Jeremiah. Is. Here

“This is a bad idea.”

Myles groaned as his fingers zipped across his chipped phone screen. “Get some new dialogue, idiot. You’ve said that seven times.”

Nick bit into his lip until the bitter tang of blood threatened to spill over. “It’s disrespectful! The murder was only five years ago. They still have family nearby!”

Dominic huffed, kicking his feet up against Myles’s passenger seat headrest, then kicking Myles for good measure. “Yeah, while the shithole house has been rotting away. Why should we care if the family doesn’t?”

“Besides, plenty of people have been there,” Juan added. “The Wallace Murder House is Hallow’s greatest attraction.”

“That’s fucked up,” Nick whispered. “This whole town is fucked up.”

“What’s really fucked up is how much of a meat-show this car is. I thought you were inviting the girls, Juan!”

“Girls are too smart to come to an isolated location with you,” Myles murmured into the pooling cotton of his hood, as far from Don’s mud-crusted boots as possible. 

“Hello, what am I?” Melanie said from behind the wheel. 

“Our Uber driver.”

“More like your babysitter. You’re all almost twenty years old. Why can’t you drive yourselves?”

Myles’s phone let out a piercing screech followed by an enthusiastic ‘Game Over.’ “Aw, I crashed. Again.”

Melanie sighed. “Why can’t the rest of you drive?”

Juan leaned over the center console, elbowing Dom’s legs away. “Dom and I got our licenses suspended after that wicked drag race downtown, remember?” 

Dom smirked. “And Nick is too much of a wimp to handle any horsepower.”

“Sorry, Melanie. I know you have better things to do.”

She sighed and met Nick’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

“Both of you girls can stop bitching. We’re here.”

The Wallace Murder House, what used to be 452 Tansey Lane, stood like a modern mausoleum in the middle of twenty overgrown acres. Ivy crawled up the sides and burrowed deep into the leaf-logged drain pipes. The facade’s soft green siding was sun-bleached a bone white and spattered with mud. Even the twisted columns that made the house a regular feature in Hallow Home Magazine looked more like rotting birch than the bristlecone pine they were meant to resemble. 

Dom shoved Nick out of the SUV onto the rocky driveway. “Move, I gotta get our shit.” 

“You had a whole other door,” Nick grumbled.

“Too bad you don’t have a whole other face. Or legs. Or arms. Can your scrawny ass even carry this?” Dom lobbed the tripod at Nick who scrambled to catch it. 

“Here,” Juan said, smiling at Melanie, “you can take the ghost hunting bag.”

“What? I’m not going inside. Mom just told me I had to drop you off!”

“You always do what mommy Olsen wants?” Dom sneered.

Melanie flicked him her favorite, most manicured finger. “You know how our parents are.”

“Controlling.”

“Batshit.”

“Religious zealots?” The non-Olsens chimed. 

Myles slunk up behind her and shook his sister by the shoulders. “Melanieee, don’t leave me here with them. They’ve never even played Boulder’s Bridge IV.” 

“You can come with me, then, because there is no way I’m stepping foot in that house.”

“Well, there’s no way you’re going home tonight, either.”

Melanie glared up, up, up to meet Dom’s blazing eyes. “Watch me.”

For once, the oaf didn’t say a word. Melanie slid back into the driver’s seat and threw the SUV in reverse. The wheels sputtered and spun, digging further into the gravel. 

Dom knocked on her window and grinned. “Having some trouble?”

“What did you do?”

He flicked a small blade between his fingers. “Nothin’ much. I’m just real good at putting things in holes.”

“Fucking gross! I cannot believe you!” she spat. 

Myles hummed. “Yeah, that was lame. You poked the holes in the tires, so the bit doesn’t work at all.”

“How can you be so calm about this? That’s hundreds of dollars he just cost me!”

Juan slung an arm over his shoulders. “Dom’ll pay for it, right buddy?”

“Whatever. Just grab a bag and get moving.”

Myles slinked past her and grabbed the smallest item from the trunk. “It’s already getting dark, and the auto shop is closed anyway. Just stay.”

“Why are you friends with them, Nick?” Melaine asked as her brother made it to the front door. “Myles is in too deep. He’s known those guys since middle school, but there must be other freshmen at that liberal arts school of yours, better people to spend time with.” 

Nick shrugged. “Myles is my roommate. We matched on the survey and everything.” He eyed Dom in the doorway as he shoved Juan’s head with enough force to snap a log in two. “I don’t go out much, so it is what it is.”

