Wasn't 13 Ghosts a great movie??? I loved it and I think props go out to Matthew Lillard for being a great psychic, and kind of cute. Now, this is the capturing of the first 11 ghosts, not in first person but as Dennis saw most of it. Hope you enjoy, this is just the first of many.

I don't own anything, obviously. Reviews are appreciated, if I don't get many I probably won't finish.

Tormenting the Dead

By Robinyj69

Dennis Rafkin studied his surroundings, still not exactly sure of what he was doing in the great mansion. The walls were mostly made of cold brick, there was some marble, the floors all echoed eerily, and he soon discovered that none of the furniture was very comfortable. It was obvious that Cyrus Kriticos was not a very welcoming man and did not host company often. Dennis couldn't help but wonder what he could want with him.

He had an idea that it had something to do with his gift, talent, curse, whatever you want to call it. Being a known and powerful psychic had its perks, but it had also tormented Dennis almost everyday of his life. There were few days, even moments in his memory that were not filled with pain. Even as he sat in the rock hard chair awaiting the millionaire who had called him about a possible job, he was fighting back a headache caused by a ghostly encounter an hour before. Spirits truly were everywhere, he had simply walked into one while leaving his apartment building.

As the minutes ticked by Dennis wondered what Cyrus's proposal was. He had promised on the phone it would be something exciting, like an adventure he had said. Rafkin was no stranger to adventures, he had worked with the police several times, flawlessly finding killers and fugitives, the pay was horrible but the publicity brought on bigger things. The rich and powerful would pay any price to be able to speak to dead loved ones or have some glimpse into the life of the dead, and he could provide that for him. It would probably be no different for Cyrus Kriticos. Just then the door opened and in stepped his new employer.

"Mr. Rafkin, I presume." Kriticos was curt and to the point.

"Yeah, what can I do for you Mr. Kriticos?" Dennis asked. Cyrus hadn't offered his hand in greeting and he was thankful, he didn't feel like finding out everything about this man in one painful headrush, not just yet anyway.

"Before I explain the more intricate details of this job I wish to make sure you are exactly what I'm looking for. Therefore I would like to be able to test your abilities myself." Cyrus said, turning his back to Dennis as he walked over to a nearby cabinet.

"Everyone's a skeptic." Dennis muttered, "Look I have powers, or abilities, whatever you want to call them. I don't want them, but there they are. Take it or leave it."

"I have no doubt you have a talent in this field, my question is to what extent. Catch." Cyrus turned suddenly and threw something in Dennis's direction. A small plastic cap gun. He caught it without difficulty but immediately regretted it.

His body arked in pain as images rushed through his head:

~|~ A little boy watching TV, a mother and father yelling, the little boy in a cowboy outfit, blood, a friend with something to show off, pain, a real bow and arrows, a showdown, cowboys verses indians, cap gun verses a deadly weapon, pain, cowboys lose, the boy laying motionless blood flowing down his forehead where the arrow had gone through his skull. ~|~

"Ahh!" Dennis exclaimed as he pushed past the images and into reality, quickly throwing away the small toy.

"What did you see?" Cyrus asked immediately, showing no concern for Dennis, only curiousity about his visions.

"Why did you do that!? My god, there was a little boy he was killed by his friend with a damn bow and arrow!" Dennis sat down, clutching his head. He patted down his pockets and swore softly to himself, he was out of pills.

"Very good Mr. Rafkin, most of the others I've seen have been rather vague when it comes to specifics. It's always the same story; pain, a young man, so young, great pain, a horrible accident. No one ever says much else." Cyrus explained, pleased with Dennis's abilities.

"I think you'll find I'm a rare breed." It was true, most people with Dennis's level of abilities weren't able to handle the pain and seclusion and took their own lives at young ages. But Dennis was a survivor, he was determined to live and had accepted his gift long ago.

"You most certainly are. You're hired." Cyrus announced suddenly and headed for the door.

"Wait, I didn't say I accepted. You haven't even told me the job." Dennis said, following the man a few steps.

"Oh, you'll accept, I need you. You'll be well paid, more so than you could ever imagine. Be here at eight o'clock tomorrow evening, I'll tell you everything you need to know. Until then Mr. Rafkin." And then he was gone.

"Call me Dennis." He muttered to himself when he was alone and then showed himself out. But he'd be back the next night. He normally wouldn't have accepted such a job but Cyrus Kriticos was one of the few men who would actually be able to pay what he promised. If Dennis could get enough from him he could retire from the soul searching business and try to live a normal, sane life, and find the place in the world with the lowest spiritual population.


I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe I'm doing this ... It echoed through Dennis's head like a horrible mantra. He had gone back to Cyrus's house the next night and had been told the details of his job.

They were going to capture ghosts. Capture ghosts! Twelve to be exact.

Dennis had known for a long time that ghosts existed, had never really had a chance in his life to doubt it, but to actually capture one was unheard of. But Cyrus seemed to be serious, he had men, he had money, he had cages, equipment, locations, everything. He didn't know what the ghosts were for or why only twelve, but it wasn't to be his job to ask, in fact he was being paid not to. But oh how he was being paid. It was more than Dennis had imagined, he could definitely retire after this, that was the only reason he agreed to do it. What had captivated him were the barrier spells in the boxes. Cyrus had explained them to him at length, knowing that Dennis would need to understand everything if he were to help them. He understood completely and it made sense, but he didn't like it. Then again, he didn't have to like it, he just had to do it.

