The Long Island Anti-Medium

The Long Island Anti-Medium

or, Ectogasm

"Hey guys, it's on again." The thin one stood in front of the glowing television with the remote in his hand, grinning like the devil inside him. What had become their favorite TV show was playing its opening narration and background theme.

"I'm Janna Diana, the self-descr5ibed 'Long Island Anti-Medium'." A pause. The scenes cut, showing a busty, plump brunette woman in night vision, traipsing through various locales with a team of people and camera crew. There were shouts and awestruck phrases scattered behind the music and the narration. She kept talking. "I've always been a sucker for a good ghost story, and I have set foot in some of the most haunted places in the world." Scenes flashed across the screen, along with her sultry, husky voice declaring names- Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, Mary King's Close, the Lizzie Borden House, and more. "I believe in the presence of spirits and the supernatural- and people close to me have had experiences. Here's the thing, though."

The thin one watched hungrily as the others stepped up next to him, similarly mfascinated by the figure on their television. One tall and broad, the other taller but petitely built. This was their favorite part of the opening:

"I have never had an otherworldly encounter."

That's right, this ghost hunter's bit was that she herself had absolutely no sensitivity to the supernatural world, even when people standing right next to her did.

"I might walk into a room and feel something's wrong, but I don't feel the cold spots. I don't see or hear the dead. No spectral hand has ever touched me, and I have never witnessed the passing of a ghostly figure. It doesn't matter how bad you might want something if you're the opposite of a channeler. I have traveled across the world to see if I can be touched by a spirit, and have yet to disprove my theory that I am immune to undead influence."

All of this carefully presented and framed, of course, to emphasize the entire premise. Janna Diana was the opposite of a skeptic, but she also purported to block spirits, and maybe even expel them.

The three had found this amusing even before they made their deal. There were so many ghost-hunting shows, but none of them ever claimed to drive away the subjects they sought, and almost all of them wanted to present evidence to convince their audiences that hauntings were real. Janna Diana may not have been intending to debunk the existence of a paranormal world, but she sure did approach her quest with a blunt honesty that gave her moderate stardom more weight.

"Still, I can only speak for me. It's up to you, watching these travelogues, what to make of the events I present for yourselves."

The three chuckled when the intro finished. The episode was a repeat- the Catacombs of Paris- but they simply enjoyed watching her plead with haunts and entities to make contact, right alongside accompanying friends and guest psychics who were getting that contact. It was a curious thing. Janna herself had tons of equipment, as did her team, but she herself never scored EVPs, and results from her scanners, readers, or cameras, were minimal at best. She never even had much luck with the spirit box, despite her own crew getting incredible stuff through it minutes before or after.

In some episodes you could see Janna's frustration, but she played it comically, and always provided the historical facts surrounding each locale she explored. The formula of the episodes remained the same: Janna introduced the location, traveled to it with her crew, met up with guides, hosts, witnesses, and/or local mediums to do interviews and get information before the lockdown happened. After that began, it was Janna and her partner investigators as well as their camera crew.

In all four seasons of the show, anyone who accompanied Janna on her excursions had had at least one personal experience or encounter- except Janna herself.

"We've got to get her here," the bulky, large, imposing one with the long wild hair (and the axe in his hand) said, lip curled up. "Test out this supposed 'immunity' to spirits and prove to her completely that she's right."

His friends laughed.

"She wants to be touched by an otherworldly presence?" The grizzled, thin, wizened one with the feral madness in his eyes smirked, flexing his long fingers as though the very bones itched. "I'll touch every fucking part of her."

"Inside and out," added the final man. He was the sleek, deathly beautiful one, as seductive as all fabled predators of dark legend were. "She won't keep that impenetrability long. Not when we pour ourselves into her and give her the same gifts we took."

"Won't it destroy our favorite show?" Their dark-headed compatriot snickered.

"Will it matter when the show is in our hands and crushed beneath us every night?" The brute retorted, licking his lips, catching the light off the TV with the head of his axe. His brothers laughed again, harder this time.

"Maybe, but I guess it all depends on how real she's being on the screen," his beauteousness answered, voice dripping with venom and charm. "These shows can be very manufactured, you know."

