The Dark Specter - 1. Chapter 1

“Wow, creepy,” Danny said as he climbed from the passenger seat of his Dad's Mercedes saloon and took in the sight before him. The Hotel Coronado stood at the end of a long, winding driveway far away from the main road and now loomed ominously ahead of the pair.

Danny could hear the gentle lapping of the waves against the cliff far below. Apart from the sea Danny could hear nothing else which only added to the uneasy feeling he had as he looked over the old Hotel. Whilst the building still retained some of its rustic allure, closer inspection was enough to tell Danny about its current state of dis-repair. Even in the moonlight he could see the chipped paint on the facade, a least two cracked windows and a low roof with several slates missing.

"I can see why it went for so much money," said Danny's father, Steve Wagner. "Get it spruced up and people will flock to it. Great location and it has its own special kind of ambience."

"And you think it's haunted?" Danny asked, looking the building over once more. A few lights on the ground floor shone dimly but the upper floors of the Hotel stood in darkness.

Steve laughed gently. "Of course not." His Dad’s easy confidence eased his sense of foreboding and Danny silently scolded himself. At sixteen years old he knew better to believe in things like ghosts but a building like the Hotel Coronado brought his childish fears back to the surface. He tried to match his Father’s calm demeanour.

It was his Mother most people said Danny took after. Whilst his hair was blonde and his skin fair like hers, his Father was tanned, his hair thick and dark and just showing the first hint of grey at the temples. Danny was a keen athlete and had a lithe runner's frame. His Dad on the other hand had a muscular build that Danny was envious of. A broad chest, wide shoulders and defined arm and leg muscles spoke to a dedicated regimen of diet and exercise. Danny knew you needed to be fit to be a Government agent like his Father had been. He was also aware of how highly it spoke of his Dad' that he had not let his personal standards slip after leaving the Agency five years ago.

"This is a charity event,” Steve continued, “Hence why I even came in the first place. No such thing as ghosts but if it's for a good cause then we can show our face, donate some money and go on the last ever ghost tour before the builders take over.” His Father had dressed smart casual for the evening; a black polo shirt and pair of beige chinos hung tightly against his muscular frame. A large gold watch clasped tightly onto his left wrist completed the look.

“Very interesting history actually,” a voice spoke up behind the pair causing to Danny to almost leap from his skin. He wheeled around to face whoever had spoken, hoping the darkness could cover his flush of embarrassment. A smiling dark-haired teenager of similar height to him stood a couple of feet away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Either of you.”

Steve chuckled as he placed a strong hand on Danny’s shoulder, “I think he’s a little on edge,” he explained. Too many horror flicks on Netflix I guess.”

The other boy's smile grew wider as he brushed a lock of dark hair back from his brow. Danny judged the boy to be maybe a year older than him. He was taller than Danny, with a mop of dark hair and dark green eyes framed by a pair of thick rimmed glasses. He was quite handsome, Danny decided. “Harry Lane,” he said as he extended his hand. “My mom is chair of the Hotel Coronado Conservation Society. You’re here for the tour I take it?”

“That’s right,” Steve replied as he shook his hand. “Steve Wagner. This is my son, Danny.”

“Hi,” Danny said trying to manage a wry smile as he tried to forget his scare.

“Oh of course, Mr Wagner!” Harry clapped his hands together excitedly, “I was hoping you would come.”

Steve cleared his throat, his easy confidence giving way to a hint of embarrassment. “You know me then?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry laughed. “Who hasn’t heard of Steve Wagner in our little part of the world? I keep my eye on The Hopefield Chronicle every week just on the off-chance there’s a write-up about your latest adventure. Trish Porter does such a good job with those stories.”

“Miss Porter…Has a flair for the dramatic,” Steve said modestly. “It’s not quite as exciting as she makes out.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Harry continued eagerly. “Let’s see now…there was ‘The Curse of the Inca Piece’, ‘Disappearance at Farpoint, ‘The Clue of the Cypress Stump’…

Danny suppressed a snort. His Father wasn’t being entirely truthful, most of Trish’s stories actually left a few details out so they weren’t labelled as pure fantasy by her readers. She really needed to pick better titles though. He decided to tell her as much next time he saw her.