“But why come tonight? You clearly don’t want to be here.”

His shoulders were hunched up so high they nearly covered his ears. “I hate that they’re here, but I couldn’t just stay home.” 

“… Because of the stories?” she whispered.

Nick’s eyes flicked up slowly to meet hers. “Do you believe in ghosts, Melanie?”

She swallowed. “No.” 

“Then why are you so afraid?”

“I–”

“Oi! Stop yapping and help us get this shit set up.”

Melanie and Nick stared at the house for one long breath before following the others inside.

*** 

“This is where it happened. On this night, five years ago, the Wallace family was slaughtered by one of their own. They were eating dinner at this very table when Jeremiah Wallace, the family’s seventeen-year-old son, supposedly snapped. 

“He stabbed his father first, then lunged at his mother and krrrik,” Juan ran a finger over his throat, “dead. His brother Adam lasted longer, but Jeremiah was a trained fighter. Little Adam never stood a chance. 

“Rumor has it Jeremiah sat among the bodies as he waited for his twin sister Mary to come home. He waited and waited and waited, sat in her chair with her tablesetting still perfectly laid out. Later police reports say she had decided to spend the night at a friend’s. When Jeremiah realized she wasn’t coming back, he decided to take his own life before he could get caught.”

Nick shoved his hand in front of the camera lens. “Do you need to tell the story like that? This isn’t some movie, Juan. Real people died here.”

“Come on, man! It’s for the fans! We’ve got to get them invested.”

“Isn’t doing things for your ‘fans’ what put you in jail last month?”

“Just for a night! It wasn’t a big deal,” Juan said with a shrug.

Melanie huffed. “Says the sheriff’s son.”

“Says the Senator’s daughter,” Juan sings. 

“Holy hell, will you all shut up so we can do this thing?”

Myles flopped onto the family room couch just a step down from the kitchen. Dust plumed around him like a filthy halo. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited about anything, Dom. You’re more pumped than I was at the release of Last Legacy V.”

“Well, we ain’t ever had a night like this one.”

“What are you planning to do?” Melanie asked. She hadn’t made it past the narrow hall that led from the front door to the kitchen. 

“Bring the bag and we’ll show ya. Come on, where’s that spunk of yours now?”

“Like I have any interest in getting closer to you.”

Juan ran over and tugged the bag off her shoulder. “I’ll take it. You might as well come in. No use lurking in the doorway.” 

Step by torturous step, she made it down the hall. The walls seemed to constrict the further she went until she was choked between the staircase and the dark sitting room. She didn’t even try to peer inside before crossing the threshold into the kitchen and pressing her back against the nearest wall. 

“Let’s start with the spirit box! Myles, buddy, this one’s yours.”

Myles sighed, plucking the device out of Juan’s hand and starting it up. 

“You’ve got to tell the viewers what it is!” Juan shouted over the cacophony of white noise and clipped voices. 

Myles turned to the camera and looked into the lens with as much vigor as a dead fly. “This is the spirit box. It’s loud.”

“Gonna need a little more detail.”

Myles sighed deeper and louder, but no sound was strong enough to mask the little box’s racket. “Supposedly, ghosts can talk through rapidly changing radio frequencies. Why? Dunno. Is it actually possible? Don’t care. Can I be done now?”

Juan laughed. “Sure, let’s get started. Is anyone here with us?”

They all quieted down to listen. “Y-re-a-ne.”

“Did that ghost bitch just say urine? They callin’ us piss?” 

Juan shook his head. “Not everything is a message. Sometimes it’s just the stations changing. Let’s try again. Is there anyone here who wants to talk to us?”

“Ruu-n.”

“Well, that feels pretty definitive,” Melanie said. “Let’s go.”

“One-word answers might not be real. We need something longer to verify it’s really a spirit. Oh! We also have this.” Juan sifted through the bag and pulled out a hefty flashlight. “If there’s someone here, you can also turn this on. Now, is there anything you’d like to say?”

“Ruu-n. Ki-iller.” 

Dom laughed. 

“Are you doing this?” Melanie snapped. “It’s not funny.” 

“Nah. This is all real. It’s just hilarious.”

“How? How is this funny?!” Nick asked.  

The flashlight on the counter flickered. 

“Oh! Good job. Maybe we should try the Ouija board if you’re good at interacting with the physical realm.” Juan pulled out the board and set it on the kitchen table. 

“You’re supposed to do something when you start, right? Like, to make sure nothing bad happens?” Melanie asked, hands tucked deep into her sweatshirt pockets.

