Chapter 4 The Devil's Hour

Three in morning is commonly known as the Devil's Hour; a time when spirits and demons are at their most active and this morning they did not disappoint.

At exactly 3:07 am and 16 seconds both are night vision camera and electronic record ding devices picked up a rare simultaneous paranormal action. On camera a fine white mist developed over our cook top---could it be a the ghost of flour tossed in the air? I say flour because of the simultaneous evp recorded; an evp that terrified the entire team: "add flour" "add flour".

At exactly 3:11 am and 19 seconds as the team was was climbing stairs to a catwalk; the entire team, and I stress that everyone was accounted for; heard a disembodied scream "Where's the Risotto!" coming from the space directly below them. This scream was heard by all but since all our recorders malfunctioned at that same time, we were unable to record it and we knew this to definitely be be paranormal.

At 3:23 am and 47 seconds we picked up the strong smell of bacon cooking. The smell was traced just inside a doorway where there was a vacant room. Could this room have housed a kitchen or a hotplate in its past?

As we trudged on I decided to go for broke. I unpacked a small gas powered hibachi. My plan was to use this cookware as a trigger object to draw the hauntings directly to me. This was a gamble of sorts, but a gamble that soon paid off.

As I had finished preparing the salad course, prepping for the main course, I and my camera man distinctly heard a voice. This voice was followed by a dart shadow like figure running past the basket of pimento loaf. The voice, or should I say the entity, quickly established itself as intelligent: "Where's the potatoes?" "Wheres the potatoes?"

Just think how unjust it must be for a spirit to be caught between the world of the living and eternal rest; to be locked into a sort of limbo because a last request or a want has gone unsatisfied.

We not only study ghosts but we help where we can to send them toward the light. It was at that moment that I decided to cleanse this building of at least one spirit. I quickly dug into my cooler pulling out a hand full of sweet potatoes in effort to whip up a souffle.

Twelve minutes and sixteen seconds later; we distinctly heard a loud and angry disembodied yell that came not five feet from me "I wanted russets!"

In an undisclosed location; a location we are sworn not to divulge, the dead both appear and speak in an eternal struggle between our world and that of salvation.

The End.