Link to Part 1
Link to Part 2
Link to Part 3
The fluorescent lights strained my eyes. I sat at a small office table in a cramped, undecorated room framed by a mirror built into the wall. I knew it was two way glass, and the officers could see me on the other side. I glanced up to the large security camera mounted in the corner. Cameras are a lot smaller now, you can even hide them in conventional objects. I found myself wondering if the camera hadn’t been replaced for budget reasons, or if they found the size intimidating.
The door opened, breaking my train of thought. A blonde, muscular woman came in with a tall brown-haired man trailing behind her. Both were wearing Police vests, but I could tell from the stripes on their shoulders that the woman was a Staff Sergeant, and the man was a Corporal. The woman made her way towards the chair across from me, while the tall man stood casually by the door.
“Hi, Margaret?” The Staff Sergeant spoke, sitting down at the table.
“Marnie.” I corrected her. Her eyes were a piercing blue, her face betraying no emotion.
“Marnie. I’m Staff Sergeant Rachel Lowes, this is Corporal Redding.” Redding waved.
“How’s Jared doing? Is he okay?” I asked. I hadn’t had an update since Jenny told me they took him in for emergency surgery.
“He’s stabilised for now, he’s being airlifted to the Royal Jubilee Hospital. He’s receiving the best care.” Lowes said, in a flat tone of voice. I worried for Jared, but was relieved he was still alive.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?” Redding asked. I had the distinct impression that Redding was the Good Cop.
“Coffee, please. Black, no sugar.” If I was going to be interrogated, the least they could do was keep me caffeinated. Redding nodded and left the room. My focus shifted back to Lowes, whose unblinking stare made me uncomfortable. We sat in silence for a moment before she spoke up.
“So you’re from the Mainland?” Lowes’ posture relaxed a bit as she leaned back in her chair.
“Yup. Vancouver girl, born and raised.”
“What brings you to the Island?” For anyone who’s been keeping up with my story, you know that’s a big question. I tried to answer these questions in a way that didn’t make me sound insane.
“I was doing a freelance job for Jared, he’s an old friend from college.” Lowes cocked an eyebrow.
“And what is it that you do?” Lowes almost certainly knew my background, but I humoured the question.
“I’m a Forensic Imaging Analyst, until recently I worked at a crime lab in Vancouver. I’m in between lab jobs at the moment, so I also work as a server in a restaurant.”
“And what use would one of our Corporals have for a Video Specialist slash waitress?” I grimaced at how she belittled both of my job titles, but I understood why she was asking.
“He didn’t want to tell anyone at work, but Jared thought he caught ghosts on his security cameras.”
“Ghosts?” Lowes stifled a grin, making a show of writing down “Ghosts” on her notepad.
“He wanted me to debunk the footage, or figure out what it really was.”
“Okay. Why come visit? Couldn’t you have done that over the phone, or email?”
“Because… I couldn’t debunk the footage.” My voice quavered.
The mood shifted in the room. Lowes didn’t have a follow up question, she just stared for a moment. I felt uncomfortable, but decided there was no better time to lay all my cards out.
“Can I show you something on my phone?” I asked.
“Please.” Lowes made a ‘go ahead’ gesture with her hand. For posterity, I had already edited together the most compelling bits of footage into a short montage. The Floating Spoon, the Shadow Man, and the Thermal Camera.
The Floating Spoon clip had Lowes’ smiling. I understood that, it looks like a special effect. By the time we got to the Shadow Man, and the Thermal Camera footage, the smile had disappeared from her face. After the video finished, I put my phone away. Lowes sat still for a moment. I found this woman impossible to read.
Redding opened the door, carrying a tray of Tim Horton’s coffee. He handed Lowes her drink, and placed a cup down in front of me. There was a ‘B’ written on the lid in white china marker. I gripped the cup, the heat warming my hands. I hadn’t realised how cold I was until then. Lowes didn’t mention the footage to Redding, she continued on with her questions.
“So you know Jared from college, when did you meet his wife?”
“Maybe a week ago now? I didn’t know her at all until I came to visit. She was really nice to me. I was a bit worried at first, ‘cause Jared and I used to date.” I regretted saying that the moment it slipped out of my mouth, but it seemed to get Lowes’ attention.
“You guys dated?” She seemed excited. I suppose even cops love it when you dish the tea.
“Yeah, that was a long time ago now. Jared ended things before going off to Regina for training.”
