The Haunting of Roan Mountain Page 3

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

  She shot me an ‘I told you so, asshole’ look as she handed me a glass of tea.

  “Okay, where in the house is it the worst?”

  She casually sat down on the couch and sipped her tea. “It seems to be the worst in the bedroom. I don’t even sleep back there anymore. But I don’t feel comfortable anywhere in here, if that is what you’re asking. This room is tolerable, I guess.” She motioned to the pile of blankets and pillows on the couch.

  “Okay, what about the loft?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Who knows? I haven’t had the nerve to go up there since I moved in.”

  “Do you mind if I have a walk through the place? I’m not going to go too deep. I just wanna see what I can feel in the different rooms.”

  “You’re the expert,” she said with a smile. “Have your way with the place.”

  With some trepidation, I stood up and began to walk through the house.

  The bedroom was stark and plain., containing only a queen sized bed and a pair of old dressers. It reminded me of a hotel room when you first check in. Furnished but empty of anything resembling a life. I walked over to the half-open closet. Inside, a pile of folded blankets sat alone on a shelf. There were no clothes, no jackets, not even a box of knickknacks.

  More concerning to me was the fact that Melanie claimed that room seemed to be the center point for the activity, and I was not feeling much of anything. I decided to make my way back to the main room. Melanie was sitting on the edge of the couch, nervously swirling the ice around her glass of tea and staring off into space. When I approached, she blinked and jumped slightly.

  “So, is it hopeless?” she asked.

  “None of this is hopeless. I’ve been in places far darker than this, and once we figured out what was going on, they became as peaceful as any other home. But we do need to figure it out.” I sat down on the couch with her. “Listen Melanie…”

  “You won’t ever call me Mel like everyone else, will you?” she interjected.

  “I never have. Just because I haven’t talked to you in forever doesn’t mean I’m starting from scratch. You are still Melanie to me.” A slight smile crept onto my face.

  “You always were a little different,” she said now, looking almost cheerful. “Look David. I’m sorry I never tried to keep in touch. Austin would have killed me. Still I should’ve reached out to you. Anyway, I am sorry. I’m very glad you came out here today. It means a lot to me.”

  “I’m glad you called,” I said uncomfortably. “I hope I can help you out in some way.”

  As I looked at her, I was pleased to see that she had finally let her guard down. She appeared so vulnerable, her big green eyes staring at me with so much hope. It really reminded me of the Melanie I knew so long ago.

  “I think it would be good for me to spend some time here on my own,” I said. “Any chance I can come back here tomorrow while you’re at work or something?”

  “Yeah, I’ll throw a key under the mat,” she said with a smile. “But let me know what you’re up to. I don’t think I could handle walking in on one of your creepy investigations.”

  3

  Later that night, I was sitting on my couch, staring idly at my laptop, my mind elsewhere. Melanie had gotten into my head in a bad way. This was highly unlike me. Sure, there had been women in my life... women who had typically ended up being second on my list of priorities behind my work and research. However, there was something about Melanie. She was the one person I could imagine becoming my priority.

  It really wasn’t a surprise; it was simply frightening. Truth was that I had always been like this with her. She was that girl that I had always been close to but never had the guts to ask out. I stood idly by, safe within the friend zone, as she dated boy after boy. Then came Austin, the self-proclaimed guitar prodigy who stole her heart. When they got married, we went our separate ways. I thought we had moved on forever. But after seeing her, I’d realized I hadn’t moved on so much as I had simply ignored anything I felt for her.

  I resisted the urge to dig out my old high school yearbook just to read the note she’d written me. I needed to clear my head. I decided to focus on researching the house. The first thing I needed to do was to figure out when the cabin had been built and look through police reports and newspapers for anything that might have happened on the property. If that failed to yield any clues, I would have to research the history of the land where the house now stood. This was always a last resort as records that far back were usually scattered at best.

