One thing that’s always confused me, the counterfactual view of Private Investigators. We’re not classically-dressed men, clad in heavy trench coats and fedoras. We do not commonly solve murder mysteries, most of the time it’s rich people wanting to catch their spouses cheating. Although, I’ve known to do a few other odd jobs, search and rescue and protection, to be exact. And wouldn’t you know it, my most recent, and certainly strangest, job happened to be in protection.
It’s still going on, of course, and I have a feeling I haven’t begun to reach the tip of the iceberg.
It started on a drab, dull, and chilly September day, the third. I had just gotten done with a highly typical “I think my wife is cheating!” job, and to sum up a long story, …show more content…
To sum it up, she was hearing noises inside her house, finding some things messed up, et cetera. Generic, cliche, low-budget horror-movie esque things, but hey, I’d only be there for a week at most, and it paid well.)
And I was off, bulletproof vest in one hand, camera in the other, and a Beretta M9 on my hip. Combined with my white skin, I looked like a wanna-be gangster, so I made the wise move and placed the vest in the under the seat, covered by a blanket, and cloaked the pistol under a heavy sweatshirt. I leapt into my old Ford, and stepped on the gas. After an uneventful 30 minute drive, I sat face-to-face with her house. A two-story, very common house that had no defining features from the nearly identical ones sitting beside it. I walked out, careful to keep my vest hidden under the …show more content…
“Hey, Amanda, you sure I need to be here?” I inquired, in a tone only describable as monotone
“No,” She insisted, a look of fear stained into her face that I never bothered to ask about.
Night three is when things began to get strange. Aside from the fact I called a friend over to make it looked like I was present inside my house to prevent burglaries, I started hearing the noises. They came at night, scratching coming from inside the walls, ghastly chattering, as if something was attempting to speak, but only had its teeth to do the talking.
I was scared shitless. I’m not going to claim to be a hard-ass, I was used to gunfire, and even brushed shoulders with death a few times, but never had any run-ins with the paranormal.
In the morning, I asked to do a search of the house. The results? Nothing substantial, not a fingerprint on the property. I checked the tapes, best I could come up with was an unexplainable shape on the thermal imaging. A humanoid shape, cooler than its surroundings. It was always near the noises. I never told her about it, I figured that, with how scared she was, she wouldn’t be able to handle
It’s still going on, of course, and I have a feeling I haven’t begun to reach the tip of the iceberg.
It started on a drab, dull, and chilly September day, the third. I had just gotten done with a highly typical “I think my wife is cheating!” job, and to sum up a long story, …show more content…
To sum it up, she was hearing noises inside her house, finding some things messed up, et cetera. Generic, cliche, low-budget horror-movie esque things, but hey, I’d only be there for a week at most, and it paid well.)
And I was off, bulletproof vest in one hand, camera in the other, and a Beretta M9 on my hip. Combined with my white skin, I looked like a wanna-be gangster, so I made the wise move and placed the vest in the under the seat, covered by a blanket, and cloaked the pistol under a heavy sweatshirt. I leapt into my old Ford, and stepped on the gas. After an uneventful 30 minute drive, I sat face-to-face with her house. A two-story, very common house that had no defining features from the nearly identical ones sitting beside it. I walked out, careful to keep my vest hidden under the …show more content…
“Hey, Amanda, you sure I need to be here?” I inquired, in a tone only describable as monotone
“No,” She insisted, a look of fear stained into her face that I never bothered to ask about.
Night three is when things began to get strange. Aside from the fact I called a friend over to make it looked like I was present inside my house to prevent burglaries, I started hearing the noises. They came at night, scratching coming from inside the walls, ghastly chattering, as if something was attempting to speak, but only had its teeth to do the talking.
I was scared shitless. I’m not going to claim to be a hard-ass, I was used to gunfire, and even brushed shoulders with death a few times, but never had any run-ins with the paranormal.
In the morning, I asked to do a search of the house. The results? Nothing substantial, not a fingerprint on the property. I checked the tapes, best I could come up with was an unexplainable shape on the thermal imaging. A humanoid shape, cooler than its surroundings. It was always near the noises. I never told her about it, I figured that, with how scared she was, she wouldn’t be able to handle