The Brothers Paranormal - Season 03 - Episode 08 - Stained Glass

“So everyone just deals with this shit-stain house on their street?” said Juice.

He put on the breaks and the van came to a squeaky halt right in front of the said object of humanely waste.

“Who wants to touch this house after all that happened inside of it, let alone fix it up, not me.” Said Jack. He looked at it with scrunched face.

“Well ya, but they should just knock it down, no?” Juice replied.

“Even destruction costs money brother,” Jack said finally peeling his gaze from the home. Dusk was approaching.

“Didn’t Gemma tell us ‘you won’t need a permit, the whole neighborhood has been abandoned?’ Well it does not look abandoned to me.”

Both of them looked around at the street straight out of a Martha Stewart dream.

They then looked to the house, which sat like a rotten piece of fruit in Martha’s glorious fruit bowl, standing out amongst the ripe colors as a grey disappointment, that had special colored spots of rot.

Children played in yards, folks walked their dogs and beautiful decorations for the Christmas season adorned every home.

“It seems Gemma was wrong. We need to make this tight and quick,” said Jack.

Juice groaned.

“Actually Juice I know now why they kept it here,” Jack lit a cigarette with his zippo and snapped it tight, “so we could come here and greet its past and expose its insides for the hells it has wrought,” Jack let out his best villain laugh. He laughed and chugged the rest of his roadie.

Jack and Juice went to the back of the van, like synchronized swimmers.

The back of their car was brightened by headlights and another van pulled up just behind them.

“Here comes mama, lock in Jack,” said Juice.

People dressed in all black trickled out like the back of a clown car, each already set on their task. Some disappeared behind the house, others set up chairs and tents at the side in the overgrown driveway. The boys looked on the spectacle, it never got old.

The last out of the van was woman with deep black hair. She commanded her army of people in in black outfits to their locations.

“ Start with the perimeter, try to find areas to fit probes and string. I want this place rigged to the teeth. Come on people get creative!” ” She instructed.

“You both should be ready for set in five, we need to make this one quick, it looks like we have civilians, she said in a very military way.

The brothers opened the van doors wide. Inside a full wardrobe hair and make up pop out station fit for a troupe.

Juice turned on a light inside of the van and with a brush dabbled at his brothers face and his own covering up the bags under their eyes. They then put on their signature vests and packed their many pockets with the necessary accessories.

Jack & Juice. Ghost Hunters.

They scanned the house, up and around one obvious point, feigning ignorant of the team breaking through the fence surrounding it and opening the gates wide. Their eyes scanning far and wide seeing all but the man ten feet in front of them violently grunting and pulling at the “No trespassing sign”.

Someone screamed from the back “Awf!” from the back of the house that came alongside a crash, likely breaking a window.

“Actually really enjoyed the McDonalds on the way here!” Juice said interrupting Jack’s awkward whistle.

“Ya right! It was warm and the meat was closer to meat than cardboard.”

The sign finally came free with a snap and was quickly hidden in the back of the crew’s van.

“So what do we think?” said Jack.

The roof was concave in one section, maybe a fire. The houses exterior covered with grime and overtaken by the brown earth. All of the windows were stained glass, while the house was not a pretty sight, if you took the time to look through its heinous visage, it did have an air of charisma to it.

The brothers put up their hands like directors and cased the house and street.

“Was there this many people outside when we arrived?” asked Jack.

“No there was not.”

Before them almost every house had a watcher. Most watched through windows or while sitting on porches. But some turned and faced them silent from right in front of their homes, all in their own space but all looking directly at them.

“Let’s get this over with before they call the police” said Jack. “Sandy, time?”

The woman popped out from behind her van with two microphones in hand. She walked over to the brothers and said something in her ear piece as she approached.

“2 minutes.” She said.

She moved over their vests and placed the microphone on the inner side of their collars hidden and placed the receiver behind their backs on their belt.

“The house does have some danger spots, holes in ground, uneasy roof, we have those marked with units of duct tape that should not show up in the night vision camera.

Jack & Juice nodded. She continued.

“The best way to approach this house is, the main spirit is angry. We need you to place cameras as usual in each room you enter, these will go live as you walk throughout the home and this time we have a new one with infrared, Kyle will be in a cold suit and walk through this room and it will look like a cold body or ghost. Do not react to this one, this is for the viewers.”

“Wait, what? Infrared? We tried this before and the chance for heat signatures from the crew is too high, and who is Kyle?”

