Well damn, I'm spellbound.
I don't understand, the "son of the man", meaning the radio caller was the father, and the son was the severed head guy? When you said they "wanted to make sure he was dead", I immediately flashed to Anne Rice, but never mind, heh.
You got it. The radio caller was the father of the severed head guy, and yes, whoever cut his head off wanted to be sure he wasn't going to go on as a vampire, attacking people in spirit at night.
Anyhow, here's [glow=red,2,300]
PART 2[/glow]
As you might imagine, the news from the psychic that the ghost of the little girl was going to try to get in touch me
was a bit scary. I feared I would awaken one fine night to discover her standing next to the bed.
I would die of fright on the spot.
But that's not what happened.
Instead what happened is this: My Florida friend and I had some bad experiences with the pictures.
It seemed we suffered misfortune when we looked at them, so we decided to forget about
them for awhile. (HA!)
And so it was that a few years later I was babysitting someone's house
while they were away on business, and I lost my appetite. I thought it might be due to not
being in my usual surroundings, but in any case, I was in this house, and I just suddenly couldn't eat.
I could drink coffee with cream, but that and water was all.
Two days into this weird, involuntary fast, the news about the Chernobyl meltdown hit the news.
Two days after it had begun. I guess that on some level I was tuned into it somehow, but I still was unable
to eat. On the fourth day I was listening to the radio, and a college station played a song called "Restless Native" by a rock band called Big Country.
The song was a B side to one of their singles; it wasn't on their album.
It was the spookiest song I ever heard in my life.
It started with a scary riff, and the voice of a young girl saying, "Hi there." After the first verse there was more spooky music, and the girl's voice again.
"Do you remember me?" she asked in the most spectral voice you ever heard in your life.
Then came another verse, and then the girl said, "Well, bye now." It was absolutely bone-chilling.
The song faded out in an eerie tone.
I thought to myself, whoever did the recording for that song had to have been a sheer genius.
It was perfect! I had to have that record!
I literally ran three blocks to a record store, and purchased it on the spot.
I called up my sister. "5000, you
have to hear this spooky record I just bought!" I told her.
"Whoever did the recording on this song was a genius!"
I ran to her house and slapped the record onto the turn table.
We waited with great anticipation.
There was the spooky music at the start....and the first verse.
Then more spooky music....and the second verse.
Then more spooky music.
"The girl must come in about here," I thought.
The record faded out, and ended.
"Well that was OK, I guess", 5000 said. "It was sort of spooky, I suppose," she said.
I was stunned. "Well...um...no, you see there was a little - ....
I mean...on the radio version there was....uh..."
Suddenly I realized what had happened.
"Er, yeah, I thought so too." I said. "That's why I bought it."
I stumbled to the door in a fog.
[glow=orange,2,300]
PART 3[/glow]
Fast forward to this past Spring. There's a house I walk by every day on my way to work. There's a little
girl who lived there 'til her family moved away in June. She was about 5 years old, and she would always
wave to me and greet me enthusiastically, as if we were best friends. "Hi 4000!" she would yell.
Her sister told me that the family was somewhat surprised by this, in that usually she was quite shy,
but for some reason she'd light up when she saw me coming.
"Hi Thursday!" I would smile and wave back.
As I mentioned, her family moved away in June. I don't know where they moved to, but I did
somewhat miss her enthusiastic greetings.
A new family moved into the house. A young couple with a HUGE vicious black dog.
About a week after they'd moved in, the woman had the dog in her car, and opened the door to get some
groceries she had in the back seat. The dog bolted from the car, and made a bee line for me.
It sank its teeth into my hand. The woman screamed.
Suddenly the dog just let go, and walked away toward the house.
"She saved you from a dangerous big black dog."
The words came back into my head.
I think that perhaps little Thursday may have been befriended by the spirit of the little ghost girl
in the picture, who'd been killed at the turn of the last century. Thursday's enthusiasm for saying "Hi" to me may have
been prompted from an earlier time. The girl in the picture who (recently) saved me from the dog may have
prompted Thursday to greet me, telling her, "He's a friend of mine."
I'm just speculating of course, but it is still nice to be greeted and protected by friends, invisible and otherwise.