Ghost College by Scott Nicholson & J.R. Rain

Author:Scott Nicholson & J.R. Rain [Nicholson, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-02-25T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

I took a moment to wrap my head around that. He’s the one who was dead but he’s acting like I’m the one who wasn’t supposed to be there.

He looked like a foppish dandy, or a dandyish fop, one of those know-it-alls that you’d love to punch in the face if they gave you a good reason. Except I was pretty sure my fist would just keep on going right through his head, and I’d crack my knuckles on the piano, assuming the piano was really there.

“So you’re Mr. Sigmund,” I said. “Or should I say ‘O Dark Master’?”

He slammed the bottom of his fist on the piano keys, launching a low and discordant rumble. “You’re meddling with forces you don’t understand.”

“I understand there’s an unhappy little girl here and my wife thinks you’re the bastard that’s caused all her misery,” I said, though I felt a little queasy, like my head was floating. Maybe the Denny’s pancakes had sat under the heat lamp too long.

“You and that evil woman think you can impose your human law and order.” He glanced toward Door Number Nine, and I followed his gaze to find the door was gone and we were in some sort of smoky, stone-lined chamber. “You’re just like all the others, afraid to see the real workings of the world.”

“No, I see it. I get ‘The History Channel.’ But I guess you wouldn’t know about that. Seeing as how you’re so busy playing with the unseen powers and shit.”

I was talking a little tough because I was a little scared. Ellen hadn’t given me any guidance on what to do once I was in here, but I trusted she was working with all her sensory powers to keep the channel open to possibility. In return, she trusted me to follow my instincts.

And instinct was all I had, because I sure didn’t have much experience in dealing with dead dabblers in the dark arts.

Hell, an hour ago I hadn’t even believed in ghosts.

“Okay, sir, if you insist on entering my classroom, I will instruct you in the lessons of a Dark Master.”

The smoke thickened and I batted at it, trying to orient myself. I glimpsed Sophia cowering on the far side of Mr. Sigmund, as if she were shrinking away from whatever horrible confrontation was about to take place. Apparently she had enough sense to abandon her possession of me, and I had a feeling whatever happened next was going to be a little bit on the unpleasant side.

Mr. Sigmund seemed to grow about three feet taller, and I swear his eyes flickered, as if reflecting some kind of hellfire below. For the record, I was a little numb, so I couldn’t get a good grasp of the room temperature, and since it was my soul in Room Number Nine instead of my body, any evidence I could have collected wouldn’t pass muster on a paragroupie Facebook page, much less a peer review.

He began jabbering in more of the

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