Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Aug 3, 2016

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down 'Til Halloween! 88 Nights Left! "Pratt Fall"

Pratt Foley was much too old to be playing the Poke’mon game by anyone’s standards but Pratt was a 45 year old man with the soul of a 12 year old boy. The apartment that he’d lived in since he graduated high school was right up the road on Makiki street. It was very well kept which was unusual for a bachelor his age, but stranger things have happened. His job was simple, he was an overnight nurse at Queen’s hospital but on his off time he indulged himself in frivolous activities. The latest being the Pokemon game. 

One night Pratt discovered that the masonic temple down the street from his building was a Poke’mon stop; he couldn’t resist. In a short time he found himself outside the front door of the beautifully ornate building which was guarded by two enormous golden lions. The interior of the masonic lodge was dark but he could see that one of the double doors was slightly askew. Suddenly, he could see on his phone that there were at least five Pokemon within the dark lobby of the building. Without a second thought he opened the door ever so slightly and let himself in so that he could retrieve his prize. 

To his disappointment, Pratt saw that the Poke’mon characters disappeared just as soon as they manifested. To his surprise however, Pratt saw that without the aid of his phone, the Poke’mon characters began to appear right in front of him. They were vivid and fully manifested and not one dimensional and they each began to ascend a winding staircase and stopped at the first landing. They waved at him to follow, and follow he did. The staircase was dark and so Pratt hugged the right side of the wall in order to keep himself from tripping. On the second landing, Pratt saw huge wooden double doors with an ornate carving of a compass overlaid on a square on each side. The Poke’mon characters parted both doors and went skipping in save for one who held the portal open for Pratt. Eagerly, the 45 year old Pratt walked through the door and found himself in a room that was lit by one singular blue light. The Poke’mon characters were gone; instead Pratt could just make out a group of shadowy human figures standing near the blue light. 

“Profane,” came the voices in unison.

Pratt excused himself and turned to leave but it was too late, the door was blocked by more of the dark figures barring his only route of escape.

“You mock our pain,” they stated.

“No,” Pratt said. “I’m looking for Poke’mon, that’s all. They told me to follow them up here, I had no idea that there was a meeting. Just let me go, I won’t say anything,”

“You are the author of our misery,” the brooding voices promised.

Before Pratt could turn and run, the unrecognizable figures surrounded him and lifted his body above their heads. Everything in the room was dark and indiscernible, and Pratt could not see the direction in which he was being taken. From what he could tell, he was in the corner of a room where he was surrounded and pressed by the group of men who stayed in the shadows. He was suddenly struck over the head with something and knocked out. 

When he came to, Pratt found himself laying flat in some kind of wooden box with the same blue light emanating from somewhere between his feet.  It would take him a few seconds before he figured out that he was in a make shift coffin. Panic instantly sunk in as he screamed again and again. He frantically reached for his phone is his pocket in order to call someone but he realized that he couldn’t tell anyone where he was, because he had no clue as to his location either. Turning his phone on, he found that it was still on the Poke’mon Go game. The map showed that his location was still on the property of the Masonic lodge.

Pratt dialed 911 and stated that he needed the police. When dispatch answered his call and asked him what his emergency was, he remained as calm as possible while stating his situation.

“I’ve been buried alive, I’m somewhere beneath the property of a Masonic lodge on the corner of Kinau and Chamkkae street,” he said.

“I see a Kinau and Makiki street, but not Chamkkae. What is the address sir?” The HPD dispatcher asked.

Looking closely at his Poke’mon map, Pratt could see that the address was listed as 123 Chamkkae Street.

“It’s 123 Chamkkae Street,” the air was quickly getting thin but he remained calm.

“We show no such address for that location sir,” dispatch said.

Looking at the address again on his phone, he realized what Chamkkae was. Being Korean on his mothers side, he should have very well known that Chamkkae meant Sesame. It was incredulous but he couldn’t deny it; considering everything that happened that night it was more like insane madness than anything else. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s alright,” he said to the police dispatcher.

“Sir, if you give us the correct address we can help you,” the dispatcher asked.

“You’ll never find me,” Pratt said.

He left the phone on just case. The GPS was still running but even if the authorities found the location they would never find him; it would be a miracle if they did. For Pratt Foley, the miracle never came.


Collin Kealoha was a 45 year old man with the mind of a 12 year old boy. He was a bachelor who never married and never had time to spend with his parents or his siblings. His job was simple, he was an overnight security guard at a local shopping mall. On his free time he indulged in xbox games and other mindless activities. His newest distraction was the Poke’mon Go game; interestingly enough he discovered that there was a Poke’mon spot just down the street from where he lived. It was in the parking lot of a Masonic Temple.

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