Myles hummed. “That’s what we did in Paranormal Arrival: Last Destination.”  

“Who cares.” Dom shoves his hand on the planchette. “Any dead people here?”

“Dom!” Nick’s shout is drowned out by a surrounding gasp as the planchette moves to YES.

“You really think you’re funny, huh?” Melanie gritted out. “We know it’s just you moving it.”

Dom rolled his eyes. “You do it, then.”

Melanie stared at the little piece of wood like it might kill her. Slowly, she reached out and touched it. Before her fingers could fully settle, the planchette darted across the board from letter to letter, nearly too fast to be read. 

“Did anyone catch that?” Juan asked. 

Melaine swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Jeremiah is here,” she whispered. The planchette careened across the board with such force that her fingers were dislodged. It kept going, repeating the message over and over. Jeremiah. Is. Here. Jeremiah. Is. Here. Jeremiah. Is. Here.

In the background, the spirit box sang, “Ruu-n. Ki-iller. Ki-iller. Ki-iller.” 

Melanie leapt to her feet. “I’m leaving. I’ll sit out in the car if I have to.”

“Nah,” Dom said from behind her. When had he moved? “You’re staying right here.” 

He yanked her down into one of the rickety kitchen chairs. Before she could think, before she could move, something wrapped around her chest and squeezed. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?!” Melanie hadn’t heard Myles yell outside of co-op games in years. 

“Just making sure this little party of ours doesn’t end too soon.

“Where did you find rope?” Rope. He tied her to the chair with rope. 

“Find it? I brought it with me.” Did he plan this?

Myles’s phone was like a lighthouse in the darkness of Melanie’s mind. 911 glowed across the screen and his finger hovered over the little green button.

“This game isn’t fun anymore. Let her go, or I’m calling the cops.”

“You’ll all be in deep shit too. The sheriff swore he wouldn’t let us off again. Breaking-and-entering, trespassing… that’s no good on a record.”

“We didn’t break anything.”

Dom snorted. “Tell that to the busted lock.”

Myles only faltered for a second. “It doesn’t matter. I’m calling.” He put the phone on speaker as it rang once, twice, then cut off during the third. “What?” He tapped the screen a few times. “It’s dead.”

“You played too many games. Here, use mine.” Nick passed Myles his phone. It rang once, twice, dead. 

“Juan, give me yours.”

Juan rubbed at his neck and sent Myles a sheepish stare. “I don’t want any trouble, man.”

“My sister is tied to a chair!”

“Dom, let her go.”

Like an ugly statue, he stood firm until Juan pulled a little knife from his pocket and moved to cut the rope. Dom stepped into his path. “Can’t let you do that.”

“What’s the big deal? She doesn’t have to be here.”

The spirit box flared back up, and the violent hum of radio static spiked into a brutal chorus. “Te-ell the-em. Te-ell the-em. Te-ell the-em.”

“Looks like the ghosties want a secret circle,” Dom smirked then whirled forward to steal the pocketknife out of Juan’s hand. He pointed it at Melanie.

Myles stepped between her and the blade. “I’m gay.”

Dom’s face screwed up. “What? What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“The ghosts want secrets. I’m gay.”

“I… fuck man, way to ruin the whole mood I was building.”

“Does that mean we can leave now?”

“Te-ell the-em. Te-ell the-em. Te-ell the-em.”

“Guess it’s my turn.” Dom flicked the knife between his fingers. “See, I don’t really give a shit about the normal dead people here.” He wrenched the knife up before thrusting it down into the table. “I’m here to meet Jeremiah.”

Myles tugged at his hair. “Why would you want that? He’s a murderer!”

“Ruu-n. Ki-iller. Ki-iller. Ki-iller.” 

“Ya know, people say he’s no normal ghost. I’ve heard… he’s a demon.”

“Again, why would you want that?”

“He’s the only one to do something interesting in this stupid town.”

“Great. You idolize a murdering demon ghost. You’re batshit insane.”

“He hasn’t come through yet,” Nick said. “What’s your plan?”

“That’s what she’s here for.” Dom bared his teeth like a predator and tugged the knife from the table. The wood splintered but his eyes were trained over Myles’ shoulder. “What, you think I wanted you here for your flat tits and shitty personality? Hell no. You’re a sacrifice, bitch. Jeremiah never got to kill his sister. I figure a dead chick might solve that. I wanted more girls, but Juan fucked it up.”

“Dom, this is too far.” Juan joined Myles, further separating Dom from Melaine. 

