I knew the moment I had seen the ghost that it was bad news, but had no idea it had spent the last 50 years killing people in this town. I needed to figure out who it was and what I could do to get rid of him. The search for someone who lost an arm in this town, though, came up with nothing. It seemed hopeless.
“We aren’t going to find anything in here,” I said out loud.
“You wanna go play now?” Dillon asked me.
“I’ll tell you what, as soon as I find out how to get rid of this ghost we can play.”
“I have to be honest, I have no idea what to do.”
“How do we get rid of him?”
He had a very good question to which I didn’t have the answer.
“You need something of the ghost’s,” I told him.
“Oh,” he replied.
I thought about it for a long time. The first occurrence of him we know about was when he killed Dillon, but for all I knew he could be hundreds of years old. He could be even older than that. That is when my brain started to work. It occurred to me that the ghost could be from somewhere other than this town. Remember when I told you that ghosts can be tied to an object? This was going to be tough to get out of a little kid.
“Before you died, do you remember if anything was brought to this town?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked back. I realized how vague that question was.
“Was there something big or antique-like brought to this town? Like to a museum.”
“I don’t know.”
That certainly got me nowhere.
“Oh wait,” he said, stopping me from walking away.
“What?” I asked.
“I remember something. Before I died there was a murseum.”
“You mean museum?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I would say that is worth checking out.”
I convinced Dillon to ride on the bike with me again because I would have imagined that the ghost would return at any time. So, we made our way to the museum and I hoped that it was closed. If it was it would make my life just a little bit easier, but when did that ever happen?
When we pulled up to the building it was definitely open and there were definitely people of both variety in there. I walked up to the front door and saw that the charge was 15 dollars, for a museum in a small town. That was just severely over priced. At least they took a card.
The girl behind the front desk looked like she was really loving her life. She had her face in both of her hands and it was all pushed up into her eyes. I handed her my card. It looked like it took a lot of effort but eventually she took her hands away from her face long enough to ring me up.
“I don’t suppose you know of anything in here that came here in the 60’s?” I asked her.
“Dude,” she started, “this place was opened in the 60’s. Pretty much everything in here is that old.”
“Right. Thank you.” I took my card back and walked away.
With Dillon on my heels I made my way through the museum trying to find anything that might tell me about that awful ghost.
“What are we looking for?” Dillon asked me.
“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “Can you read?”
“Yes, I can read.” He was offended by that.
“Sorry.” I put my hands up as if I were defending myself. “Look for anything that might talk about a man with one arm or a curse or something.”
“I can do that.”
We both started to walk around and I generally ignored everyone in there because I couldn’t tell who was dead and who wasn’t. It was a very tedious task to have to read every little plaque explaining what I was looking at but if I wanted to get rid of the ghost then I was just going to have to suck it up.
It wasn’t more than three minutes when Dillon came popping out of a statue I was looking at. I jumped and tried not to make any noise.
“Jeez,” I said. I hadn’t even realized that he wandered off.
“Sorry,” he apologized.
“I found something.”
“Lead the way.”
I followed him until we were on the other side of the wall until we came to a desk. Upon reading the plaque in front of it I found out it belonged to Prince Gregory VII.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “This is our guy.” It turned out this guy was a murderous psychopath and he tortured his victims back in the 1400’s. When the people finally discovered that he was the one killing everyone in their village they took revenge on him. They cut off his arm and completely mangled his face.
“This guy is a real winner,” I said.
“Read the rest,” Dillon suggested.
I did as he said and found out that this desk has been moved from museum to museum and in each town that it has been held there were a lot of unexplained deaths. That meant that this ghost has gone from town to town killing a lot of people, but why?
“That’s strange,” I said.
“This is what we needed?” he asked.
I turned to look at him. He looked very scared.
“What?” I asked.
I turned around and saw what had him so frightened. The prince was staring me right in the face. He had come back…