"A chance we'll have to take. The hapless little hostess of this slice of reality television has been far too interesting for her own good."

"It's time, guys," said their blond god, tossing his radiant locks. "The deadline is coming close, and we need to know if she'll be able to handle her destiny with us." He waved his hand to the mantle above their fireplace, where a jeweler's bust took center stage, displaying a necklace. One composed of multiple strands of tarnished silver chain, with sparkling if small precious stones (rubies or garnet) plus beadwork interspersed tastefully throughout, and a cameo pendant hung in the center. It was a rather morbid cameo (from its original time) of a skeleton's bust, an elaborately coiffed updo perched on the skull and further detailed with withered flowers. An elaborate necklace dating even further back than the one sitting on the mantelpiece was engraved on the bare bones. The cameo itself was skillfully carved of ivory, set on black velvet.

The three men had found it- or were given it- in the mine nearly five months ago. A sign, they thought; especially after buying the property more than two years prior, and the fateful night they first stumbled into the old shaft. It started as just an interesting investment. Buy up the lands underneath an old ghost town and create an attraction. People loved shit like that. Tourists would flock to the area and they could make easy money. Hell, when they bought the dusty old relic, abandoned mines were a given. It was Fayette County, West Virginia for fuck's sake.

None of them expected the old, sunken-in, half-buried mineshaft right at the edge of the two acres they had reserved for themselves, where an old farmhouse that could be renovated and preserved still stood. Nevertheless, they found it. They also found what was inside, what waited for them there.

And they made a deal.

One coal miner who murdered a dinner party's worth of coal barons with an axe while their horrified families and the servants looked on. One charismatic conman who made a disgraceful living swindling money, jewelry, gifts, and easy company out of wealthy women while he lost his heart to the most infamous whore in town. And one saloon owner and bartender known for his whoring, gambling, pimping, and black market activities. All three connected to the same woman- the one who owned that necklace.

Once they were chosen, they knew their purpose. She wanted a new life; they all did. So they would find her. Take her. Bring her home. The boys would have everything- their riches, fame, fortune, and their beloved whore. Not even at death to part.

After all, it hadn't stopped them the first time.

"Make the call," the conman said. Time to reel in the final mark.

'Janna Diana' took that call at 7:33 PM while watching episodes of Halloween Wars with her feet up in her tiny studio apartment. Hey, it wasn't like she didn't make the kind of money that would get her a nice place in a doorman-building in the city, but she liked things cozy and simple. Almost minimal. A secure, neat little place in a quiet area close to her most important people (and all the nearby public transportation) with all the comforts she could need for respite when not on the road. But when that phone rang? She picked it up each and every time.

"Hello, you've reached the Long Island Anti-Medium," she answered cheerfully, her heart beginning to pound. The television personality always got excited and terrified when the number rang. She loved the thrill of exploring a new haunted place, even though her gimmick was 100% not fake- Janna Diana was truly a believer with no personal evidence to back it up. But each call still was a chance.

"Good evening, Miss Diana." The voice washed over her. It was smooth and dark like the best chocolate, but it had an edge hidden beneath that immediately haunted her. Even under a blanket in her recliner, she shivered. "My name is... Calvin McClary. I'm calling on behalf of myself and my two business partners. Friends, really, but we threw in together to make our fortune and wound up sitting on top of some shit we think you need to see." How interesting it was to listen to him. His speech seemed to blend a modern casual vernacular with a far politer, archaic sense of manners, and just hearing him made the hairs on her arms stand up.

"Tell me more," she replied breathlessly. He chuckled, and she could swear she heard the smile in his voice.

"My two best friends and I wanted to buy up an old ghost town down here in West Virginia. Figured we'd renovate, restore, and reopen the place as a historical site and tourist attraction. Costumed tour guides, stage shows, re-enactments, you name it- with a lively food and drink scene, plenty of attractions and lodgings nearby, of course. We knew the place would have some history, and you know how that is, in your line of work." He laughed, and she laughed easily with him, enchanted. Janna Diana- AKA Jane Dana- kicked back even further and imagined what the owner of this sultry tone looked like. He sounded like a big guy. Hopefully broad.

