The Curse of Wild Lake High - Part 1 (WIP)

Author's Note: 

It's been a while since I've posted here. I want to do it more often. I think I'm going to restructure the blog and share works in progress as well as my favorite corruption media. Maybe I can create a little corruption hub for people who like the genre. 

This story, on its surface, is very similar to another story I started writing for Literotica: Zadza's Prize. Both stories arose from a hentai called Bi Indoushi Mija. It's not a good hentai (is there any such thing?), but it has a few great moments. This story will carry those themes into a full fledged story of my own. Meanwhile, Zadza's prize is going off in a radical new direction. 

I'll update this story as I add to it. I'm hoping to post it to Literotica and MCStories before the week is up. Also, if you don't follow my twitter (which you should), I submitted Organism-X Ch. 10 yesterday. It should be out by Wednesday. That chapter is going to be a wild one. 

Final note: It goes without saying, but all characters are over eighteen years old. 

The Summoning

Myra braced herself as the cold October wind hit her exposed skin - and there was a lot of exposed skin. She had worn the sexiest outfit she could find, which was a low-cut black dress. It, combined with the push-up bra at least made it look like she had tits. Not that it mattered.

Even though Myra had pulled out all the stops, Damien had barely glanced at her all night. He was too engrossed in his work.

“Myra, what are you standing around for? Help me complete the circle!” The young man demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Myra responded, grabbing a piece of chalk and hustling over to help.

Damien Blackreach was every guy Myra’s mother had warned her about. He was the kind of miscreant that made local preachers froth at the mouth and young mothers hide their children. Tall, dark, and handsome. And gruesome.

Damien wore a black leather jacket, black eyeliner, black jeans, and black aviators. His hair, also black, was kept long and shaggy, making him look like a wild beast from certain angles. In fact, the only thing on Damien that was not black was his skin. That was pale as snow.

There were rumors at Hillsdale College that Damien was a vampire. On more than ten different occasions, he had drunk the blood of the innocent in rituals too vile to speak of aloud.

He didn’t worship Satan. That would be tacky. Besides, a true expert in the occult would know that Satan was nothing more than a boogeyman crafted by the Catholic church in the middle ages. Damien worshiped other beings: Elder Gods and true demons. These creatures could not be named out loud lest the speaker were toying with catastrophe.

Of course, these rumors only served to drive Myra, a lifelong church girl, nuts. Finally free from her mother’s overbearing yoke, Myra burst onto the scene of Hillsdale college, ready to be defiled. Damien had been more than happy to help her on that journey.

But not tonight. Tonight, Damien was focused.

When it came to the occult, no one was a more devoted student than Damien Blackreach. Myra had watched the man practice his craft in awe, basking in his dark glory.

Still, Myra was beginning to wish Damien had picked another night to summon a demon. It was cold and she felt silly with her boobs practically popping out of her dress. Why couldn’t he just get handsy and try and fuck her like a normal boy?

“We’re ready,” Damien said, giving the summoning circle a final glance. “Lock hands with me, my Desdemona. You have memorized the incantation?”

“Yes, my master,” Myra said.

Damien insisted that Myra call him master. It was a little odd, but she had gotten used to it.

“Let us begin.”

They stood in the middle of the circle and began to chant. As they did so, Myra imagined her life essence flowing out from her mouth and into the air. Damien had given her explicit instructions to do so and she was determined to please him.

Within seconds, a cold and powerful breeze began to swirl around the circle like a small tornado. Myra could not believe what she was seeing. Even with Damien’s assurance, all of this occult junk had seemed like fantasy. Now that she saw otherwise, she was getting scared.

But still Myra continued the chant. The last thing she wanted was to upset her beloved master.

Defying all belief, the summoning circle began to glow a bright white color as they neared the end of the chant. At this point, Myra was beginning to feel lightheaded. Could the ritual really be taking her energy? What if it took too much?

Before Myra could worry further, the circle flashed with blinding light before fading to mundane chalk once more.

“Damien-um, I mean Master, did it work?”

Damien motioned for Myra to be quiet and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. It was the most intimacy Myra had all night.

“Stay back, my beloved Desdemona. It might not be safe,” Damien answered.

All of a sudden, a melodious chuckle rang out from the shadows. Myra looked closely and to her horror, noticed an imposing black figure.

