Secrets on the other side (closed)

[zydrate]

"Oh yes, I can see great love in your future.." Dakota said, her voice calm and serene. In the background, meditation music played faintly as the smoke of sandalwood incense rose from its burner near the front of the shop. In the window hung a sign, 'Psychic Readings' in bright neon, along with several wind chimes and Native American dream catchers. The decor was there to lure in patrons, not scare them away as some of the other 'readers' liked to do.

Dakota Stone knew she was one of a few handful of 'real' psychics in these parts, but she also didn't consider herself just a psychic, but rather, a medium. Since the age of 3, she could talk to the dead. She saw them as clearly as she saw those who really were living. Of course, at first, it was scary. Not just seeing apparitions but also, the evil. In time though, she had learned to control most what she saw and especially when she could see them.

Her bloodline dated back as far as the new settlers of the Louisiana territory. It seemed to all run on the women's side of the bloodline. Her grandmother had and was the only one who understood what Dakota saw in her visions and, if you will, dreams. Her mother, unfortunately, passed when giving birth to Dakota...something her father never forgave her for up to this day... and the frequent beatings as a child was what sent Dakota to keep quiet about her 'gift'. At least until recently.

The locals knew the story, as did some that hung onto the old traditions and ways. It was all a matter of perspective. Either you believed or you didn't. Simple as that.

In fact, she even worked with the local police department to aid in the finding of a some missing children.

Finding someone required she not necessarily get into the mind of the person missing, although that was needed, but more into the mind of the person who was committing the crime.

And that in itself was scary.

"What about money?" The woman on the other side of the table asked, "I play the lottery every chance I get and I want to win a lot of money!"

Keeping her face stoic, Dakota hated the greed she could feel from this woman when she had first entered her domain. Quirking an eyebrow, Dakota pretended to ponder the woman's question as she ran another finger over the longest line on her hand, "This tells me that, although it will take a long for your riches to increase, you should not waste your finances on something that will come to you but to rather, focus on the riches you already have."

The woman, Barbara, seemed satisfied with that. When the reading was done, she paid Dakota, giving her an extra big tip, "Thank you so much! I hope I find that love tonight!" She exclaimed as she exited the shop.

I hope the fates intervene and help you also... Dakota thought as she locked up shop for the evening. She needed to get home this evening because there was a storm coming.

****​

Dakota had just beaten the storm when she finally made it home. Even though the rains just started, she was soaked to the skin as she entered her small house on the edge of the city. Her grandmother's house. A house in which she was in the middle of restoring so there were some parts that were leaking but luckily, she had already placed some buckets in those spots so she was ready. The only dry spots was the kitchen, the living room and of course, her bedroom with the connecting bathroom.

Yeah, there was still a lot of work she had to do on it. But of course, money was an issue and so far, she had poured every last cent she earned into the house but it seemed to be a futile project.

But of course, she wasn't one to give up hope. It would get done...soon.

Although if these storms kept up with the way they did, she wasn't going to have a house left to refurbish.

Quickly, still in her wet clothes, she put on a pot of hot coffee. Then, as it was brewing, she went to take a quick hot shower before the power was lost... no, she didn't need the ability to see in to the future for that. It was something that happened every time a storm hit.

After her shower, she tossed on a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. Tonight, she was planning to get some of the house work done even with the storm raging outside, she knew she wasn't going to get any sleep.

Dakota hardly slept as it was.

Before she started, she made a sandwich and grabbed a beer.

Beer. Or just alcohol in general, helped with the voices.

Helped quiet things a little.

As she was making her late dinner. Dakota paused. She just stopped in midst of placing a slice of bread on her plate.

Someone was coming.

 

[zydrate]

"Not again...not again.." Dakota said as she paced the length of her small kitchen as she bit her bottom lip. The last time she felt 'this' was over 2 years ago and something terrible had happened.

She saw it happen, but couldn't stop it.

But now, she was older and wiser, at least she liked to look at it that way. But again, she felt helpless now. It was going to happen again.

"Gods..." she muttered under her breath and stopped as she reached for unopen can of beer on the counter and opened it before chugging a good portion of it. The alcohol helped. It helped quiet the voices down....not a guarantee, but something like putting a blanket over a problem for now.