"Oh naturally," she replied with contentment and intrigue spreading through her body. "Absolutely rich with historical significance and probably at least a few emotionally charged, powerful events that could leave a lasting spiritual impression on the area. But something tells me you're not just calling about a haunted brothel or old jail, are you?" The man purred on the other of the phone.

"No, I'm not," he responded, words getting thicker in his throat as he came to the meat of the matter. "We absolutely expected and hoped for some 'haunted history', as that kind of thing is a major draw for the type of audience we want to bring in, but we got a lot more than expected or bargained for." Oh. Jane perked up. This could be big. But he paused.

"Tease," she blatantly flirted, the single syllable husky as he held her in suspense. The resulting chuckle was almost wicked.

"We discovered the mines. Coal mines, right on the edge of our personal property. It apparently caved in in the early 1800s, killing dozens. Not all the bodies were found. Eventually, the entrance we discovered had been filled in, forgotten, and someone bought the acreage to put up a farm. Well, years later, time did its thing and the entrance re-emerged. We found the most haunted spot right in our fucking backyard, and let me tell you, Miss Diana, this is the place." Every added bit of information was hooking her further and further, and when he finally made that ominous statement, she'd long forgotten to breathe.

"The place for what?" She choked, sucking air as she remembered she needed to do that.

"It's the place where YOU will be touched. You will make contact, or I will pay you one million dollars cash on the spot, on your show."

A gasp was the only sound she could make in immediate reaction. But after the shock, her brain made her consider a spike of logic.

"Oh please don't tell me you're having me on," she sighed. "I must say, you'd be the most convincing prank caller I've ever had."

"It's no prank," came a prompt response, but this time the voice was completely different. Light, airy, musical somehow, with a touch of schmooze. The change sent Jane's head spinning. "Hello Miss Diana, I'm M Smith. I'm the one putting up the money, and this is a completely serious offer. We are so sure you will have the supernatural experience you've always wanted in that mine, that we decided to throw down the gauntlet. One million dollars is no small chunk of change. We figured making it absolute overkill on the payout for your expected outcome could entice you to take us straight."

Well shit. He had a point, she reasoned.

"Alright misters M Smith and Calvin McClary. And am I to expect the third partner in crime is also on the call?"

"Randy S..trand," the final guy said, as though he weren't exactly sure. It seemed weird to her, but maybe it was nerves, or something else. He sure became verbally animated quickly. "We love your show. We've seen the entire run, and knew we had to make you an offer you couldn't refuse. A business proposition that's also a bet, if you're game."

"I am... very piqued so far, gentlemen," Jane replied. She could hear his enthusiasm, and it was like all three of them were salivating over being able to offer her this chance. "Of course I want to hear the full terms of this deal before I agree to anything, but, give me the idea you're brewing."

"Our construction and renovation jobs are almost finished, and we hope to be open by summer. Everything's coming together, but we want to build some notoriety and clout to have a successful first season, so having you bring your show here under the terms of an outrageous bet would get a ton of publicity."

The woman whose lifelong weird love of hauntings earned her bread and butter felt the spark in her brain. Oooh, she wanted this shit to go viral.

"Fuck, you give me a tour of the place and a taste of the fun you offer, advertising you, I get an exclusive experience (which I will right now cop to being in your target audience), and I get a lockdown in a haunted slice of American history? There's no downside I can see! And that's where my skepticism is, gentlemen. What's the catch?" She was laughing, though. If nothing else, she might have some fun.

"It's the lockdown," M answered her, clearly laying on a well-practiced charm. "The mine is angry, Miss Diana. The reason we're so sure even you will have an experience down there is because the entities that remain trapped in the rubble are so powerful and so mad."

There it went, up her spine. A trickle of dread, a frisson of terror- and she knew from the bottom of her gut they were telling the truth.

"Fuck." They all knew it was hitting her. The craving they hoped to build. "For the sake of my show's thesis as well as viewership, I don't think I could pass up such an offer."