“Desdemona was choked to death by her husband, Othello. Your parents must have had a real sick sense of humor naming you,” The figure said.

For a demon, his voice was surprisingly pleasant. It had an almost musical quality.

“I’m not really named Desdemona,” Myra said.

“Be quiet, girl!” Damien hissed. He turned to face the black figure, jabbing his pointer finger at it. “Vasana, son of Harlequin, I, Damien Blackreach, bind you to my service!”

There was silence for a wretched length of time and then the demon chuckled once more. Slowly, he stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself in the lamp light of the high school parking lot.

He was an imposing and muscular being, standing well over six feet tall. However, his face was elegant and attractive - almost feminine. His hair was golden and sparkled as if it were permeated with powdered diamonds. Colorful tattoos marked the demon’s entire body. His eyes blazed with purple light that was mesmerizing to look at.

“So, Damien, you wish to make me your servant?”

“Yes,” Damien said. “I bind you.”

The demon stepped closer, showing no sign of fear.

“So I shall aid you at your every beck and call. I shall kill or even die for you if you ask it of me?”

“Yes! You will be my slave. You will help me to become a god!” Damien shouted back, his voice cracking as he said the word “god”.

Myra had come to admire the masculine energy of Damien Blackreach, but in comparison to the demon standing before them, he was a pipsqueak. All too quickly, the illusion that had made Damien so attractive to Myra was beginning to wither.

“Such ambition,” the demon said. “Such burning anger lying just under the surface. I’m guessing you were picked on at some point in your past. You know what it feels like to be powerless and you’ve had enough. I am merely a conduit for your future greatness!” The demon exclaimed.

“Yes! Yes! You will do my bidding, and grant me your power!” Damien shouted, his voice echoing across the parking lot of the high school.

The demon chuckled again, making Myra shiver. Something wasn’t right.

“There’s only one problem,” the demon said, leaning in close to Damien. “If you want to bind me, you have to use your real name, Damien. Or should I say Leslie.”

Damien’s face went ashen.

“No,” he said.

The demon erupted into a fit of laughter.

“Yup! You just summoned a demon to this plane, no string attached. Oh Leslie Felders, you idiot!”

“That’s not my name. I am Damien Blackreach and you will listen to me!”

This only made the demon laugh harder. In turn, Damien’s rage boiled to the surface. With a primal scream, Damien ran at the demon, his fists raised.

The demon sent the young man tumbling across the parking lot with a slight swipe of his hand. Myra watched, horrified. How much strength did this demon possess?

“How pathetic.” The demon turned his attention to Myra. “Now you’re a different story.”

The demon raised a finger at Myra. From it erupted a purple energy that surrounded Myra, binding her in place. It didn’t matter much. She was petrified with fear.

The demon loomed over Myra, a big, frightening grin on his face. Without hesitation, the demon took her in his arms and pulled her into a deep kiss. Myra tried to fight it, but the sensation was almost intoxicating. The demon’s smell, his animal warmth, his power, it was exhilarating to be around. Before she knew it, she was being sucked in by his strange charm.


“You’ll be my first bride. I can sense your longing for a master. Something tells me Leslie over there isn’t cutting it. Now, take a piece of my darkness.”

The demon raised his finger and pointed it at Myra’s forehead. A point of black energy formed at the tip, growing in size with each passing second.

“Don’t worry,” The demon said. “This will only hurt a little.”

At that moment, Damien Blackreach, otherwise known as Leslie Felders, let out a loud whimper. Normally, the demon Vasana wouldn’t waste his time on such a pathetic human being, but something about this one in particular annoyed him. There was something tacky and cliche about the black haired youth and it made Vasana want to hurt the boy.

Glancing over, Vasana saw that the boy had managed to piss himself. A trickle of blood ran down from the boy’s lips, despite being dealt a blow on the lighter side. What a weakling.

The demon called back the darkness from his fingers. The girl would have to wait.

Vasana looked to the whimpering boy and raised his hand. From it came a gale of powerful wind that sent Damien Blackreach flying across the parking lot, screaming as his body collided with the pavement over and over again.

“Consider yourself lucky, kid,” The demon said. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m just going to take your girl.”

Damien landed in a motionless heap on the ground, his body beat up and broken. He could offer no response.

The demon Vasana turned his attention back to the lovely girl, but as he did so, his arm erupted in flames.