Without looking she pointed to a terribly small bearded man that looked similar to a gnome getting suited up in a skin tight suit. Startled by the movement he had a little jump, and waved back, noticing their attention on him.

“Do not worry about the heat signatures, those have been solved and we have everything in blind spots.

“We will send you on the chase and Juice I need you to split off from Jack. Juice you will hear the sounds of children and Jack you will be locked in on the presence of Morine.”

She flipped further through her notes.

“Jack, from the point you split we need you to go upstairs slowly and we will slam a door on the way up, the back door, it will be loud, showing the anger.”

Jack pulled out an air head from one of his vest pockets popping it into his mouth as he left the wrapper on the floor.

“Juice you will go to the downstairs where the remains of the husband was found. We want to have children's voices lead you down there, you just say you heard something and we will add something in post,” sandy instructed.

Sandy put her hand on her ear. “They are ready,” she said. And pulled them to the front of the house before the porch.

She moved back and sat in a chair behind monitors that showed the many cameras placed in the house and the one right before her now that held the brothers in focus.

“You know the deal boys you have done this 100 times, keep it slow, keep it exploratory, let the sounds drive the progress.”

“Silence on the set.” she said into her mic. And a red light went on behind her on a pole.

“Roll sound, roll camera! She screamed.

Jack and Juice both shook their heads and jumped up and down a bit. And crouched slightly for no reason at all, stolen right from the repertoire of Steve Irwin.

“Rolling!” a technician screamed right on time.

“You all remember the story of the missing the children, the same story that ended in tragedy, a worst case scenario where bodies are found and a city is destroyed,” Jack whisper yelled.

Juice leaned past his brother to take over the main view of the camera.

“This is the story and home of Morine Milkoff, the one they call the child artist. Not because she was a child, but because killing her art, the children her canvas. Some say she loved children, but she loved them wrong.”

He turned and presented the house with a big wave of his arm.

“We will enter this house tonight, to not only present a home of one of the most terrifying and ruthless killers, but also to speak with the spirits that remain and find out the why Morine Milkoff decided…to get creative.”

“CUT!” Sandy interrupted, “can we please just continue and lay the story out there without you trying to be cute?” “

“Sorry, I thought that would land,” said Juice.

“Of course it did not land.” Jack said and took over Juice as the focus of this scene. He started his camera and reversed up the stairs with his brother beside him.

“Come with us on this journey into the house of a killer. We are going to need you in case anything happens.” Jack said, in a climax sort of way as they stepped into the house.

The brothers walked in with heavy creaks and the inside of the home was heavy. They both had cameras attached to their wastes and shoulders that were filming them from beneath that showed mostly under chin and POVs.

“Look Juice,” said Jack, “the door handles.” they are moving. Juice leaned and covered his mic while he whispered to his brother.

“Pretty good effects.” Juice said as they stood still letting the handles shake until they stopped.

It was dark and through the flashlight particles were dense. Juice shined the light to the left showing the staircase through the lobby, behind it a guest room.

“Let’s check it out,” said Jack. “Get out the EMF reader and lets change to our infrared optics.

“These infrared optics will help us find cold pockets, the best par…” Juice started to say until he was frozen. In the guest room bed laid what looked like the signature of warm legs. .

They both ripped off there goggles and rand back to the lobby.

“Kyle’s suit is not working,” Juice said into his mic to Sandy.

“We have not sent in Kyle, there is nothing on the monitor, you are not at that point yet,” she replied, “and I told you, do not react to him.”

When they replaced their goggles the warm signature was gone.

“There is no one there,” said Juice.

They could see through the back the door open and Kyle enter the scene and walk through to another room out of sight.

Somewhere a door slammed Jack & Juice feigned fear and followed the sounds.

“Something is not happy we are here Jack.”

“That mean’s we are on the right track.”

Both of them continued through and around the kitchen into the dining room Jack had his reader pointed up the stairs and Juice had his pointed at the door leading to the basement cellar and the sensors were maxed out.

I wanna be next. A voice came from nowhere. Beautiful

“Did you hear that?” said Juice confused.

“No, what did you hear?”

“I do not know, it sounded like children”

Juice went to walk towards the sound, towards the cellar, he opened the door and walked down the stairs, leaving a camera in the kitchen, and splitting off from Jack.

***

Jack heard a loud SLAM! His hair going up all over his body as he walked towards the stairs. Sandy did mention this was the direction it was all going. Then he started to hear it.

CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING.

A sound perfectly in rhythm. Jack hesitated to move forward.

