Title: Currently untitled 13 Ghosts Fic ;)
Author: Lizzie (ravens_slavegirl@yahoo.co.uk)
Rating: Eventually R, but this part's probably G. I can't remember if I
cursed in it or not, so I'll say PG to be sure.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Summary: Not really long enough for there to be a summary yet. Set before
the movie, this is a fic about Dennis and how he came to be involved with
Cyrus' dream.
Notes: This is only the first chapter. It'll be much, much longer when I'm
through, believe me.
Proving the existence of ESP was never going to be an easy affair. Since
the very coining of the phrase, Extra-Sensory Perception had been dismissed
as fantasy and condemned to the realm of Science Fiction; no reputable
academic had dared to touch on it, if not simply due to its fantastical
nature, because to do so would be to commit academic suicide.
This Dr. Erik Heilmann knew all too well - he had, after all, sacrificed his credibility for the sake of writing the definitive paper on the subject, which had since been published and republished in many popular psychology journals. The paper received mixed reviews.
Heilmann's fascination with ESP had its roots early in his childhood. As many children do, he had had a phase of utter belief in his own supernatural power - that if he could concentrate hard enough, want it enough, he could become invisible, walk through walls, move objects with his mind, predict the change of traffic signals. And as is the case with most children, his belief faded in time. The difference between Erik Heilmann and most children, however, was that whilst the phase eventually ended, his fascination never did.
As a child, Dr. Heilmann had been utterly absorbed by the world of the comicbook hero. He keeps his childhood collection to this day. And at twelve years old, he discovered Science Fiction when his father shared his collection of HG Wells novels. He revelled in this world where men travelled back and forth through time, where telepathy and precognition were commonplace. At thirteen years old, he wanted to be a writer himself. He had so many wonderful stories to tell.
Then one day it dawned on him that there was a whole world awaiting discovery outside of Science Fiction, and as soon as he was old enough to realise that a legitimate field of study existed, his interest was wholly transferred to Psychology. Reading books at lunch in his high school library, Erik soon realised that the human mind was where his interest should lay. He saw such untapped power, such inexplicable capacity, and knew that he'd discovered the work to which he would dedicate the rest of his natural life.
At twenty-four, Erik James Heilmann received his doctorate, and, on the strength of his dissertation, a post with the University of Massachusetts. The university was well aware of his research interests, and although scorned by those more distinguished within the profession, he was allowed to pursue those interests. The simple fact of the matter was that the outlandish nature of Dr. Heilmann's work attracted more funding than that of the remainder of the department faculty combined. As is always the case, it all came down to money. Even then, when he was just starting out, back in 1971.
Over the following years, Heilmann became renowned for his unwavering dedication to his research, despite less than promising results. He published paper after paper on the strength of his test subjects, though always careful to acknowledge the shortcomings of his testing. Thanks in no small part to his efforts, some credibility was lent to the field. That, if nothing else, pleased him.
But as the years passed, he became increasingly frustrated. It seemed that over half of the cases referred to him were little more than clever frauds or convincing delusionals, and the rest showed such sporadic accuracy in their testing that the results were rendered corrupt and inadmissible. His belief in the existence of ESP had, however, only increased, and that was at the heart of his frustration. He resented the fact that something in which he held such a profound belief, which had advocated so strenuously, could be so widely dismissed.
Shortly after his forty-ninth birthday, his wife of fifteen years, and fellow psychologist, gently suggested that he transfer his research interests to her area of study; she had a successful program running in abnormal psychology, and offered him a position with her team. Two weeks later, to his wife's delight, he accepted the offer.
Seven years later, Erik Heilmann found himself at the forefront of his flourishing field. In addition to his classes at UMass, his expertise was often enlisted for many more complex investigations by various police departments and infrequently the FBI, and during the summer he found time to give worldwide lecture tours. He was a guest speaker at forty-three universities and wrote nine books on Psychology, all very well received by his critics and peers alike. And most importantly, Erik found that this work satisfied him. He was an acknowledged expert in both Psychology and Criminology; finally he had the acceptance he had always craved.
