“Haunted house,” I muttered under my breath with a nervous chuckle, trying to convince myself that it was all just a joke. After all, every old place is haunted, right?
I busied myself with brewing a fresh pot of coffee, the familiar aroma filling the air and helping to ease my lingering concern. I poured myself a steaming cup and sat down at the table. Opening my laptop, I began to review my notes from the interview I’d conducted at the Old Corner Store.
My eyes scanned the page, landing on the phone number I’d scribbled down for the Leesburg Ghost Tour. I felt a chill run through me as I recalled the strange events that had played out yesterday and last night. Real or imaginary, I wanted to talk to someone… anyone older than a child, who might be able to shed some light on what was going on.
“Why not?” I muttered to myself, reaching for my cell. “Nothing to lose.” My heart raced as I dialed the number. Almost instantly, there was an answer, and I heard a recorded message filled with spooky screams, creaks, groans, and howling winds. I shook my head at the irony of it all as the message began:
“Oh, great, another moron calling about the Leesburg monthly ghost tour.”
You could hear paper shuffling as the female voice continued speaking, clearly off-microphone, to someone else in the room.
“Like, seriously, do I have to read this?”
“Kat…” a male voice admonished her from the background.
“Fine, whatever.” Her voice became clearer as she spoke directly into the mic.
“You’ve reached the Leesburg Ghost Escapades, where we’ll take you on a tour that’s probably not as scary as my mood right now.”
“Stick to the script, Kat,” the annoyed background voice interjected.
I rolled my eyes at the unprofessional recording but continued to listen. Despite the sarcasm dripping from the woman’s voice, I couldn’t help but hope someone might be able to provide insight into my situation.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting to it,” she continued with a heavy sigh, clearly frustrated.
“Attention, fellow victims… uh, I mean, valued customers! The moon’s out, the spirits are restless, and we’re bracing ourselves for another round of ghostly shenanigans. So, ready yourselves, because there’s a tour tonight. Yep, you heard me. Tonight! The ghosts are getting ready to put on their best show, and by best, I mean they’ll be trying to remember how to make things go bump in the night.”
“Just finish it, please,” the male voice whispered.
“Leave your name and number after the beep, and we’ll add you to the list of people who willingly signed up for this ghostly rollercoaster.” Her voice trailed off as she addressed her companion.
“Happy now?”
“That was amazing.” the male voice muttered sarcastically.
“You know what, Normie?” Kat replied, “If you think you can do better, why don’t you record the message?” She paused before mumbling under her breath.
“Jerk.”
“I heard that, Kat.”
The back-and-forth went on, both talking over one another until their exchange was abruptly cut off by the beep.
“Uh, hi,” I hesitated, unsure how to respond to the odd recording. “My name is Samantha Payne, and I’m not interested in your tour, but I need help with a… ghost problem. If anyone there knows anything about real spirit encounters, please call me back at this number.”
I hung up the phone, shaking my head at the strange recording.
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K. D. Phillips, Author 
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