Tracy freaked out when we walked into room 602 at the Savoy. The air was dead. The room hadn't been used for some time, and the water stains on the ceiling, the peeling wall paper, did nothing to remove the spook.
She thought when she walked in the bathroom that she was going to see a dead body in the tub.
I did my best to move some of the energy in the room, spritzing the air with my chi, which helped a little.
We changed rooms in the morning. And that night, I checked online for information on the Savoy.
The place has a history of hauntings.
I don't think ghosts are malevolent as much as they are like cold spots in a pond, residual energy, sometimes with enough stored routines that it can still attempt communication.
I think I may ask to stay in room 505 next time, the room where Betsy Ward died in her bathtub, and is said to still bathe.
Even the thought gives me the willies.
Most times, when I have had the experience of unknown energy surrounding me, after a short time, I feel safe in its midst, even curious, just like finding a cold spot in a pond.
Finding that level of cold, especially on a hot summer day, is a treasure. Being able to inhabit the space of entity long departed corporally must give that entity some repose from it's own longing, since most warm blooded corporeal creatures shun the iciness of its grasp.
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