“And I understand you’ve been getting in on the action too,” Harry turned to Danny. “Taking after your Father by the sounds of it. If I remember right you even helped him escape from the fire at the old Mill.

“That’s right,” Danny replied, his earlier embarrassment now forgotten at the mention of his recent bout of heroics. Unlike his Dad he didn’t mind a little bit of praise and was quite eager to impress Harry. The smugglers had knocked his father out with chloroform, tied him up and set the mill on fire with Steve still inside. Danny had managed to get him free just in time.

“Like I said,” Steve cut in, stopping any further stroking of Danny’s ego, “A flair for the dramatic.” His voice remained warm and friendly but his tone suggested he would rather talk about something else.

Harry took the cue. “It’s not too often something exciting happens in our little city.”

“I understand,” Steve said with a smile. “Interesting stories are hard to come by.”

“Or interesting men,” Harry replied before apparently realising what he had said. He turned away abruptly and pointed to the Hotel, “Well, yes, as I was saying, very interesting history.”

Steve had either not noticed Harry's slip or else had chosen to ignore it as they fell in step beside him. “Oh? The building was abandoned not long after I was born. Always heard the stories growing about it being haunted but never believed them.”

“It was built a few years before the start of the Civil War and was actually used as a field hospital by Union Forces at one point.”

“And that’s where the ghosts come in?” Danny guessed.

Harry shrugged. “Perhaps. The main story I’ve heard from the local paranormal society is about a woman who threw herself from the cliffs.”

“Why?” Danny asked.

“She was married to a man whose family owned the Hotel. The pair lived here until he fell ill and passed. The woman threw herself into the sea the night he died.”

“And now she haunts this place?” Danny ventured.

“Apparently so. Quite the presence too,” said Harry. “Or so Doctor Foster tells me anyway.”

“What do you mean, presence?” Steve asked.

“Well from what I’m told most encounters are quite mild; odd noises, strange breezes, maybe someone claiming to have actually seen some sort of ghostly figure. Here the results are much more….intense. Such experiences are magnified, objects are thrown, people too. Recently at least one person has claimed he was physically attacked by a woman in a black lace dress.”

Steve laughed softly and Danny followed suit. Harry dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Between the three of us I don’t believe in all this ghost nonsense.”

“But you organized the tour,” Danny said in surprise.

Harry nodded. “ My mother did. She can't make it tonight but she thought the tours were a good way to raise money to fund the conservation efforts. We had hoped we had raised enough to to buy the deed and restore the place but we couldn’t match the price the Halliday Group were offering.”

“The building firm?” Steve asked.

Harry sighed. “Most of the building will get torn down to make way for some sort of factory.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Steve.

Harry said nothing further as he led them into the entrance foyer. A mahogany reception desk stood to their left. A couple of pitchers of water and a few glasses were its only feature. A grand staircase dominated the room. The landing at its peak was pitch black.

A small man, bespectacled and balding, somewhere in his late fifties walked over to them. “Steve, Danny, this is Doctor Foster, head of the Hopefield Paranormal society. Doctor Foster this is Steve Wagner and his son Danny.”

“Ah yes, Steve Wagner, ‘The Hero of Hidden Harbour’, that’s what the papers called you isn’t it?”

“Yes," Steve said with a tight smile. "Something like that.” Danny bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself laughing out loud.

“Well, glad you could make it. All for a good cause, eh?”

“Yeah,” Steve said as he looked about the room. “Decent crowd. All members of your group, Doctor Foster?”

Foster guffawed. “Most of the people here are members of the Conservation society or local business owners,” Harry explained.

“I’m afraid our numbers have been dwindling in the last few months,” Foster said, cutting back in to the conversation. “We look for the Paranormal and then when confronted with real evidence of what we are actually seeking they piss themselves and never come back.”

