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Last Gasps

 Paranormal

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GASPS chief Investigator KyL Cobb.

See his adventures at SirKyl.com

Sometimes great storms begins with the lightest of mists. This is the story of how the Last Gasps began.

Origins

Confessions of a Paranormal Investigator

By KyL T. Cobb, Jr.

Willing to believe you?

Fate moves in strange ways. Sometimes opportunity doesn’t just knock, it kicks the door in and shakes you until you know exactly what it wants.

Suddenly, there is a moment when you realize that you have spent your whole life just preparing for the challenge in front of you. For a single shiny moment, all your experiences and dreams converge into a crystal clear path.

Of course, there are times when you are sitting in a dark, haunted house and looking for a demon that you question your direction. No matter what television tells you, nothing prepares you for the smell of a house that was deserted in the middle of the night with only the dog left behind.

A decade ago, I never would have dreamed that I would be a paranormal investigator. In fact, even as I sit looking for the red-eyed demon in this stale air, I still don’t know if I believe.

Back in September 2006, I had never even seen a ghost hunt TV show. I remember the day I met Jason and Grant from TAPS, I didn’t even know what they did. They were just two really nice guys that had a new show on the Sci-Fi channel. There was something about them that I really liked. They felt genuine. Therefore, after the interview was done, I made it a point to buy their DVDs and to see what I was missing. What made their show different was they, more often than not, proved that places weren’t haunted (well, at least for the first few years!).

For most people, this is the point where the fascination ends and I become just another fan of the show. In a saner universe, that is what happened.

Unfortunately, my life has never been normal. Prior to my encountered with TAPS, I spent the prior two decades exploring the religions and the ruins of the ancient world. Crawling through tombs, scaling pyramids and watching magic ceremonies had simply been waypoints along the way to enlightenment. The adventures cost me a bit of my health and a bit of my soul but the price I paid for the revelations was clearly equivalent exchange.

Not stopping with watching a few television shows, I dived into the literature on the subject like a dehydrated man into a watering hole. No book was too dry or too complex on the subject. I would often read poorly written “tourist” books just to find only the one line in the book that added dimension to my understanding. From Old English to Latin to Egyptian, wherever I could find knowledge, I searched.

Imagine my surprise when I received the call in mid-April 2010 asking if I could meet with a 23-year-old young lady to discuss the haunting she was experiencing. I told my friend that Ghost hunting was not something I was experienced enough to do but she insisted that the meeting take place.

I had become a victim of my own local overexposure. Because of my stories and thanks to my website, many of my friends had kept track of my odysseys over the years. They had heard stories of witch-women healing me or death rituals. They had seen photos of me crawling through tombs or praying in sacred locations.

Now that one of my friends had encountered a young lady that was terrified of a ghost and afraid it would hurt her son, they called me for help.

At that particular point in my life, the idea of hunting ghosts was the farthest thing from my reality. True, much earlier in life I had faced a demon. I had also experienced healing magic that defies western knowledge. I knew the pain of a curse for violating a tomb. Frankly, ghosts were not real to me.

Even though I had read dozens of books on the subject, this was only an intellectual exercise. None of the research was conducted with the idea of acting on the information. I was simply working to become enlightened.

As I begin to relate the next story, I will be deliberately vague to protect the client’s identity. What she experienced is both very personal and very traumatic. When she wants to make her side public, it will be under her terms. For now, I will do my best to relate the background as faithfully as I can. For ease of reference, I am going to call this client AJ.

Beyond the particular details of the case, the most important thing that I carried away from my first discussion with AJ was that she was both sincerely scared for herself and her child. Whether or not there was supernatural involvement became secondary to remedying the fear.

My reporter days ensured I had a notepad to take notes as AJ related her tale. I was shocked at the activity she presented.

I was in way over my head. Nevertheless, I told AJ that I would find her professionals to help her and I would personally make sure the cost would be covered.

 

I spent the next 4 days researching various ghost hunting groups in the Atlanta area. Almost all of them had negative reputations. Some of the clubs charged fees. Many of the organizations, including the national group affiliates, also ran ghost tours businesses. At least two of the groups in the past had presented photos of thumbs, bugs and dust clouds at comic book conventions claiming to have captured ghosts on film. Most of the websites hadn’t been updated in years.

In short, no one seemed non-profit, scientific and credible enough to help AJ.

The decision was simple enough. If I couldn’t find a team to help her, I would make one.

Five thousand dollars and a week later, I had convinced my two best friends to accompany me on the kind of road trip that you only see in the movies. Equipped with video cameras, energy detectors and digital audio recorders, we counted down the days until the event.

Unfortunately, the events at the Perkerson House were running on their own schedule.

If I were to continue at this junction, I would be doing you a great disservice. As you may have noticed earlier, I failed to tell you the story that AJ related to me.

