Today's #flashfiction The Investigator And His Museum

“Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.”

Christopher Walken* #quote

Well, CJ isn't coming over this weekend. Seems that he is getting together with his family. Figured, I wasn't sure if his family would gather or not, or if it was a time that mattered in relation to him coming over. Though when I originally invited him I had forgotten it was the week of Easter. (Shows how good with the calendar I am).

The Investigator And His Museum

          I walked into the old, abandoned museum. A a small amount of fear entered my mind at the start of the night. But when I passed through the doors and the walls made stars and moon vanish so that only my flashlight gave me vision, fear started to envelop many of my thoughts.

          About a hundred years ago, around 2015-ish they removed most all the exhibits from the museum. People were willing to buy everything inside the museum, however the land was effectively worthless except to one business. However that business opening up something there would hurt a larger one dramatically, so through some pushing and probably several bribes it was declared a historical location so that no one could buy the land or demolish it.

          Because of all the artifacts that passed through it, and its incredibly long lifespan, it is a commonly accepted belief among paranormal investigators that activity of some kind was here. The objects that once resided in the museum give ghosts a reason to visit for stay, and a hundred years have given them time to attach to the location. Also there are about a hundred years of accounts and gathered evidence.

         The beautiful weather held a gentle breeze that traveled into the building with me. The weather compensated for the fact that the air condition no longer operated in museum. I wanted most the modern total environmental controls of our century, but the air conditioning of the twenty first century would have been fine too. My mother always said, “Ben, dress sensibly.” and since I knew that the interior of this museum could very well turn into an oven of sorts I wore shorts and t-shirt. I already felt a little tired from both the backpack full of tools I carried and the fear in my bones. I hoped that the sweat on my shaved head was from the heat and not my cowardice.

         Something about this place scared me more than any other. Perhaps pouring over the many, many accounts of the past. Other locations I visited didn't scare me. But this place I spent a good month reading the accounts and research of others. The museum didn't have simple whispers of sound or bumps in the night. People said they felt like what they experienced came from in their head. Like somehow what they'd experienced came in like an idea. They all said it in different ways, besides some attention seeking copycats I had to filter out, but I found that sort of description of sensation. If it could be counted as sensation. And all people who brought tools for gathering data found them on going on the fritz. People said they felt their minds were being violated and fled quickly.

          My investigations into the paranormal had me chasing lights. Sometimes people even commissioned robots to replace paranormal robot investigators to gather the thermal, sound and other data that we usually do. Especially since the companies that produce them are working to spread the belief that ghosts won't appear in front of the living. But I'm a hobbyist, and something that haunts mind is something a robot can't handle.

        But is it something of the mind? I went to this mueseum because it's supposed to have the potential to be the smoking gun for the paranormal. To revolutionize science even more than the finding of aliens after faster-than-light travel. But as I open up my backpack and set up my observation equipment I can only think of my Uncle Kevin. My family is overall full of skeptics, but he's vocal against my hobby. Both him and my father are scientists, but my father has an open mind to the possibility of discovery.

        “You don't even know what a ghost is, if it even exists. You're just assuming it's whatever you want it to be! A glowing face in the shadows, whatever little picture you can flash on a blog. You have unsupported assumptions. Not any sort of respect for the processes of science!” was what he yelled at me when I supported my hobby the most.

        Then I felt the presence of another something. But not like I felt it in the air, or by hearing it. But like I imagined it with someone else telling me to imagine that someone else was there. Did I just experience the same sensation as the others? The feeling wouldn't go away. It terrified me as it felt like someone whispered something vile into my brain.

        My equipment started showing strange images and results. The thermal device random blobs. Everything strange. However Uncle Kevin's words stuck with me. Maybe he's right in one way. I'm going about this the wrong way. A ghost shouldn't be what I want it to be. When the strange thing kept oozing sensation into my mind I ignored it. I wouldn't run like the others. I'm going to invesigate it. And I would have faith in my belief.

       And I would use science. I have a hypothesis. Ghosts are real. And no matter how long it took I would look at my seemingly broken equipment until I came up with a pattern from the chaos that shows me what a ghost truly is.