A Holiday Haunting Ch. 01

Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her or any clues of her past.

Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her. He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house. This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his home.

The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was for sale.

***

Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations.

Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin.

He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin.

March Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight -- I saw Robert encaged young Erin in the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston.

August Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight -- That green-eyed temptress was with my son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife.

November Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight -- Constable Standish and his ghastly son shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I call for her, the freckled face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end her services in the new year.

Jack paused from reading and tried to make sense. Green eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks, getting closer to the time when Erin died.

December Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight -- The Irish whore created a scene. Late in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has ruined us.

December Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight -- A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor tonight. It is clear to us.

December Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight -- My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston. I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach. Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid.

Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab his notepad, then back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return, they married Emma to his son to keep his silence.

He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he could help her. But like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on Franklin's living ancestors?

The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten. Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended early, and now they wanted to talk about his future.

"Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.

She stood there in the light rain, looking like another person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it.

"Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come in?"

Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin.

"Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish. I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness flowing out from her.

"Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because..." she stepped forward, "what happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did."

"Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to his hand like she was pleading with him.

"I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy, but then I found out that I was hearing the dead and I could talk to them. But I don't know, a mix of vodka and my own cynicism, the spirits don't want to talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you."

Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol.

"Do you want anything to drink?" He asked.

"Please." Lucy nodded.

Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse of her bra.

"So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin, may have gotten pregnant and the Franklins decide to murder her to prevent a scandal?"

"Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both sat on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been murdered here and they faked the accident."

"Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich and you got a friendly cop who is willing to help if he gets a favor, that's a straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee.

"There is something we can do. I know people in the psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like thing. It's like a séance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk to her. Then we can help her."

"What's the catch? There is always a catch."

"Not really. The séance is a bit complicated and there is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only."

"Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a glass.

They quickly finished their wine and poured some more. Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever believed him. He told her about Dr. Miller and how his dad would make the occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained and without realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked to a ghost and what the weirdest shit she had seen.

As Lucy went through her backstory, Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence.

"So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her. What relationship did you guys have?"

"Like a friendship. Growing up... Erin was like my confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here."

"That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh. "Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend."

Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked."

"Really?" Her eyes widened.

"Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her."

"That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy whispered, holding her gaze.

"Really?" Jack said, leaning in.

Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine.

She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked as she pushed Jack back upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack. Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his lap.

Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms.

"Yessss," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning.

With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness; no other girl he had ever been with was like this. They kept eye contact as Lucy softly grasped his shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his cock, smearing her fingers with precum. While their tongues dueled again as Lucy's hand became a blur over his dick.

They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down, kissing his tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and smirked.

"Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said.

Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly mmming and smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her wet mouth. She bobbed her head up and down, her firm round tits jiggling freely as she mouth-fucked him.

"Oh....FUUUUUCKKKK!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by Lucy swallowing more and more of his tool.

Lucy looked up and grinned at him again before opening her mouth and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slide up and down his shaft as she fucked him with her mouth. Her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the sound of sucking filling the room.

Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would slowly pull his dick out, running her teeth on the underside of his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again. It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his meat again, lashing her tongue against his swore cockhead, slurping up all the saliva and precum.

Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling him that he was going to cum soon in big, bold letters. He also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she worked the shaft. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his cockhole. But then he saw a figure near the TV.

"Erin?" He said.

She was right there and looked like she was in tears.

A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed on her face.

She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some warning!"

"Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit.

"Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder, finding that they weren't alone. "OH FUCK!"

"NO!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears.

Her face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating. She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared.

***

Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out. Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head.

That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How Erin tried to attack them.

He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him, Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't be selfish. It wasn't about him.

Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he expected to feel her.

Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him. With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin?

Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted out of the house.

"Hey," Jack muttered.

"So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked away twice. But I really need to know what the fuck did I see last night."

"I don't know," Jack said, looking away from Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this scary before. "Until..."

"Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close. "You need to tell me."

Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?"

Lucy shook her head.

"She took over your body and err... kissed me. We nearly had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said, "...to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up."

"She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch, doing you -know-what and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains all the throwing."

"I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled.

"Can I ask you something?"

Jack shrugged and nodded his head.

"What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?"

"Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts. But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?"

"Fuck it, yeah."

He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing to the tree.

Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped. Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet.

She raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands, clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a scared expression.

Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help you." She said out loud.

Erin didn't react.

"He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you."

Again, Erin stayed motionless.

Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over my body and speak to him. He would love that."

Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan.

"Erin?"

"What?" Erin/Lucy barked back at him.

"I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a mistake."

"Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in her tone. "You enjoyed every moment with her. I do not want to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue.