Revista (eBook)

SPOOKED

Supernatural Solutions. S.S. Sure, it’s got that unfortunate Gestapo connection but hey, when did the bad guys bag exclusive rights on cool tags? We’re the go-to guys when it comes to the paranormal. That’s our turf.

We operate on the other side but base the business in Adelaide: land of churches, psycho killers and kiddie fiddlers. I’m the boss, Bradley, everybody calls me Brad. Started up S.S just before COVID 23 hit. Got lucky. You have to occasionally. Right place, right time, just like the bloody virus, who’d have predicted that?

I had a lawn mowing round before S.S. - Mr. Clip, and a mini-bin franchise preceding - Hop Skip & Dump. Was considering a move to Pests R Us for a bit prior to firing up S.S. Glad I didn’t. Business is booming in the undead end game. COVID 23 wiped out a quarter of the population in 2025, so there’s plenty of disgruntled deceased about. Everyone wants their unsettling spooky events sorted out quick smart and that means there’s plenty of work available if you’re prepared to cop the late hours. Most of them are between midnight and dawn. That’s when the creepies like to come out. Once the ghoul or ghouls responsible are located and confronted, they’re usually not in high spirits; we don’t come across many meek and mild manifestations anymore. Most are permanently peeved; they’re always pissed off about something. Can’t seem to settle in the afterlife - we’ve heard it hundreds of times here at S.S. It’s become the new standard in predictable spectral behaviour. There’s always some issue that’s remained unresolved post-mortem. There’s no spook I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a few, that hasn’t had a ghostly grievance or two that he or she or it can’t seem to get over and will not leave alone. That attitude is precisely what’s preventing the whining whingers from moving on. Stuck in the past. They really do, in my view, need to let go, but then we’d be out of a job, right?

Speaking of, we go all over this state and will go inter if required. Example? Last week we had a case over the border, Kaniva. Phantasm extraction from the old post office. Acutely unhappy late ex-customer messing with the mail. Re-arranging, overnight, all the letters that’d been sorted during the day. Leaving a fair bit of ectoplasm splashed about too, smudging quite a few addresses - P.O. staff having to sort it all over again, as best they could with what they had to go on. Postmasters brief: ‘That ghost has to go ASAP, Bradley. It’s too much. That’s fucking with Australia Post. It’s simply not on’. Agreed.

Once we’d tracked the culprit down, we were able to obtain a confession without too much effort being expended. It’s not a well-known fact, but most apparitions crack easily under interrogation. They’ve very little staying power; got to disappear at dawn, obviously, so, creatures of the night they may be but that’s alright; so are we. You’ve got them until sun-up, then they’re out of there pronto. Try stopping them in broad daylight and see how you go. No chance. They’re not particularly inventive, ghosts. They tend to stick to the same old tricks.

Let me introduce you to the rest of the S.S. team.

Team member two: Tech Tony Glavnic. Boy genius. There’s a lot of sophisticated gear needed in our business - motion-detectors, air-pressure gauges, vibration alerts, odour sensors, ultra-sensitive microphones, infra-red cameras, computers, hard-drives, back-ups, pre-amps – and volt throwers - it’s a shit load of gear and it packs out the back of our Volkswagen Transporter van. Without a good tech you’re in big trouble. Tony’s one of the best. Ex ABC. He knows how to operate all that stuff and he knows how to fix it when it breaks down. We’d be fucked without our Tone.

We’d also be fucked without Team member three: Elisabeth Harding-Sackville. Posh. St. Peters Girl. Project Manager. She’s the one that goes on site. Meets – greets – chats - appraises the supernatural situation, proposes the best solution, submits the correct quote. It’s worth mentioning that she’s only doing this gig, and part-timer’s as a swimwear and lingerie model, to pay her way through University. She’s doing a double degree in molecular biology and comparative chemistry. Those facts look great on the Team bio, as does her photograph.

Team member four - Mikey Z. Real name Michalis Zepoulos. Mikey Z does everything Elisabeth, Tony or I don’t, which can be quite a lot. Also drives the VW Transporter.