“So Jared ended the relationship? How did that make you feel?”
“I made peace with it, y’know? I moved on and started my own career. I didn’t even know he was married with a kid until he reached out to me.” Lowes scribbled something down in her notepad.
“How did learning about that make you feel?” She really lasered in on my feelings here. Based on my experience, she was looking for a motive.
“Fine. Happy for him, truly.” Lowes said nothing. Her silence speaks volumes.
“Like I said, I moved on.” I added. Lowes seemed unimpressed by my answer, but she switched gears.
“How did you come to meet Heather and John?” She asked.
“Jenny invited me over for dinner.” I pulled up the text and showed them. “I hadn’t met either of them before. Heather was nice to me, John’s kind of a dick.”
“That’s for sure!” Redding added from the corner of the room, chuckling to himself.
“Ah, I see you’ve met.” I joked. Lowes did not seem amused. Her tone became more forceful.
“What happened, Marnie? What happened to Jared?” I had already told first responders what happened. Mind you, I omitted the part about the ghosts. I said I thought Jared was falling down the stairs, but he hit the ceiling somehow, and I wasn’t sure what happened. All of that was technically true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
“I emailed Jared earlier in the day, because the cameras caught someone hiding in his backyard.” I pulled up the email I sent to Jared, and sipped my coffee as the two cops paused to read my email, and Jared’s reply. My coffee tastes burnt.
“We finished dinner, and I saw Jared had replied to my email. He showed up at the house, and took Jenny upstairs to talk to her. I don’t know what they said exactly, but I think he was concerned about their safety. Then when he came downstairs, that’s when it happened.”
“He fell down the stairs?” Redding interjected. Lowes glared at him before asking her own question.
“When they were coming down the stairs, was Jenny in front of Jared, or behind him?”
“Behind him. But she didn’t push him, if that’s what you’re thinking. He didn’t get pushed, or fall, exactly…”
“So what was it then?” Lowes spoke to me as if I were a misbehaving child.
“I don’t know! I thought he was falling down the stairs at first, but then he moved and smashed into the ceiling. It was like something hit him in the back.”
“Like a ghost?” Lowes added dryly. I got frustrated with her.
“I don’t know what the fuck it was, okay?! All I know is my friend got really hurt, I’m terrified, and I want to go home!” Tears welled up in my eyes. This had been the longest week of my life. Then Lowes asked a question that made my blood boil.
“Marnie… Were you and Jared having an affair?”
“How DARE you! No! Absolutely not!” I yelled. Despite my outburst, Lowes’ face still didn’t betray any emotion. At best she looked… disappointed? I was fed up at this point.
“I want my lawyer.”
I drove back from the police station and parked at my motel. I was too worked up to go back to my room, so I took a walk through their small town. I had no direction in mind. I was confused, sad, and angry all at once. Fighting the urge to sob uncontrollably in public, I kept going. I found myself walking along the highway, close to the restaurant where Jenny and I had dinner.
Through the air, I heard the chime of a church bell. I looked over to see a small, quaint building with a cross on the front of it. Normally I wouldn’t care, but commenters have been telling me to talk to a priest since my first post. I decided to walk up the L-shaped staircase leading to the door, and enter. The church smelled damp, and dusty. There were only a few rows of pews towards the front, and extra wooden chairs off to the side. The podium was carved from simple planks of wood. This was a very modest small town church, to be sure.
In the second to last row of pews sat two old women, who seemed surprised to see me enter. They all stood up to greet me.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” One of them asked. I must have looked worse than I thought.
“I just… is there someone I can speak to?” I said, fighting back tears.
“Lonnie’s husband is the Pastor, Father Ted.” The same woman said, gesturing to Lonnie. Lonnie shuffled towards the back room as the other two sat me down in the pew. The one who spoke to me introduced herself as Sylvia. After some small talk, an old man with a goatee and rectangular glasses came out to greet me. He sat with me, and the two women shuffled out the back exit.
“What seems to be the trouble?” Father Ted asked. I struggled to figure out where to begin.
“Father, do you believe in ghosts?”
“I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t.” He chuckled softly at my question.
I told Father Ted nearly everything, about my job, how I came to be in his town, the ghost recordings, and how my friend got taken into the ICU.
“That’s Jared, isn’t it?” He asked. My head perked up, confused.
“You know him?”
“Of course, I officiated at his wedding.” He smiled warmly. Small towns!
