Andre M. Pietroschek

One Seance to fool 'em All! - The Sleepover (horror comedy)

One Séance to Fool 'Em All! - The Sleepover
© Andre M. Pietroschek, all rights reserved

Disclaimer: This narrative offers no guarantees! What delightful mischief a ghostly presence can conjure when a new wave of eager teenagers or young adults at college begins to toy with an Ouija board. No assurances, no promises; reading this text does not grant you any certainty in the realm beyond.

Trigger Warnings:

- Sexism
- Vulgar language
- Rude language
- Truth

The Story Unfolds:

Ghost: “Admittedly, my first séance was a fiasco, and I confess that from the outset. It had to be, for these youthful souls were oblivious to the depths of the occult, and divine protection was withheld from such a foolish assembly of horror movie enthusiasts. What transpired? They endeavored to imitate, to mimic an Ouija board session, just as they had witnessed on screen or perhaps through a mobile app. Having recently departed this world, I am aware of the wonders technology offers. Yet, when one exists in the black void, time becomes an elusive concept.

Forgive me; I digress. The outcome was predictable: intoxicated and reckless, they summoned spirits with no regard for the sanctity of the Witching Hour, treating it as a mere game.

After twenty minutes of rambling about their unfulfilled desires and the pop-culture absurdities that had ensnared their minds, these young ones made their most brilliant inquiry.

Teenagers: “We, who chant this trivial Latin, command you to answer us truthfully: Are you the spirit of an Evil Neo-Nazi, or some hellish entity eager for our demise?”

Ghost: “No, I merely recognize that you have underestimated the profound impact of imminent death on all that seeks to endure. This is why protective circles and respectful prayers were once deemed essential.”

Suddenly, the gas ventilation faltered, the air conditioning faltered, and electrical cables began to spark. Why? Because these misguided youths neglected to choose a suitable location or implement any safeguards. As they pointed fingers at the Ouija board, or at me, it was their frantic demands that summoned a force far beyond their comprehension, a force that silenced them in a most final manner. The Grim Reaper, not the Devil, stepped in. They were punished for disturbing the eternal peace of the departed.

Thus, the usual aftermath ensued: shocked parents enveloped in denial, surrounded by prying neighbors, oblivious to the years of neglect that had led to this tragedy; a police investigation ensued, accompanied by the obligatory academic discourse that sought to rationalize the inexplicable. With no resolution and no clarity, those well-compensated experts eventually retreated, paving the way for my second séance!

It was the intelligent sister of one of the deceased.

Female Voice: “Spirit, spirit, unveil the truth behind the fate of these teenagers.”

Ghost: “Where is the 'no way' button on that wooden contraption you’re handling?”

“Ouch!” The alluring figure collapsed, unconscious, while I found myself momentarily distracted, wrestling with the unseen forces of attraction that often clouded my spectral existence. Boobs.

Explosive headaches often accompany such unexpected pseudo-telepathic communication. Yet, in the realm beyond, it is essential to remember that ghosts lack tongues and breathing apparatuses to convey thoughts as the living do. After twenty minutes, Shirley Holmes, the investigative sister, regained consciousness, fixing her gaze upon me until I ceased my unintentional study.

Female Voice: “Reveal the truth!”

Ghost: “Life is more arduous than it appears, and death often arrives in unforeseen ways.”

Female Voice: “Concerning the departed!”

Ghost: “They meddled and demanded, invoking forces that led to the malfunction of ventilation and electricity, resulting in toxic smoke that extinguished their lives. None of them became spirits.”

Female Voice, aghast: “But that aligns with what the insurance agent and police concluded.”

Ghost: “I am quite certain they did not share those details with me, dear.” - Once again, I found myself more captivated by her presence than fulfilling my ghostly duty.

Female Voice: “There is something you could do that would make me eager to perform a dance just for you.”

Ghost: “Ah, you’ve ensnared me with your cleverness; someone has studied psychology, I see.”

Female Voice: “If you assist me, I vow to call upon you again and grant you that dance!”

Ghost: “Ah, the path of grief and sorrow. So, the campus predator follows your sister’s tragic fate, while I am left with desires I can no longer fulfill? Quite the irony.”

Female Voice: “How did you know?”

Ghost: “An empathetic feedback loop, a glimpse of the future; choose wisely.”

Female Voice: “Oh.”

Ghost: “When you awaken, journey to the campus and call upon me again. Avoid security, and offer your prayers, should you still believe that divine oversight lingers on that tenuous line between homicide and preemptive action.”

Then, everything faded to black and numbness embraced me once more. I was extinguished. Later, perhaps not long after, I was drawn back, the scent of grass and artificial irrigation enveloping my senses. She had once again succumbed to unconsciousness. My arrival mirrored my lifelong fortune with women. LMEAO = Laughing My Ephemeral Ass Off.

Ghost: “Wrap that jacket around your arm, unsuspecting prey of the campus predator.” She complied, quickly grasping my intent.

Ghost, continuing: “Flee from ground zero when I confront him. I admired her determination to protect others, though I had no inkling if ghostly affairs could intervene.”

The assailant appeared so innocuous, alarmingly ordinary. As if normalcy were a ruse to manipulate witnesses. For me, the task was simple: observe, act swiftly, and remain close. It takes mere seconds to end an unprotected mortal's existence when a ghost comprised solely of death manifests.

Female Voice: “Spirit, spirit…”

Ghost: “She honored her promise. And I discovered that my newfound desire is, in fact, transparent.”

THE END, until the next intrepid soul dares to call: “Spirit! Spirit!” 😉