Being Zak Bagans (Welcome to Hell Series) by O. Penn-Coughin

Author:O. Penn-Coughin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, halloween, ghosts, paranormal, scary, ghost adventures, zak bagans
Publisher: You Come Too Publishing

There was a loud crash that sounded like it came from the kitchen.

“What was that?” Hunter said, getting up.

He felt around for the light switch. When he found it, he saw Blake down on the floor, moaning and clutching his knee.

“What the hell happened?”

“I hit my knee on the table,” Blake cried.

“What was that noise?”

“I don’t know,” Blake said, gritting his teeth.

Hunter left Blake on the floor and went out in the kitchen. He checked the wooden block, wondering if the noise had come from a knife crashing to the floor again.

But the knives were all accounted for.

Hunter looked around, checking for anything that seemed out of place. Anything out of the ordinary.

And then he saw it.

It was the ceramic cross that hung over the entrance to the pantry. The one his mom had bought years ago at an arts and crafts show downtown. It had been up there so long, Hunter had almost forgotten about it. But it wasn’t up there now.

The cross was lying on the kitchen floor. Cracked into several pieces.

Hunter’s mouth dropped open. He went over and picked up some of the jagged pieces, looking at them and then up at where the cross had been hanging. The nail was still in the wall. It hadn’t given out.

He inspected the broken chunks. The wire on the back was still secure, still attached at the ends to two of the larger pieces. The wire had held. There was only one explanation. One terrifying explanation.

The only way the cross could have fallen the way it did was if it had been knocked down by someone.

Or something.

Hunter shivered.

“Hunter, you should come out here and see this,” Blake said from out in the dining room.

Hunter quickly placed the pieces of the broken cross in his hands down on the counter. He ran back into the dining room.

Blake was standing now, supporting himself on one of the dining room chairs. He was looking down at the table, his jaw almost touching his chest.

Hunter walked over. He was looked down at the Ouija board.

The planchette was resting on Yes.

“We had asked if it was a bad spirit,” Blake said, his voice shaking. “Remember?”

Hunter nodded his head.

“But that’s where it was before from the last ques—” Hunter started to say but then remembered.

The last thing that the board had spelled out was the e in the word mine. The e was fairly close to the word yes on the board, but it was too much of a coincidence.

“Are you sure it didn’t just move there when you bumped into the table?” Hunter asked anyway.

“I guess it’s possible,” Blake said. “But I don’t think so. I think we got the answer to our question. Hey, what was that crash?”

“You don’t want to know, man,” Hunter said, shaking his head.

“What was it?”

Hunter sighed and walked back toward the kitchen. Blake limped behind him.

“Look,” he said, pointing at the broken pieces.

Blake let out a shriek.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered. “It’s the same answer, man. The same answer in another form.

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