100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #47. Occult 5.

 There's me, finally, Larry Nahinu. A very reluctant Kahuna who didn't want the life but had no choice.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #46. Occult 4.

 Officer Reginald Kahl loved the ocean, especially since he began working in the newly created occult division.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #45. Occult 3.

After the powers that be reamed Officers Kahl and Gushiken sideways from Sunday, Chaplain Oku'u spoke on their behalf when the time came.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #44. Occult 2.

 The way that possessions are being portrayed in the media, and by media, I mean the internet, social media, and film, is that the holy person who has been called to address the entity causing the possession always ends up being possessed themselves, because of some moral transgression from their past that has never been truly resolved.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #43. Occult.

Of course, there's no official occult division within the confines of the Honolulu Police Department because, as far as we know, there have never been any occult killings or unsolved occult murders. So, why would they bother with me, of all people?

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #41. Molly.

 Molly Riley moved to the islands twenty years ago after purchasing an acreage of land on which she and her husband had a house built, to which they subsequently moved themselves and their family. The fact that more people brought up land around them and built their own dwellings made Molly feel safe about having neighbors nearby. The land was on the island of Kaua'i. Much protest was created by the Hawaiians and the locals because, throughout history, it was proven that the land was an ancient burial ground. However, developers and the powers that be suddenly become deaf and blind in those matters. Molly's husband, Richard, was one of those developers, and he had more than a hand involved in the machinations of what he and his investors hoped would be a sprawling neighborhood. By the time Richard was killed in a freak accident, much of the sacred land had been tilled, turned over, and rented asunder by the development.

On the contrary, Molly fell in love with the culture, people, food, and lifestyle. She enrolled her children in a Hawaiian language immersion school and took a few classes herself. She tried to get Richard involved as much as possible, but all his attention was focused on development. At the same time, something about the estate felt off. Molly could not pinpoint a particular thing, but something felt wrong. There was a constant feeling of uneasiness, especially at night. Her children insisted on sleeping in the same room with the lights on. Even the nanny walked around with her crucifix in her fingers, rubbing on it and praying silently. 

One morning on the job site, a sinkhole appeared out of nowhere and took a few pieces of heavy equipment and Richard. The equipment was recovered, but Richard's body was never found. Simultaneously, things became more pronounced at the Riley estate. Molly and the children would hear disembodied voices in Hawaiian, calling their names or pitiful wailing and moaning. Most disturbing were the manifestations of people standing stoically about the house and then disappearing. It was only when the spirits began to physically do things that Molly felt enough was enough, so she sought help from the Hawaiian and local community. When the community realized where she lived and who she was, they refused to help. She was shunned by the other parents at her children's school, and people would not even look at her in public. Only through one of her children's kumu from a chat window online was she finally able to find help.

So, leaving her children in the care of their nanny, Molly flew to Oahu. After procuring her rent-a-car, she used the online map to find the address where she needed to go. 

"That's my story," Molly said. "I hope you can help me."

Tiny looked at Ivan, who looked at Rita, who looked at Boy.

 "Everyone in the state, Hawaiian or not, knows that the land there is an ancient burial ground, a massive one. I'm not sure how you couldn't have known that?" Boy said.

"My late husband Richard handled everything," Molly said. "We just packed up and moved; that was my contribution to the plan."

"He's the one that was on the news that got sucked into that sinkhole with the bulldozers and everything else?" Boy wanted to confirm. 

"Yes," too tired and exhausted to hide her emotions, Molly let her tears fall. "I had a memorial erected on that spot. It's his final resting place."

"So, what do you need from me, Molly?" Boy leaned forward, pouring some whiskey into a shot glass he handed her.

Taking the shot and throwing it back, Molly took a second to let it burn down her throat. "I need someone to bless my estate and make these spirits go away and leave us alone,"

"Molly, I can't help you," Boy said, making sure Molly looked him in the eye.

"What do you mean?" Molly was incredulous. "You can't do a simple blessing to get rid of these spirits?"

"This is beyond your comprehension; I can't help you because your entire estate is built on burial grounds. Which means these are spirits that are attached to the land. We as the living are supposed to adjust for them, not the other way around."

"It's not as if it's a cemetery or a graveyard; as you just said, it's burial grounds," Molly began to be upset.

"It's the same thing. Just because there are no headstones doesn't mean it's less important. Ancient Hawaiian ancestors are buried there. Like your ancestors, they are buried in their graveyards and cemeteries. You even erected a memorial to your husband on that same piece of land. I'm surprised you haven't seen the irony in that." Boy concluded. "You want all the spiritual activity to stop? Tear down your estate or move somewhere else. That's my advice."

~

In less than a year, Molly sold the estate and moved to Oahu. She found a nice place on the slopes of Makiki for herself, her children, and her nanny. Life was as usual every day. She didn't begrudge Boy's advice, because he spoke to her with compassion and not judgement but with a bit of strictness, like a father. On Kaua'i and throughout the Hawaiian archipelago, the battle continues. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #40. Building.

The building on the corner of Kina'u and Maikiki sat unoccupied for a long time, but the building and its grounds never aged.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #39. Possessed Ten Million.