So that’s the team.

Here’s some intel on the Supernatural Solutions HQ.

For me, there was never any doubt as to where we should be located. Adelaide Arcade, built 1885. Oldest available office space in this city. It runs between Grenfell Street and Rundle Mall. One of the first joints in this town to go electric. And it’s officially haunted. We’d checked it out, obviously, came up empty but kept the results quiet. Check out these pair of crackers. One: In 1887, Francis Cluney, resident caretaker, got his head caught up and mutilated in the building’s electricity generator. Nasty. Two: Florence Horton was shot three times in the back by estranged husband Thomas in 1904. She was carried into shop 50 and there she died and haunted by her said to have been ever since. Not by us, of course, we’ve looked into that incident as well and it’s all a crock, but as I’ve said, there’s no need to go about ruining a perfectly good rumour. S.S. is located on the upper floor. 47 of 50.

A little after ten in the morning she walks in. I’d just been invoicing our latest successfully concluded case, the Port Pirie Poltergeist, a particularly nasty nuisance that’d been playing funny buggers in the pub cellar with beer lines and generally wreaking havoc, as ghosts tend to. As I’ve mentioned - predictable. Publican George Curley wanted it out. They always do. If you know what you’re doing, and we do, it’s a cinch to give them the heave ho. The Supernatural nasty identified – the appropriate Solution then applied - file under case closed - invoice attached – client happy. Looks like there’s another prospective one standing in front of me now. Early thirties? Mid, maybe. Not unattractive. Long mousey hair in a pigtail poking through the back of her Buddha Happy baseball cap. Active Wear everywhere: Nike Air-Zoom sneakers, Desert Storm tights, Rock Wear tagged tank-top. I’m impressed.

‘Good morning’ she says, and hands me a card. Greta Warne, The Joyful Path Yoga and Self-care Retreat. 102 Ocean Road, Victor Harbour. I know it well. The old Governor’s summer residence, Whitmore House. Victorian double story, built 1891, on twenty acres of land. Olive groves, orchard, pool. Gently sloping coastwards. Lovely view of Encounter Bay, only three kilometres away, from the tower. Cops a very nice late afternoon sea-breeze.

‘Nice to meet you, Greta’ says I, ‘I’m Bradley. Call me Brad. Take a seat. Cup of tea?’

‘No thanks, Brad’ she replies, but takes that seat.

‘What can we do for you, Greta?’

‘We’ve got a ghost’

‘Not unusual, these days. Friendly, is it? Or hostile?’

‘I’d say hostile, from what I’ve been told’

‘So, you haven’t actually seen it yourself, Greta?’

‘Not me personally, Brad. Quite a few of the guests have, and staff’

‘Manifesting as male? Or female? Or didn’t say?’

‘Definitely male’

‘How long has this been going on, Greta?’

‘Ever since we moved in, say six months ago’

‘And how often does the spook appear?’

‘Off and on’

‘You’ve waited this long to contact us?’

‘I was hoping he’d just go away’

‘They never go unless you push them, Greta. They come with the house. Spooks like to stay put. Not all that adventurous, ghosts. Real stay-at-homers. You can read them like a book’

‘The letting agent never said anything about a ghost’

‘They never do, Greta, take it from me'

‘Well, he’s got to go, Brad. He’s freaking out the guests, the news is spreading that we’re haunted. It’s a bad vibe all round. Bookings are dropping off fast. Cancellations are pouring in. At this rate there’ll be none this time next week and we’ll go bust. We’re supposed to be a peaceful holistic healing retreat, not a haunted house that’ll give you the screaming horrors for years to come. If he’s not gone soon, we’ll have to shut down. It been hard enough with COVID 23, let alone having a spook hanging around. Can you do it?’

‘Guaranteed, Greta. We’re the best in the business’

‘When would you be able to start?’

‘Not until toward the end of next week, Greta’ says I, scanning my S.S. desktop calendar.

‘No earlier? He’s causing a real problem, Brad’

...