I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing on the bedside table.

Hello?

I said, groggly.

You're the paranormal hunter, right?

I had the website changed, new business cards made up, and even sunk some money into an

ad campaign.

Still, all calls insisted on referring to me as the paranormal hunter, and term originally

coined by tabloid papers who made me out to be some sort of monster fighting hero.

It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't negatively affect my livelihood.

Those articles made me a laughing stock to skeptics everywhere, including the local authorities

I sought to work with an occasion.

Actually, it's paranormal consultant.

Right, sorry, I need your help.

She sounded just like the rest, scared, confused, and at the end of a rope.

I was the last call anyone made in situations like this.

A desperate cry for help when all else failed.

It is if dialing the number was some admittance of insanity.

Or worse, a confirmation that the things that go bump in the night are really out there,

waiting in the shadows to pounce on the next victims.

I'm here to help.

What can I do for you?

She let her alongside before continuing.

...