Haunted, A Paranormal Romance, Spiritus Series Book 2

Haunted

Spiritus Series Book Two

By

Dana Michelle Burnett

Smashwords Edition

Copyright ©2012 by Dana Michelle Burnett

http://DanaMichelleBurnett.com

This entire book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, and persons living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

Cover Photo by VikaValter of VikaValter.com

The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways--I to die and you to live. Which is the better, only God knows. ~ Socrates

Preface

As we stepped off the bridge, a beautiful woman with deep olive skin moved into our path. She seemed to glow in her long white dress and white head wrap. There was something pulsating on her shoulders. It took a moment for my eyes to focus enough to see that it was a large snake that slithered about her neck.

I see that which you want most, she declared, pulling the snake’s head up to hers so that it's forked tongue could flicker across her lips.

I stepped around her, cringing away from the serpent.

The woman laughed, showing a wide mouth of bright white teeth, He can come back, you know.

The air left my lungs and I stopped short. I couldn't have heard her right. I dropped Jonah's hand and turned around slowly.

What did you say? I asked.

She stepped over to me, swaying her hips so that her dress swung like a bell.

I can bring him back, She whispered as she came within inches of my face. I know that is the thing that you want most.

There was a surge of air swirling around me and over my head. The woman's eyes focused on it with a knowing smile.

Chapter 1

Dr. Langdon

I had never been to Indiana until the summer I came to practice at the Madison State Psychiatric Hospital. It was nothing like what I expected. The area was beautiful and the facility itself overlooked the Ohio River.

There was a sense of peace and tranquility to the drive up to the hospital that wouldn't be possible in Chicago where my parents lived. They didn't understand their only son's choice to come here anymore than they understood why I wanted to hang around with lunatics all day instead of becoming a real doctor.

As the security guard searched me and my briefcase, I had to wonder if my parents weren’t right and I had made a huge mistake. Would I have been better off in private practice or perhaps I should have become the surgeon they always wanted?

The hospital was just starting to come alive, the staff moved groups of patients from their rooms to the cafeteria, they all moved in a line down the hall. A few of the patients looked up at me as I walked past, but all of the nurses had bright, cheery smiles.

Good morning, Dr. Langdon.

Good morning.

I noticed that each nurse and even a few of the female patients eyed me up and down. Being one of the few doctors under sixty, I tended to be the focus of female infatuation whether I wanted to be or not.

There was one woman that remained unimpressed with me and that was my secretary, Mrs. Talbot, she seemed to tolerate my existence only because it provided her a job, otherwise she would gladly see me gone. On a good day, she would tell me good morning. On a bad day, she would just bark orders at me as if she dared me to reprimand her.

You have a new patient, she snapped as soon as I walked through the door while she continued to water the plants on the window sill. The chart is on your desk.

Thank you, I said as I moved toward my office. I glanced back at her sarcastically, And good morning by the way.

She nodded, which was as close to a good morning as I was going to get that day.

I went inside my office to my desk where the new manila chart lay with bright blue and white stickers with the letters ER on the side.

As I sat down, I could hear someone screaming down the hall and in the office next door, someone was crying. It was the typical sounds of the psychiatric hospital, I tried to tune all of that out as I put my feet up on my desk and started reading.

Rebecca Ericson, 23

Patient admitted from Floyd Memorial Hospital. She presented at the ER hysterical and paranoid, arguing with what seemed to be voices that only she was hearing. Given sedatives and admitted for 24 hour observation. Her father states patient is recently widowed and just attended the funeral only yesterday. Advise full evaluation and possible transfer to a mental health facility after observation.

The chart stated that she was given a routine dose of Thorazine as a sedative and transferred to the psychiatric ward. To me there was nothing that stood out as unusual, it all seemed pretty routine and in order. I turned to the next page and continued reading.

August 4 – Patient uncooperative refuses to speak to doctors or other counselors. Overnight patient was seen talking and arguing with herself in the empty room. This disturbed the night nurse to the point she has asked for a transfer. Advise to extend observation.

August 5 – Patient still refuses to speak other than random phrases such as it's too late. She refuses to speak about her delusions or of deceased husband. Patient was heard screaming most of the night, given a sedative for mania. Observation extended another 24 hours.

August 6 – Patient aware of her own name and address, but still refuses to talk about the voices. She was heard again arguing and talking to herself, prompting another night nurse to ask for a transfer from this board. Advise to extend observation.

August 7 – Patient still resists treatment. She has withdrawn further. Recommend patient be transferred to an inpatient facility for further treatment.

The next page was her admission here at Madison. Again she was noted to be withdrawn, but seemed to be an easy patient to deal with and treat. She was assigned to Dr. Goldstein and began her treatment.

