadn’t happened. I felt my abdomen, checking to be sure it hadn’t been real. I was tired but felt no pain.
I can make you see, feel…experience…anything I want, Chad. Anything.
I swallowed hard and reached for my cell. How the hell could I fight that? Fuck Bryan, anyway. He’d been the Wrangler on that engagement. This was his fault. His fault that I’d been sent to that worthless facility. His fault that I still had the bastard in my head.
I flipped through my contacts and tapped on the one I knew would give me information.
“WCPC. How can we help you today?”
“Uh, yes. This is Mark Simmons. How can I help you?” His voice was soft and inviting. It made him great at customer service, relaxing the clients. We had been friends until the incident at Mammoth Caves. They all treated me differently after that, and I guess I couldn’t blame them.
“Yeah, Mark. It’s Chad.”
“Oh, Chad. Hello, how are you?” His voice went from nice and pleasant to overly sweet and dramatic. I cringed at the thought of my friends faking it with me.
“I’m good. Really good.” I could fake it, too. “Just wanted to say hello. See how things have been.”
“Oh. Great. Things are great. Uh, did you want Bryan?”
“Uh, no.” Casual, cool, collected, I had to keep calm. “I think he’s on some client engagement, somewhere…”
“Oh yeah, they’re up in Brunswick with that haunting thing. Gives me chills thinking about it. Don’t know how he deals with all the ghosties and such.”
“He’s a dream, right?”
“Yeah, you’re so lucky, Chad.” Mark had slipped right back into our old conversations. We had always dished on Bryan and other hunks at WCPC. “Oh! I guess not anymore. Sorry.” He remembered that we’d broken up. Bryan would never have done that to me. He’d tried, but I couldn’t trap him in a relationship when I wasn’t sure I’d ever be normal again. If Bryan wouldn’t break it off, and he would never, I did it for him. I wasn’t going to wallow in it.
It was a mistake.
“No, really. It’s fine. I actually have a new boyfriend.” Where was Trystan? I couldn’t remember.
“That’s great. I’m so happy for you, Chad. You should bring him by sometime. We can do lunch or something.”
“That’d be nice, Mark.” I could just see bringing my drug dealer boyfriend up to the overly classy offices of the consulting firm. Not happening. Ever. “I’ll do that.”
“I have to go now. I’m meeting him in a few—”
“Oh, right. Sure. Listen, want me to give Bryan a message for you or anything? Tell him you called.”
“Nah, I called to talk to you. I’ll catch up with Bryan later.”
“They have him scheduled out for about a week, but with a definite return time pending. If you can’t reach him, let me know, and I’ll get a message out. And, Chad?”
“I miss you. Miss our talks.”
“You’re a great friend, Mark. Hope we can still be friends?”
“Right. Yes. Call me later!”
“You got it.” I clicked my phone off before he could even say goodbye. I got the information I needed, and actually being friends again would only put Mark in danger. Besides, what would we talk about? Oh, yeah…still got a demon living in my head. How’ve you been?