“Damn it!” He said. “My power isn’t strong enough this plane. The magic is tearing this body apart.”

In that moment, his spell wore off the girl, causing her to fall on her butt on the ground.

Myra looked up at the demon, her eyes bulging with terror.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” She repeated over and over again.

Vasana lunged forward and tried to grab the girl, but she was already on her feet and dashing out of the parking lot. With magic, Vasana could easily restrain her, but another spell might destroy his earthly body.

Instead, the demon watched the girl run away with mounting frustration. He was free on the earth, but his powers were severely limited for now. He would have to bide his time.

By now, Vasana’s arm had withered to a mangled stump. None of this was ideal.

Vasana took in his surroundings, noticing a large sign that read “Wild Lake Senior High School.

“A school, huh? That’s interesting. Maybe I’ll stick around.”

The demon allowed himself to be swallowed by the ether, returning him to his pocket plane. He would wait and watch. Now was the time to be careful.

Tony’s Crazy, Hot Cousin

“Rebecca texted me the strangest thing last night and it kind of has me worried,” Tony Randolph said.

He and Howard Shaw were standing near the entrance, waiting for their friend Annie Marsten to enter. Annie was running late, and that bothered Tony - Annie never ran late.

However, the main thing on his mind was the text.

“Rebecca?” Howard asked. “You mean Rebecca Winsley? Hottest girl in the school? Nice!”

“I mean Rebecca Winsley, my cousin, you freak. Anyways, just look at this.”

Tony held out his phone, showing a text that simply said “Ghost at the school. Meet me tomorrow morning.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Tony asked.

“Meet her this morning, duh. And bring me with you!”

“You’re such a perv. Besides, don’t you know she’s crazy?”

Howard scoffed.

“Yeah, crazy hot!”

“Whatever. She probably just texted the wrong person.”

All of a sudden, Tony felt a shove in the back.

“Nope! I texted you for a reason, girly boy,” Rebecca said from behind him.

“I told you not to call me that,” Tony snapped.

“And I told you not to wear your hair like that! But you never listen.”

Since sixth grade, Tony had worn his hair long. Really long. By now, in his senior year of high school, it was nearly to his ass. And since sixth grade, Rebecca Winsley had called him girly boy.

“What do you want?”

“You and your nerdy little friends are going to help me catch a ghost after school today!”

At that moment, Howard chimed in. His voice cracked several times and he looked like he was going to pass out his face was so bright red.

“Uh, uh, I’ll help  you catch a ghost, Rebecca!”

Rebecca turned to the boy and smirked, causing him to wither like a flower under a blowtorch.

“Eyes up here, doofus.”

Beyond her being his cousin, Tony didn’t see Rebecca’s appeal. He understood it on an abstract level. She was tall and blonde and buxom. A stereotypical blonde bombshell - with a hearty dose of crazy. Still, he found it silly how every guy in the school seemed to be head over heels for her. He just had a different type.

“I’m sorry Rebecca! It won’t happen again,” Howard begged.

“Relax, weirdo. I was just messing with you,” Rebecca said. “Where’s that little mouse that follows you guys around? She’s the smart one of the bunch.”

“Annie’s running late,” Tony said. “Also, you still haven’t explained this ghost business.”

“Ugh, fine. Susie Lewis saw a shadow in the west hall, second floor. And Mark Driscol heard whispers in the bathroom near the gym. Something weird is going on and I want you guys to help me find it.”

“But why us?” Tony asked. “Why not some of your cheerleading friends or your boyfriend?”

Rebecca’s left eye twitched as Tony said this last part. That was odd. Had she broken up with Marvin Thomas? Tony couldn’t imagine her giving up her pet quarterback without a fight.

“Please,” Rebecca answered. “This is nerd shit. So I came to the experts. You brainiacs are always playing your little role playing games and talking about orcs and zombies and all of that shit. If anyone can help me, it’s you guys. And speaking of brainiacs.”

Rebecca motioned over Tony’s shoulder. Tony turned around and saw Annie Marsten bolting down the hallway, her curly brown hair tied into two braids that fluttered behind her as she ran. In her arms was a cluttered mess of papers, folders, pencils, and rulers.