August 10-Initial visit. Rebecca Ericson, referred by psych evaluation at Floyd Memorial Hospital. Patient is 23 years old and appears in reasonable good health and of average intelligence. Took basic history with assistance of the patient. Assigned patient to weekly sessions.

August 16-Reports from ward state that patient compliant and shy in group sessions with peers. Patient agreeable during sessions, speaks freely about personal relationships will continue with weekly therapy.

August 24-Today discussed the patient’s husband. She reacted as expected. Patient seems to still be grieving. Recommend group grief counseling. Initial diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and depression.

September 10-Returned from Labor Day holiday. Patient continues to improve. Will address previous hallucinations in next session.

September 15-Discussing the hallucinations her father described upon admission and patient became hysterical. Sedated.

September 22-Progress halted. Patient withdrawn. Refuses to attend group therapy.

September 30-Patient is in isolation. Attacked the night nurse and had to be restrained. Will continue treatment at a later date.

October 4-Report from ward states that patient becomes hysterical at night and I assume becomes violent as four nurses have left their positions. Prescribing nightly sedatives.

October 10-Patient talked of the changing seasons and seemed more receptive. Will lower the sedative dose in hopes that she will become more involved with therapy.

October 18-Patient was found wandering the halls. Sedated and restrained. Will schedule meeting with family to discuss further treatment.

October 20-Advised family that electroshock treatment would be our next step. Patient’s father (medical proxy) refused. Will continue with present treatment.

October 29-Patient withdrawn and refuses to communicate.

November 6-Patient refuses to communicate.

There were months of notes, all relatively the same, all the way up to two weeks ago when her case was referred to me. I closed the chart and logged into my computer, checking over the patients that were scheduled. Her name was about halfway down the screen, just after lunch.

I was satisfied with that. After all, judging from the chart, the poor girl just needed some grief counseling. It couldn’t be easy losing her husband at such a young age. I’d try my best and if I couldn’t reach her, I’d speak to her father again about the possibility of electroshock therapy. It seemed pretty cut and dry.

I didn't have any more time to think about her as I moved through my morning of patients. I had all but forgotten about her when two orderlies, looking more like club bouncers than medical personnel, escorted the frail young woman into my office for her appointment.

It was hard to believe that this little girl was the cause of so much trouble in the ward. Rebecca Ericson was small, even though her chart stated she was twenty-three, she appeared only about sixteen or seventeen. She was dressed like many other patients, in blue jeans and a simple white T-shirt, but still she managed to look even younger than her years. She walked with her head down, cringing away from her escorts.

You must be Rebecca, I said as I came around my desk. I am Dr. Langdon.

She reached a pale, thin hand out and shook my hand. Most people just call me Becca.

There was something very fragile about her wrist in the way that the bones felt very close to the surface as I shook her hand.

I gestured to the sofa, Would you like to take a seat, Becca?

She stepped away from her companions tentatively, as if she expected them to stop her. Sitting on the corner of the sofa, she looked down at her hands folded in her lap and said nothing.

Thank you, gentlemen, I said to dismiss the orderlies. We will be done in about an hour.

I waited until they left and closed the door behind them. I pulled one of the chairs over so that I was directly across from her and sat down. She didn't look up.

I flipped to a fresh page in my notepad, So why don't I just go over how we’re going to do this, okay?

No response.

First off, I continued, I want you to know that this is a safe place. You can tell me anything that you want without fear of judgment or reprimand.

I made notes at the top of the page about her lack of eye contact, We’re just going to sit here and talk, I'm not going to hurt you, and nothing that you say will go past that door.

There might've been a slight change in her, a slight movement as if she glanced at the door, but it was hard to tell because of her hair hanging about her face.

So, would you like to tell me a little about yourself?

Becca shrugged, the movement causing her dark hair to slip so that I could see a quick glimpse of her face.

What would you like to know? She asked in a hoarse whisper.

I glanced back through her chart, I see that you live in Corydon, what's that like?

Small.

Okay, I said with a smile and scanned her admission details again. Is that where you grew up?

No. We moved there my senior year of high school.

I could see that she had started twisting her hands slightly. What was making her so uncomfortable?

Where did you live before that? I asked, making a note on the page.

Indianapolis.

And what was the reason for the move?

She smiled serenely without looking up as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. I caught a brief glimpse of a hollowed cheek.

My mom died and we needed a change, she said simply.

There was a note of sadness in her voice, but nothing extreme. Judging from the time frame that she was suggesting, her reaction was not unusual.

How did she die?

Car accident.

I searched through the information in her chart again quickly, Isn't that how Mr. Ericson passed away also?

Becca shook her head slightly and lowered her face even more, hiding again behind her stringy hair.

I quickly changed the subject, Was it difficult moving to a new place?

She shrugged again, Corydon was just different.

"Was it hard to