AJ’s tale began innocently enough. She was a single mother in her early twenties. Her son was two when the curtain first rises on the story.

AJ attended a small party held by one of her friends. At some point after a great deal of alcohol had been consumed, the host brought out their Ouija board. The host was a self-professed witch and claimed to have her own personal spirit that she would speak with through the board.

Now, before I continue let me firmly state that a Ouija board is simply a hundred year old toy made by Hasbro or any number of fine toy manufacturers. It is based on a thousand year old tradition of planchette writing used for divination. But let me also tell you, ask any occultist, paranormal investigator or Catholic priest and they will tell you to stay away from the witch boards.

On this night, AJ did not heed the warning.

Less than an hour after “talking” with the board, AJ’s two-year-old son (Insert outrage here that a two year old was at a drinking party!) kept walking to the glass door and pointing at the tree just outside. Repeatedly, he kept looking at the tree and saying, “Man.”

An insignificant moment... a point in time that at any other place, with any other circumstances would have been just another meaningless rambling toddler. Instead, this moment became the start of something far more sinister.

The next few months seemed uneventful. Sure, there was a strange open cabinet here and there. Maybe there was a door or two that were closed before bed and now were mysteriously open. Things like that often happen when there is a child in the house.

How many months had passed since the party when the feeling that someone was watching started? Of course, there was no one in the house. Just in case, better make sure the doors and windows are locked tight.

When did the whispering start in the night? Were there the sounds of a crying baby? Maybe it was only a dream but then why was there whispering when she was awake?

Did her son Chandler hear it too? He was always talking to his new imaginary friend. They seemed to always be playing together. He talked about the man with red eyes frequently. Still, every child has imaginary friends that can be as fantastical as anything on the television.

Why did she stay in the house the first time she was sleeping alone and felt someone rollover in the bed beside her? Or had lack of sleep from the bed vibrating night after night dulled her to the shock?

It was April and he was in her car. He was sitting there in her rear view mirror.

AJ needed help and we were assembled.

In the tick of a clock or the beat of a heart, things can change. Life is funny sometimes. We plan for “A” and then “B” happens totally derailing our plans. The Wednesday before our investigation was to begin, I got a telephone call.

27 April, 3 days before the investigation, 1:30am

The girl at the other end was speaking a million miles an hour and crying as she spoke.

AJ arrived at home to meet her boyfriend. His car was parked in the driveway. As she pulled up to park, she observed her boyfriend holding back the curtain in the living room of the house to greet her.

“There was this guy… only there wasn’t this guy…,” she blasted forward. “He was looking out the window when I got home. I was meeting…,” and she must have rambled on for a minute or two indiscernibly. “And, his car was in the drive-way, so I assumed he was in the house, only as I got out of my car, he got out of his… So, the man looking out of the window could only be a burglar. My boyfriend ran to the door, unlocked it and searched the house.”

Clearly, there was a thief!

“No one was there. The house was completely locked.”

That statement hung there for a moment in much the same way that a whale dropped from a passing airplane would hang above you. I jumped into the conversation to try to catch her and slow her down a bit. Splat! Suddenly, I was knee deep in paranormal blubber.

“Then we sat down,” she continued. “We tried to calm down by watching TV and…”

There may have been mention of other methods of calming down… and if this were an R-rated movie or an HBO show, those methods may get mentioned, but for now simply wrap your mind around the idea that they were relaxing.

“So we sat on the couch watching this movie with every light in the house on. Then suddenly, a series of clicking noises and the house was dark. My boyfriend stood up and moved to the breaker boxes… {a series of clicks} and the lights were on. Then more clicks and we were in darkness. BOOM! Every door in the house slammed. We dropped everything and ran out of the house.”

Needless to say, the events scared the couple so badly that they dropped everything when they fled. In fear, they had literally left cigarettes burning and a dog in the garage.

The next morning AJ started apartment hunting with six months on the current lease.

So Friday, 1st May, I find myself standing in the front yard talking to a very nervous young lady telling me the latest events. This was her first time back at the house since fleeing.

She is clearly agitated and definitely afraid. Even so, I convince her that she is safe and persuade her to give me a tour of the Perkerson house.

The smell of rotting, uneaten food and dog urine are almost incapacitating as we enter the house. The dog had been retrieved the day prior but he had left a mark on the house that even a spirit would have a hard time enduring. Fighting back my gag reflex, I struggled to maintain my composure as we walked through the 1950s ranch-style house. With three bedrooms at one side of the house and a converted garage playroom at the other, the dwelling was gigantic for the small rent AJ was paying.

Having completed the tour, AJ left just in time for the arrival of my three recruits. This first team consisted of my best friend Matt, his fifteen-year-old son Matthew and Lois. All three of them knew the risks and all three charged forward.