Tony watched what happened next in slow motion. When Annie was about fifteen feet away from them, her foot landed wrong, causing her to trip and tumble forward. Tony reacted immediately, dashing forward to try and help. He barely caught Annie before she face planted on the ground. Even so, all of the supplies she was holding went flying across the hallway.

Rebecca burst out laughing, eliciting a caustic glare from Tony.

“Annie, are you okay?”
Annie’s eyes fluttered for a second and then she nodded her head yes.

“All thanks to you!”

Annie was beaming at Tony. He loved her smile. Everything good and right lived in that bright, sunny smile.

Annie was nearly the polar opposite of Rebecca Winsley. She had a skinny, boyish body that she often kept hidden under sweaters and oversized button-down shirts. Despite going to public school, Annie’s fashion style was locked on private school uniform. Her face was sweet and open with a button nose and freckled cheeks, but a pair of big, coke-bottle glasses often covered it up.

Still, Tony thought Annie was the prettiest girl in the world. Looking into her deep brown eyes never failed to make him blush a little.

“Here,” Tony said. “Let’s get you up. Howard and Rebecca will clean up all of this stuff.”

“I’ll pass,” Rebecca said. “Be less clumsy this afternoon, mousey. Got it?”

Annie nodded and then looked confused.

“What’s this afternoon?”

“It’s a long story,” Tony said. “I’ll explain in history?”

“Sure thing! I’m sorry about the mess guys. I stayed up late last night trying to get the next session planned. I kind of feel a little dizzy,” Annie said, cradling her head.

“Hey, stop apologizing! I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Will you two lovebirds stop ogling each other and help me clean this crap up?” Howard demanded. “Tony, your cousin is super hot, but she can be a real shit.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony said.

“Wait, why was she here?” Annie asked. “She usually avoids us like the plague.”

“Apparently, we’re going ghost hunting this afternoon.”




The Note Passers

Tony scribbled down the coded message on a ripped piece of paper taken from his notebook, balled it up, dropped it on the floor, and kicked it under Annie’s desk in front of him. The paper ball stopped right before it got to Annie’s right foot before coming to a complete stop. For nearly a minute, Annie let the paper ball sit without acknowledging it. Then she dropped her pencil on the ground by her right foot and snatched up the paper ball when she bent down to pick it up. It would take her another minute to decode the message. All the while, Mr. Abernathy droned on, blissfully unaware his students were skirting his explicit no-note policy.

Like most systems that worked for their little friend group, this one had been crafted by Annie. The girl loved crafting complex systems and solving problems. Tony remembered helping her build a rube goldberg machine in her garage when they were just five years old - faulty wiring had nearly burned down Annie’s house.

With time, Annie had only gotten smarter and her contraptions all the more clever. Tony hadn’t the faintest clue what either he or Howard would do without her.

The message Tony had sent Annie read: “Becca wants ghost hunt. Needs us nerds? Howard in heaven.”

Tony didn’t know what to think about Rebecca’s newest obsession. In a lifetime of being cousins, she had hardly ever paid him any attention. When she did, it was never for a good reason. She liked Tony’s friends even less than him. What was her angle?

He was desperate to get the perspective of someone who wasn’t drooling over Rebecca’s body. Howard could only think with the head downstairs whenever it came to Tony’s cousin.

Howard felt himself growing impatient waiting for Annie’s response. For some reason, he was beginning to feel nervous about this ghost business. Outside, the late October sky looked cold and forlorn. Ever since that morning, something felt off about the world.

So, instead Tony tried listening to the ever dull Mr. Abernathy. The teacher was droning on about nineteenth century railroads. Tony had done the reading for the night before (he always did the reading) and the lecture was just a recap of that information. Still, it was a nice, boring distraction.

“A railroad built at this time might utilize a spike like the one I keep on my desk,” the teacher said, holding up a rusty chunk of metal. “This is constructed of pure iron and was pulled out of the Potomac river ten years ago, back when I was in college. Those were the days. I was ten pounds lighter, could drink all the beer I wanted, could nab any gi--excuse me. Sorry. Where was I?”

Mary reached back to scratch her neck and let her response fall to Tony’s feet. He waited until Mr. Abernathy was scribbling notes on the whiteboard before fishing up the little ball of paper.