“The Church discourages getting involved with the supernatural. There is only Heaven, or Hell. There is no third option to come back as a ghost.”
Father Ted cleared his throat for a moment.
“The only ghosts are demons.”
Chills went down my spine. I hadn’t considered that.
“Father, can you help me? Maybe give me holy water, or something like that?” I asked.
“Child, have you accepted Jesus Christ into your heart?” Ted ignored my request.
“Honestly… no. I’ve never been religious” I said. Father Ted went off on a speech about how the only way to ward off evil was to accept Christ’s love, and all that. I have to be honest with you, he droned on for a bit, and I tuned out.
“Tell me, are you married?” My attention was back on Father Ted.
“No.” I responded quickly.
“It’s important to find yourself a husband, and serve him well.” Father Ted stated. He continued on that tangent for a moment, but I cut him off.
“Thanks for all your help, Father.” I said facetiously, before excusing myself out the door. As I climbed down the many steps, I saw the old ladies outside the back of the building. The exit they took led to a wheelchair accessible ramp. Leaning on the railing, they waved goodbye to me, and I waved back. They seem nice, though I doubt I’ll be consulting with Father Ted again.
Having had enough of the Good Book, I figured it would be a good idea to conduct my own research with Any Other Book. After making my way back to my car, I looked up the local library. The nearest one was back towards the police station. Not great route-planning on my part, but it is what it is.
As I entered the library, I was greeted by two librarians. One was younger, of First Nations descent, sporting glasses, and a tight ponytail. The other was an old white woman, her face wrinkled, and a scowl on her face. The young woman said “Hello!” cheerfully, while the older one grunted. I made my way past them into the heart of the library, where I found a computer loaded with their book searching tools.
I started pulling up history books. I read about the numerous Indigenous tribes that inhabited Vancouver Island long before then, and their spiritual ties with the natural world. I read about the town’s history as a British settlement over a hundred years ago, and various recorded events up until then. I had already been in the library for a few hours before I decided to pull books on hauntings, and demonology. As I opened dusty old tomes on the subject of demons, the elder librarian approached me.
“You shouldn’t be reading those.” I looked up at her. She glared at me. “That’s blasphemy.”
“Maybe don’t carry them, then?” I retorted.
“I don’t like your attitude.” She snarled, pulling the book I was reading straight out of my hands.
“Hey!” I hollered, startled by the audacity of this woman. The younger librarian started walking over.
“I’ve never seen you before, do you even have a library card?” The old crone asked in an accusatory tone.
“I’m not a local, I was just doing some research.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” I barely had a chance to respond before she grabbed my arm.
“Don’t touch me!” I shouted. At this point, the young librarian stood between us with her arms outstretched, trying to de-escalate the situation.
“Whoa! What’s going on?” She asked, looking towards her colleague.
“She’s trying to kick me out for reading a book! At a LIBRARY!” I enunciated the final word to highlight the ridiculousness of the situation.
“She doesn’t have a library card, she can’t check out any of these books.” The elder librarian gestured towards my table. In fairness, I had about 30 different books splayed across the table.
“I talked to her about it, and she gave me attitude!” The old woman finished. I was incredulous.
“That’s not what happ–” I tried to interject, but the young librarian jumped in.
“Maybe it’s best if you do leave.” The young woman spoke softly, and gave me a polite smile. She nodded her head back towards her coworker, and made a ‘yikes’ face. I got the impression of someone saying ‘Sorry I work with such a lunatic’. I thought about protesting, I even thought about calling the cops, but cooler heads prevailed. I had already been interrogated once today, and that was plenty. I grabbed my purse and the young librarian walked me out the door.
“I’m so sorry about her. She’s not usually this nuts.” Her face was kind, and her voice was soft, but her stance was… aggressive?
Her hands were on her hips, her legs were in a wide stance, and she was pointing her finger at me dramatically. I glanced behind her to see the elder librarian glaring at us through the window. The young librarian was putting on a show with her body language. It took me a moment to clue in to what she was doing, but I decided to join in. I tried my best to look angry.
“Yeah well, that’s nice of you to say!” My words were kind, but I made a point of gesticulating wildly for the audience in the window. The younger librarian took a step forward, still pointing at me.
“If you want to come back around eight, she’ll be GONE BY THEN!” She punctuated her last three words with aggressive hand movements. The old crone was smirking through the window.
