Quote: "Machines of the Occultus" from The Graft of Shadows (A.Glass 2019)

 

“I'll go up first,” Lillias says, as she begins to walk up the stairs, holding onto the railing, each step creaking under her weight, from behind Ms Rubinstein follows. Lillias reaches the mezzanine level above the lounge area of her first client, she sees an area that is bare, devoid of furniture and fittings, except for a solitary wooden chair. The only light, as seen in hallway below, is a bare light globe dangling from the low ceiling. Lillias, standing on the study level, stares over the area, there is a smell, slightly acrid, also an acute coldness. Suddenly the chair moves, sliding backwards in a dramatic way to the far side of the sparse area. Lillias just looks at the chair's inanimateness, yet at the same time enlivened by what appears to be a presence, moving on its own, her thoughts become blank – yet focused. An inherent aspect of Lillias psychology when confronted with what could be deemed a stressful situation. Although, Lillias has just witnessed something she has never seen before. It then slides in a fast and dramatic fashion to the opposite side of the room. Lillias begins to feels her heart rate elevate. Aware, that for many years she had unconsciously trained her self not to be alarmed or effected by the normalcy of events that are outside from her own world. But, what she is witnessing isn't normal – regardless of social dualities. To which she has been able to manage and used for her own advantage. The chair slowly turns, creaking against the floor boards, facing Lillias as she maintains her stare at the bizarre events. It then slides in a more violent manner towards her, she remains transfixed on it, as it stops directly in front of her. Her heart rate returns to normal. Without an expression, she looks down at the empty chair and then around the room.

“There he is,” Ms Rubenstein says, as she points to a blue resonance which illuminates behind the chair.

“I see it,” Lillias replies, as she reaches for her cellphone in her right trench coat picket, in a slow and precise manner, still looking at the blueish light in front of her and Ms Rubinstein. She hears the chatter, the sounds of talking again. Set in what appears to be a singular tone, as though it is from the same person. Yet, indecipherable Lillias holds up the cellphone and begins filming the apparition.

“Ms Rubinstein...” Lillias says, still looking in the direction of the phantom. “...Have you ever felt threatened by this ghost?”

“No, never.”

“Can you talk to it?”

“Yes, I can,” The elderly woman replies, as Lillias sees the images of the phone being recorded as are the sounds.

“Ask it...its name.”

“Hello Alfred,” she says, as the spectra maintains a presence that has no clear form, yet it moves backwards, towards the far end of the room. Lillias continues recording, hearing the pronounced chatter. This time the pitch seems louder, more intensified.

“Did it answer?”

“Of course. Didn't you hear it?”

Lillias looks at Ms Rubinstein, this time her expression is less accommodative, more serious in its proposition.

“No...It wasn't talking to you.”

___

"The Graft of Shadows" (A.Glass 2019)