“Hey Honey! Your dad and I just made port so I JUST got a signal. Listen, I know grandpa left you the business in his will but I think we both know that if he was in his right mind in the end he would have given it to your father and I, so we need you to be a good boy and just sign it over to us. Oh! And Dad and I could really use the money he mistakenly left you, so can you go ahead and wire that to us? Thank you sweetie. Hope you're well. We're going to a local beach bar with this couple from cabin 3. Love you. Miss you.”
That's what the email that my mother wrote me said. I immediately deleted it. She's out of her mind as usual, Greg too. My grandparents put everything into this business. Built it from nothing. And they only want to sell it. For what? To fund some wanderlust swingers cruise or whatever they're doing this time? Yeah right.
Anyway, my name is Josh and I am now the owner and proprietor of Burbeck Estate Solutions™. We take care of the estate of the recently departed as a service to the family.
Like I said, my grandparents built and ran this business together for over 50 years. And they had me tag along when I was a kid, as they practically raised me, so I've been a part of it my whole life as well.
They passed a few months back and I dropped
everything to fly back home to be here for the funeral. It was a surprise when I was left pretty much everything in the will, but I’ve been doing my best to make sure I’m taking care of everything like they’d want me to. Saying goodbye was rough though. I haven't slept well or felt like myself since I got back. My therapist says I'm depressed and suggested I start journaling to process my grief so I figured I'd start an online journal. Who knows, maybe things will get crazy and I’ll end up with a friend or two. Plus my job is kind of unique and I know for a fact that none of you will be able to find me so I’ll go ahead and spill the beans a little bit on my line of work.
Basically when someone passes away their family or the estate takes what they want from their belongings and then we come in and take care of what's left. We sell anything that's worth something, get rid of the junk, and properly process the more… hazardous materials. Now that hazardous material could be as simple as used oil or it could be a puzzlebox that summons beings from another plane that drag you away and torture you forever. You really just never know what you're going to get into. Welp. Now that that's out of the way I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Got a new intern starting and I want to make a good impression this time.
1-12 | Monday
My alarm was set for 5 am so I could get everything ready for my new intern’s first day, but I awoke an hour early to the sound of metallic scraping and someone grunting downstairs in the parking lot. My first thought was that some junkie was stealing my car. I shot out of my room, down the stairs and through the storefront to the front doors.
I burst out to the mostly open parking lot and immediately discovered the source of the noise. In a parking spot right up front was a pair of legs sticking out from under a minivan that looks like it was made from other less fortunate minivans.
“The hell are you doing under there?”
The unmistakable thud of a skull smacking into an undercarriage and pained groan followed. The thin kid slid out from under on a piece of cardboard, rubbing his forehead with a pained expression that turned into a wide dumb grin when he saw me.
“Mr. Burbeck! Good morning! I know I'm a little early but my starter was going to give out any day now and I didn't want to be late so I figured I'd just change it here.
Besides, the flood lights are great for engine work.”
Wiping the sleep from my eyes I spotted a dark liquid beginning to pool from under the car. “Starter huh? Is that what's causing you to bleed your car dry on the pavement?”
“Ah shit! I'm sorry sir! I'll get that cleaned up right away—”
"What's your name again?”
“T…Toby, sir.”
“Toby, right. Well as your first task as the Burbeck intern, go into the storage closet around the corner, grab the cat litter and clean this up. I can't have stains all over the parking lot. When you're done, come in out of the cold."
“Right! Yes sir! Right away sir!” he stammered as he sprinted off.
“And stop calling me sir,” I yelled. “…I’m only 24 for Christ sake,” I muttered under my breath.
It wasn’t 20 minutes later I heard the shop bell ring as he entered, blowing into his cupped hands. “Nice shop you got here siirr….uh…Josh.”
He walked towards the counter taking stock of the unique variety my shop provides, cramped aisles flowing with stagnant inventory. For the first time, I really looked at him. He was about 5’7 160 pounds. He said he was 18 but he looks 12, messy brown hair poking out from under his dirty hat and a little mustache that was trying its best on his top lip. He has old skate shoes, jeans with a hole in the knee and a hoodie with a picture of 2 guys faces melding together with some script above it. Maybe it was a metal band or something? I don't know.
