The Spirit in the Ceiling

About the author: I like to spend time with lambs at my neighbors farm.

Present Time

The doors creaked as we approached. It smelt of old tobacco and musty, old furniture. The stage was falling in on itself and the ceiling paint was cracking. Something cold rushed past me, it was almost like a wind. There were no air conditioners or fans. No windows and only one golden antique - like door that was closed. There were old wood pillars in the middle of the aisles that were rough and full of splinters. The chairs were leather and dirty. My blonde hair and blue-eyed partner Paisley and I took notes and kept close. Something didn’t feel right even if we had been to the worst of crime scenes. We were the first to come back after the incident to try to interpret what happened on October 17th, 1894.

October 12th, 1894

I flew around trying to decide who I wanted to see. People were suspecting things about the deaths of performers, so I couldn’t have my apprentice get someone really well-known to perform. Ida Morris was one of the best known opera singers in the world. I met her in England and I begged her to perform at the opera house. My father had just passed, and I wanted to keep the theater open for him. Many people came and drew crowds, but not as big as Ida’s. The whole world loved her! I met her at a little coffee shop on Barre Street in Oxford, England.

When I met Ida Morris the clip clop of the horses’ hooves and carriage wheels on the sun-lit cobblestone streets were repetitive, but somewhat peaceful. She came rushing in, escaping the crowds. At the first sight of her I knew she had to perform at my opera house. Her hair was brown and perfectly curly. She had bright red lipstick on and very faint blush was stroked on her cheeks. She wore a cream colored dress with lavender flower designs on the sides. Her shoes were light pink and her spring jacket was black with a flower broach on it that matched the designs on her dress.

Her eyes were dark and piercing. “Good morning, Antonio. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,”

“Ms. Morris! Come join me, I’ve been waiting shortly, no need to worry.”

”We have to make this quick. I have a show tonight in London and I have to get there by 1:00.”

“Okay then, will you perform on the 17th?” Antonio asked slyly.

“No, I cannot. I don't want to perform at a little theater. I am a big deal and I don't want places like yours to get in the way of that.”

“Please come, we need the money from the crowd you would draw in,” Antonio sighed.

“No,” Ida walks away to get some tea.

I turn in my seat so I could still face her.

“Ida, please? One night. That's it.”

When she came back she reached into her purse and pulled out sage in a bundle and a box of matches.

“What's that for?” Antonio questioned Ida.

“I shal smudge some sage in here, the smell is awful,” Ida responded, her bright red lips turned into a slight smile.

“You can't do that. This is a coffeehouse. They wouldn't let you!”

“Oh, Antonio. Stop begging. I will never perform at your little theater!”

Ida lit the sage and it smoked. Antonio escaped knowing that he would fade if he stayed in there a minute longer. Sage smudging makes the evil spirits fade, you know.

Antonio was full of anger. He needed Ida Morris gone, though, she is a big deal. How could he strike revenge and kill her without anyone suspecting him?

As Antonio was climbing on a horse drawn carriage, Ida swiftly passed him, saying that she would be at the theater at 7:00 on October 17th, 1894.

The Plan

“Soufie! What did my father put in my mothers drink to kill her? Was it… uhhh…”

“Elixir of pulse lack, it works like a charm.”

Soufie was Antonio’s apprentice who had also helped his father with the murder of Antonio's mother. She has been loyal to the family for 27 years and has kept the evil secret. She was human, but that didn't matter. Who would she tell? Antonio poured some deep red fluid into some bubbly champagne. He dipped his ghostly finger into the drink he was about to give out to Ida’s entourage. Soufie leaned over Antonio’s shoulder and sniffed his finger.

“Deja Vu. It smells like your father’s,” She said mysteriously.

“You’re going to Hell, Antonio, as I am too.”

The night of October 17th, 1894

The crowd rushed in and got right to their seats. Ida Morris appeared in a peach colored mermaid dress that had dark beads and gems sewn in designs of all sorts. Her hair was done in a tight bun with a braid around it. Curly strands hung out in front of her ears that defined her face. There was a sage bundle tucked in her bun. Her makeup consisted of light blush and her lipstick was the color of her dress. Ida highlighted the mole on the left of her top lip and was carrying a tiny gem-covered clutch purse.

Soufie rushed around handing everyone the deadly drink and tried to not spill any of them.

Ida walked on stage confidently and started off with the famous Tannhäuser. The crowd went wild at the end. She was amazing. Ida Morris, the amazing opera singer performed seven more pieces before the end of the show. When walking off the stage, it looked like she floated a little, though, Antonio wasn’t at a good place to see for sure.

“Amazing job, Ida. You are welcome here anytime,” Antonio said with a little smile.

“Antonio. Come to my dress room with me.”

Antonio nodded then turned to Soufie. She pointed to her wrist where her watch should be and motioned for him to come back out in five minutes to send people on their way.

He followed Ida Morris down a candle-lit hallway to where she got ready for the show. Antonio was nervous. He knew Ida had power, and he was intimidated by her. Walking down that hallway felt like ages. He noticed that the walls were covered in a red velvet cloth and the candles were held in little indents in the wall.

Ida’s dressing room consisted of a green velvet couch and a wooden table. The carpet was made by Antonio’s mother before she died. It had peonies sewn all over it. The walls were bare except the mirror that hung over the rickety wooden table.

“Antonio, I know what’s in that drink of yours. You really think you could get away with that? You really think that you are the only evil spirit in this country? Oh honey, there are only two in North America. You and someone else. Why, I wonder who that could be!?” Ida said this angrily as Antonio stepped backwards bumping into the couch, sitting down abruptly.

The air in the room turned gray and Ida Morris turned into a bright flashing light with jet-black, lightning-like figures that emerged in a human shape, though, you could not see her. Deep red wings shot out of the light and the black lightning went down, causing smoke to fill the room. Her red, beady eyes were piercing, and she approached him. The scariest thing Antonio has ever seen was right in front of him. Antonio was so stunned, he sat there breathless, clueless.

Ida Morris rose up with a black sword, carved birds attached at the top of it. She pushed the blade through Antonios heart slowly, the blood dripping out as the once evil spirit turned sheet white and started to fade. As this was happening, he grabbed for a knife hidden in the couch cushions. Antonio had swiftly took it out of his pocket and put it in the creases of the cushions just in case something were to happen. Antonio and Ida Morris faded together leaving nothing but a pool of blood behind for someone to discover.

Present Time

We walked into the room at the end of the hall, Paisley trailed behind me. My breath catched as I pushed open the door. The wallpaper was falling off, a piece at the bottom stuck out from the wall, this kept the door open a little. All I could see was the floral carpet crusty with blood. A sword and a knife were set on the velvet couch. I looked at Paisley and she looked back at me. Did someone take their bodies? And where too? How could they disappear? There was no other evidence. Paisley’s face was pale, and I’m sure mine was too. We left the old theater at 3:17, sure that we would never go back...