This is my version of how the first twelve ghosts were caught. I'm going to try to make it a different from Goody's story as possible. Any similarities are purely accidental.

The Telling of the Twelve

By: Gdsmckgrl

Disclaimer: Any characters you don't recognize probably belong to me. The one's you do recognize don't belong to me.

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Prologue and Chapter 1

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Dennis Rafkin, psychic counselor, awoke to the shrill ringing of one of the few objects on his bedside table. Thinking it was his alarm clock he picked it up and sleepily slung it across the room, when whatever it was rang three more times he realized it wasn't his alarm clock, his next choice of objects was the phone. When he picked it up it stopped ringing and he surmised that he had gotten it right this time. He grumbled out a groggy 'Hello, what do you want?' into the phone and waited none to patiently for the person on the other line to give him an answer.

Is this a Mr. Dennis Rafkin speaking?" A voice with and English accent replied.

'Well who the hell else would it be at five thirty in the morning?' Dennis said angrily to himself, to the person on the phone he replied, " Yes. And who might you be ?"

" Ah good, I managed to get a hold of you! You are not an easy man to track down, what with you moving suddenly all of the time." This guy replied as if he hadn't even heard Dennis' question.

Of course this didn't please Dennis at all so in reply he said, "Well good for you, I'd fully congratulate you but I still don't know who the hell you are."

" Oh, how rude of me! My name is Cyrus Kriticos. I want to hire you to help me catch some ghosts. Before you say no, I'd like to tell you that I already know of your slightly impoverished life style and that I can offer you a great sum to help me. You see, I am rather well off in society so I can afford the help of such a wonderfully gifted psychic as yourself, and I promise not to 'skip' you on the pay. So, will you help me?"

Dennis couldn't believe this guy. If Cyrus knew so much about his lifestyle already that you would think he would know that Dennis had quit the ghost business. Well, as close to quitting as he could get, it's not like he can just turn off his 'gift'. But he needed the money, so he gave in against his better judgment and asked, "How much are you willing to pay?"

" Well, for the less violent ghosts, about twenty-five thousand apiece. But of course the more violent they are the more you will get paid."

" How can I trust your promise?"

" Why, my promise is a gentleman's promise and a gentleman never breaks his promise." Cyrus replied as if he were appalled at the very thought of betraying his promise.

Dennis didn't believe he was going to do it but he was, " All right when shall we meet?"

" Tonight in my little cottage," Cyrus gave him the address, "be there at six, and do be on time, I simply can't wait to talk in detail about the first one."

With that Cyrus hung up, with not so much as a good-bye.

"Oh goody!" Dennis' said in a mocking voice to the dial tone "Oh, I do hope there will be tea and crumpets too. Stupid old man. Now what exactly did he mean bye violent ghosts? Man this guy is a freak!"

Seeing that he wasn't going to get anymore sleep he decided to get up and get his morning paper from the lobby of the apartment building he lived in. So he got up and headed on down; after getting dressed of course.

Once downstairs in order to get a paper, one must pass the buildings small restaurant. As Dennis was passing it he noticed a girl staring a point behind him. She was just kinda, well, staring. As to why, Dennis had no clue. This girl had long brown hair, well, except for the bottom four inches, which were a deep purple. He could tell she had contacts in because her eyes were yellow and looked like cats eyes. He shrugged off her staring and went on to get is usual morning paper.

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In his opinion, six had come way to early. But, here he was in front of this large log home in a slightly wooded area. He sighed and rang the doorbell. To his great surprise the girl from this morning answered the door. He couldn't resist asking her what she was looking at.

" Oh that," she started, "well, you see, I have 'gifts' just like you, well not exactly like yours, mine are different, I can see ghosts and I can hear them talking and if someone touches me I get flashes of their life. I just can't pinpoint where a ghost is. I also don't get as many flashes as you, you get a whole history and I only get some of it. You can also touch an object they owned and know when and how they died and where they haunt. I can't do that but I wish I could. But, back to this morning, well, there was a mean looking ghost behind you and I was making sure he didn't do anything funny because we really need your help with the hunting, 'cause it's too hard to track a ghost down with just me, but with the help of your gifts we can." She finished the whole thing with huge smile on her face.