“Thanks man. My grandparents put a lot of love into it,” I replied, handing over a cup of coffee I poured for him.
“So tell me why you answered the ad. Why do you want to intern for me?”
He took an appreciative sip. “Well my dad's threatening to kick me out if I don't do something with my life and to be honest, I've heard rumors about the place pretty much all through high school and it sounded like a cool place to work.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Rumors? About this place? Like what?”
He swirled his coffee nervously. “Well I heard that you are a vampire creature that's hoarding evil objects to gain power.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Well just a guess, it could be the dark circles around your eyes and nobody really sees you do anything around town, or interact with anyone. At least that's what I heard.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Well that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. That's not even how vampires work, but okay. Is that it?”
“No. There also some kids who said you might be working for the government, finding supernatural or extra terrestrial objects for them to study to create superweapons. And then there's….the gray man.”
“The gray man?”
Toby leaned in close. “People say he's an extra dimensional or possibly demonic entity that your grandparents trapped and forced to work for them. Others think maybe he was haunting them. I've even heard that if you get on his bad side, he'll come to you in your dreams and torment you.”
I rolled my eyes. This kid’s gonna be a headache. I leaned over the counter, grabbed the field manual, and shoved it toward him. “Here. This is a little something I put together to help you get the hang of everything. It's the basic rules and procedures you'll need to learn. Look over it when you can, I promise it’ll be easier than learning the hard way.”
I looked into the parking lot and saw a familiar utility van pulling in. “Ope. Looks like Viktor's here. Come on. I'll introduce you.”
I headed to the docking area to open the garage door. Toby leaned in, whispering. “Wait, is that the guy?”
“What guy?” I asked as I pulled on the chain to raise the door.
“Is that the gray man that's all over the forums?”
I let go of the chain and faced Toby, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Look kid. Don't go around calling him the gray man. His name’s Viktor and he's been working here longer than I've been alive.”
I looked over at an old picture hanging by the bay door my grandparents took when they bought the building 50 years back and sure enough, there was Viktor looking exactly the same as I've always known him to look. The van pulled around outside and I started considering how little I actually knew about him. I've never heard him speak a single word. He's grunted though. I'm pretty sure he's got a Russian accent—I've only ever heard him grunt but he definitely grunts in a Russian accent.
“He's a good guy, a hard worker and he knows this job inside and out. I've never seen him hurt anyone, but I still wouldn't push it.”
Toby was listening intently when suddenly his eyes went wide and he lost all color. I turned around to find Viktor approaching. His grayish complexion, bald head and blue jumpsuit are a staple of this business.
“Morning Viktor.” I turned to the kid. ”Toby, this is Viktor.”
Viktor grunted and Toby sheepishly waved.
“Now help Viktor load up. We're leaving in 5. I'm going to get the paperwork and we'll hit the road.”
Toby looked at me and Viktor nervously before obliging and heading to the boxes without fully turning his back to the man. I went to the office and printed the three jobs, grabbed my smokes and keys, and ran back downstairs.
Viktor was checking the seal of our lead lined box with his thumb, checking for any cracks. When he was satisfied he moved onto his axe, running the same thumb down its edge to check for sharpness. He looked like he hadn't even looked at Toby since I left, but Toby had clearly not taken his eyes off of Viktor. I admit I found it funny.
Viktor loaded the last of his equipment and Toby and I headed to my car and set off for our first job. On the way there, Toby decided to get to the bottom of some pressing issues.
“That's totally him. Oh my god that's so cool. Did you hear the way he grunted? Is he a ghost? Or a zombie? Or is he a vampire?” He looked at me with wide eyes like he’d just solved some great mystery. “Is that why you know how vampires work?”
“Okay kid, rule number 1: this is a job. Not an adventure. We're here to get work done, not unravel some internet conspiracy. Now if you can't handle that, I need you to tell me now before we both end up wasting our time. Are you good with rule 1?”
“Yes sir. I'm sorry. I'm just really excited.”
