“Intertwined..

sown together.”

I hum the beat playing off of the old record player that squeaks out the tune.

“Rosa.. come on. We came here to find this ghost. Not listen to a record player.” Booker hisses. “No need to be so mean! This cozy homes sorta cute in a way. But theres a ton of chipped paint..” Imelda has her backpack slung over her shoulder, looking to the unlit family room.

I stand up from my kneeling place on the hard wood floor, sighing. A loud screech came from some other part of the house, but this isnt unusual. Probably a banshee.

“Lets look around more. The EMF hasnt gone off yet.” Booker begins walking toward the family room. Imelda is following.

This is my first ever ghost hunt, so thankfully we chose a small house. Im very invested in looking around. I feel like Im invading someones space, because this isnt the two floor home Im used to.

Walking towards them, my hand slides across the marble kitchen countertop. Smooth. My hand glides and stumbles as the sweat bumps my hand.

“Nothing in the family room..” Booker grumbles. “Im gonna look down the hall more. Maybe theres something there.” He says as he is still staring down at the EMF

“Okie Dokie!” Imelda smiles. She walks over and opens the door to the next room. In the darkened room, a red glow emits from a wine red book placed neatly on the sheets of a bed.

“Whats this?” Imelda gasps, running into the room. I follow closely behind, turning on the lights.

She is about to touch the book, before it flips open by itself to a random ratten page.

“Oh my gosh!” She squeals. Leaning over her shoulder, I read out loud, “Be happy or be fufilled?” Imelda immediately shouts. “Be happy!” She said.

Suddenly, the page flipped again. “It comes at a price?” I read nervously. Imelda shoots up. “BOOOOKERR!” She yells.

Imelda begins backing away from the book. I scrape on the floor, pushing myself back. A white symbol appears on top of the book, mistifying out of the air quickly.

“Binding spell- what the fuck were you guys doing playing around with a Necrionomon?!” Booker yells.

A loud banging and crashing noise can be heard throughout the house. “Fuck! Stay quiet!” Booker says in a hushed whisper. “We dont have a crucifix..” Imelda whines.

My chest is flailing, the lights in the room suddenly flickering at random points.

Suddenly, the lights go dark. Theres a bang, door creaking, then the voice of two screams. Two familiar screams.

“IMELDA?!” I scream. The lights are back on. Nobody is in the room with me. Another scream, and the feeling of a hand wrapping around my throat. But theres no one there.

Gasping for air as the grasp of nothingness gets harder, I grab the doorframe desperately. My vision gets flurry, and theres stll no air I can breathe. Fead and adrenaline are running through my veins as I continue trying to get a sliver of air.

The demon got it wrong. It wasnt Imelda and Booker. It was Imelda and me.

Intertwined. Sown together.