“Juan, call the cops. Now.” 

“They won’t get here in time.” Dom lunged past Myles and Juan, but Nick held him back. Myles held him down. 

The second Juan started to dial, the phone glitched and died. “Three times… that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Te-ell the-em. Te-ell the-em. Te-ell the-em!” The spirit box grew louder. “Ki-iller! Te-ell the-em. Ki-iller. Te-ell the-em. Te-ell the-em. Ki-iller!”

“I DID IT!” Melanie screamed, thrashing against the rope. “I killed the Wallaces! It was me!” Tears streamed down her face. 

Myles glanced at her over his shoulder. “Mel, you don’t have to lie.”

“It’s not a lie,” she whispered. Her head dropped as the weight of ten years of secrecy was lifted off her shoulders. “They knew Mary wasn’t coming home that night.” 

Myles stared at his sister. “The extra plate… it was for you. But wouldn’t there be DNA or something?”

“I helped my dad get rid of the evidence,” Juan said, biting viciously at his lip.

Melanie’s eyes met Juan’s. “You knew?”

“My dad’s pulled fingerprints off the fork. Remember that time you got caught shoplifting tampons?”

“Of course I do. My parents think they’re ‘improper’ and ‘a disgrace to my future husband.’ They were so pissed when I got caught.”

“Yeah, well… you were printed after that. You’re lucky this town is too small for a real forensics team.”

“Why would you cover for me?”

“Because we saw you in the pharmacy that morning.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?!” Myles shouted. “Melaine, what’s going on?”

She sighed, shuffling against the hold of her bindings. “The day of the murders, I went out to that shitty little pharmacy at the edge of town. You know, the rundown one with the old lady who can barely see what she’s scanning? I thought it was my best chance to avoid being seen.” She eyed Juan. “Clearly I was wrong.”

“Get to the point, bitch. No one cares about your sob story.”

“Shut up!” She took a breath. “I was buying a pregnancy test. I took it here. It was positive.”

“Mel…”

“No one was supposed to know! Mom and dad would’ve flipped! I mean, they didn’t even know I had a boyfriend. They would’ve kicked me out and it would have been all over the news since dad is so publicly conservative. I would’ve lost my place at BYU and all my funding.”

“I get it, more than anyone, but that’s not an excuse to kill people.”

“They were going to tell,” Melanie whispered. “We were having dinner, and Mrs. Wallace pulled out the test. I don’t know why she took it from the trash or how she found it rolled in so many layers of toilet paper, but one second I was eating steak and the next she was saying they had to tell my parents.

“I lunged for the test, but she wouldn’t let go. I guess, in the chaos, I stabbed her with the steak knife. It was all a blur after that. I think Mr. Wallace tried to stop me, but I snapped. I only realized what happened when I finally killed Jeremiah.”

Thoughts swirled around her mind faster and louder than the spirit box as she glared at Juan. “If you knew, why make me come back? Did you want me to admit it?!”

“No! I guess I thought you’d be spooked, but when nothing happened maybe you could get over it.”

“And under you.”

“Shut up, Dom!”

“I didn’t say shit.”

The room seemed to turn as a collective to the one who had spoken, Nick.

“Te-ell the-em.”

“I guess there’s only one secret left.” Nick stepped forward. “I’m so glad to hear you admit it, Laney.”

Melaine inhaled sharply. “What?” 

“You told me once I was the only one to call you that. Is that still true?”

“Jeremiah?” she whispered. “No. No, you were dead!”

“I am dead.” He stepped closer. “Turns out, anger corrupts a spirit, and Laney, I am angry. Dominic was right. I am a demon. Worse, I’m a smart one. I held onto this anger and watched you build the perfect life until I could forge one of my own. Poor Nick’s soul didn’t stand a chance.”

“How long have you been in control of him?”

“The day he became your brother’s roommate.” 

“There’s no way you could’ve known we would come here.”

“Laney, all death has given me is time. Time to plant this trip Time to convince Juan and Dom to drag race when the cops most needed to meet their ticking quotas. Time to get Myles to ask your parents to drive us. Time to warp this bastard’s mind enough to come here,” he said, nodding his head over at Dom.

“What now?” she whispered.

“Well, you didn’t even greet the family when we came inside. You know that’s a house rule.” A wide, unnatural smile split his face. “Mom, dad, Adam, I’m home.” His white, soulless eyes turned on them. “And I brought company.”

The voices in the spirit box seemed to laugh, even as the old house came alive with screams. “Jeremiah. Is. Here.”