“Well THANK YOU VEEEERY MUCH! THAT’S REALLY HELPFUL OF YOU!” I yelled, ‘storming off’ as dramatically as I could.
What an absolutely bizarre interaction.
This was easily the longest week of my life. As I drove back towards my motel, my mind ran through everything that had happened over these last few days. What could this young librarian want? Will Jared be okay? What could I actually do to stop these ghosts, or demons, or whatever they are?
Who was lurking outside Jared’s house?
That last thought lingered in my brain the longest, and I had an idea. Diverting from my route, I drove to Jared’s house. I pulled up the driveway, put my car in park, and walked up to the door. I rang the doorbell.
“Jenny? Are you home?” I yelled.
No answer. Looking around, I decided to grab their spare key. To be honest, I only knew where it was from watching their security footage. I ignored the ethical dilemma of my actions, and let myself in. I walked to my camera that was pointed at the blind spot, and scooped it up. I also grabbed my two audio recorders, and took everything outside.
Pulling up the footage on my phone, I worked out where the intruder would have hid. It was a good spot, there was plenty of foliage for cover, and the view of the backyard was excellent. I could see clearly into the kitchen and living room. Goosebumps trickled up my arm as I imagined someone watching me. I looked around for a good spot to hide my camera, and settled on an adjacent tree branch. I used a small tripod of mine that has malleable legs to wrap around the tree, then secured it in place with duct tape. The duct tape may have been appropriated from Jared’s garage, but I feel like Jared would be on board with this plan.
I taped both of my audio recorders inside the branches of the bush. They were hard to spot during the day, let alone at night. I brushed myself off, feeling confident about my little trap, and made my way inside. I cleaned up after myself, and left their house, locking the door on my way out. I hid the spare key where I found it, and got in my car. I sighed in relief. I was half-expecting a confrontation with Jenny, or her sister, or getting attacked by a demon. As I pulled out of the driveway, I locked eyes with the neighbour, Patricia. I smiled at her, and she returned my smile with a grimace. Honestly, is everyone in this town insane? I’ve never met Canadians this impolite.
No less than 10 minutes after leaving, I got a text from Jenny: Are you at my house? Snitches clearly don’t get stitches in this town. I wrote back: Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. Just grabbed some of my equipment, hope that’s okay. I received a thumbs up emoji, and figured that was the end of that. A few minutes after that, I got another one.
How did you get in? Door was locked. Ah, crap. I came up with a white lie. Jared showed me where it was in case of emergencies. Just used it for the first time today. Sorry again, I should have asked first. I got a reply rather quickly: no no, its ok. This time I sent her a thumbs up.
To my great relief, I didn’t receive any more texts after that. I had had such a long day at this point, I wanted nothing more than to go crawl into my bed back at the motel. Still, I had a mysterious appointment across town with a librarian at eight, and it wasn’t yet 7pm, so I had some time to kill. I found a local fast food place, and devoured my weight in burgers, fries, and chicken nuggets in the parking lot. A younger me might have felt shame about this decision, but given all that’s been going on in my life, I decided to be kind to myself, and not give a shit.
I texted Sara about my upcoming meeting, just to be safe. No response from her, but she was working. After wasting some time watching internet videos on my phone, I had successfully killed enough time to head back to the library. Thank god, all I want to do is go to bed. I pulled up towards the back of the parking lot at exactly 8pm.
As I walked up to the door, I was surprised to find it locked. Reading the sign, I realised the library closes at 7. I suppose the younger librarian just wanted to give enough of a buffer for her coworker to leave. I heard a noise from beside the entrance.
“Psst! Over here!” The young librarian gestured over to me from around the corner. My hands were in my pockets, clutching onto my keys and pepper spray. To my relief, the woman was alone, and her posture was non-threatening.
“Hey! Sorry about earlier. I think Edith’s going senile.” With a name like Edith, the math checks out.
“That’s okay. So, what’s going on? Why did you want to meet me here?” I cut right to the chase, wanting nothing more than the sweet relief of bed. The woman handed me a book, it was thin, dirty, and tattered. It looked home-printed. That book was called the Sect of Seven, by Dakota John.
“I know who you are. I’ve seen your videos. If you’re here, this is the only book that matters.” The woman stated, her voice confident. Weird that this is my first interaction with a fan outside of Jared, but I digress. I took the book from her, admiring it.