“Yes, I understand there’s quite a bit of activity here lately,” Steve replied. Danny caught Harry eye as he winked at him. Danny felt himself go red and done his best to pay attention as Foster outlined all the recent experiences to his Father. To his credit Steve appeared to be showing an interest in what the other man was saying.

Harry let him continue for a couple of minutes before taking the chance to cut-in. “Doctor, I’m sure Steve and Danny would like a chance to look around and there’s other guests who are keen to meet you.” He favoured Steve an Danny with a final smile as he ushered Foster away.

Steve squeezed his son’s shoulder, “Scared yet?”

Danny scoffed, “Should I be? After all, I have the Hero of the Hidden Harbour to protect me.”

His Father laughed, “That’s right. Although I should warn you, the first sign of some demonic hellspawn and you’re on your own."

His Dad’s teasing earned an equally loud laugh from Danny and a stern look from Dr Foster.“May I remind you this is a serious paranormal investigation?” said the ghost hunter.

“Sorry,” Danny said with sufficient gravitas to satisfy Foster. Beside him Steve sighed and checked his watch, “Could be a long night,” Danny agreed guessing Father's thoughts.

The sound of glass smashing caused the group as one to jump. Danny turned to see a small pile of shards lying at the front of the reception desk and not one person within five feet of it.

Foster looked strangely triumphant as he brushed past. “Tonight just might be the night,” he muttered.

However, after the initial excitement of the falling glass had died and the would-be ghost hunters had sufficiently calmed down, Danny’s interest began to wane once more. Even once the tour began there was little excitement. Foster was a bore and a pretentious one at that. The first portion of the tour had been a guided walk around the ground floor and an explanation of the equipment he and his team would be using.

Harry meanwhile had re-joined them and had stuck close by his Father’s side throughout the first stage of the tour. As they entered the ballroom Danny wandered off from the pair of them and glanced around the large, empty space.

It would have been pretty once, the ceiling had been intricately painted with beautiful patterns. But like the rest of the Hotel it’s attractiveness was long in the past; the paint was chipping and he could spot several patches of damp along the tops of the walls.

Along the room there were a number of portraits, paintings of what Danny assumed were family members of the owners. Stuffy and boring and - “Oh my God!” Danny exclaimed in surprise. “Dad!”

His Father looked up in surprise, ready to face whatever hellish creature from the depths of the underworld had risen. Instead he found his son pointing at a painting on the far wall of the Ballroom. Grabbing his left wrist Danny dragged Steve across the room. Harry following close behind.

“Danny! What’s wrong?” He asked as he looked up at the painting his son had pulled him over to. It was of a man and a woman, dressed in a style of clothing that went out of fashion at least two hundred years ago.

“Dad, look!”

“Look at what exac-wow….” He saw it now Danny knew. Dark haired, flint jawed and somewhere in his mid-forties, the man in the painting looking back at them was the double of his Father.

“My goodness,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t have noticed but now you point it out…..Wow…”

“”Who are they?” Danny asked him.

“Ah, that is Gabrielle Stobbart, and her husband Jeremy. His family owned the Hotel.”

“Ah yes, Mrs Stobbart,” Foster said as he joined the trio. “It is said to be her spirit who haunts this building, wailing for her lost love. I belie-Oh my!” The Doctor stopped in wonderment, glancing between Steve and the man in the painting. “Incredible…”

“Yeah,” said Steve. “Weird…” A number of other guests had followed Doctor Foster over to the painting and were now looking from Danny’s Father, to the painting and back to Steve. He cleared his throat, “Anyway… time to move on.” No one budged. He coughed again.

“Hold on Dad,” Danny said trying to hide his smirk. “This needs some study.”

“It is quite the coincidence,” Harry offered, enjoying the peculiar happenstance as much as Danny.

“Doctor,” said Steve. “Don’t you have a tour to lead?” He tapped the face of his watch for emphasis.

