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How to Become a Ghost Hunter

By Drunk Dracula All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Horror

How to Become a Ghost Hunter

Ever since I was a young boy I have always been fascinated by the supernatural. Ghosts, Vampires, Zombies, Werewolves, all of them. A haunted house, a possessed doll, a vengeful spirit, a demon from Hell, whatever it was, if it was truly frightening, I was hooked.

About a year ago I watched a show that would change my life. It was show about Ghost Hunters. Well, it wasn’t a show about Ghost Hunters, it was a show with Ghost Hunters, starring real people like me. People who were actually out there hunting ghosts. It was awesome. I watched every episode. I knew then exactly what I wanted to do and what I was going to do. I became a Ghost Hunter.

Now as you may or may not know, there is no practical education or program to help you become a Ghost Hunter. There’s no college. No online certification. You have to be resourceful. At the time, I lived with my girlfriend, Carlee, and together we decided to pool our savings and start a Ghost Hunting business. We quit our jobs so we could have the time to dedicate ourselves to the craft at hand and purchased a digital camera, a handheld sound recorder and some lighting equipment. We created a website, designed a logo, printed business cards, and started Facebook, Twitter and Instagram accounts. We marketed ourselves to the world. We were ready to hunt ghosts.

One of the things you should know about ghost hunting is that no one is going to hire you just because you say you’re a Ghost Hunter. The spirits of the dead don’t just show up when you need them to. You have to go out and get them. We started with nightly seances. Using black candles, pentagrams, Ouija boards, Pagan chants, and the darkest parts of the Bible, the Torah and the Koran, we called them forth. We read out loud, passage after passage, whispering and screaming into the night and hoping that one of the dead and damned would hear us and show up, ready to be caught on camera and shared with the living. But they never did. It was then that I knew we had to take this little enterprise of mine to the next level.

Our first cemetery was a disappointment. It was too large, too close to the city and patrolled by security. We were almost arrested. But the next graveyards were smaller and on the outskirts of the county with plenty of room and time to do what I knew I had to do. It took some convincing, but pretty soon my Carlee was practicing rituals, reading incantations, and even dancing on graves while I directed her in our dark art, filming and recording everything. We did this night after night for two weeks, hitting over a dozen different cemeteries in six different counties. I felt like we were making progress, but Carlee was starting to complain. The bills were piling up and we were having a hard time paying rent. But I was not about to give up. I stopped sleeping and spent each night watching and listening to my videos and recordings over and over. I knew there was something, something I had to find hidden in those hours and hours of footage. It was waiting for me. Just me. I could feel it.

It’s amazing how much information about murderers and victims of violence you can find on the internet, including the places where they are buried. I found thirteen graves associated with the old Clivemore Regional Hospital. They used to bury prisoners there that died on the operating table. We arrived at midnight and I cut the padlock on the back gate. Carlee didn’t want to go, but I convinced her we were so close to getting everything I wanted and told her that if she didn’t go I’d leave her. Once inside, I set up my equipment and told Carlee to say the words I had given her and begin dancing on their graves. While she did that I made a bunch of small cuts on my forearm, cupped the blood in my hands and splashed her with it. I should have told her I was going to do that because that was the night she said she wanted to quit. She said things were getting out of control and I was obsessed. At the time, I remember I didn’t like her saying that about me. But now I know that Carlee was right. Obsession is what you need to be a Ghost Hunter. Because after I strangled her in that cemetery I started hearing them right away. And now I hear them all the time, every day and every night. I hear them, but I can’t see them. Not yet. But I know they are there. They are all around me and all around us and I am going to find them, because now I am a ghost hunter. A real Ghost Hunter.

I just need a new partner.

Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Drunk Dracula
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