Haunting of Swanson Peak

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The demonic legion of half crazed horses had chased him into a unrecognized room. This large spacious room looks like it was once a ballroom with fully stock liquor cabinet. There is a waiter waiting for him. “So is this a joke,” he screams “who going to pay for the damages to the third floor. I bet you think it was funny. I could have died. Say something, damn it!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the bartender had a glass in hand which he was cleaning with soapy rag. “What horses?”

This playing stupid was getting on his nervous. In this moment, he is seriously considering taking the assault charges for striking the man. “Are you joking?”

“I’m afraid I don’t get your off putting brand of humor.” The bartender puts the glass away and turns his back to him.

“Who put you up to this? I bet it was Larry.”

The man shook his head and doesn’t acknowledge him. He swore he heard the man sighing. Finally he say with clearly annoyed tone, “I have no idea who Larry is.”

He looks around for cameras, but finding none. He gets in the bartenders face looking him dead in the eye and grabs him by the collar. “America’s funniest home video right? I’m on to you!” He shoves him away.

“Calm down,” the man says with his lean bony face and upfront eyes gazing over bar counter “have a whiskey.” He accepted it. “You really should calm down you upsetting the misses.” He was about to say, what misses?

But he had vanished prompting him to leap over the counter searching for the man. “The hell,” he screams! He takes the glass of whiskey off the counter and throws it, shattering against the far wall. “You won’t take advantage of me.” His screams echoes throughout the empty halls.

He rush down the hall but is stopped dead in his tracks when he realize the damage from the horses was gone. That was straw that broke Wall Street camel’s back. His family illness must be setting in and he kept a stock pile of his father’s pills for this moment. The image of his half crazed father talking with nonexistent Phil about his wife conspiracy to usurp the kingdom of god spurred him on.

He was in bathroom that connects the master bedroom with the bottle pills in his shaking hands staring at his reflection. With what he was aware of, there shouldn’t be hesitation. He wouldn’t become his father. Then his own image faded away and mirror became black. A beautiful fair skin woman had step from out of the darkness. Her hair was the color of autumn and eyes like emeralds. The woman’s brow was short with a small flat nose and eyes space apart, set low on her thin head, lush lips on a thin jaw and crescent chin. “Don’t,” she says.

“Why not,” he screams at her “I’m talking to a mirror.”

“You’re not crazy,” she says in an even soothing tone.”

“That what all the crazy people hallucination say.”

“No, do you remember what the doctor said, if you’re crazy you don’t know you’re crazy.”

“How the hell do you know that? What are you,” he says letting the pill bottle fall out of his hands and scattering pills on floor. She reaches out from the mirror and he recoils, out of the way and out of the room. “I won’t let you,” he screams running out of the room. The hallway stretches, like a fun house mirror, into infinity. He couldn’t escape, he sees a shadow approaching. It’s the woman. Knowing how the hall is stretching, that it was futile to run, he had to try it. He is running down hall for what seems like forever. Then he recognizes the flicker of the florescent light of the bathroom, the pictures of the marsh and overlook view of the ocean. He hears a voice on the wind, “Manfred.” The realization that there wasn’t wind causes him to gasp. This ain't real.”

“But it is,” the feminine voice came from behind him “I’ve been waiting for you.”

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