“The Shower that Dripped Blood!” can be found in the anthology, Hunting Ghosts: Thrilling Tales of the Paranormal. You can find the anthology by clicking the links below
An Excerpt from “The Shower that Dripped Blood!”
“It has never actually dripped blood.” Albert told the man on the couch across from him.
The man’s style puzzled Albert. He looked like the jocks that used to push Albert around in high school or, more accurately, like the jocks would look now. Late twenties, spikey (too young looking) dyed black hair, white business shirt over a black death metal band tee.
Albert imagined this guy woke up one day, high school was over and he wasn’t cock of the walk any more. The guy probably thought, “What the hell do I do now?”
But, these guys usually ended up opening lawn mowing businesses where they could drive around with their shirts off and impress lonely housewives or bars where they could brag about football and conquests of the past.
What makes a washed up jock say, “Hey, I’ll head to the state U and start a ghost hunting club. Maybe we’ll get our own tv show on Chiller or 0NO TV” or whatever channel Spirit Trackers was on.
“Excuse me?” The man, Albert remembered his name was Hunter, which was a little too on the nose, looked back at him as if he had just passed gas.
“I said,” Albert repeated, “The shower never actually bled…”
“Like you told, Ronetta.” Hunter interpreted.
“Correct,” Albert stopped there and cleared his throat. Hunter was getting a little red in the face. Albert had thought that bleeding objects (walls, doors, beds, and maybe showers) were a dime a dozen in this line of work, but obviously he had just stomped on Hunter’s dream for some kind of paranormal award.
Hunter calmed himself a little and looked over at the camera man, maybe to remind himself that this was being recorder and he could not just attack.
“And why, Mr. Teague…” Hunter started back.
“Please, call me Albert” He interrupted.
“Then, why, Albert, did you tell Ronetta…”
“The girl on the phone?”
Hunter was getting frustrated again, “Yes, our researcher and resident wiccan.”
This statement, a repeat of the introduction from earlier, made Albert more nervous, “How does one become…” Which (or course) made him talk even more, “…a resident wiccan?”
“Ronetta is here,” Hunter replied curtly. He then held up his hand quickly before Albert could interrupt again. “And, I am sure you will have time to ask her that later. At the moment, there is one thing that we must establish.” Hunter leaned forward across Albert’s second hand coffee table. “On the phone you stated that your shower was spraying blood and not water? Why would you tell our researcher…”
“Ronetta the wiccan?” Albert couldn’t help himself, he was flustered.
The man across from him paused for just a moment and brought his hand up in a point. Then, he calmed down, just a little, and spoke slowly. “Yes, why did you tell Ronetta that your shower dripped blood?”
Albert had not known that Ronetta was a wiccan when he had talked to her on the phone. He was actually very glad he had not.
It was bad enough having to talk with a woman who had such a sexy voice (of course the package did not match the image that the voice created). If he would have known that he was talking to someone with psychic powers or someone who could discern whether or not he was lying (or fantasizing about her). Well, let’s just say that the conversation would have gone very differently.
Yet, the real reason behind the lie was something very simple.
“I was nervous.” Albert looked down at his shaking hands. “Your resear…Ronetta asked a ton of great questions. She really is quite thorough. Then, she got to the point where she wanted to know what was going on. What the, ah… ghost”
There he had said it out loud.