The message passing system worked on a simple, left-shift three Caesar cypher. It wasn’t very secure if someone really wanted to break the code, but for simple notes passed in class, it was perfect. Anyone picking up the note would think it was random scribbles and gibberish, but Annie and Tony knew better. After four years and half a dozen classes together, decoding the cypher was easy reading a text message or a street sign for the pair.

Tony decoded the cypher in a couple seconds and read the message.

“Maybe Becca wants to connect? Real ghost? Could be fun.”

There was Annie, ever the optimist. Even when Rebecca called her a mouse and teased her to her face, Annie never lost her cool. She was always friendly and kind to Tony’s cousin and never stopped trying to see the good in her. Then again, she did that with everyone.

Still, something told Tony that after eighteen years, Rebecca Winsley wasn’t trying to build any bridges. Something else was going on.

As for that second question, it seemed ridiculous, but Tony couldn’t shake that strange feeling of dread. The world around him felt cold and malevolent. Was it just nerves, or something else?

Tony quickly scratched out his response.

“Doubt it. Probably a prank. She’s never nice.”

Tony crumpled up the note and flicked it over to Mary like a paper football. For a moment, Mr. Abernathy glanced over, causing Tony to freeze like a statue. Then the professor averted his gaze and continued to drone on about steam engines. That was too close for comfort.

A couple minutes later, Mary’s reply came back.

“Well she should be. U Da Bomb!”

The note came with an adorable little illustration of an anthropomorphic bomb, his eyes big and wet and his fuse sparkling. Tony blushed and tried to stop himself from giggling. God, he loved this girl.

The thought caught him like a slap in the face.

Holy crap, Tony thought. I love her. I love Annie Marsten.

It seemed so natural to love her and that was what made it so frightening. Annie was Tony’s closest friend in the world and with a simple confession, Tony could fundamentally change that - for better or for worse.

Tony spent the next five minutes struggling to come up with something to say. By the end, Annie was giving him the side-eye.

Finally, Tony wrote: “Only because you light my fuse!”

He flicked the paper ball and instantly regretted the message. It was so sappy and weird. And what if Annie suspected something?

When Annie decoded the message, she giggled softly and turned to give Tony a big, cheerful smile.

“Miss Marsten, do you want to share your private conversation with Mr. Randolph with the class?”

Annie recoiled for a moment, turning bright red, but quickly landed back on her feet.

“Actually, Mr. Abernathy, Tony and I were just talking about how later railroads used steel as the process of producing it became cheaper with the industrial revolution.”

“Oh,” Mr. Abernathy said sheepishly. “I suppose that’s true. Good observation, I guess.”

A minute later, Annie’s response dropped at Tony’s feet.

“I guess we both just blew up,” it read.

Tony read the note and grinned like an idiot. He really did love her. It was another thing to worry about, but for the moment, that grim, dreadful feeling in his heart subsided, replaced with a bright, sunny warmth.

Message in the Mirror

Rebecca Winsley found Susie Lewis inspecting herself in the mirror when she entered the bathroom. The pair made eyes contact in the reflection before quickly looking away.

“Hey,” Rebecca said.

“Hi, Rebecca,” Susie said.

The pretty redhead looked like she wanted to be a thousand miles away from this place. Rebecca was getting tired of this crap. She wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“How are things with everyone?” She asked, forcing the subject.

“Fine! Great, really,” Susie squeaked.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes and regarded the girl carefully.

“You don’t seem convinced.”

Since the event, all of her friends had given her the cold shoulder and seemed happy to do so. She had been listening through the grapevine for anything and everything about her and none of what she heard was very good.

It was like all of Rebecca’s friends had decided she was some repulsive freak worthy of equal parts hatred and mockery. She’d heard their snickers and mean comments. It was amazing what a month could do for someone’s place in the social ladder that was high school.

But Susie seemed different. Susie seemed scared.

The girl stared at Rebecca, her mouth opening and closing like a hooked fish yanked to the surface. Then what little resolve she had shattered like glass.

“I think there’s something wrong with them. All of them. They’ve been acting so weird lately. Right after you and Alan--”

Rebecca cringed and shook her head.

“Don’t say his name, please.”

“Right, sorry. Ever since, um, that happened, it’s like they all changed into different people. One after another. They’re all really mean now. To each other. To me. And they hate you.”

“What? Why?” Rebecca said, feeling rage boil to the surface like magma in a volcano. “I didn’t do shit! It was all him!”