They went off immediately, cheering (actually cheering!), thanking her, talking all at once. An explosion of plans and ideas and boyish glee that became a din until she broke through.

"Guys, guys! Details!"

"We're going to fly you out, A-S-A-P," M told her. "Meet us and we'll go over the specifics, do a pre-show interview to hammer out the contracts and exact plans. We'll set the formal terms of our bet and begin setting up for the shoot. You name the time."

"Halloween," she jumped on it immediately. It was early October at the moment. "It'll make one hell of a Halloween special! I might even be able to get a live broadcast, even if we just stream live."

"I love the way you think," Randy groaned, drawing out the syllables. "We were hoping you'd say that. The Halloween episodes were always our favorites."

"I'll let you boys in on a little secret about those," Jane teased them. "The first season didn't have a Halloween special because I would film the first special that Halloween- too late to be aired on the holiday. Instead of doing it not actually on Halloween, I aired it the year after."

"If we could go live with it online, that would be incredible. Feedback and reactions in real time!" M practically gushed.

"Yes. Fucking amazing. I'm in. What are the terms of flying me out? Do you have anyone on my team specifically you'd like me to bring?"

"For the first interview, we're requesting you bring two witnesses of your choice to sit with us and go over the contacts. It protects our interests and yours, and we want you to be comfortable." Calvin laid it out with the sleek efficiency of a businessman.

"I'd love to do this. I'll make some calls and see when we can get the ball rolling." Jane was so excited it was making her a little lusty. Her body reacted strangely to fear, and maybe that was the reason she kept doing this... kept seeking out scares. She got a thrill down her vertebrae and it landed straight into her core, lighting her up. "I just have one question for you gents."

"Ask," Randy seemed to taunt. Like he knew what I was intending to say.

"If I don't get touched or contacted in any way, I get a million dollars. Which means you are confident you'll win. But if you do win, you never said what you get. Are you three really just in it for the publicity? Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

"Oh yeah, Ms. Diana," Randy cheeked at her. "We expect to win."

"We do have some stipulations and will lay them all out when we do the interview. You'll find out if you come exactly what it is we're putting up against the million," M informed.

"Give me all relevant contacts," she firmly directed, scrabbling for a pen and paper. Each of them gave a phone number and an email, which she copied down very carefully and read back to them to confirm.

Whatever shenanigans these mystery men were dragging her into, it was like catnip. It sounded too good to be true, and it probably was. However, the pre-agreement interview would give her plenty of time to either hash out a decent contract or allow her to refuse. These guys might be pulling a fast one, or setting Jane up for an elaborate hoax to promote their upcoming revitalized ghost town. Protecting the show's interests and integrity was important, so she'd bring her producer. As to the other person...

"It's on like Donkey Kong, boys," Jane purred, ready to pull the trigger.

"We look forward to the sit-down. Until we meet, Miss Diana," Calvin said softly. He sounded almost sad to let go.

"Can't fucking wait," Randy swore loudly.

"We're deeply excited, Miss Diana," M cooed. "You'll have tickets the moment you tell us when."

"I'll get my people on the phone as soon as humanly possible and will message immediately. I could have an answer for you in twenty minutes. I'll email, though, if it's late."

"You can call me," Randy's rough salacious rumble sent a thrill through the woman now on fire with anticipation. "I like to be up late into the night."

Jane chuckled. "Me too. And I am going to be in a state of immense excitement for a while."

"We're so glad you're excited," Calvin said, pleased. Hungry. "We think this is going to be a massive opportunity for all of us."

"Oh I hope so," Jane deadpanned back, genuinely stoked (as well as deeply intrigued by the three mystery men on the other end of the line). "Fucking hell gentlemen, I certainly hope so."

They ended the conversation, and Jane made her first call to the producer, leaving a message. Felix was probably occupied and may or may not hit her back before it got too late. The other call was to her number two on the research team- Alessandra. She was the level-headed 'skeptic', expert with all their equipment, and assessed evidence with a factual, logical eye. Didn't mean she didn't get freaked out while on site, and it definitely didn't mean she could explain every piece of evidence collected. Yes, Alessandra was the other person she wanted at this meeting.