Laura's revelation

Laura sat cross-legged on the cottage floor, photos and strips of film scattered around her in haphazard piles. She held a strip up to the lantern light, squinting at tiny anomalies in the celluloid. With a magnifying glass she examined another frame, perplexed by a translucent smudge underlying the image.

What were these phantoms in the footage? In each photo taken in the enchanted glen, unexpected shapes appeared—a swirl of fog, a slim silhouette behind the trees. The anomalies recurred in the same spots, frame after frame, as if imprinted over reality itself.

Laura set aside the magnifying glass, rubbing her tired eyes. She thought back to the night in the woods when they had glimpsed the ghostly ritual, had heard the wraith beckon so seductively. She shuddered, hugging her knees. Something sinister still clung to them from that encounter.

The phone jangled, startling Laura from her reverie. She crossed to the kitchen table and picked up the bulky receiver.