Free Hauntings by Lewis Stanek

Theadora?” He paused, took another long deep breath, then continued.
                  “Baron, are you here? Can you speak to us?” Heinrich waited for a reply. Randal felt rather than saw the ectoplasm forming in the shadows. Unease gripped at his entrails, he closed his eyes. The smell of cordite wafted in his nostrils, the sound of small arms and mortar fire echoed in his ears. Randal opened his eyes, flickering light of the fire welcomed him back to Theadora's private parlor.
                  “Baron, can you hear us?” Heinrich repeated somberly. “Baron Frederick, are you here? If you can hear me, let me know. Show us a sign of your presence.” Heinrich pleaded into the darkness.
                  The parlor door slammed shut with a bang, Bridget let out a little shriek of surprise, Ozzie's mouth hung open as he gaped at the door.
                  “There must be a draft.” Randal commented.
                  “Baron, is there something you want to tell us?” Heinrich continued ignoring Randal's disbelief.
                  “I'm so cold.” Bridget whispered shivering.
                  “I can see your breath.” Ozzie whispered.
                  “Could this must be one of those cold spots they talk about in old ghost stories?.” Randal questioned, not expecting a reply.
                  “Baron Frederick, do you want to communicate with us? Can you move the planchette?” Heinrich intoned. Whoosh the planchette flew from the table and hit the mirror above the fireplace cracking the glass.
                  “Damn!” Randal muttered.
                  “The baron is here, I can feel his presence” Heinrich was saying when Bridget yelled out.
                  “Look at that! In the mirror, look!” A deep gray figure moved from the depths mirror forward towards the parlor, this parlor. Randal didn't believe his eyes, then it slowly oozed out from the cracks in the mirror then floated towards the table. Randal stood up, breaking the physical connection with his companions.
                  “Sit down Randal! Don't disturb the spirits.” Heinrich commanded. Before Randal could move the table began to rock on two legs tapping out a strange dance. Randal feeling his heart rise in his chest, backed away from the table.
                  “The baron is here, Baron Frederick, is there something you wish to say?” Heinrich implored above the din of the pounding table.
                  “No shit Sherlock, he is telling us to get the hell out of his house!” Ozzie yelled backing away from the table pressing his back against the wall getting as far from the table as he could get while yet remaining in the parlor. Only Bridget and Heinrich remained in their chairs.
                  “Don't be frightened gentlemen, The baron means us no harm. In fact I think he is welcoming us into his home as guests.” Heinrich said attempting to sooth his young friends fears. Ozzie went to the door grabbed the doorknob and pulled, a gap between the door and frame appeared and let a little warmth seep into the room, but the doorknob slipped from his hand and the door slammed shut.
                  “Come back to you seat, Ozzie. He is not going to hurt you.”  Ozzie reluctantly shuffled back to his chair keeping his eyes on the table as it continued rock back and forth tapping out no particular rhythm. He gingerly eased himself down on his chair as if he expected it to bite him in the ass.
                  “you too Randal, there is no point in standing there when you have a comfortable chair waiting for you.” Randal sat down and folded his hands in his lap.
                  “Now everyone, firmly place your hands on the table palms down and push, put your weight into it, hold it to the floor.” Heinrich