“This house is active folks, anything you see from here please pray for us, the only reason I can do this is because I know you are by my side.” Jack said, one to stoke the hearts of the viewer, also to stoke his own heart to take another step.

He moved forward up the stairs.

CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING.

Until he was at the end of a long dark hallway, a hallway illuminated by the caved in roof showed 5 rooms.

CHU CHING, CHU CHING, CHU CHING.

***

Slowly, Juice walked down the stairs.

He felt the temperature cool as he descended in the moistened air that comes with an abandoned basement. The scent punched him in the face, moldy wet death, and after a brief scan of the room he saw the culprit.

Near a door on the other side of the basement laid piles of soiled clothing.

He removed his infrared goggles to get a better look.

“It seems this basement is in need of a laundry machine,” he said, “are you guys seeing this?”

Nothing came from his ear piece, nothing from sandy, silence from Jack.

The door of the basement room creaked open.

“The door in front just opened? We have to check it out” he said to the camera, he knew the drill, follow the cues. Keep the crowd engaged. He pulled his flashlight for this entry.

“Run boys! Get out of that hou-“ he heard heard in his headphone and it cut off in his ear.

“Sandy, what!? Sandy I can’t hear you,” he replied in a panic.

There was not reply again.

Juice fumbled with the flashlight unable to see and turned it on.

***

Jack walked down the hallway illuminated from each door the stain glass colors of dark blues and deep reds alternating between each door opening, like he walked past different portals to different worlds.

CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING.

He first walked past a bedroom on the right, large and on the far wall stain glass photo of a mother and child.

CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING.

He walked past a closet of old board games and puzzles and toys that filled a cupboard.

CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING, CHUH CHING.

“We need to find where this noise is coming from, whatever is here knows I am close, it is angry at my approach.”

Jack walked to the 4th room, a bedroom, the one with the cold dark blue hue coming from whatever stain glass window remained inside.

He peaked in.

CHU CHING, CHU CHING, CHU CH—.

The sound stopped. The crickets the permeated this house stopped with it. The houses small breathe also stopped.

Inside the room a bed and wardrobe with a vanity desk. Toys laid out on the floor and he could hear the soft sound of what it might have been here with the joy of all of the children.

“I am starting to think, there is a different story here,” he said to the audience.

Everything looked as thought it was left exactly how it was when it was abandoned. The room silent and nothing to make that metal sound only signs of play. In the mirror of the vanity he saw behind himself a hulking dark figure larger than a man and spun. Nothing was there. The sound began again.

CHU CHING, CHU CHING, CHU CHIN—. They looked back once more and could see an imprint on the bed lift up like something invisible just lifted off the bed. The sound of crickets came back.

He turned the other way and ran back down the stairs feeling the presence of something behind him. Jack fell over the railing unwilling to lower his speed.

His mic went wild with the sound of children, they screamed.It mixed with the loud screaming from outside, it sounded like all of the street was under attack. Sandy in their earpiece screaming and outside they heard it as well.

“They are still down there!” Juice yelled coming from the kitchen, he had mud and blood all over one of his sides.

Jack did not slow, he grabbed his brother, who was under the impression that he would be going down with him to whatever lay beneath.

“Run Juice! There was something upstairs! We need to get out of here!”

The ear piercing sound of Kyle screaming from somewhere in the house tore through them as they run.

They breached the doorway outside and leaped off the porch with a stumble.

Juice held onto his leg and sobbed as his face leaked boogers and tears. “We have to go inside and save them, they are all there.”

They both looked up to their crew and were welcomed by a ransacked set, the tents and directors chairs wrecked laid all on the ground. They looked around. The crew was gone. All was silent and the only noise was the house behind them and a soft singing within

The street was dead, each house that was so beautifully repaired were decrepit as the one they were just within. Their crews can was flipped and a trail smoke drifted into the air at the end of the street.

“What the?” Juice said. “Jack what is happening? What happened here!”

Random screams and cries came on the wind from inside of the surrounding homes. Sine soft sobs or yells of a fight. The sidewalk near the neighbor had a trail of blood.

“They took Sandy, everyone is gone!” Jack screamed.

Jack and Juice ran towards their van.

At that time of leaving, children trickled out of the houses and played in the yards, empty eyes and bloodless skin. Except the parents were nowhere to be found.

Jack & Juice, The Brothers Paranormal, drove at full speed outside of the town and they did not look back.

Their episode aired more than any episode before.

Skeptics thought it all a fake production They never did solve what really happened and they would stop answering questions entirely when a fan once asked a question, about the little kid…jumping on the bed.