The sandwich she had prepared earlier was still sitting on the small kitchen island in the middle of the room as she took a seat on a bar stool and just stared blankly ahead.

She could stop this.

Silence.

As if someone pressed play, time seemed to move again for Dakota.

Gods, she hated those little episodes of nothingness. It was scary because she didn't know if she was going to recover from it. She knew what was happened and there was nothing she could do but let it happen.

It caught up with her...it being time.

Time caught up with her and she suddenly felt very tired. She had a hard time keeping her eyes open. So instead of fighting it, she headed to bed. The restoration could wait until tomorrow...maybe...

***

Late the next morning, Dakota was still in a slight daze as she dressed for the day in a pair of jean shorts and loose top with a white jacket before heading downstairs and grabbing her bag and car keys. She needed coffee right now and yet, she didn't feel like being home today. Her day off. Well, Sunday were slow days and she had learned a long time ago that it was best to keep the shop closed, at least until tourist season started again in a few weeks.

The coffee shop she entered wasn't too busy so the line for ordering went pretty fast as she ordered a cup of coffee and a bagel. She grabbed a free morning paper from the rack and picked a table near the back of the coffee shop. As she was settling in, she glanced at the front page of the paper and saw a picture of a crime scene... her coffee forgotten, Dakota read the headline and looked at the picture of the crime scene tape that was surrounding a car.

She read the story.

Just like she saw in her vision.

There was a number at the end of the article that was listed if anyone had any information about the case. Dakota didn't hesitate and dialed up the number. It didn't hit her until after she dialed that she needed to explain what she saw. How was she going to do that?!

As her call was answered, she stumbled through, giving her name as her eyes kept going back to the article and a name stuck out at her. Detective Frederickson. So, being as insistent as she could, hoping without sound rude, Dakota convinced them to give her his number. She couldn't go through channels with this. She needed to speak directly to the ones handling the case.

After punching in the detective's number and hitting send, Dakota waited for an answer. She was still wondering how she was going to explain this. She'd want to talk to him face to face. Over the phone wasn't going to do. It would need to be a quiet place, yet public. She didn't think it would proper to just have a cop come to her house which was still under construction. She needed peace. Serenity.

Her shop.

"Hello. This is Detective Brian Frederickson. Can I help you?"

Here goes nothing...thought Dakota as she cleared her throat and spoke, "Hello Detective... " she started and then sat up straight, which seemed to give her more confidence in her voice, "My name is Dakota Stone... and I might have some information about the case you're working on...the one with the missing woman."

He seemed genuinely interested and Dakota was surprised he agreed to meet her at her shop in an hour.

That was the good part. The bad part was, how was she going to tell him what she saw? And, would he believe her?

"Only one way to find out.." she muttered as she got her bagel to go and left the coffee shop.

 

[zydrate]

Dakota was in the back office, working on the week's books. Before that she had cleaned up the shop, rearranged some things, added some other things. She had felt the need to keep her hands busy, as well as her mind. She had thought of how to talk to this officer about what she knew and there was no real good way to say what she had to say.

Hearing the chimes to the door sound, she pushed herself away from her desk and walked out of her office and to the front. Already, she could feel tension and...skepticism? Of course, she was used to the skeptics but this one was a little more harsh than usual...if harsh was the right word.

Dakota didn't have many friends for the very reason of her...gift. It was hard to pretend she was something she wasn't. How would you explain to someone that sometimes the dead woke you up at night to talk to you or even came to visit you when you were doing something either in public or in private. And most weren't nice. Some were just plain mean. Not resembling what a normal human would like but more like what a person evolves into as the soul dies...ugly and mean.

Stepping into the main room, Dakota saw the two officers standing there, waiting. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting...I'm Dakota. Dakota Stone." She reached out a hand and shook the younger cop's hand first as their eyes met. She held his gaze a while longer before looking over at the other older gentleman and she reached out to shake his hand also but he didn't put his hand out. Instead, he stared at Dakota before speaking, "What's all this about miss...Stone."