“Well that's okay, we just need a base level of professionalism, deal?”
“Deal!”
“Good, so here is the quick and dirty of the job. When we get to there we sort all of the belongings into one of three colors. Green, red and black. We have rolls of stickers that correspond. The green stickers go on valuables that we can sell, red goes on junk and black….well we probably won't need them on the first house, so we'll get into that later.”
We pulled onto the street and Toby's eyes lit up. “Josh! Look at the size of these houses!” He was glued to the windows like a kid seeing Christmas lights for the first time.
“We call them mini mansions. They'll lose their allure after a while. You'll see.”
“Are you kidding me? Look at these things! …what do you think they put in all those rooms?”
“I don't know. They're pretty cleaned out by the time we usually get to them.”
I parked the car in front of the house as Viktor pulled the van into the driveway with the shredder in tow. It was a nice two story 6 bed 3 ½ bath with a well manicured lawn and hedgerow. The sun was warming up the chilly morning air as we stepped out.
“Grab those rolls and follow me.”
Day light illuminated the dusty interior of the foyer. Stairs to the left and right led to the second floor and between the two was an archway leading to the rest of the house. I showed Toby the basics of judging red objects from green and let him loose.
“If you're unsure of anything, leave it blank. I'd make my final sweep through and tag any critical or static class items appropriately.”
He was acting like everything had a spirit attached to it or had some chilling history behind it. I could hear him narrating his own little discovery show to himself. Unfortunately his excitement left him after the third time I had to point out the Homegoods price tag on the back of an “antique Victorian oil painting”.
The whole house only took us about 2 hours. Viktor was his usual inhumanly efficient self, dragging a sofa behind him while shouldering a replica suit of armor. This seemed to throw Toby off. He probably thought I was pulling his leg about how strong Viktor is. We finished up with a nice washer and dryer and an antique shoe shining kit.
We got into the car and I asked Toby what he thought so far. He shrugged his shoulders while looking out the window. “It seems like we're just moving old stuff out of people's houses. It's not exactly what I was expecting.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. That's about the long and short of it really. There IS more to it than that, but in the mean time,” I put the rulebook in his lap, “you should thumb through this. You'll thank me when it saves you from going blind or dying.”
He gave me a look like he didn't believe me but half heartedly opened it and started skimming. We drove across town to the country, down a dirt road to an old farm house. A lot like the one my grandparents had but less maintained. Chipped paint and such. We got out and the sky had gone overcast.
“What's with that tree?” Toby asked, stretching his back.
“What tree?”
“Right there. Its got black leaves.”
I looked in the direction he was pointing. It was a tree in the back yard of the house, poking over the roof. “Nah, that's not leaves. It's birds. Probably crows."
"What? No way. That'd have to be like hundreds of crows.”
I squinted to get a better look. “Yeah, probably hundreds.”
The sound of the van pulling behind was our cue. Toby grabbed the stickers and we started making our way through the yard towards the house. We got about halfway there when the crows in the back yard started leaving their perch and flying overhead.
“This is getting spooky Josh.”
“Now don't get too excited. Remember what the handbook said and don't touch anything that looks out of place. Or anything that looks too mundane.”
We breached the front door, sealed with wood and nails, with Viktor's help. This house was a stark contrast to the last. It looked almost untouched. The air was thick with a mildewy funk. The front door opened to the living room, beyond that was a small kitchen and a dining room table, and to the other side was a hallway that led to closed doorways. It looked like the house was placed in a murky pond for a while and then put back and just left here.
We turned on some headlamps and I pulled Toby aside. “I’m gonna have you start stickering on your own again. You start in here, I'll head to the back of the house and we can meet in the middle. Not gonna lie, probably not a lot of green stickers on here, but its a paying job so we'll be as thorough as every other house.”
He nodded and we went our separate ways. I went to the back room and opened the door to the master bedroom.
A king sized bed with slashes and blood soaked into it, a dresser and nightstands with melted candles, wax dripped into the rug. The TV seemed fine though. The dressers only had clothes and a..personal massager.