“Hmm...Oh right, yes.” Foster began to move away but did not take his eyes away from the painting until he almost tripped over the feet of one of the other guests. He apologised quickly before glancing back at the painting once more.

“Pretty creepy Dad,” Danny offered. Foster was beginning to usher the guests back out toward the Reception area and the three of them joined the back of the group.

His Father gave Danny’s hair a playful ruffle, “Laugh it up,” he said shaking his head.

“It’s a good story to tell your friends about at least,” said Harry.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Doctor Foster called out, bringing the attention of the room to him. “That is the first portion of the tour complete. We have introduced you to the Hotel and its history. In a few minutes we will be moving to the first floor where the majority of previous paranormal activity has been encountered.” He looked to where Danny was standing, “In case anyone needs reminding this is a scientific investigation and you will be expected to act accordingly.”

Danny looked away. Foster had scolded him once, he didn’t know why he felt the need to do it again. “…will be using actual paranormal recording tools,” Foster continued talking but Danny was no longer listening.

“Don’t worry about him,” Harry said brightly. “He’s a stuffy old man. Probably hasn’t laughed at anything in years.” Danny nodded as he turned to his Father, “How are you finding it so far Mister Wagner? Over the shock of the paint-”

His question stopped in mid-sentence as the lights above began to flicker.

“That’s….weird.”

“Old building,” Steve replied. “I doubt the electrics are up to scratch these days.”

“Is it just me, or did it get colder in here?” Danny asked as a shiver crept up his spine. It was a mild night, and he had been comfortable dressed in a sweater and jeans but he had felt the temperature drop significantly and suddenly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Foster called out as the gathered guests exchanged a few tense murmurs. “It could very well be the case that Paranormal activity will be encountered, or perhaps already has been.” Whilst a sense of trepidation fell over the majority of the group Foster seemed to be almost buoyant with excitement.

Danny watched as Harry moved beside his Father, taking a hold of his left forearm.

“AAAIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

Once again the tour group jumped as one as a bone chilling screech filled the hotel lobby. Heads turned toward the source. A few people screamed at the sight before them; the ghostly spectre of a woman clad in black hovered over the rail over the rail.

Danny swallowed hard, taking a step back toward where his Father and Harry stood.

“My love!” The ghost called. The anguish it carried in its voice was unearthly “I knew you would return.”

“My god,” someone close to Danny managed to whisper as more people screamed. No one had made for the exit. As one the group had seem to freeze, spellbound by the supernatural scene.

The spectre glided over the rail and down toward them. Slowly at first, her movement almost seemed serene. She stopped in mid-air and looked over the group. Her eyes rested on where Danny stood with Harry and his Father.

“My love.”

She came forward once more but now moved with unerring speed. Danny heard his father let out a strange, almost pained gasp.

It was upon them now. Harry shouted in alarm, letting go of Steve’s arm as the spectre reached for him. Danny watched in horror as his Father offered no resistance, his body going limp as soon as the spectre touched him. Effortlessly the ghost caught his Father’s unconscious body, easily scooping him into her arms as if he were weightless.

With his Father in her arms, the ghost turned away from Danny. It was enough to snap him from his reverie. Any creeping thoughts of fear were forgotten as he charged the ghost only to be pulled back. It was Harry, holding his arm tightly, “No Danny! Stay back!”

“Get off me!” Danny shouted but it was already too late. With an unnatural grace the ghost rose above the fearful crowd, floating back to the balcony over the lobby. The screams had stopped now, for the most part. A few whimpered in fear but everyone was watching the scene unfold with a horrified fascination. The ghost turned slowly with Steve. Danny willed his father to do something but he was clearly out cold. His arms dangled limply with the motion of the carry.

“Leave!” The command was an ear bursting screech and was enough to jolt the guests below into a blind panic. No one who fled looked back as they jostled with each other to reach the doors.

Danny pulled away from Harry once more as he fought against the retreating crowd. By the time he got clear, the ghost and his Father had disappeared into the darkness above.

“Dad!”