After all, what's October without a ghost story?
"Who You Gonna Call"
by L Cz
horat Suskin
Who you gonna call?
You gonna call me. You gonna call me, cause I hear better, see better.
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| geishaboy500 on flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/geishaboy500/1844991555/ Creative Commons Attribution license. |
What calls him, what lures him out, out of the bed late nights, weak moonlight washed out in the yellow glare of sodium lamps? Maybe if we didn't rend the night with streetlights and stoplights and porchlights you'd see too, but the night's gone around here. Just ancestral memory from the cave-dwelling just-found-fire days.
Yeah, I said ancestral memory. Don't I look educated to ya? You know what they say when you assume.
Anyway, the night's still there, at least a little. And the ones we put there. The restless spirits, the nightwalkers, the poltergeists, the haunts. You know that's what it is, right? That walks him back in past the wolf's hour, mud on his shoes, swearing up and down he don't know where he's been? The doc didn't help, the shrink didn't help, the pills don't help. So you come to me. Cause if it's nothing the docs or shrink or pills can fix, it's gotta be spirits, right? I mean, you know he's not traipsing through the mud at night to get a little somethin somethin from a lonelycute neighbor, right? Or did you try that kinda investigator already?
You know there used to be witches here. Young girls, troublesome girls. The kind who'd lure men out with tricks and magicks and deals with devils. naked dancing girls out by a bonfire back before we broke the night with the streetlamps and stuff.
Some say they're still there, even after we drowned them and burned them and hanged them. Still luring men out of their beds late at night, still tempting, still magicking.
So they got their hooks into your man, from past the veil? Bring him back tired and worn?
So.. who you gonna call?
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