There was a vase that might be worth something. The dagger looked genuine, but you could see the seams from the machine pressing on the hilt and “made in china” on the blade. My attention went back to the blue and white vase. I was trying to figure out what about it had me questioning its worth when a scream snapped me from my train of thought.
“JOSH!”
“OH GOD HELP!”
I followed the screaming with my arms around the vase. I turned the corner to see what the commotion was about. The temperature dropped 20 degrees instantly. Toby was on his back, heels digging into the carpet as he was trying to scramble away from the entity that was crawling its way out of an open jewelry box towards him. It looked like the burnt top of a girl around 9 years old. The body was translucent and transformed at the hips to wisps that connected it to the music box and if I looked at her I could hear a loud ringing in my head. The box was playing some dissonant version of whatever song it originally played and the ballerina was spinning in front of the open lid.
I walked over and closed it with my foot, and turned to look at Toby as the ghost retreated to the box and the temperature returned to normal.
Rubbing my temples I turned to him. “You alright?” He was shocked white. I figured the creepy stories and conspiracy forums would have prepared him somewhat but he was 10 seconds shy of pissing himself and I honestly couldn't blame him. He was still looking at the box.
“Hey man up here. You okay?” He looked at me with his mouth open but no words came out. “This is why we read the rulebook.” “I think I'm going to be sick,” he finally muttered. “Tell you what, go help Viktor outside with the shredder and I'll wrap up in here.” He stood up and bolted outside like he thought the roof was going to cave in. It must have really shaken him if hanging out with Viktor is preferable. Clearing the rest of the house was a breeze, despite the stale mildewy air. I had gotten word that they were gonna level the place anyway so there was no need to clean out.
Toby still hadn't said much when we were all packed in. He was looking out his windows when I got into the car. “You okay kid?” I asked checking my email for the next address. “Yeah. I'm okay.” He murmured in a downcast tone. “You sure? You could talk to me about what happened there. A class 1 haunting isn't usually dangerous but it can be jarring your first time.” I replied.
“It's not that. I mean it is. Kinda.” He turned to face me. “I've been learning and reading about this stuff since I was a kid. People have always called me a freak but I didn't care because I knew it was my calling. Catching ghosts and solving paranormal mysteries has been my dream, but when I saw that thing I turned into a ....” He turned around. “I don't know. I froze and you just dealt with it like it was nothing and now I feel like I wasted all that time.”
I was taken aback by this. I think this is the first real thing I've heard this kid say and it was like this was my first time seeing the real him. “Look Toby. It doesn't happen overnight, and I hate to sound like a broken record, but if you study that rulebook like your life depends on it, you'll be able to deal with way worse stuff than that in no time.”
He looked back at me horrified. “There's worse than that? How? She didn't have eyes!..she told me things about me that she couldn't have known!” I didn't hear any of that but it clearly had telepathic abilities. “Oh yeah! There's plenty worse. There's things that can swap its soul for yours, trapping you in like a teddy bear or something. Uhhh let's see…there's genies, those are real. But you HAVE to make the three wishes and they always backfire in the worst ways possible. Oh! There was a painting that was actually a gateway to a hellish other dimension. Or maybe the..” I was cut short by his horrified expression that told me I'd said too much. I cleared my throat and looked back at my phone.
“Sorry.”
He quietly turned his attention out his window as a new email hit my inbox with the familiar missing sender that read “forensic cleaners still working the next location. Job pushed till tomorrow. Pickup push to tonight.” I sighed. I hated when they moved pickup dates.
“Good news Toby. The next job has been pushed till tomorrow, so we're done for today.” He stayed silent as I started the car and headed back to the store with Viktor not far behind. The drive back was quiet. If I could turn the radio on I would but the interference from the black label items makes it pointless.
We pulled into the parking lot. “You coming back tomorrow?” I figured it was easier getting right to the point. He pulled the rulebook onto his lap and muttered a “yeah” before sliding out of the car and to his van. Within a minute he had cranked the car and left the parking lot just as Viktor was pulling in.
I opened the store and met him at the docking bay with the lead lined box in tow. We made short work of categorizing, sorting and labeling all of our green label items and he put them on the sales floor.
