An Erotic Ghost story.... Sort of.

In the long long time ago. I lived in a University town and at that time the most unique part of it was called the harbor mall. Every element of counter culture existed there. One could see punks with every shade of hair or skins with none to mention. There were the tie dyed "new" hippies and the ones with long gray beards left over. Trannies also came out to play.

Then night fell. This is when the "freaks" came out in full swing. When you began to walk on the "College street" you could close your eyes and know exactly where you were. The smell of incense would hit your nose along with the cold or snow on a winter night. Girls and boys both painted there faces white and their lips and nails black. Silver metal flashed from eyebrows, septums, lips, tounges and if you were lucky enough to see underneath nipples and genitals. Earlobes were stretched so wide you could see through them. You could hear high spiked heels clicking on the brick walk way. Preachers handed out pamphlets to try to save souls.

In the center of all of this was the legendary (locally anyway) Hall Mall. When you entered you were greeted with a very long narrow flight of stairs. At the top was an arrow composed of red, green, purple and orange light bulbs pointing the way. Under it was a sign that said, "Shoplifters Will Be Maimed!" The incense smell was thick and industrial or gothic music was the soundtrack. The heat was turned up to Hells level. This is where the children of the night gathered.

Inside were independent stores. There was a black light poster shop. A store called the Hemp Cat taught the difference between industrial hemp and marijuana. A place called Ruby Tuesday's was ran by a very strange woman. She would tell stories of Egyptian pyramids that she built in a previous life. Her store was loaded to the point of little walking space. There were clothes, jewelry, and what others would consider junk. However, the stuff she sold had really seen it's day. There was a room where you could have tarot cards read to you. There was also a tattoo shop called Electric Head. One of the artists Spotty Potty painted images of demons and devils on the walls that would have made certain people proud. The sign on the body piercing end boldly stated, "We Will Pierce Any Part of The Body!"

Last but certainly not least was a store called Moon Mystique and that is where this ghost story begins. Moon Mystique was three rooms and sold any range of book, occult objects, etc. that you could imagine. You entered the first room and there was the ritual decor, jewelry, t-shirts, "tobacco accessories" and the cash register. A fat guy with a different colored mo hawk every time you seen him ran the cash register. he also had huge spikes coming out of his eyebrows and lip along with a dotted line tattooed along his neck that said "Cut Here". (I later became friends with him and known him affectionately as Big Gay Bil.)

The second room was books and magazines. In here you would find black draped walls with esoteric knowledge on every shelf. They had books on "white light" wicca, vampires, punk fiction, gay/lesbian/trans gender literature, drug culture and Satanism.

The final room had magazines. They had everything from BD/SM, to Industrial Nation, Fast money123, Propaganda, Bizzare, The jehovas scriptures, Jim and Debbie Goad's Answer Me!, and 'zines perversions for every taste. They also had your normal run of the mill tattoo magazines which is what I was looking at when I saw her.

The tattoo magazines were along the floor so you had to squat to thumb through them. I was alone in the room. Then I heard someone walk in and looked up. The first thing I noticed was black leather thigh high boots. A little further and there was milky creamy white flesh concealed in fishnets. Followed by a very short black leather skirt. Her top consisted of what appeared to be a corset (she was also wearing a black leather jacket) which held nice, round, milky white, what appeared to be oh so soft breasts. Her hair was jet black and went past her shoulders. Her eyes were green and she had bright red lipstick on her pouty lips. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, but damn she looked good.

I began to slowly undress her with my eyes. I couldn't get over the image running my fingers (and other parts of my body) over her pale white skin under the fishnets. Embarrassed, by what I was doing, I quickly looked back down at the magazine in my hand. Then I figured that she probably knew exactly what she was doing and so I should at the very least say hi. Not a couple of seconds passed as I was thinking this when I looked back up. She was gone! Where was my dark angel? There was no exit on either side of the room. I guessed that she didn't jump through the window that over looked the street. There was only one way out. The way you went in. I put the magazine down and went back to the second room. A couple of punks were looking at books but she wasn't in there. I went to the first room. Big Gay Bil sat alone, smoking a cigarette. "Did a woman just come through here?" I asked. "Nope", said Big Gay Bil. How could this be? I went on to give her every description. "Settle down," said Big Gay Bil. "I know your horny but I don't know what to tell you." Tell me where to find her, I thought.

I walked back down the long stair case and entered the street. Cold hit my face and big snow flakes began to cover my body. I looked on both sides, no woman anywhere. I have often wondered if she was a ghost or apparition. She certainly came to me in a couple of wet dreams after I saw her. Was she a spirit? I'll never know for sure.

One thing I do know, is that since that night I have a Huge fetish for a sexy pale white woman, specifically wearing fishnets. I also know that today this town is filled with staid college kids, unimaginative preppies, jocks and the like. Almost no independent stores exist in this town let alone stores like I just described. The scene I just described, for this towns purposes, is a ghost. It is but a phantom of days gone by.