tales of the paranormal hunter

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Tales of the paranormal hunter: chapter 1 I was born on January 25th 1997 at 11 am on Sunday. Everyone was filled with joy as I was held by my father. He was an Indian with long hair, and was holding the hand of my mother. They took me to a church and made me a soldier of the order of knights. They thought I was a good person when I got older. I lived up to their expectations and even more. I am now a paranormal investigator; I have equipment to see ghost and use ghost bullets to kill them. from a .22 to a .50 cal, I’ve got them all. My first job was at a gun and horror shop at the corner of west Main Street. My first paranormal investigation was the house of Salem. I encountered the first paranormal activity, a figure in the hallway, it was all bloody, and its insides all torn out everywhere, ectoplasm leaking from the pores from its face and mangled body, I went into the bathroom and found a body in the tub, and it was also mangled beyond repair. And worse yet, the body were raspily laughing in the tub. That’s when I woke up. I was dreaming what I saw just the other day. I keep having this dream over and over. These dreams will not stop until the ghost is destroyed. I got all of my guns ready for the next night. Including the S&W model 500 revolver. The best ghost buster gun around. Just as I was loading the last cartridge, I was scared crapless by the mangled figure in the doorway. “Leave or stay with us forever” said the ghost in an Evil voice. Then they disappeared as if they weren’t even there. This ghost has got to go. If I don’t kill this thing, it will continue to terrorize the living. These unholy creatures will taste the lead of my ectoplasmic hollow points. The preferred roun... ... middle of paper ... ...om his wife. It said that his kid was born three days ago. As soon as I was done reading the letter, I knelt down in the ground and cried. That man was 22 years old; he had a wife and a new born baby. How am I going to write a letter saying what happened to him. Not an hour went by without me missing him back then. After the war, I adopted his kid. I trained him the way his father wanted me to. Before the war, we were paranormal investigators, so I taught his kid our trade. His name is Christopher, as in the saint. I have decided not to give Christopher an option on whether to join the military or not. My answer is most definitely no. I will not have Christopher experience the horrors of war and having to live with the fact of having seen them. He will choose a field that will cause little to no harm to him and he will excel at this field of work.
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