Christmas is only a week away, and I'm really excited. (even though I still have to finish my shopping!) I hope everyone else is getting ready for the holidays.

James is a little edgey about the latest case. It seems to me as bogus as the UFOs. I really don't think we should be taking sides in some mother-daughter fiasco.

Well, its been an alternately boring, and shopping-full feew weeks. Thanksgiving was nice (we ate at MY parents, not James') and I hope everyone else had a good one too.

Nothing much has been going on, James says he doubts we'll get any real cases during the holiday season. "Last year," he told me, "some nut called me up saying he was being haunted by the ghost of christmas past".

Speaking of chistmas, merry you know, everybody. (and happy chaunakah, yule, solstice, and any other midwinter festival anyone is celebrating) I've been doing some shopping, and we got at tree. I was amazed, because I let James pick it out. The things almost 7 feet tall! My familynever gets one bigger than 5 feet, but James says it dosn't feel like christmas without a big tree.

We've got lights on it, and we've been decorating it a little at the time.

In other news, though you might already know, James finally got around to getting the new site up. its at http://www.morganparanormal.com so you can go check it out, although, there's no real new content there. James topld me he likes it just for the sake of seeing his name up in the address bar.

Okay, thanks everyone for confirming that the pics were indeed fake. James is trying to think of a way to phrase the email that dosn't make the pic sending want to haul out and punch him ;)

Well, its been an boring couple of days. Nothings really been happening, except one incident.

On Wednesday James got an email from some guy claiming he'd taken photos of a UFO in Rochester. Obviously he was excited intrigued by the idea, so after he had the guy send him the pics.

Now, I'm pretty sure that they're fake. They just look TOO, if you know what I mean. Which you probably don't. Anyway, James is sort of in agreement with me, but he wants another opinion before he emails this guy back telling him pics are faked.

So what do you guys think?

I mentioned a couple of days ago that James and I end to the local cemetary (Mt. Hope) and took pictures. Here are the 17 18 (sorry, I miscounted) best of them. Yes, this page loads slowly.

( see the pics )

I woke up to some weirdness this morning. I got online, intending to update my journal and was AIM-jumped (in a good way?) by Lora, who helped on the Rookery Tower case.

Some weirdo was AIMing her some crazy stuff, pretty much out of the blue I guess. Since it dealt with spirits, and mystic dreams and stuff, Lora asked me to do some questioning on behalf of Morgan paranormal.

As it turns out, this woman is apparently an ex-nun, who participated in some gross occult ritual with two men and a snake, thirteen years ago. And she is seemingly confused when it turns out her son is the antichrist. Gee, ya think?

I’m sorry to sound unprofessional, but my professional opinion, and James agrees, is that his woman is

A) pulling our legs
B) on hard drugs
C) has seen too many horror movies

She talked about letting her son see the arcane symbol on her ‘private area’, and he in return mentioned something about drinking from her ‘chalice’ I was very creeped out.

Possibly all three at once. Unless she offers us some darned compelling evidence to the contrary, we’re not going to do anything.

Of course, this isn’t to say that it might not be something, and that it shouldn’t be looked into, if only for the sake of this woman, and her son’s mental health. But this is just too creepy, and doesn’t appear to be happening in New York, so unless Satan comes knocking on our front door asking for a cup of sugar, we’re not going to be doing a darned thing.

If anyone cares to see it, James has posted a copy of the chat I had with Lora and this woman here

Today was pretty boring, mostly because it was pouring out for a lot of the day.

Aside from talking on aim a bit throughout the day, I did some psychic excersizes with James, as per usual. james' favorite seems to be those damned cards. You know, hold it up so I can only see the back and then tell him what it is? I consistently get at least 4/5 correct. Its very unnerving.

I told James (who I'm beginning to think fell in love with the paranormal simply because he is completely obsessed with Ghostbusters) that I felt that way and he suggested we go and rent some movies. It was kind of funny, he tried to make an 'exercise' out of that he said to pick what "felt right". I think he was mostly joking.

Well, in retribution I made him suffer through Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame an old favorite of mine, and the 1998 miniseries 'Merlin' which I had never seen before.

The results of this evening are thus:

A) the living room smells like popcorn

B1) I have 'Hellfire' stuck in my head and it will not leave

B2) James is threatening to burn me at the stake

and

C) I have a desire to learn more about actual Arthurian legend.

