The tour continued on after a few more questions were thrown at the guide. Most of them were about me, but the guide insisted that they should continue with the tour and the questions should wait until we got to my part of it. I floated after them, drifting in and out of full awareness. This was normal for spirits.

The Living had life energy itself to keep them running, but ghosts didn’t. Our energy had to either be gained from sucking it out of anything that let out some sort of energy or even the Living themselves. I might be an oddity in the fact that I did let off some energy on my own and I was much more powerful because of it. But I experienced the same types of exhaustion, for lack of a better word, that other ghosts did.

I came back to full awareness as the tour came to the room that I had breathed my last in. The bedroom was welcoming, comfortable, and bright—the exact opposite of how I remembered it from my own time among the Living. I always felt uneasy inside this room, but the fear the room brought to the surface of my mind was faint right now. That wasn’t always the case, of course, but—

“Now, we’re at the most popular part of our tour, because of how recent these events were.” The guide cleared his throat as he moved further into the bedroom, allowing everyone else to do the same. They had to wait for a few more seconds before the cameramen were positioned how they wanted to be. Once everything was all clear, the guide continued.

He moved to stand on the right side of the large bed, the soft cream-colored blankets a stark contrast to the dark green wallpaper. His voice grew a bit more solemn as he began the explanation that many people specifically came here for.

“Three years ago, in 2014, this bedroom was the site of a horrible tragedy. Adria Finn, twenty-six at the time, was kidnapped by a man who is suspected to be a serial killer, possibly responsible for the deaths of nearly fifteen women.” The guide shifted, raising his gaze from staring down at the bed, to look the audience in the eyes. “Thomas Hemming and his family had been gone for a four-day weekend out to Hawaii. They had security cameras all throughout the house because Thomas was very obsessed with capturing the ghosts of his siblings on tape to show the rest of the world and prove life after death. It’s one of the reasons why so many paranormal investigators are allowed to come and go from this place.”

Realizing he was starting to get off-track, the guide shook his head and returned to the topic at hand. “Anyway, the house was empty for those four days. During that time, Ross Albon, suspected serial killer, kidnapped Adria and broke into the Hemming House. The security cameras captured the sexual, physical, and mental torture Adria was subjected to before dying. But her spirit wasn’t completely broken during these events. She managed to get hold of a broken piece of glass and waited for her moment to strike. During one of Ross’ attacks on her person, she stabbed him repeatedly with the glass. He retaliated by strangling her, breaking her windpipe. But Ross did expire by bleeding out from the twenty-three stab wounds he’d sustained before killing Adria.”

The group grew completely still. The news had talked about and analyzed the story of the Hemming House Murder many times after our bodies were discovered by the Hemming family upon returning home. But there was a vast difference in hearing about it through a television screen and standing in the very room such events had taken place in.

As those thoughts swirled in my mind, the pull of those events dragged me down from the ceiling. I felt the Echo, the repeat of parts of my life swell. Caught under the wave, I spoke, calling out for the help that had never come.

“Help...Help me, please.”

Several people’s heads whipped around in startled fright, even one of the cameramen.

“Was that a woman crying?” someone asked in amazement.

“I heard it too! She was crying really faintly. I couldn’t make out any words,” another chimed in.

“Full-spectrum camera! Get the camera, Matt!” The brunette with the ponytail snapped. Her words gave away that she was one of the ghost hunters. One of the cameramen rushed forward, pulling out a camera from the bag slung around his shoulder. The woman snatched it from his hands, rapidly taking photos of the entire room with a machine-gun of a finger.

Not wishing to potentially wake and attract Ross to the innocent tourist, I slowly left the room. I felt completely drained. I needed to recharge.

While heading to the parlor to take the spirit portal, I saw the oldest daughter of Thomas Hemming, Erica. She was the manager of the Hemming House, which had been turned into a sort of museum. The Hemming family still lived on the property, though. They had constructed a smaller home in the back of the property. While smaller, it was still big enough for six members of the family to live in. From what I understood, the younger two of Thomas' children had moved out years ago and lived with their own families. Erica and her children were the only ones who lived here now, along with Erica’s father and mother.

None of them had felt comfortable living inside the home after Ross and my deaths. Mostly because Ross was very active during the night time. When the oldest of Erica’s daughters—who had been at thirteen at the time—felt hands running along her thighs and stomach one night, the whole family had decided Ross’ spirit was too dangerous. Before that incident, everyone in the house had been scratched, touched, slapped, and Thomas had also gained a few small burns as well. Ross really hated other men.

I didn’t blame any of them for leaving to another part of the property, though I was a bit surprised they didn’t just go somewhere else entirely. Their attachment to the house must have been too strong to bring themselves to leave it behind.

In the hallway, heading directly towards where I was paused in the middle of the walkway, Erica smiled. “Is that you, Adria?” she called out.

I stayed quiet, wondering if she had seen me. But she answered my internal question even without me asking.

“I felt your presence, it’s why I asked. I heard things got a bit heated with the last investigation that came through. You respected them, didn’t you?” she asked a bit more stern with her tone.

I reluctantly decided to answer her. Focusing all my energy into my voice, I spoke, hoping it would reach her clearly. “Yes...Sorry. Ross was mean.”

She was quiet for a few seconds, her soft brown eyes narrow with concentration. “Ross, you said?” she bit her lip, looking nervous and a little angry. “I figured as much. We cleanse the house regularly, but he never leaves…” She sighed heavily, sounding weary all the way down to her soul. “But I suppose you must feel the most awful about the situation. I always wonder what it must be like for you.”

“Tired...Bye, Erica,” I whispered. Even more of my energy drained and I exhaled a long sigh of my own.

She frowned, looking sad. “Alright. I’ll see you again, Adria.”

Was it strange that I could hold something close to a normal conversation with a one of Living? I had always found it strange. But Erica was very accepting of my presence in the house. She’d been the first one to find the bodies of Ross and I. Perhaps that had something to do with the connection she had with me. She could hear me more clearly than most others without the help of gadgets designed to pick up my voice.

Reaching the portal after floating by Erica, I passed through the wall. Doing so brought me up to the attic, a mere twelve feet from my normal haunt. As I began to rest, the last thought that ran across my mind was what might happen with this new investigation happening soon.

I couldn’t help but be curious.