Fever Dreams and Ugly Things: A Collection of Weird Tales by Clint Spahr

Author:Clint Spahr [Spahr, Clint]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781537462066
Amazon: 1537462067
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2016-09-28T22:00:00+00:00

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Hugh had found the missing girl’s cell without any trouble. A man with his skillset knew a thing or two about locating hidden objects, but what he didn’t have the ability to do himself was gain any information about it that would be helpful to his work on the case. So here he was, at the Murlow Sister’s Fortune Telling Service, waiting to speak to the two mediums he knew outside the DSI who were worth a damn.

“Been an age Hugh,” said Alice, the younger Murlow sister, as she appeared in the lobby doorway. “Still chasing monsters?”

“Still pretending to talk to dead cats?” replied Hugh as he rose, earning him a hard punch in the arm before they moved into the parlor. As helpful as the Murlows had always been to Hugh in his work, he’d never been happy about the way they used their abilities. They were some of the only people involved in fortune telling and mediumship who could actually do some of what they claimed, but they still lied about enough for him to see it as exploitative. If only for sake of their friendship, he elected to keep his barbs fairly lighthearted.

“Well, look who crawled out of the shadows,” said the elder Murlow, Sherry, seated at the large circular table in the middle of the room.

“Howdy Sher. Hoping you two could help me on a case,” said Hugh, setting the phone down on the table.

“Well it’s not like we see you otherwise,” said Alice as she took a seat.

“I take time off and people tend to get eaten, or whatever,” said Hugh.

“What kind of case?” Sherry interjected.

“Missing persons,” said Hugh. “This phone belongs to a girl who vanished in a small town not far from here. I need to know what her last few thoughts were while she had it.”

“Easy enough,” said Sherry as she picked it up and closed her eyes, focusing her energy on the phone.

There was no elaborate ritual here, the Murlows left the theatrics for the people who wanted to know their future or learn about their past lives. This was also in no small part because Hugh wasn’t above complaining about the extra song and dance.

Psychometry usually only gave you traits about the owner of an object, but a person in enough peril or distress could imprint thoughts and other information onto whatever they were holding at the time. In these instances, a skilled enough psychic could read the last thoughts of the deceased. Hugh was counting on this to be such a case.

“Whatever attacked her knew her name,” said Sherry. “And it looked through the phone while it was in her hand.”

“Any tactile sensations?” asked Hugh. “Or other visuals?”

“The entire time she was aware of it she was being pinned down in the dark,” said Sherry. “Its skin felt wet, and its hand spread across her face like a puddle in those last seconds.”

“That all you got?” asked Hugh. “Sounds? Anything?”

“That’s everything that’s still connected to the phone, she wasn’t alive for very long after she was attacked,” said Sherry.

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