AS SEEN ON TV

A story for all my paranormal friends....

AS SEEN ON TV
Written by
Christopher Mancuso

The waning May moon shone dully through the cracked, milky windows of the old Victorian house, but did little to light the room. It only served to create more shadows. The house had no working electricity, so John opted to use the Night Vision on his camcorder. He peered through the viewfinder and watched particles of dust waft lazily in the heavy, stale air. His friends were all tinted green. Vikki stood silent, deep in thought. Sarah stepped into frame waving around an EMF detector just like she had seen paranormal investigators do on TV. She scoured for an anomalous reading that would indicate the presence of a spirit as Desmond sat on the dusty, wooden floor intently listening to his headphones.

They were ghost hunting. The paranormal was a common interest shared by the group. Not so much John Serillo, he was more interested in Sarah than he was in finding restless spirits, but he was a film student and needed a final project for class. He had seen a ghost hunting show on television once and this seemed like an easy enough way to get an A. Plus, it got him closer to Sarah, at least for one night. Desmond, Vikki and Sarah had formed their little society of paranormal enthusiasts three months ago after watching the widely popular “Soul Savers” network television series. The freshmen had come up with a clever name C.R.E.E.P.E.R.S. (College Research of Extreme Entity and Paranormal Extraction Rescue Society). Desmond printed up business cards and flyers, which they handed out on and off campus. Sarah had matching T-shirts made up for each member. Now they were official.

Vikki Hanlon was a psychic; she had been ever since she was a little girl. As was her mother, and her mother’s mother. It was a family trait passed down from generation to generation. A medium, she was able to communicate with the spirits of those who had crossed over to the other side. Her grandmother had been known to channel spirits and Vikki was certain she had inherited that ability as well. It wasn’t something she liked to brag about, yet somehow she managed to work it into almost every conversation.

Desmond Snyder deemed himself a Demonologist. It was a dark field of study that would surely help secure his mysterious reputation around campus of which he was so proud. He had always had an interest in the Occult and witchcraft. Once he wrote a ten page research paper about the Salem Witch trials. He owned a copy of The Necronomicon, and he had almost read cover to cover, not to mention he had watched The Exorcist at least a hundred times. Desmond had spent days compiling a list of known Demon names and their ranks from several websites. He carried the list in a bag with a bottle of spring water which he had blessed himself.

Beautiful and charismatic, Sarah Corman was the group’s Lead Investigator despite being the youngest. Why shouldn’t she be? It was her idea to form C.R.E. E.P.E.R.S. after all. She had put some adds out on bulletin boards around campus and from the five applicants she had narrowed the list down to two. She had spent over three hundred dollars of her own money buying all the paranormal detection equipment from an on-line store. She had learned to how use each item thoroughly. Besides, she was the most qualified to lead of the three. She had done plenty of research, religiously watching every paranormal show that came out on television. And man, that was a lot. It was also Sarah who had also gotten the group their first case at 91 Willow Road East.

The old Victorian house sat at the edge of town, it had been empty for over a decade and the weather had really begun to take its toll on the once beautiful architecture. The peeling red paint of the exterior had faded to a dull pink. The columns were cracked and chipped. Thick vines of ivy strangled the front of the house like a hundred wiry fingers. The wooden steps leading up the door were warped and rotting. An old screen door hung askew on rusty hinges. Entire rows of shingles were missing from the eaves, which were beginning to bow inward. Everything about the place screamed HAUNTED to Sarah.

Upon researching the house’s recent history, she and Vikki discovered that there had been a tragic accident with fatal consequences in the attic. In 1991, Mark Wilson, a ten-year boy old had fallen from an open window when he stuck his head out to call for his mother, who was gardening in the yard. The boy landed on his head and broke his neck. He died instantly. Sarah had watched enough shows to know that with a sudden death such as this, the poor boy’s spirit was most likely still trapped in the house, not even aware of his own untimely demise. Sarah wanted to get inside and see for herself.

After convincing John to film the investigation for his class, Sarah had called the number on the fading FOR SALE sign crookedly posted on the dead lawn in the front yard. She told the real estate agent that she and her group were doing a school project and asked if they could investigate the house for paranormal activity. While the old woman seemed pleasant enough, she wasn’t very receptive to the idea. At least not until Sarah offered to pay her $117 for the night. That sealed the deal.

Shortly after sundown the CREEPERS entered the house, flashlights in hand and headed up to the musty attic where Mark Wilson fell from the window over a decade earlier. They would find his spirit and rescue him from eternal loneliness. And who knows, if everything went according to plan they might wind up with their own TV deal out of their endeavor.