I guess its been a while since my last update, huh? And, looking at my last entry, it seems like I sort of left everyone hanging. I didn’t mean to do that, but I’d imagine most of you know how it ended anyway. If you don’t, James has written up a pretty good summary here.

As for what we’ve been doing since then, we spent a little time at James’ ‘old pad’ out in Ohio. That’s where I started my training. The last few months have been one ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’-esque 80s training montage. Lets see, I now know how to douse, sense auras, I can feel when spirits are in the area (theoretically anyway) and I can do something that James calls ‘touch-know’. That’s where I hold an object or touch a person and I get a flash of their past.

It’s… freaky. I’m lucky it doesn’t happen all the time, because the first time it scared me a lot. I passed out, in fact. It was right after that we moved back to New York. I don’t know if James mentioned it, but my parents came to see me in the hospital and they got really mad at him. 

So, now we have an apartment back in New York. We thought about moving back to Rookery Artemes Tower, but we didn’t need all that room.

Fun fact of the day, I never knew. James is (almost) independently wealthy. His parents are rich anyway, they own a plastic company, or something, James was pretty vague, I’ll be honest. So, anyway, he gets a couple of thousand dollars a month allowance for now, until his father dies. I was blown away when I found out.

He said he doesn’t tell people because he doesn’t like them to treat him like some member of the nobility. That’s exactly how he put it. I. “I was treated like a king enough in the past. I just want to be me now.”

So now we’re just waiting for a case. Well, that’s not precisely true. We did have a meeting with one of the other Paranormal investigators in the area. His name’s Ralph, and he’s a pretty nice guy. He looks kind of like Alfred Molina, actually. Mostly he doesn’t do cases though, he runs a sort of paranormal theater and sells wands and dousing pendants. They’re very pretty, James bought me one.

Also, James and I tramped around Mt. Hope Cemetery. We didn’t get anything paranormal, probably because it was bright daylight, but I can scan the pictures if anyone is interested.

Oh! One last thing, I finally got an AIM address, laylasweetie. I’ll be happy to chat if you catch me online, though I probably won’t be on much. And I changed my lj layout, but you already knew that. ;)

Three more days, that’s all it’s going to take. So soon, and yet so much waiting. As Eric has been helping me with my preparations, it seems Richard has been giving James some tips as well. I’m not sure if I trust this, but we need all the help we can get.

We’ve chosen the focus for the binding spell, an antique hand mirror with a silver backing.

I know there are a lot of you out there holding your breath. I’m holding my breath too. But we’ll get through this. Somehow.

Rookery Tower feels like it’s been holding it’s breath. Waiting for us to return. And I don’t know why, but something made me want to come back. The weekend in the hotel was wonderfully relaxing, but for the first time, it felt like Rookery Tower was business that I was avoiding.

I can’t explain it. I was burning to leave, but now I feel determined. Bound and determined, to finish this.

Today I had the most frightening experience of my life. James and I were eating lunch when he suggested that we go out into the graveyard and try to fInd the Twins’ graves again. He said it like he was suggesting a walk in the park or something. Obviously, I really didn’t want to come, but he was sItting there with this excited puppy look. How was I supposed to say no? So, since it was raining out again (when does it ever stop?) we got out coats and umbrellas and went outsIde.

Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out in weather like that, for though the rain quickly turned to a thick fog, that wasn’t much better. I didn’t say a word, however. James, armed with his camera and a bottle of holy water (just in case), had a silly grin that denounced the faintest possibility of hostile paranormal interference.

What I should have done was not let him out of my sight. But of course, that’s not what happened. I bent down to examine the carving on a gravestone, and when I looked up, the head of Morgan Paranormal was nowhere to be seen.

I called to him, but there was no answer. It was ridiculous really, the woods behind my house aren’t even that large, but with the deep, heavy fog preventing me from seeing two feet in front of my face it could have gone on forever.

I wasn’t wandering blindly for long however, just as I was beginning to think myself well and truly lost in my own backyard, I hear something. A high, sweet note seemed to hang in the fog, and then began a haunting melody.

My heart beat faster. Who the hell was playing music in the woods? My brain told me to stop, but my feet just kept moving forward as if of their own accord. The tune was possibly the most beautiful I had ever heard. From the side, I was vaguely aware of someone giggling.

I was getting closer to the source, a great clump of trees where shadows seemed to hang like bed sheets, But as I approached, something happened. From within the shadows, something move, no, that’s not right, the shadows moved.