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Dakota took a deep breath, "I...I-I think I might have something that might help you with this..." she grabbed the morning paper off the counter and showed them, "This recent missing person's incident..." she said, looking up at both detectives, hoping they wouldn't just turn and leave. She knew it was a long shot but she had to keep going if they were to believe her. "The woman...who's missing, she's a mother, obviously from what the article was saying but, I have a feeling she didn't go willingly. It may not look like it but she was forced. Forced into a vehicle..."

 

[zydrate]

Spooky Stone.

Dakota sighed as she hid a cringe with hearing that name. She knew this would come to back to haunt her and that's where she had seen the other detective from. Her past. "Yes, I have helped on a case before but," she looked at Gary, glaring at him, "No, it didn't turn out well. We both know why, right?" She told him, giving him a knowing look. "How did the internal investigation turn out anyway? Being an outsider, I was never given an update on that."

If there was one thing she was sure about it was about this case. The other one Gary was talking about had just been a time when Dakota didn't know any better and had been taken advantage of. A fall guy was needed and Dakota just happened to be there.

"Now, can we talk about this or are there other detectives I can talk to?" She said, crossing her arms under breasts as she looked from both Morrison to Frederickson.

 

[zydrate]

All that she had to say suddenly didn't seem important. It was hard enough she had been remembered by that case but the fact was someone had planted some sort of ancient, Civil War memorabilia along the trail she had thought were real readings, messed her up and she hated it when she finally figured it all out. Only it was too late, she had been discredited by then Police Chief and of course, Detective Morrison.

Pushing away from the counter she was sitting at, Dakota straightened her back and took a deep breath, "You know, you're right. What do I know?!" She eyed the fat detective, "I'm sorry for calling you here." She walked over to the door of the shop and opened it, "Again, I'm sorry."

There was no talking now. She would handle this on her own and perhaps find the missing woman without their help. Besides, she worked best when she was alone anyway.

After the two detectives left, Dakota locked up the front door and shook her head as she walked back to her office to finish up her work and then go home for the evening.

"What a waste of time..." she muttered as she tried to keep her tears in check by taking a few deep breaths as she lost herself in her work. Perhaps later she would go out to where the scene was in the paper. She knew the place just as well as any local. It wasn't more than a few miles out of town...

 

[zydrate]

It was early evening when Dakota stopped her car at the edge of the embankment and got out. She had changed into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, which was covered by a jean jacket. She even had enough sense to change into a pair of hiking boots, because of the rough terrain.

Grabbing a flashlight, she stepped out of her car and tucked the flashlight in the pocket of her jacket as she looked around. All seemed pretty quiet except for the sounds of the bayou ringing out loud and clear...at least to the untrained ear. If one didn't grow up here, then one wasn't familiar with the alligators rustling in the swamp water, or the owls nesting for the night. The crickets and the frogs were part of what brought it all together.

Closing her eyes, Dakota took a deep breath and just...listened. Listened with both her eyes and mind.

It almost felt like something was tugging at her arm...trying to get her to step forward. But she waited until she felt ready. Somethings liked to possess a person and misguide them and she knew didn't want to fall for that, so she had to resist. Let them know, even if not by words, but by actions that she would only be drawn on her terms. This was going to go her way. Not anyone or anything else was going to misguide her this time.

Although she had parked about a mile away, Dakota walked along the road, even in the dark. She hadn't bothered to turn on the flashlight just yet. She knew she was close to where the incident happened so she stopped.

Of course the car was gone so there was nothing there to go off of. But in her mind she could see the whole thing play out.

It was like she was standing there as she watched what happened. Dakota saw the woman stop her own car, in the rain. Why would someone do that? She then followed the woman's gaze and could see her talking but couldn't hear what she was saying. But she could sense the worry in her voice...and the tone of familiarity with the person she was talking to.

The man.

It was obvious a man from his stance. What bothered her was that it seemed familiar.

She never heard someone approach her...

 

[zydrate]

Dakota saw it all. But that was it. She could only see it. There was no way she could stop it.

The gun was pointed directly at her!

No, it was pointed at the old man. But it was still her. Then she heard the voice speak.

