I Met the Owner of America's Largest Private Collection of Haunted Objects, And Now My Life Will Never Be The Same

I Met the Owner of America’s Largest Private Collection of Haunted Objects, And Now My Life Will Never Be The Same

After several seconds, I forced myself to look away (because I’m a goddamn gentleman) and turned to Mikey as I said, “The girl’s got a point.”

Mikey nodded as he yanked open a nearby drawer and began to rummage through it. “I’ll admit I hadn’t anticipated such a well coordinated attack from someone like Linus. That’s my bad.”

Lynn let out an indignant scoff that was part “I told you so” and part “no shit, Sherlock!”

Mikey paused his rummaging to give her a pleading look and then he continued, “But you have nothing to worry about. Everything is going to be fine. If I can survive a night at Nicolas Cage’s house, I sure as hell can handle this novice level, clown shoes bullshit… Ah-HA! Here we go.”

Mikey retrieved a thin ornately-engraved stone pipe from the drawer and glanced inside the bowl before lighting it and taking a long drag. The bewilderment I was feeling must’ve shown through my expression because as Mikey exhaled, he saw me staring at the apparatus and held it up.

“H.P. Lovecraft’s opium pipe,” he said, pointing at it.

I nodded and replied, “You think that’s the best idea right now?”

Mikey shrugged as he glanced at the pipe in his hand and said, “I cleaned it first.”

“And what are you smoking out of it?”

“Opium,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Mikey took another hit.

“It makes NO sense,” Lynn nearly screamed and let out a frustrated groan. She was staring at a bank of security monitors mounted to one wall of the panic-room and watching as the horde of spider-things began to make their way into the den. “The Darkness is an easy summon but why the fay-spiders?”

“Because they’re transcorporal,” Mikey responded through an exhale of sweet-smelling smoke. He started over to the bank of monitors and continued, “Linus knew I’d have every entrance to this place protected…”

“Do you?” Grace asked in a concerned tone.

“I had eleven different holy men bless every doorway, window, and air-vent. Plus, a coven of white-hat wickins comes by once a month to renew a barrier of protection.”

“Wait, so FUCK! They’re gonna…” Lynn gasped and turned back to examine the security feed of the living room.

“They’re gonna what?” I asked before I was even aware of the question leaving my mouth.

They both glanced at me and then Mikey turned back to face Lynn as he said, “Not if I can help it.”

“Help WHAT?!” I shouted in frustration.

Mikey nodded at Mauricio and asked, “You remember that box of arts-and-crafts supplies I had you stash in here? Can you grab it?”

Mauricio nodded and nearly sprinted into a small alcove at the back of the room containing a row of large gray supply-cabinets. As he began to search through one of the cabinets, Mikey turned to face me and finally explained…

“The mortal plane’s inhabitants are divided into three tiers: corporeal, discorporeal, and transcorporeal. Because of their physiological makeup, a corporeal entity like you or I cannot physically affect a discorporeal entity. Those are ghosts, wraiths, poltergeists, what have you. But a transcorporeal being like a species of fairy or ‘fay’ would be able to affect both… That’s fairy like with the dust, not like Mauricio.”

Mauricio paused his search to let out an exaggerated gasp and shouted in a mock-offended tone, “HEY!”

Mikey replied with a smirk and a wink as Grace snapped her fingers at him and chided, “Now is not the time for opium and kitschy dialog! FOCUS!”

I was pretty sure I was starting to get it and said, “They’re going to dissolve your protection barrier?”

Mikey nodded and exhaled another cloud of opium smoke as he replied, “They’ll probably chew through the door too, just to be dicks about it. Luckily, I’m not gonna let ‘em get much farther than that.”

Mauricio returned with a box of colored tape and other assorted supplies as Lynn narrowed her eyes at Mikey and said, “Care to share exactly how you plan on stopping them?”


About the author

Joel Farrelly

When Joel isn’t writing creepy-ass short stories, he can be found scripting and acting in subversive comedy sketches on YouTube. You can follow Joel on Twitter or support him on Patreon, if you’re into that.