Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Aug 8, 2016

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 83 Nights Left! "Manuel"

We all mourned the death of our Lodge brother Manuel Henriques who died a few steps without the door of our temple. No one saw who the assailant was but we all heard the gun shot; it was as loud and disruptive as a sudden clap of thunder. It moved all of us to abandon our regular meeting and rush down stairs to see what was the matter. It was there that we found our dear brother Manuel sprawled out on the sidewalk at the foot of our ceremonial stairway. The still seeping pool of blood spreading out from beneath him told us that the bullet must have penetrated his heart and killed him instantly. We were glad in a way that his death came quickly and was not companioned with any suffering. However, we as his lodge brothers were concerned for his spirit. Was it in a state of unrest having perished so unexpectedly and without a moment to comprehend the circumstances which ended its life? For several nights, within the confines or our temple, we performed ceremonies which are meant to put both his physical and spiritual countenance at ease. It is important that the journey to his celestial home be one that is unfettered by obstacles from a life filled with troubles.

The better part of our most sacred ceremonies had not yet begun when the specter of what was once brother Manuel Henriques appeared before our altar. His suit and tie stained with dry blood and his face awash with grief moved even the most hardened among us to rise from our seats with stunned horror and mournful tears.

“Brother Henriques!” Some cried out.

“Vain hope!” Said others.

And yet, it was the master of our ceremonies who dealt frankly with the grim shadow of our once beloved brother.

“Brother Henriques, what horrible tragedy has befallen you? Who is the architect of your murder?” Asked he. “How may we know him brother? Speak! Tell us!”

“They are alike you and me,” the ghost spoke in a rasping tone, “they take what is not meant to be,”

Brother Henriques turned to his right and stepped off with both feet and then took seven solemn steps but paused at the ceremonial door before proceeding any further. Both doors then creaked open with a long moan and there at the precipice stood death himself.  The entire room rose to their feet filled with fear in the presence of the messenger of finality. The master of all ceremonies stood unmoved and did not waver as he locked eyes with he who bore souls across the waters of darkness.

The ghost of brother Manuel Henriques turned and addressed the lodge for one last time,

“He cannot leave with me, the journey cannot be complete without three,”

“Is it myself?” The master of ceremonies asked. “Or is it the guardians of the sunrise and sunset?”

“Neither,” replied brother Henriques. “ 'Tis my murderer and he who fired the weapon,”

“Why did they take the light from you brother?” The master inquired.

“They are not kings but it is a kings ransom they seek, it is what they want of me but are not meant to be. Cowards will not come forward to answer for their sins, but death will take them regardless for they are brothers without, but are cowardly murderers from within,” Brother Henriques then proceed slowly toward the opened double doors as death simultaneously stepped forward and thrice struck the floor with his mighty staff.

“Come forward now of your own accord or I will take thee from whereat thou stands! Come thee forward now Brother Lennox! Hie thee hence Brother Alteri! Know thee now the humble nature of Manuel Henriques, descended from the father of the first king of Portugal! Know yee one and all the mercenary motives of two who falsely obligate themselves to your brotherhood but seek only that which benefits themselves! COME!” The author of the end time commanded.

Brothers Lennox and Alteri rose to their feet aided by the supernatural command of the grim tyrant and levitated toward the opened double doors until they were firmly planted on either side of brother Manuel Henriques. The faces of both men were transfixed with utter horror as they cried out for mercy until the very end. The three exited the portal of our sacred room until they passed the threshold of time; whereupon both doors shut with such blinding speed that all present considered the other fortunate to have not been the guardian of the doorway on that evening.

Our fraternal brother Manuel Henriques was a direct descendant of the Portuguese house of Burgundy. He was of royal lineage but in his dealings among us, he was affable and humble. He was generous and kind and was a true brother who lived his obligation. He made nothing of his wealth but instead chose to live the life of a regular citizen. Brother Terence Lennox and Brother Richard Alteri obligated themselves to our order for whatever they could gain for themselves. Somehow, they discovered the true heritage of Brother Henriques and befriended his company, all the while hoping that a portion of his heritage would anoint itself upon them, or perhaps that Brother Henriques would bestow on them the station of knighthood. Realizing their true intent, brother Henriques severely reprimanded the two as they were close to entering the ceremonial steps which ascend to the door of our temple on the fateful evening. He reminded them of the reasons of their admission into such an ancient fraternity. Those reasons were charity and good will, not self fulfillment.  Brothers Lennox and Alteri had already arrived with a mercenary plan of their own, they’d intended to feign a dysfunction with their vehicle. They would then inquire of brother Henriques as to whether he was able to offer them
a return home in his vehicle. Once in the vehicle, they would brandish a weapon before him and force him to his home where he would have no choice but to give them all of his riches. They’d not expected to encounter his wrath so suddenly; with such a blow to their arrogant ego, the two took the sincere admonition as an affront and shot brother Henriques dead.

Lennox and Alteri took with dishonest intent in their hearts, the obligation that would bind them to our mysteries which in and of itself is a true bond of mysticism where a cabal of men would decide their fate. Their obligation may have been an empty promise but the penalty that they half heartedly agreed to, should they err, is very deeply visceral and one hundred percent real.

Let death be the payment.

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