The first time we set up took hours and it was only by divine intervention that we assembled all the components in the dark.

30 April, 22:45 (10:45pm) The hunt begins.

The thing that television completely fails to teach about ghost hunting is the sheer volume of time that you sit talking to yourself in the dark. The hunt is not the few minutes that the television edits present. Much like fishing, the art of ghost hunting is talking to “spirits” that may or may not be there for hours.

Far worse, is that your speech cannot be free flowed. Rather, the speech is very direct and controlled to solicit specific short responses. “Is anyone here? Can you speak to us? Will you knock 2 times? Can you touch or hit Lois?”

The speech is simple and slow to allow the spirit a chance to gather the energy needed to respond.

So we sit in teams of two or three in the dark.

23:27 (11:23pm)

As Matt and I sit working the living room, a light without a light source moves from AJ’s bedroom into the second bedroom. It moves with the speed of a bird between the rooms.

23:52 (11:52pm)

As the night drags on, the darkness starts to play tricks on you. The shadows start to dance around. Your eyes start experiencing pareidolia and random shadows transform into familiar objects. Even if there is a particular extra dark shadow in the corner seeming to move and stare at you, you can’t be certain.

Talking to yourself without a response also makes you want to get a response… any response… even a negative one. At one point, I shout, “Do you want us to leave?” And the temperature drops 10 degrees around me.

00:07 (12:07am)

Matt and I keep trying to talk to ourselves without asking questions regarding our own sanity. Suddenly, for the first time, the EMF energy detector starts reacting solidly to a presence and the audio records capture the sound of something exhaling hard into it. For a minute, the EMF detector stays active and then the phenomenon passes. Once again there is a bright flash of light from AJ’s bedroom but secondary cameras show no external causality. Matthew asks the spirit to make the EMF detector light up to show how many spirits are in the house. One solid light. After a pause, he asks again. One solid light in response.

00:38 (12:38am)

Lois enters the house as a ghost hunter for the first time. Because she is clearly nervous about the experience, she starts impulsively cleaning the coffee table in the living room. Immediately, the EMF detector reacts with a strong energy signature for almost a minute.

01:07 (01:07am)

Matt realizes that one of the digital video recorders with a 6-hour battery has suddenly been drained after only 45 minutes. Matt changes the battery while giving his son a pep-talk before the session. What Matt doesn’t know is that a few moments after the camera is back to recording, one of the audio recorders picks an unknown male voice in that room saying “Watch” or “Watch this.”

01:14 (01:14am)

As part of the camera design for the house, most cameras watch each other’s approach to prevent tampering. At 01:14, the camera watching the doorways to the three bedrooms shows the light in the guest bedroom going out. The assumption is the low-light digital camera in that room has a low battery and, therefore, terminated operations. This event goes unnoticed by investigators in the house at the time.

What no one could guess is the camera is experiencing our first direct contact with an event. While the room was dark to the outside, the view from the off-line camera would later prove different. Unbeknownst to the team, a shadowy object approaches and shakes the camera for several seconds and then moves away from the camera. Following the event, the camera returns to normal operations.

01:27 (1:27am)

AJ’s room has the sound of movement coming from it. A careful inspection reveals nothing. Suddenly, the EMF detector reacts to a strong energy presence for two minutes. And then, nothing. For 45 minutes, not a single response is registered. The long process of packing the equipment begins.

03:00 (3:00am)

By this point, the team is tired but we are so excited from a successful hunt that we are standing outside the house still talking. In mid-speech, Matt stutters and Lois shrieks. Something just lifted the blinds up in AJ’s bedroom in the now locked house.

Rushing back inside, all four of us are standing in the doorway of her bedroom looking for a logical cause.

BOOM… BOOM… BOOM… comes a pounding on the closed door of the child’s room behind us…

I am not betraying any secrets when I say I think I caught a whiff of human urine as Matthew and Lois bolted to the front door. As for me, I can tell you even a broken heart can skip a beat or two.

Behind the little boy’s door, absolutely nothing awaited us. We searched for a good ten minutes for some answers. There weren’t any to be found.

At around 04:30, I got a call from AJ. She and her boyfriend were coming to the house to get some clothes. By that point, I was miles away but assured her she would be safe to enter the house.

Fifteen minutes later a hysterically screaming woman called to say, “There’s someone pounding on my baby’s door!”

AJ never went back into the Perkerson house. And for almost a year, she lived quietly. One day, the man with the red eyes showed up again. But that is a tale for another day.

In the Spring of 2010 Fate reached out to set the stage to join 3 friends into a paranormal investigation adventure. The text below is more or less the story of what happened to assemble the team.

The original GASPS team for the Perkerson investigation.

Kyle Truman Cobb, Jr.

Matt “Organic” Jones

Lois Rosen

Matt Jones Jr.

The Founding Members