“We’ve been here for almost a half hour,” Desmond said looking at his watch with a tinge of impatience. “We haven’t got a single reading. Maybe there’s nothing here after all.” He had just finished rechecking the audio from his last EVP session with no results and was beginning to grow bored. “I hope this is going to be worth my thirty-two bucks.”

“Give it some time,” Sarah said, “maybe he’s afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Desmond asked then added, “The Soul Savers always find the ghosts before the first commercial break. And that’s only ten minutes. What the hell is taking so long?”

“Don’t worry,” Sarah told the others, “We have the house all night. That will give us plenty of time for a soul saving.”

John noticed that with the night vision feature on his camera he could see clear through Sarah’s shirt. He zoomed into to her ample breasts for a closer look. What a day not to be wearing a bra, he thought with a grin. For the time being he had forgotten about ghosts.

“Vikki, are you sensing the spirit of the little boy that died here?” Sarah asked pointing with her flashlight.
Vikki nodded.

He watched the four of them from a dark corner, mildly amused.


Vikki dramatically pressed her fingers to her temples and concentrated. She tried to focus all of her thoughts, all of her senses. She could feel someone here. Someone else in the attic with them. “He’s hiding,” she assured her friends, “over in the far corner.”


The children waved their toys, wanting to play. He had been alone in this place for a long time and he too, wanted to play. Very much. But he held fast lest he frighten them away.


Sarah wasn’t getting any spikes on her detector. She shrugged, “Okay Creepers, maybe we have to coax him out like they do on TV,”

“Show yourself! Come on, you little faggot!” Desmond shouted into the darkness. “What’s the matter? Baby gonna cry? Make a noise. Make something move, unless you’re too much of a sissy.”

“I sense you’re getting him upset,” Vikki whispered.

Desmond smiled and winked at the camera, “Good. It’s working. Provoking is so much fun.”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Sarah said, “We’re here to help you.”

Behind them, a floorboard creaked.

The group flinched as one. A small yelp escaped Sarah’s throat. John almost dropped his camera. “What the hell was that?”

“It’s Mark Wilson’s ghost,” Sarah answered excitedly. “He is here!” She shined her light in the direction of the noise, but saw nothing.

“Should I banish him?” Desmond asked hopefully, reaching into his bag. Although he had never performed an exorcism personally, he had seen it on TV many times and he memorized all the words they used. How hard could it be?

Sarah put a hand on Desmond’s arm, “Not yet, let’s see if we can make him go peacefully. He’s just a little boy.” She looked at Vikki and nodded.

He was drawn to them like metal to a magnet, but this was more than a mere game of Hide and Seek, whether they realized it or not, the stakes were much higher. He was playing for keeps. Still, there were rules that he must obey and so he waited. Waited to make his move.


As she stood in the attic, Vikki knew she had a purpose here. She knew she could help. She was special. Gifted. She had been chosen for one of the most important jobs she could ever imagine. She was a rescuer of spirits, a soul saver. Just like on TV. It was ironic how her purpose in life was the helping people in the afterlife. “I am speaking to the spirit of Mark Wilson. My name is Vikki Hanlon and we’re here to help rescue you. Go into the light, you’ll find peace there. Go towards the light.” Vikki repeated the words like a litany. “The light is love. You’ll be happy there.”

Mark Wilson’s not here, but I am. He grinned maliciously. And if they could have seen whom they were talking to, they would have all died of fright.

“Is that it? Is it over?”

Over? It’s just the beginning, child.


“Did he leave, Vik?” Sarah’s question was answered when the lights on her meter spiked from green to red. Her eyes lit up, “Oh my God! Did you see that?”

“I saw that! I got that on camera!” John whispered proudly. “Awesome.”

“He’s still here. Now do I get to exorcise him?” Desmond pleaded eagerly, “Man, that would be so extreme!”

He laughed at that remark. As if, boy.


Vikki closed her eyes and saw an image with her mind’s eye. She shook her head sadly, “He’s telling me that he’s too scared to go.”

“Aww, the poor boy. Can you channel his spirit and let me talk to him?” Sarah’s idol on Soul Savers could often convince spirits to leave even when the psychics could not. Sarah believed she possessed the same charm. “I can persuade him to go into the light.”

“Okay, you’re cuter than I am. Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.” Vikki shrugged. “Mark? Mark? Sarah wants to speak with you.” As seen on TV, she said, “You can use me as your vessel. I invite you to enter my body to speak through me.”

That was what the demon needed to hear, the sign he had been waiting for impatiently. He slithered towards the fat girl, sneering. He’d talk through her for sure. And oh, the blasphemous things he would say; the terrible acts he would make her do against her will. Stupidity wasn’t a mortal sin, but it could prove just as deadly. Things were about to get fun. Meat puppets were his favorite toys. It was playtime.