One evening following a conference in Geneva - at which he had had the honour of being the main speaker - his wife told him that after years in the wilderness, metaphorically speaking, he had found his way home. He had to agree.
Three days later, back in his office at UMass, he met Dennis Rafkin. And his whole world fell apart.
***
This Dr. Erik Heilmann knew all too well - he had, after all, sacrificed his credibility for the sake of writing the definitive paper on the subject, which had since been published and republished in many popular psychology journals. The paper received mixed reviews.
Heilmann's fascination with ESP had its roots early in his childhood. As many children do, he had had a phase of utter belief in his own supernatural power - that if he could concentrate hard enough, want it enough, he could become invisible, walk through walls, move objects with his mind, predict the change of traffic signals. And as is the case with most children, his belief faded in time. The difference between Erik Heilmann and most children, however, was that whilst the phase eventually ended, his fascination never did.
As a child, Dr. Heilmann had been utterly absorbed by the world of the comicbook hero. He keeps his childhood collection to this day. And at twelve years old, he discovered Science Fiction when his father shared his collection of HG Wells novels. He revelled in this world where men travelled back and forth through time, where telepathy and precognition were commonplace. At thirteen years old, he wanted to be a writer himself. He had so many wonderful stories to tell.
Then one day it dawned on him that there was a whole world awaiting discovery outside of Science Fiction, and as soon as he was old enough to realise that a legitimate field of study existed, his interest was wholly transferred to Psychology. Reading books at lunch in his high school library, Erik soon realised that the human mind was where his interest should lay. He saw such untapped power, such inexplicable capacity, and knew that he'd discovered the work to which he would dedicate the rest of his natural life.
At twenty-four, Erik James Heilmann received his doctorate, and, on the strength of his dissertation, a post with the University of Massachusetts. The university was well aware of his research interests, and although scorned by those more distinguished within the profession, he was allowed to pursue those interests. The simple fact of the matter was that the outlandish nature of Dr. Heilmann's work attracted more funding than that of the remainder of the department faculty combined. As is always the case, it all came down to money. Even then, when he was just starting out, back in 1971.
Over the following years, Heilmann became renowned for his unwavering dedication to his research, despite less than promising results. He published paper after paper on the strength of his test subjects, though always careful to acknowledge the shortcomings of his testing. Thanks in no small part to his efforts, some credibility was lent to the field. That, if nothing else, pleased him.
But as the years passed, he became increasingly frustrated. It seemed that over half of the cases referred to him were little more than clever frauds or convincing delusionals, and the rest showed such sporadic accuracy in their testing that the results were rendered corrupt and inadmissible. His belief in the existence of ESP had, however, only increased, and that was at the heart of his frustration. He resented the fact that something in which he held such a profound belief, which had advocated so strenuously, could be so widely dismissed.
Shortly after his forty-ninth birthday, his wife of fifteen years, and fellow psychologist, gently suggested that he transfer his research interests to her area of study; she had a successful program running in abnormal psychology, and offered him a position with her team. Two weeks later, to his wife's delight, he accepted the offer.
Seven years later, Erik Heilmann found himself at the forefront of his flourishing field. In addition to his classes at UMass, his expertise was often enlisted for many more complex investigations by various police departments and infrequently the FBI, and during the summer he found time to give worldwide lecture tours. He was a guest speaker at forty-three universities and wrote nine books on Psychology, all very well received by his critics and peers alike. And most importantly, Erik found that this work satisfied him. He was an acknowledged expert in both Psychology and Criminology; finally he had the acceptance he had always craved.
One evening following a conference in Geneva - at which he had had the honour of being the main speaker - his wife told him that after years in the wilderness, metaphorically speaking, he had found his way home. He had to agree.
Three days later, back in his office at UMass, he met Dennis Rafkin. And his whole world fell apart.
***