She wanted to break out of it so bad but couldn't. It was as if a pair of strong hands were holding her back. Keeping her from moving or speaking. She was basically frozen by something unknown.

But it was known to her what it was.

Then she heard the shouting of the detective and then it was all over but he was still pointing his gun at her as she fell to her knees. The unknown force finally letting her go.

She called to him and cried out, her hands stopping her from falling face down in the mud. She took a few deep breaths and shook her head as if that would help. God, she hated when that happened. It happened only twice before and both times it left her weak and out of breath.

Dakota held up a hand to stop the detective as he approached and she stood up shakily, her knees muddy from the wet dirt from the light falling rain. “Just stop... stop..” she said as her head started to pound with pain. She hadn't realized she dropped her flashlight as she started to walk away, “I'm sorry Detective...I didn't...I just wanted to see the area and perhaps....I don't know...” she continued to walk to where she parked down the road.

 

[zydrate]

When the detective repeated word for word exactly what she had heard made Dakota stop as she opened her car door. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. Still feeling out of it, Dakota finally looked at him, “I didn't know that's what I said..and no, I don't speak French.”

Why did that sound familiar? That phrase... you will have your chance to save and fail three times...after you fail, you die...

It was something she had heard before but she couldn't exactly remember. Seeing that the detective was looking at her and waiting for an answer, all Dakota could do was shake her head, “Look, I'm sorry Detective, I need time to think about it but I've heard that before....I just don't remember where.... So why don't you run back to your boss and tell him I failed yet again so I can be the laughing weirdo again with your department.”

With that, she got in her car and started it. She didn't care to look at the man as she turned the small car around and took off for the main road and headed home. It was late and she felt like shit....either from that little episode or from talking with the detective...maybe it was a little of both but she just needed to get away and go home.

 

[zydrate]

As soon as she got home, Dakota tore off her jacket as she ran upstairs to the room she had used for storage after moving into the house. She turned on the light and looked around her room. There was something in particular she was looking for...it belonged to her Grandmother.

After an hour of frantically looking through boxes, Dakota stopped and took a few deep breaths. She needed to calm down. She needed to think and remember where exactly she had put it or if it was even packed...

Getting up from the mess, she headed downstairs to make some tea. And judging from the time, she figured she should make something to eat too.

As she prepared the teapot and set it on the stove, she quickly grabbed some left overs from the freezer and put them in the microwave. By the time everything was ready, her mind had calmed down somewhat as she went over everything regarding the missing woman and then the place she was taken... even the little episode with the detective. The whole thing made her feel so..dirty. Her mind. Her actions--everything, was taken over as she fought to get it away from her. She had fought pretty good which was probably why she was pretty out of it when she left the detective and drove off.

After you fail, you die...

That was the part that got her. It was something she had heard before...from an old ghost story her grandmother had told her when she was small... it was the same mantra repeated by the 'bad' person in the story.

She had to find that book.

 

[zydrate]

Dakota had tried and tried to reach the detective whom she ran into tonight. But there was no answer. Perhaps he was peeved at her too when she wouldn't be more open to him when he found her at the crime scene.

She had spent a better part of her night looking for the book her grandmother used to read to her about the sailor and the haunted ship he had come across. It finally made sense about the quote the detective had told her. She knew she had heard it before and now she knew where. Although she had only though it to be a child's ghost story but she had researched it more and it seemed that, over 200 years ago, all that the story had said was true. Now, on certain nights, a man in a captain's uniform could be seen walking around the bayou. He was mean and spiteful so it was best not to confront him or even get in his way for very evil things would become of the person who did so.

Now, Dakota had to tell this to the only person who would believe her but now, she couldn't get him to answer her calls.

Perhaps there was one more way to get to him but it would be a route she'd rather not take. But she was desperate. So, with a heavy sigh, she dialed up Detective Morrison's number and hoped to hell he wouldn't answer...

But, he did and he didn't sound too happy to hear from Dakota, "I am kind of busy here so what do you want Dakota?"

She took a deep breath, "I'm trying to reach Detective Frederickson, but his phone keeps going to voicemail. I really need to speak to him..do you know where he's at? Or perhaps another number I may reach him at? Please, it's important.."