"Remind me to call you if I ever get amnesia. Lemme guess you also know my date of birth, home town, and my social security number?" Dennis said sarcastically.

" Well, as a matter of fact." she once again started, but Dennis interrupted her.

" Wait! I don't want to know!"

Just then a middle aged man that could only be Cyrus appeared.

"Ah, I see you've met Cleo, you'll be working with her. But judging from how talkative she is she's probably told you that , what her gifts are, what your gifts are, and where the neighbors three miles down went on vacation four years ago. In case you can't tell, she has a knack for finding things out. She's the one who eventually tracked you down."

It looked as if Cyrus hadn't even stopped for breath yet. Dennis, taken aback by this man said the first thing that came to mind.

"Damn straight!"

This cause a smile to make a brief although undeniable appearance on Cyrus' face.

" Now, down to business. As you know I have hired you to help me catch some ghosts. Why? You may ask. Well, some people collect baseball cards, some collect stamps, I, however, collect ghosts. I find them fascinating, I wish to find out how and why they are here, What keeps them here instead of going on , and if possible help them move on into the next realm."

Dennis laughed in disbelief.

" So you going to have us help you catch some violent ghosts just so you can chat with them over a cup of tea about what's been going on lately." Dennis replied sarcastically.

" No."

"Well that's good," Dennis began but was cut off by Cyrus.

" Talking to them is Cleo's job."

Dennis could only grin. This man was simply unbelievable.

" Well, Mr. Kriticos, how pray tell do you expect to catch a ghost. They're not exactly solid matter."

"Cages."

"Cages? I'm sorry but I don't think a cage will hold them."

" These are a different kind of cages. They are made of high quality shatterproof glass."

"Hello! Haven't you ever seen a horror movie. Ghosts walk through walls!"

" Let me finish. The glass is etched with ancient Latin containment spells. The ghosts cannot walk through them. Once the cage door is closed the only way they can get out is if the door is opened again."

" How do you know it works? Have you tested it?" Dennis still wasn't sure about all of it.

" Yes we have. We have already caught one of the ghosts I want. The one we caught, I like to call the Torso. He is quite simply the top half of a body wrapped in cellophane, he hold his own decapitated head which is also wrapped in cellophane. He was rather easy to catch."

Okay, Dennis was starting to believe him. But, "How do you know I'm for real? That my 'gifts' are real?"

" We have been observing you for some time. We know your 'for real'."

" Okay, so when do we go after the first ghost?"

"Tonight. Actually, right now would be great."

"Right now!?"

"Yes, know if you don't mind, touch this."

It was a feather. It looked like it came from a child's headdress . Dennis didn't want to touch it but he had to, it was what he was being paid to do. So he placed his hand on it and waited for the pain. It always started suddenly, first the pain, then the images. Dennis saw quite a few things. A child in a cowboy outfit, his father telling him to listen to his mom, a friend, a bow and arrows, shooting up in the air, arrow coming down, the friend screaming for help, blood, and finally, black. When Dennis came out of it Cyrus was quick to ask him what he saw.

" I saw a kid and his friend shooting real arrows into the air, like straight up above their head, even though the kids parents told him not to. Then one of the arrows h shot came right down through his head because he didn't watch where it went he just bent over to pick something up, and then his friend screaming, and then blood and darkness." God, Dennis already hated this job.

" Good, very good. Can you tell us where he is 'haunting'?" Cyrus questioned.

" Yeah," Dennis started, "yeah, he haunts the woods around his house where he was killed."

" Is he angry at all?"

"Yeah, of course he's angry. He's dead."

" Does he want to hurt us?"

"Only if we are on his property. When we come on his property or on the property he haunts we automatically become Indians. He doesn't like Indians."

Cleo decided to then make her great reappearance and said, "What does he look like, I'll need to know so I can spot him."

" He's a ten year old kid wearing a cowboy outfit with an arrow through his head."

"Yeah, I know that but what about facial features?"

" Think of it this way, he'll be the only one there with an arrow protruding from his little forehead. He'll also be the only one there that wants us dead."

"Oh, okay." She then smiled again.

Dennis just wanted this whole thing over with.

" Well, let's get a move on we wouldn't want to keep Mr. Kriticos' second ghost waiting would we?"