So here he was, Dennis Rafkin, psychic, out in the middle of the night at an archery field, with dozens of men hired for the same reason as him, ghost hunting. He felt kind of stupid.

Cyrus had also provided him with a special pair of glasses, he said he could see the wraiths with them. He was skeptical but wore them anyway. Dennis was getting strong vibes from the area and could feel the horrible migraines returning. He reached into his pocket and clasped his pill bottle he was about to swallow a few as a precaution but Cyrus came over. He put the pills away, they disoriented him and he knew it wasn't a good time to be anything less than completely focussed.

"Are you ready Mr. Rafkin?" Cyrus asked, anticipation coating his voice.

"Depends on your definition of ready. Getting a really bad feeling about this, yes. Ready, no." Dennis admitted, constantly looking over his shoulder, suddenly feeling paranoid.

"Either way you're going in there to help me find that ghost. I would also like you to meet Jessica Cairn, she'll be assisting you if necessary." Jessica was young, about Dennis's age, pretty and had bright blue eyes and dark brown hair that came to her shoulders. Dennis was never very impressed with women, he could never be with anyone afterall. He had learned at a young age that he could never touch anyone without pain, or images of their life passing before him and that made intimacy with a woman impossible. It was sad and very isolating, but that was his life, it wasn't supposed to be fair. Was it?

"I really don't ..." Before Dennis could finish his thought Jessica grabbed his hand and shook it eagerly.

"I'm happy to be working with you Mr. Rafkin, I've heard about everything you've done. I have psychic abilities myself, that's why Mr. Kriticos hired me but I couldn't help him as much as he needed, so he came to you. I'll be happy to help you any way I can. The spiritual energy is very intense in this area, but I'm sure you can feel that already." Dennis thought she was the most perfect woman he'd ever seen, Jessica spoke very fast, and was very eager and cheerful, but that wasn't why he adored her already.

She was shaking his hand and there was nothing, absolutely nothing. No images of pain, or even joy, no overwhelming emotions or thoughts, there was just quiet. He stared down at their hands, not believing it was true. Suddenly Cyrus broke him from his thoughts of joy.

"Shall we begin Mr. Rafkin?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, let's go." Dennis said, never releasing Jessica's hand. They began to make their way around the archery field, Cyrus's men followed along behind, two more waited in the truck carrying the cage for the ghost. It was a universal irony that the boy was haunting the archery fields, three people had been accidently shot and killed in the last week. But Dennis no longer cared, he only had eyes for Jessica.

"You're psychic too, is that why I can't link to you?" Dennis had to ask.

"Yes, I'm more of a mind psychic, reading thoughts and stuff, but to read thoughts you have to be able to block out your own. I can open my mind if you really want me to." Jessica offered, not completely understanding Dennis's immediate closeness.

"No, don't do that!" Dennis tore his hand away from hers, just in case she dropped them anyway.

"Okay. It's okay." Jessica soothed, taking his hand in her own once more. He was like a fragile child in some ways, but clearly very strong in others.

"Mr. Rafkin, the sooner you do your job the sooner you may leave for whatever activities you wish." Cyrus was losing patience.

"Right, right." Dennis reluctantly released Jessica's hand and walked away from the group. He stood for a moment by himself in the middle of an open field and got a feel for the area. Then he walked over to one of the archery targets and placed his hand on the center.

~|~ Pain, an arrow flying through the sky unchallenged, the boy, a target, a body, blood, fear, revenge, another arrow, another body, cowboys must win, indians must die, another body, pain, a favorite place. ~|~

Dennis moaned in agony as the images flew by, Jessica was by his side in a moment, suddenly frantic. She never experienced physical pain while linking, and didn't know anyone who did.

"What's wrong? Dennis, are you hurt?" She pulled his arm and dragged him from the target.

Dennis fell to his knees and gasped for breath, for the moment he ignored her and the pain, he was used to it by now. He locked eyes with Cyrus and pointed towards a small crop of trees at the edge of the field.

"He's over there, he likes to watch from over there." Dennis explained, gasping.

"Excellent, this way." Cyrus led his men across the field with Dennis and Jessica not far behind.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jessica asked once more.

"I'll be fine," Dennis said, taking two of his meds, "That always happens."

"It must be horrible." Jessica commented. No sooner had the words left her mouth than Dennis spasmed in pain once more, nearly falling again. The boy was close, very close, and there was definitely pain.

"Cyrus, he's close!" Dennis yelled.

"I know." Cyrus was practically giddy.

Dennis looked up, past Cyrus. There he was. The first ghost.

"Meet, The First Born Child."


There will be a small, short lived romance between Dennis and Jessica, won't interfere in the plot much. Hope you liked, I'll write more if I get a few reviews. I just thought that the story of Dennis and the capturing of the other ghosts was a story that needed to be told. Hope you liked, please review. Suggestions are welcome.