  From what I could tell, Melanie’s cabin was built in 1915, along with two other neighboring cabins and a small barn. It changed hands a few times up until 1956 when it had been purchased by a man who’d owned and operated the property until fairly recently. If I could track down anyone from that family, they would likely be a great resource. The big downside of the property was the fact that for most of its life it had been a vacation rental. Much like hotels, places like that could held an immense amount of residual energy, making it impossible to pinpoint. The story changed from day to day, week to week, with every new patron.

  A standard house was pretty easy. I only needed to follow the history and the stories of the people that lived there. Sure, there were always good and bad times, but the happenings that led to strong energies were pretty easy to spot. An asshole wife-beating husband, or a kid that tragically died, or whatever. But with a property like Melanie’s, the story and the people were constantly changing. There could have been a murder committed by an out of towner who covered his tracks well, and that would never appear in any newspaper.

  As I thought about it, there was one other hurdle I saw in researching this case...its location. To some degree, Roan Mountain was a typical small mountain town. Like most small towns, Roan had a very insulated feel, and towns like this tended to be guarded when it came to historical research. Here in Erwin, I could go to the library, the police station, just about anywhere and easily get help from almost anyone, but I had grown up here. Roan… well, Roan, despite how much time I’d spent there, I was an outsider. I was sure that my new found fame would just add to the town’s trepidation in assisting me. There would be the constant fear that I was trying to exploit them for my show.

  I sat and thought about where I would start. I knew I had to go to the house tomorrow. Hopefully with Melanie not there, I would be able to focus and get a better feel for the place. Beyond that, I was really not sure. I had to get Linda involved. Along with her unique abilities in the field of spiritualism, she was the best resource for small town gossip. Unlike Sue Ellen at the Post Office, Linda didn’t share gossip freely, but she absorbed everything. She shared only what she needed to in order to keep everyone else sharing.

  I decided to get ready for tomorrow’s visit. I went to my closet and pulled out a large plastic case and tossed it on my bed. Unlocking the hinges, I pulled it open and took a look at the contents. My old investigation equipment, secured tightly in foam. I’d never been one to rely on equipment for my research. For me, it was all about what I felt, and backing up those feelings with historical information. However, sometimes I found my feelings to be too easily manipulated, so the equipment helped to back them up.

  My rig was pretty simple compared to what I used on TV. I had an EMF meter, a few digital recorders, and a thermal imager. TV.... well that was TV. It wasn’t about the history or what I felt. It was all about what we could show the audience as proof. This simple setup was all I needed for Melanie’s place.

  I inspected the equipment, changed batteries, and made sure everything was ready for tomorrow.

  The next morning, I arrived at Melanie's house. It was still early, but the sun was shining brightly on the face of the cabin. I walked up to the porch and found the key under the mat along with a Ziploc bag with a piece of paper in it. I opened the bag and took out the paper.

  David,

  Thank you again for coming
out. I really appreciate your help. Send me a text so I know you made it in okay.

  - Mel

  The attention from Melanie brought a smile to my face. I folded the note and put it in my pocket. Once I was inside the cabin, I texted Melanie as she’d requested.

  The cabin was still cool from the night. Everything was silent and still. As I strolled deeper into the house, I realized it looked exactly as it had when I’d left the previous night. That wasn’t surprising except for the fact that Melanie lived there. The blankets were still folded near the couch. In the sink were the two glasses we’d used for tea but nothing else. It felt almost as if she’d left the house minutes after I had.

  I set my case on the couch and began to unpack it. I took out the digital recorders and started setting them up. I put one in the bedroom, one in the loft, and one on the kitchen counter. Those three would be able to cover the entire house. I got out a clipboard with a notepad on it. I took off my watch and clipped it to the board so I would have a constant visual of it and began to note the time. The most important thing, especially with the audio recordings, was to log everything I did and the exact time. If I walked across the room, I had to note it. If I sneezed, I had to note it. If I didn’t, it would be impossible to review the audio recordings and make a distinction between subtle noises I’d made versus something else.