The prize was ten million dollars.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #38. Unbless.

 The most interesting thing about blessing a place is sometimes having to do the opposite—remove the sanctity from a location.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #37. Amaya.

 In 1984, Damien Medeiros graduated high school with no honors, distinctions, or mentions of achievements. He just graduated as an average everyday student who fulfilled the requirements to receive his diploma after four years of high school.

---

Afterward, at the exhibition hall, everyone stood in their assigned spots, waiting to be congratulated by family and friends. No one came to see Damien except for his parents and a few of his teachers. There were people he talked to in school, but none wanted to delve beyond casual conversations. It was almost as if everyone kept Damien at arm's length. The following morning after graduation, Damien was still recovering from an overdose of soda and as much pizza as he wanted to eat. He even got to stay up for as long as he wanted, watching HBO until he couldn't keep his eyes open. It was 1 pm on a Saturday when Damien rolled out of bed. On his way to the bathroom, his father, Ezra, informed him that he would now have to get a job and help contribute to the bills and other matters. He found work at the local Taco Tyme the following day and started work that evening. In no time, Damien was promoted to swing manager, which gave him a boost in confidence he'd never had. Whenever he saw any of his former classmates in line, he'd have one of his employees service them at the cash register and just glare at them until they recognized him and greeted him. Damien would feign ignorance and pretend not to know them. 

In high school, there was Amaya Mikuni. She didn't care if anyone paid attention to her or liked her. She preferred it that way. After she received her diploma at graduation, she left and went out to a club in Waikiki, using a fake I.D. She got drunk and had sex with a random stranger, kicking him out of her hotel room once it was over. Now, a year after high school, Amaya was in danger of being kicked out of the house herself because of her party-all-night and sleep-all-day habits. On the morning that she applied at Taco Tyme, Damien sat at the beach on his day off. The store was short-staffed, and so the manager hired Amaya on the spot. If Damien had anything to do with the hiring process, Amaya's application would have been tossed in the trash once she walked out the door. 

When Damien arrived to manage his swing shift two days later, he was rooted to the spot when he saw Amaya on the line preparing Tacos and burritos. 

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Damien asked his senior customer service representative. 

"Paul hired her," the C.S.R. whispered. "She's into Black Flag and that weird Mötley Crüe band,"

"I fucking hater her," Damien nearly spat the words out of his mouth. "She hassled me all the time in high school. If she does one thing that makes her fireable, report to me, and I'll report to Paul."

Damien ignored Amaya for most of the day. That is, until her lunch break, she knocked on Damien's office door. "Hey Damien, don't you remember me from school? Amaya?"

"Yeah, I remember you," Damien made it evident that he was not thrilled to have her there.

"Listen, I know what went down between us in school, but I really need this job. If I don't do well, my folks will kick me out," Amaya pleaded. "I know I can't make up for what happened before, but I'll bust my ass while I'm here, I promise."

"We'll see," Damien stoically replied, waving her off to leave.

~

For the first three months, Damien left Amaya on the line and forbade anyone on the swing shift from showing Amaya how to do anything beyond that. All she did was wrap tacos and burritos and make salads. When the rush hit during the evening, Damien took it as an opportunity to lay into Amaya. "I thought you said you were gonna bust your ass? I don't see it!"

"I'm sorry," she would reply. "I'll do it better!"

"Then do it!" Damien antagonized her. "Do it better, faster, and cleaner!"

~

"What exactly did Amaya do to you in high school?" Danny, the store manager, asked.

"Push me, shove me, tell everyone who would listen that I had a small dick and that I was gay," Damien replied. "Stuff like that, she did it all the time, any chance she had."

"She told me that she did apologize to you and promised to work hard," Danny said. "That sounds fair. What more can you ask for?"

"You're the manager, and it was your call, but are we THAT desperate to hire people?" Damien asked.

"She's a good worker, does her job, never complains," Paul reiterated. "I'm gonna bump her up to C.S.R. starting Monday. You'll show her the ropes since you're the swing manager."

Damien's response to Paul's news was to walk across the parking lot to the nearby Golden Arches and apply for a job. He didn't care whether he had to start from the bottom up. He wasn't going to let Paul humiliate him that way. 

~

 

Initially, the Golden Arches management staff hesitated to hire Damien until something Damien said caught their attention: "There's no future in Tacos, but the Golden Arches has a hamburger college. I'd like to work toward that goal."

In less time than he could hope for, Damien was promoted to the swing manager position, and in less time than that, Damien saw Amaya standing in the line on a Friday evening. When she finally reached the front, Damien took her order while the three staff members got the food, drinks, and fries together. 

"Hey, Damien," Amaya smiled slightly.

"Amaya," Damien put on his best Basil Fawlty impression.

"Can you not sound like you just downed a bottle of penicillin or something, dude?" Amaya asked.

"I'll give it my best," Damien replied. "Good evening, Amaya! How may we service your needs tonight?"

"I'm the swing manager now," Amaya nodded with pride. "How come you left all of a sudden?"

"The lines getting long." Damien gestured behind her. "Are you gonna order something?"