“Read this book, and bring it back to me as soon as you can. This is from Edith’s personal collection, it can’t go missing for long. Drop it in the drop box, I’ll make sure she doesn’t find it.” I was thoroughly confused, but did as I was told. As the young woman went to leave, I asked the only thing I could think of at the moment.
“Wait! What’s your name?”
“Andi.” She turned, and walked away.
Okay, well that was weird. Not wanting to get caught by a scary old woman outside the library, I took the banged-up old book to my car, and headed straight for the motel.
Turning on as many lights as I could, I got to work taking a photo of every page of this book. To my immense relief, the book was rather short, maybe 120 pages. While I didn’t get a chance to read everything, I skimmed a lot of the book as I took pictures. From what I gather, the Sect of Seven is a religious group brought over from England.
It seemed as though Dakota John was an investigative journalist of sorts. He traced this particular religious group all the way from England to Vancouver Island. He believed they were still active, and committing atrocities such as human sacrifice. There were a few grainy photos in the book, but it was hard to make out much more than people in cloaks. He went on to explain their origins, and beliefs.
The Sect was founded by one Cleda Burgess in the 1700s. Cleda believed that their ancestors were possessed by the 50 spirit legions of King Belial, a mighty demon who must be presented with offerings and sacrifices. Cleda claimed that while they could have many followers, there could be only seven leaders of the group at one time, one for each demon. Being a leader would therefore make you a vessel for that demon, who would grant you power, and wisdom. The seven demons were Belial, Bael, Vine, Purson, Buer, Valefar, and Sitri.
My eyes widened for a moment. I put the book down, and pulled out my laptop. I opened the audio recording of the whisper in the woods:
“…son…eealll…efar…ine…tree…ale…ooerr…”
Listening close, the nonsense words finally clicked for me:
“Purson… Belial… Valefar…Vine… Sitri… Bael… Buer…”
Ah fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.
I need to leave this town. Immediately. I then remember I’m on an island. I open my phone and book a ferry reservation home for the next morning. I finished taking pictures of the book, and placed it on my night stand. Still feeling deeply panicked, I turned on the motel TV, and found a channel playing some light-hearted sitcoms. My brain could use some positivity after all that had happened. Leaving my lamp on, I crawled straight into bed. I was so worn out, it took no time at all to fall asleep.
My eyes shot open. It was still bright in the room from the lights and TV being left on, so it was hard to tell what time it was. No light came in through the open window, I think it was still night time. I rubbed my eyes at the TV, my eyes felt fuzzy, like I couldn’t see the picture as clearly as I could before. Staring at it, I started to make out a dark shape in front of the screen. Everything within that shape was just a little bit darker, the light a little less bright. My eyes traced the borders of the darkness, and I realised it was shaped like a man.
My eyes widened in horror of what I was seeing. The darkness became less transparent as the TV screen darkened, and darkened until I couldn’t see it any more. The shape became an opaque blackness, a rim of light from the TV formed an outline behind it. I stared at it, unable to move. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
The shadowy figure loomed large, and it seemed to get larger. Its vague humanoid shape seemed to stretch to the edge of my vision. From its shoulders I noticed two angular shapes sprouting, like black wings stretching to the very corners of the ceiling. It felt like the shadows reached beyond the room, like what I was seeing was immensely larger than the space it was in, but phased through the walls. As the wings expanded, the fine details of the head became more defined.
Though the body was human shaped, the head was not. It looked like a beast, almost resembling a lion. Somehow in the blackness I could make out fangs. It continued growing larger, and I felt like I was about to be swallowed whole into the darkness. The beast let out a petrifying roar, a sound unlike any sound I had ever heard. It sounded almost metallic, like a throat full of grinding metal. I tried to scream, but only a whimper came out. I was writhing in my bed, in a state of unrelenting fear. Blackness enveloped the room. I finally managed to turn my head, and read the time on the digital clock just before the light was swallowed by the blackness.
3:24 am.
I gasped for air, hyperventilating. My eyes burned under the intensity of bright lights. I was looking at… the sky? I was outside! My body was cold, and I saw that I was lying on the pavement. Scanning my surroundings, I was along the highway, miles from my motel. I looked down at myself, and realised I was naked.
Oh no.
I heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel behind me, and I turned around to see a police car. I hastily tried to cover myself. The door opened, and Staff Sergeant Lowes stepped out of the vehicle.
“Hey Marnie. Rough night?”