“You think he's coming back?” I was pricing the TV we brought back and Viktor gave me no response as usual. That was the moment when I realized I kind of liked having someone around to talk to. Viktor listens, sure, but having someone actually respond to what I was saying was something I didn't realize I had missed having around. I don't even remember the last time I had an actual conversation with another person. “I hope he comes back. He did pretty good considering.”
We wrapped at about 9:00 and the pickup wasn't until midnight. “I'll be upstairs, just ring when they get here,” I hollered to Viktor, receiving a grunt in return. After a few hours of bookkeeping I had neglected lately, I heard the buzzer go off.
They were almost here.
I closed my laptop, took a deep breath and prepared myself before heading downstairs to meet Viktor who was waiting for me by the heavy warehouse door.
I remember the first time I saw it after my grandparents had it put in. All the numbers and the scanners. The sheer weight of it alone let me know it was keeping some very important stuff behind it. Now I just find the whole thing annoying to deal with. The weekly ritual of putting my code in on the keypad, scanning my thumb, and then Viktor doing his retinal scan has become more of a chore than it should. But we do it like we do every week and after a moment the locks open in quick succession and Viktor finally opens the heavy door.
The dark quiet warehouse came to life when we stepped in and the motion sensors kicked the bright lights on.
There were rows of wooden crates stacked at least 15 feet tall making a checker board lattice pattern of the warehouse and safety lockboxes lining the walls. Our footsteps echoed throughout the room while we made our way towards the back. We reached the rear of the room where there was only smooth glossy concrete and a heavy lead chest that Viktor had placed there for convenience. There was a yellow line between us and the box that only Viktor is allowed to cross and ONLY to deposit the items into the box.
“Go ahead and put today's stuff in before they get here,” I told him. He took a small metal box he was carrying and placed it on the ground next to the chest. He knelt down and opened both the box and chest with ease and transferred the music box we procured earlier before closing both and walking back to stand at my flank.
Not a moment had passed before the roll-up garage door hissed open. A familiar black armored truck drove in, pivoted, and then backed up to where we were standing. The back doors opened, letting out fog and the hiss of a broken seal.
Two armored guards with automatic rifles slung across their backs stepped out first, moving with mechanical precision to flank the truck doors. Then, a third figure climbed down. He wasn’t a soldier; he was wearing a sterilized white lab suit that looked out of place against the greasy warehouse floor. He looked terrified, his eyes darting around the shadows of the crates, his hands shaking as he gripped a high-tech scanner. One of the guards gave him a rough shove toward the lead chest, and the man stumbled forward, sheepish and pale.
The scientist hovered nearby, holding his scanner over the open chest like he was afraid something was going to jump out and grab him. He started scanning the items as Viktor transferred them one by one. First was the music box, then a doll, an antique revolver, and a hand mirror.
Lastly, and most painfully, was an N64 cartridge of The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask. I remember playing my older brother's copy when we were kids. We played a lot when he got sick. It seemed to be the only time he was happy, showing me some new secret or something. I’d inherited it after he passed, but somewhere through the years it was either stolen or lost. This was the first copy I’d seen since, and of course, it had to be possessed.
The scientist’s device chirped as he scanned the cartridge, and he scrambled to get it into their high-tech containment box, which was covered in lights and digital gauges.
“Packages secure. Prep for evac,” a guard barked, his voice distorted by his face mask.
The scientist didn't wait. He practically ran back into the fog-filled truck with the containment box. The guards followed, their rifles never wavering, and slammed the doors shut. The garage door rolled up on its own, the truck pulled out, and the warehouse went back to being just a cold, quiet room full of crates. We stood there in the silence for a long moment, the only sound the distant hum of the motion sensors and the ticking of the cooling truck exhaust that had lingered in the air. I let out a long, heavy breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.
We started walking back towards the shop. “Oh! We're starting a little late tomorrow. I have to try to get some sleep so be here at eight instead.”
Viktor grunted in agreement as he walked out the door. I'm in bed now, and I hope I can get some sleep. The shop is locked up, and I guess I'll see if Toby comes back tomorrow. I hope so.