  I got my thermal imager and slowly walked through the house, taking a cursory scan and logging the time and temperature of each area. I wanted a baseline to compare any anomalies with later. Finally, I did the same with the EMF meter. The process took about an hour, and during that time I didn’t see any reading that caused me any concern. With my baselines complete, I could focus on the energy I felt in the house itself.

  It was proving to be more difficult than ever. In most cases, I never had to focus. I didn’t have to work at feeling things at all. I just felt them. It wasn’t that I couldn’t feel them now. It was more that I was thinking about Melanie. I couldn’t clear thoughts of her out of my head enough to feel the house. After sitting on the couch for a few minutes, I got fed up. I logged my departure on the clipboard and walked straight to my truck. I opened the glove box and started going through the mess of its contents before pulling out an old smashed box of cigarettes.

  I hadn’t smoked in at least a year, but I needed something to clear my head. As I lit the cigarette and inhaled the stale smoke, I burst into a fit of coughing. I immediately felt a chill come over my body, while hot streams of sweat ran down my forehead. It was clear that my body had moved on from smoking despite my assumption that it would help me relax. I started to walk around the property, puffing but trying not to inhale the smoke.

  The cabin sat nestled in between two identical cabins. The others were a decent distance away but still visible through the trees. The cabin closest to the main road appeared to be empty. There was no ‘For Sale’ sign to indicate it was available, but the gravel drive was becoming grown over from disuse, leaving the cabin looking forgotten with its curtains drawn tight. I made my way back to the main drive and threw out the cigarette. I walked past Melanie’s cabin toward the third when a voice stopped me.

  “Whatcha lookin’ for there, buddy?” the voice asked in a less than friendly tone.

  It took me a moment to place where the voice was coming from until I saw the rocking chair on the porch of the third cabin.

  “Sorry, I was just having a look around,” I replied.

  “Yeah, well the trail and shelters are up the road a piece. This is all private property!”

  Despite the warning, I kept walking towards the third cabin.

  “Nah, I’m a friend of Melanie’s. She asked me to take a look at her place for her.” I hoped my calm tone would appease the stranger.

  I turned the corner to get a clear view of the cabin unobstructed by the trees. The cabin was an identical twin to Melanie’s. The rocking chair on the front porch was occupied by a younger man wearing a white tank top and jeans. He had shaggy brown hair, and it looked like it had been a few days since his last shower. There was a blue Igloo cooler next to the rocking chair, a much more comforting sight than a shotgun sitting on his lap, which I’d expected. I raised my hands in a feeble attempt to show that I meant no intrusion.

  “Can’t say I know any Melanie. Then again, I can’t say anyone has been all that neighborly here,” he said in a much calmer voice. “I’ve actually never met anyone living down here.” He stood up and opened up the cooler, retrieving a beer, and walked to the porch’s railing. “I s’pose since you’re the closest thing I have seen to neighbors, I best give you a beer.” He held out the wet can.

  “I certainly appreciate it,” I said with a sigh of relief.

  I walked forward the final few steps, reaching out my hand to accept the beer.

  “Name’s Zeke,” he said as I took the beer.

  “David,” I replied.

  “Who did you say lived there? Melanie? I haven’t seen anyone up there except an older guy.”

  “Well, I know Melanie bought the place about six months back. I guess I’m not the one to comment on the company she keeps.” I opened the beer and took a swallow.

  “If you don’t mind me askin’, what exactly are you doing at the place then?” he asked with a suspicious tone returning in his voice.

  I cursed myself for not knowing how to answer. It wasn’t like I could say I was hunting ghosts.

  “Aw well, nothing really. She was having trouble with her window getting stuck and asked me to swing by and help free it up.” I hoped he didn’t catch me looking at his open windows for inspiration. “Kinda curious though, what do you know about this old guy over there?” I asked both out of genuine interest as well as to change the subject.