“I know,” Susie said quietly. “I know they’re lying about you, but--”

The girl looked at Rebecca with pleading eyes, but found no respite. She had gone along with this little charade and Rebecca wasn’t going to let her off the hook easily.

“But it’s easier to sit back and let them beat up on me? Is that it?”
Susie looked down at her shoes. Tears were forming in her eyes.

“They’re my only friends, Rebecca. I’m afraid.”

“I was your friend too, or have you forgotten, Susie?”

All of a sudden, Susie’s eyes lit up and she stepped forward, coming face-to-face with Rebecca. She looked to be in some middle ground between anger and terror.

“It’s not that simple! They’re scaring me. It’s like they’re possessed or something. I don’t know if it's drugs or something else. The whole group has become one big orgy. Everyone’s screwing everyone else. And they’re doing other things too. I haven’t been invited yet, but I’ve heard them talk about them. It’s really freaky, okay? If I try and leave, I’m afraid of what they’ll do to me.”

“What the fuck?” Rebecca muttered. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“If it is, I’m not in on it. Oh God, if they see me talking to you, I’m done for. They really hate you, Rebecca. It’s pretty much all they ever talk about. Watch your back, I think they’re planning something.”

Rebecca cradled her head and began to pace around the room. She could feel her pulse pounding in her temple. Her whole body shook as her anxiety skyrocketed. Her eyes burned and she knew tears were on their way, but goddamnit, she had dignity. She wasn’t going to cry in school.

“Why do they hate me? He’s the one who cheated! They all know it, too.”

Rebecca’s panic attack was suddenly interrupted by a loud croaking noise. She turned around immediately and what she saw flummoxed her.

Susie was pressed up against the mirror, her body convulsing as what looked like a fine, pale mist surrounded her. For several seconds, Rebecca watched in horror, paralyzed and unable to react.

Finally, after a gut wrenching length of time, Susie stumbled backwards from the mirror. Rebecca snapped into focus and grabbed her friend, steadying her.

However, the moment Rebecca touched Susie, she received a nasty surprise. The redhead seized Rebecca and slammed her into the nearest wall. The force was hard enough to make Rebecca see stars.

Susie Lewis had an unnatural purple glow to her eyes and an rictus grin on her face. She didn’t even look like the same person.
“You’re hotter in person, Rebecca!” Susie leered, her voice now deep and gravelly. “So perky and nubile!”

“What the fuck?”

Rebecca struggled against Susie’s grip, but it was useless. The girl who hadn’t worked out a day in her life was suddenly as strong as the hulk.

“Let’s get a little taste of you, shall we?”

Susie lunged forward and forced Rebecca into a sloppy, wet kiss. Rebecca could feel the girl’s tongue writhe across her cheek like a giant slug, but there was nothing she could do. She was powerless against the girl.

“You taste even better than I expected! You’re going to be fun to corrupt!” Susie cried, triumphantly. “Now let’s get a look at the goods.”

The redhead reached out and grabbed Rebecca’s breasts, squeezing them like two water balloons. The pain made her want to scream, but terror kept her silent.

“These are already so nice and big! Perky too! I can’t wait to see what my essence will do to them.”

That was it. Something inside Rebecca snapped. Without thinking, she headbutted Susie with as much force as she could muster. Her skull collided with Susie’s nose with a sickening crunch, sending the girl flying backwards.

“I see it now. This is another cruel fucking practical joke. Bitch, I’m going to kick your fucking ass!” Rebecca screamed, readying for a brawl.

Instead, the light in Susie’s eyes faded and she began to giggle like a maniac. A trickle of blood was running from her right nostril, but she hardly seemed to notice.

The girl bounced to her feet, eyed Rebecca, and then giggled even harder. Before Rebecca could react, the girl had skipped out of the bathroom, leaving her alone.

“Weirdo bitch,” Rebecca muttered. “What a bullshit prank.”

However, as Rebecca’s gaze landed on the bathroom mirror, her blood ran cold. Just when the situation could not get any weirder, it did.

The mirror had fogged up like a shower was running inside the bathroom. As Rebecca watched, the condensation cleared away in sections as if someone were writing in it with their finger. As the message formed, Rebecca’s terror mounted.

The message read: See you soon, Rebecca Winsley.

The Great Ghost Hunt