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Dennis sarcastically wondered if he had told them he hated doing this shit already. But there he stood in the back yard of this kids ghosts. He could already feel the familiar pain of a ghost close by. He was beginning to wonder how exactly they were going to keep him from running away when a strange mantra began playing.

"What is that?" Dennis question Cleo who was standing next to him.

" It's Latin. It sort of calls the ghost and keeps him from leaving the area."

" Okay, now how exactly are we going to get him in the cage?"

"We'll have to bait it of course."

"What are we using for 'bait'?"

" An Indian. He will stand in the doorway of the cage and when the ghost gets close enough to him he'll jump out of the cage and the ghost will go inside the cage and get locked in."

"What if the guy doesn't jump out in time?"

" Then he gets killed. It's not our fault if he doesn't move fast enough."

Cleo handed Dennis a pair of clear glasses.

" What are these?" he asked.

"Wear them and you can see ghosts, take them off and you can't."

Satisfied with her answer he put on the glasses. A few seconds later he saw the ghost at the same time a Cleo. There he was. The arrow sticking out of his forehead, his hatchet in the pocket of his eternal cowboy get-up. He had a playful yet evil grin on his bloody face. Then he saw the Indian man in the doorway of the cage. The ghost's grin got a bit bigger and he slowly began approaching the cage.

" Why isn't he running. Isn't he supposed to be fast in attacking?!" Dennis whispered to Cyrus uncertainly.

"Yes, he is supposed to be fast and he probably is. Our problem is that he figured out that the man is going to run out once he gets close and fast enough not to stop. So he going to go slowly so as to keep the man from running out. So he can trap and kill him of course."

Just as Cyrus said, the ghost was getting closer and closer to the cage, yet he wasn't going any faster. But his grin was getting bigger. His hand was slowly moving toward his hatchet. The mantra was still playing but no one seemed to hear it anymore. All eyes were on the ghost. When he got within five feet of the cage he pulled his hatchet. The Indian, scared, began backing into the cage, praying that there was a backdoor. The ghost kept smiling as he stepped into the cage, effectively cornering the Indian.

"Close the door!" Cyrus yelled.

"What are you doing?!" Dennis yelled at him, "That guy is still in there!"

" Sacrifices are to be expected, he had the chance to run but he didn't so his fate is sealed!"

As he said that the doors were closed and the mantra stopped playing. The ghost, realizing he was trapped banged on the door for a second, and then realized that his prey was trapped too. He turned toward the Indian, once again smiling and raised his hatchet. Many of the workers took of the glasses but Dennis wasn't able to, it's like he almost wanted to see it. The ghost cut the man's stomach open and his guts spilled out on the floor of the cage. The he chopped of both of the man's arm's, then each leg. The sick part was, the man was still alive, but not for long. The last thing the Indian saw was the ghost leaning over him with another evil grin on his face and his hatchet raised. Dennis couldn't take it any more, he tore off his glasses and threw them to the ground but even that couldn't the scene of the man head coming off with a final scream and being throw around the cage.

Dennis looked around after all this and saw Cyrus had walked away during it. Pissed off he walked toward his employer.

"You are sick!" he yelled at him

"Why am I 'sick'?"

"Because you just let that man be killed, because you wanted another ghost for some sick collection that you are keeping!"

"Like I said, sacrifices are to be expected. If you don't want to lose you job, I suggest you get used to it real quick!" One could tell he was angered by Dennis' outburst. But Dennis wasn't just going to take it laying down.

"And who, pray tell, would you get to help you find the ghosts in the first place without me? How would you expand your sick, twisted collection? Do you realize that most psychics as strong as me kill themselves when their young?! So unless you want to end your collection now I advise you not fire me anytime soon!"

Dennis blew off all the tension he had felt that night in that statement and ended it by taking one of his ever present pills. All Cyrus said after the outburst was,

"Noted." to Dennis, then to the rest of the workers, "Good job! I will see you all tomorrow. And you to Mr. Rafkin. Please be at my house a the same time tomorrow night. We have more ghosts to collect!"

With that he walked off into the night.

*Hey! I hope you liked the first chapter of the story. If ya didn't then please go easy on the flames. It's my first story after all. Any hints as to what I could do for the bound woman would be very helpful because right now I have no clue. l8r! *