"Three cheeseburgers and a large coke," Amaya replied. "That was so random. One day, you were there, and the next day, you were gone. Did something happen?"

"Ten-forty-eight is your total," Damien said while receiving Amaya's money. "Why don't you go have a seat? I'll bring your order to you."

~

Another employee ended up bringing Amaya's order to her. She sat alone for a few minutes before Damien appeared and sat on the opposite side. "Sorry for being rude, but the line lasted longer after you left. What were you saying again?"

"I just wanted to know why you left like that? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Amaya said while inhaling her burger. 

"It's because I hate you," Damien said plainly. "I've hated you since high school. See, Danny hired you on a day I was off work, but you wouldn't have gotten that job if I had been there. I would have made sure of it. He told me I had to be professional, but once I found out you were getting a promotion, I left because I hated you. In the past tense, the present tense, and all future tenses. I hate you."

"I'm shocked to hear that," Amaya was rattled by what she heard. "I thought we put all that behind us and were cool?"

"You put it behind you," Damien leaned forward. "For me, how do I put it behind me? All the teasing, leaving notes in people's lockers telling them I'm gay, or pulling chairs out from under me when I'm trying to sit in class? Or even smearing butter on my face in the cafeteria? There are even more reasons than that to hate you, but what I just said tops the list,"

"Oh man," Amaya sighed. "I really am sorry. I mean, all I can tell you is that it took my parents threatening to kick me out for me to get my shit together. I'm not the same person anymore; busting my ass and not complaining paid off. I'm in management now."

"I'm off on Thursdays and Fridays. You can come in on those days; congratulations on your management promotion. May now you can manage to go fuck yourself?" Damien got up and walked out to the parking lot, where he headed to his car, which was parked at the opposite end. He'd only managed to get the car door open when someone violently shoved him from behind. It was a 73 Plymouth Satellite Sebring with front and back bench seats. Damien went sprawling face first. He heard the door slam behind him and before he knew it, his assailant delivered punishing blows to his kidneys again, and again. Violently, turning Damien over on his back, Amaya straddled his hips and held her first up to his eye. In a flash, she pulled back, and before Damien knew it, Amaya punched him three times on his orbital bone. Through the haze of pain, Damien managed to sit up and push Amaya off him. The driver's side door was still open, so Damien put his knees up to his chest and exploded his feet into Amaya's body, sending her flying to the pavement. Sitting up now, he grabbed the door handle and slammed it toward him; a second later, the key turned in the ignition, and the car fired up; Damien kicked it in gear and pressed the peddle to the floorboard, causing the rear wheels to kick up gravel unit it caught the pavement and took off. Amaya hit her head on the pavement pretty hard, so she was having difficulty getting to her feet. She only saw a glint of red glare from the tail lights of Damien's car as it sped off into the night on Radford Drive. 

~

It's 2:28 pm in the afternoon on August 28, Wednesday 2024. Damien is sitting at the traffic light on Punchbowl facing the intersection at South King. The air conditioner in the car is off, so his windows are down, but that's not helping. Without imminent storms arriving at the archipelago, all the cool air is being sucked into the atmosphere, making it humid. The traffic light is taking too long to change, which is what happens when it is insufferably hot; the powers that be make you sit in your box of a car while the sun beats down on you like a kid getting caught smoking by his parents. Damien glanced up for a second and saw her in the middle of the crosswalk. She was older now, but that was it. She was dressed different but it was her for sure. She crossed the intersection and walked past Kawaiaha'o church until she turned right on Mission Lane. He followed as closely as he could without being suspicious. The metered parking stalls on the street were empty, so he pulled into one to make it appear as if he were going to park. The moment presented itself when she stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the road at the corner of Mission Lane and Kawaiaha'o. He had to be quick and not hesitate. He pulled out of the parking stall and pointed his car toward her, reaching 60mph in less than two seconds. He hit her from a weird angle, breaking her knees at the joints. When she landed on her face on the cross street at South, she got two fractures. One below her left cheek and the other on her orbital bone. At her age, if she survived, it would take a long while for her to recover if she didn't die from her injuries. Damien had already turned right on Queen Street, jetting off toward Ward Avenue. From there, he drove to the Ala Moana Beach Park and stayed there until an hour before closing. Nothing surfaced the next day or the following week about the accident. No eyewitnesses, so no reports. 

However, a month later, Amaya Mikuni, now Fujimoto, was on the six 'o'clock news. 

"It's been a month since my wife's accident in town, and we have no leads as to who might have struck her in that hit-and-run downtown. If anyone knows anything, please call the number on the screen. This has been a real problem in my life. First, my dog was run over, then my step-son, and now my wife. I don't know if it's bad luck or if it's one person doing all this, but if you've seen anything or have any information, please contact the authorities! We need your help!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #36. Uniform.

Kaukonahua Road. It's a long, winding road with many hairpin turns, so as you can imagine, there have been many accidents, and many ghost stories have surfaced throughout the years.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #35. Ho'omake.

One day, a hiking group traversed a trail nearby. The expert guide showed the group rare plants, native fruits, birds, and fragrant ferns.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #34. Eric

 A man named Eric purchased a home on the Big Island that once belonged to a large family that had lived there for years.