  “I don’t really know anything. Like I said, I haven’t exactly met anyone out here except hikers looking for a place to sleep. Just saw him a few times in the upstairs window as I drove by is all.” He raised his beer to take a sip and stopped just before the can touched his lips. His hazel eyes bore down on me. “Wait a second, I know you! You’re that guy on TV chasing the ghosts, right?”

  “You got me.” I held my hands up in mock surrender. “Well, that is me for about half the year. The other half, I’m down here in Erwin.”

  “No shit. Well, come up here and have a seat. I sure as hell didn’t expect a TV star to be wandering up to my place today.” He paused. “Hold up. You’re not out here looking for ghosts, are ya?”

  “Why, you know some?” I asked, trying to play it all off.

  “I dunno man, I wouldn’t say ghosts, but this place sure is weird.”

  “I take it, you’re not from Roan,” I said with a chuckle.

  “Nah, I’m from Louisville. I needed to get out of the city and this seemed to be the perfect spot. But then, a couple weeks after I moved in, I lost my dog. Wasn’t like he just ran off either, far as I can tell. I went to bed, and the next morning he was just gone. Looked everywhere for that little guy. Set up a bunch of trail cameras and everything. I dunno, I guess I have been less than thrilled about this place since then.”

  For over an hour, Zeke and I talked and drank. I learned about how he moved here a year ago. How he made his living doing some computer stuff all from in that little cabin. It was really nice to chat with someone. It was something that I hadn’t done in a long time.

  Our conversation was not without me subtly prying and trying to learn a few things. Despite his belief that there was nothing supernatural happening here, his stories of ‘weird things,’ as he put them, seemed to paint a different picture. His story about his dog was a concern, but not unheard of in these parts. What worried me more was the man he had seen at Melanie’s place. Sure, maybe she was seeing someone, but it seemed odd that he had only seen him in the upstairs window. Melanie had told me she never went up there.

  The fact that he had never seen Melanie at all was concerning in a different way. As I’d noticed, her cabin didn’t appear to be occupied. I was be
ginning to question my own sanity. I began to wonder if Melanie was nothing more than a ghost or a figment of my own imagination. Maybe I was starting to lose it. I pulled the note she wrote me out of my pocket to double check that it was real.

  After I finished my beer and said goodbye to Zeke, I picked up my clipboard from my truck and headed back into the still cabin. I decided to walk through the place with the thermal and the EMF meter again to see if there were any substantial changes. I made my way through the house but nothing stood out. As I headed upstairs to the loft, the readings grew higher, but nothing off the charts. As I walked, eyeing the meter, I noticed that the closer I got to the walls, the higher the readings became. The walls of the loft were wooden paneling. In the far side of the room, the ceiling angled downward. The far wall was only about three feet high where it met the sloping ceiling.

  The readings continued to rise as I stepped over to the side of the loft. I set the thermal imager down and ran my fingers across the walls until they came to a gap in the paneling. Just as I’d suspected, there was a small room there. I pulled open the door, and when I did, I was hit with a blast of icy cold air. I moved the EMF meter into the room and the readings went off the chart.

  As the cold air surrounded me, I could feel the energy rising inside my chest. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The energy was strong but not overwhelmingly negative. There wasn’t malice or spite, but loss. It wasn’t sadness. I didn’t sense the loss of a person or lover. It was less emotional than that. It was a loss of something, though. I could feel it in my bones.

  “What are you looking for?” I whispered to the dark room.

  As the words left my lips, the wave of energy spilled out of me like a geyser. In an instant, the cold and the energy were gone. As if blown by the wind of that energy, the door to the room slammed shut. I was left panting for air. My heart was beating out of my chest. I sat slumped on the floor, needing a minute to recover. At least I knew that I wasn’t losing it. There was something there, that much was for sure. I just needed to learn what it was.