From between the trees a great black thing lurched out towards me as the sweet music began to scream. I began to scream as the mass staggered toward me and I fell down backwards. Still it kept on, and with every movement it seemed to shudder and moan with pain. The giggle I had heard was a raucous cackle as I fled, scrambling to my feet, the shape mere inches from my heels. I dashed, ungraceful and terrified through the woods, certain some unsightly beast would soon catch me and…

And I ran head long into James, and knocked the both of us down. I looked around; the fog had lifted, and the creature that pursued me was nowhere to be found. I grabbed onto James’ shoulders, and I don’t know how long I spent, sobbing and shaking.

I hate this house, this Rookery Tower. I won’t go into rooms that have no lights on. But an electric bill is nowhere near as frightening as the demons I face. James is with me right now; I hate to be alone. I wish Violet would return my calls. I think I’ll come and chat tonight, just for the company. Expect me around 9:30 or 10 my time. (Sorry Paul!)

This is Layla writing this journal entry. Layla would reply to her email too, but someone seems to be doing a good job of using her email without her being around.

I don't like teh way things are going. The more I find out about what happened in this house, the less I want to live here. James says we should stay and put the spirits to rest. I don't even know if they CAN be put to rest! One of them is a demon! The other two, think of the horrible lives they seem to have had.

They certainly seem to be doing their best to make MY life horrible.

I was locked into my bedroom last night, The door wouldn't open. I pulled and pulled until my palms were sweaty. Morgan was outside. He finally had to unscrew the hinges. We're thinking about doing the same thing with the attic. And when I finally got out of my room, I heard all these crows outside, cackling. I was nearly in tears.

I don't want to talk about this right now.

myabe I'll write more later.

So, we brought in a psychic, like it was suggested. It, uh, didn’t go very well in all honesty. In fact, in was bad. Here, let me tell you what happened yesterday.

We drove out to Ohio to give James’ friend the blood (no we don’t have the results back yet) and we went to a couple of different occult shops, and a church in the area. I wasn’t really certain whether or not the priest would actually give us the holy water or not, but James negated the necessity by filling a couple bottles while I was talking to the father. Yes, I did smack him for it; you’re not supposed to trick a priest.

Then we went to the lab, and James talked for like half an hour with this guy. I ended up standing around doing nothing. But then we went to this one occult shop, and somehow I started telling the woman there, her name was Susan, about what was happening at the house. She agreed to come out and see it, I don’t think she believed me at first. Does what’s going on at Rookery Tower really seem far-fetched?

So she followed us back to New York. Yeah, she just picked up and left. Turned the closed sign over on her shop. This is why I don’t trust psychics. Who would DO that? Things started as soon as we got back on the property. Something felt… wrong. I guess Susan really felt it, because she was very pale when she got out of the car. She said, and I quote…

“There are children here…and something else… something I don’t like.”

Of course, this was AFTER I’d told her basically what we knew was going on…so…

As we went through the house Susan got progressively more upset. We were going to the third floor hallway, but she refused.

“No way. I’m not going any further than this. There’s something… you need to do. I, I can’t help you. I’m sorry. I’m going home.”

And she left. James and I walked her to her car and she drove off.

James convinced me that we really did have to at least check the attic soon, though. So we had some lunch (sandwiches) and then we went upstairs. The entrance to the attic is, of course, in the third floor hallway. There’s a rope that hangs down and some pull out stairs. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get it to pull down. James pulled so hard the rope came off. Then we got a step ladder (James stood, I held it steady) and pulled at the door itself. But it was no go. The door wouldn’t open. James is thinking about getting an axe or something to open it, but I really don’t want to do that.

Something bad happened last night. Really bad. It was round ten o’clock. Nothing seemed like it was wrong. But I walked into the kitchen, and there was blood all over the floor! A great crimson pool of it! James rushed in when he heard me screaming. He cleaned it up. It didn’t vanish, like it does in the movies. It wasn’t just there for ‘effect’, there was blood on my kitchen floor! James saved some of it in a cup. He says he has a friend at college who can do some tests on it for us.

I was really shaken, so James took me back up to my room. I certainly didn’t want to be in the kitchen! Except when we got up to my room we heard all this thudding and crashing coming from inside. I really, really didn’t want to open the door. But James said we had to. I was cutting off the circulation to his arm again when he did it. And as he flung open the door everything just, for one moment…stopped. A single book tumbled from my shelf and fell to the floor, adding to what was already a disaster of great proportions. The pages began to whip in a demonic wind that came screaming toward the door, and out past us, down the hall. And then… silence. Almost. There was the sound of my own panicked breathing, and Morgan muttering the last words of a Hail Mary.

I didn’t think I need to say that I didn’t stay in my own room last night.

Today Morgan and I are running some ‘errands’. We’re going to see if we can obtain some holy water and maybe a priest to go with it. Or maybe a Sensitive. We also have to drop the blood off at James’ friend’s lab. We’ll be out all day. Thank God.

Hi everyone! It's Layla. It looks like someone else is posting in my blog now *glares at the prior post* so I thought I out to establish that it is actually me.

Mr. Morgan, James, is here. He's going to be staying with me, for now at least. We have been out all day. James says I shouldn't be in the house too much, especially considering what happened last night. I just checked my email. Something happened at seven? I’m so glad that I wasn’t here. I’ll reply to everyone soon. Hopefully, anyway.

James has the photos, but we need to get a scanner. We’re going to buy one tomorrow. Thank you all so much for all your help and support

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”I have been one acquainted with the night”

….W knugckx.

Jiwu

I'm starting to seriously think about leaving. I'm starting to really wish I wasn't here all-alone. I know I scared everyone last night, Mr. Morgan was panicked when I finally picked up the phone.

Here's what happened.

I was typing my reply to Morgan when I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye.

I turned my head to stare transfixed at my necklace as it skated across the floor to the doorway where the salt was and stopped. I started to get really scared then. Had I accidentally trapped something inside the room with me instead of keeping it out?

I turned back to the screen, and I tried again to type my reply. My fingers were shaking. I was typing for more than thirty seconds before I realized nothing was changing on the screen. I stared at it. It was definitely frozen. Except that it wasn’t. Somebody was typing using my name. I guess it was Eric.

As I was reading the conversation the hairs started to stand up on my neck. I told Mr. Morgan later that it was a sense of presence. I turned around, and I thought I saw someone standing there for a split second. Well, not really see; so much as get the impression of. A little boy with blond hair. Mr. Morgan says living in this house might be forcing my senses to become awakened. I don’t like it.

And then the computer screen went dark, and the lights flickered, and I screamed. There, I admitted it. I screamed. I wanted out of that room. I stood up and I hurried over to the doorway. And then I stopped.

Looming outside the hall was this immense shadow. Like a shadow being cast on the air itself. Darkness. It was staring at me. I don’t know how it could stare without eyes but it was staring at me. And its gaze sent chills through all my nerves.

Something pushed me, and I slipped on the necklace and fell backwards. I hit my head, and I must have gone unconscious.

I opened my eyes to the insistent ring of the phone. I didn’t remember what had happened right at first, and my head swam as I sat up. I tried to shake it off but that did more harm than good. The phone was still ringing. I remembered what had happened. The chat. Midnight. I was afraid to answer the phone. But I got up, unsteadily, and crossed the still unbroken line of chalk. I held onto the rail and was cautious of shadows as I want down to the kitchen and answered the phone. The dishpan was in the middle of the floor, right where I’d left it

Thank god it was Mr. Morgan on the phone. He calmed me down, and helped me check for a concussion. (I had a slight one) We’re starting to feel it isn’t safe for me to be alone. Would it be any safer for me to invite Mr. Morgan to stay?

Hi everyone.

The tacos were yummy. (I had them for dinner in case you hadn't heard) and aftewards I took a long bath and reread a bit from one of my favorite poets, Lord Byron. It was very relaxing.

I know it sounds like maybe I'm not taking this seriously, but I'm trying to calm my jangling nerves, so I won't freak out at the slightest little thing. Something big might happen tonight. I don't want to die of a heart attack.

Oh! I told Mr. Morgan about the chat thing, he thinks its a great idea. He's going to be on later with me, instead of calling me. That way if anything goes wrong we'll all know at once.

I'm really tense. Its less than an hour until midnight. I don't really want to think about it, but I guess I have to. Okay world. Do your worst!!

Okay, please not really!

Haha. I am getting so panicked these days. Morgan just emailed me back, he says he's been busy with the photos and everything and didn't notice that the bandwith on his page went down. He's getting it fixed. I can't believe I freaked outlike that. I feel so silly. Well, can you blame me? I don't know.

Morgan says the photos should be developed tomorow, and he's fixing the webpage. Meanwhile, I'm going to go make some tea. I'm stressing myself out.

I'm so worried. i haven't heard from Morgan since he left my house. He hasn't emailed me or replied to my emails. i'm starting to wish that I had his phone number. And now the website is down...