Ghostbusters Answer The Call English Full Movie In English Free Download
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Ghostbusters Answer The Call English Full Movie In English Free Download
A smile lit up his sensual lips. "Remember me?"She peered at him. "It was your voice I heard. But what are you doing here, in my dream?""Showing you where you really belong. With me. Forever."His arms surrounded her, and they danced, their feet flying over the marble floor. "Just think, to dance like this whenever we wish."The scene changed and they were strolling in a rose garden, the man leading a large bay stallion. "Or like this, the two of us strolling among the flowers and trees, perhaps stopping to exchange a kiss in the arbor."Again the scene changed and Sherry found herself with the stranger, naked, and lying on a soft white fur rug before a fire blazing in a fireplace. A glance down and she saw how well endowed he was.He pushed her to lie on her back and he whispered in her ear. "Think of the romantic places we can make love, unlike your mean little cottage."His lips covered hers and his hand stroked her flesh.Sherry woke up, sweating heavily. Her nightgown molded damply to her skin and her hair hung in wet ropes."Sherry." The word felt like a silken caress.She flung back the covers and jumped out of bed. "Oh God, you're real, aren't you?""You doubted that I was?""I thought you were only a dream, caused from reading that book!""Ah yes, Spectre Dreams and Visitations. But they can be more.Just come to me."She asked, "How?""The book. It has all the answers."The last word echoed, fading away and leaving Sherry in the silence of her darkened room. She bounded out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, where she pulled the book out of the trash. Tomato stains dotted the coverand lettuce leaves hung off it. She wiped it off and then clutching it tightly to her chest, she wandered into the living room. She turned on the lamp by her chair, kneeling down beside it.With a flip of a fingernail she opened the book to the page she has last read:The beautiful young woman opened the book to the page she had last read and saw how she would be able to enter that dream world where she had danced, strolled, and loved.Her finger shook as she traced the sentence with it.Sherry's eyes widened with disbelief. A sound broke into her thoughts. She looked up and saw that he stood before her, a hand held out to her."It's time," he said. "Join me, ease my loneliness ... and yours."Something within her compelled her to place her hand in his and he helped her off the floor. The next moment they were dancing away in the ballroom of her dreams, laughing at some witty remark he had made.Later he led her into a large library, overfilled with books lining massive oak bookcases standing stiffly against the walls, remindingSherry of soldiers at attention. She let go of his hand and ran over to one bookcase, selecting a book wedged in with the others.She read the title: Clarice. Puzzlement on her face, she turned around and looked at him. "Clarice?"He smiled fondly. "She was a sweet petite redhead, with a fondness for peppermints and pepperoni pizza. I believed that's what she told me."Sherry turned back to the books and saw that the titles all had women's names on the spines. She flipped open the book in her hand and read it. With a quick scan she read a paragraph here and there, finishing it with the last paragraph at the end of the story. Her eyes widened and the book fell from her hand, hitting the hardwood floor with a soft thud. A moan issued from it as if someone cried out in pain.Sherry stared at the handsome man before her, a hand pressed against some books on one shelf."That was niece of the woman at the yard sale. The one who died and whose book of ghost stories I bought. My God, who or what are you?"He arched an eyebrow. "Why, merely a collector of fine books.And I think you'll make a splendid story for a book, don't you?" His lips formed into a cruel smile.Sherry screamed as she felt her body contorting and shrinking.* * * *He held the slim volume and smiled at the title.Sherry. She would make a fine addition to the library.* * * *Sherry didn't appeared at work the following Monday, and after two days her co-workers, worried as she hadn't called in sick and didn't answer the phone calls they made, got the landlord to open her place.They found her dead, leaning back against her overstuffed chair, the book lying open on her lap. It was on the last page of the story, her finger pointing to the last sentence. Quickly, the landlord dialed911 on her phone.One of Sherry's co-workers, a small, plump, dark-haired woman named Jeanne Callen carried Spectre Love Tales to her mini van.One of the paramedics had placed it on the coffee table so they could carried Sherry's body away. It seem as if it kept catching her eye and finally she picked it up and took it. She reasoned that the book would be boxed up anyway with the rest of Sherry's things and donated to a thrift store or something, so why shouldn't she take it for herself. It gave the landlord one less thing to pack.She got in and threw the book onto the seat beside her. It hit the seat with a muffled thud and a woman's scream. Jeanne stared at the book.She shook her head and started the van. There was no way she heard a scream, was there?But a shame about Sherry, really it was. But then she had been an introvert and deep into reading horror novels and all that scary stuff. And it seem that finally she let that supernatural junk get to her, until it killed her.Now, Jeanne loved a good love story and though these love stories appeared to be spooky ones, well, so what? A love story was a love story. It was the only way she'd ever meet a good-looking man...* * * *Gray DustThe old movie theater stood, a shadow-ridden hulk of its former colorful majestic splendor. If you look beyond this peacock turned gray, home to termites and small scurrying spiders, you could see that in its heyday, the '20s-'40s, that it had been something to behold.Then, going to see the movies was an experience worth in itself, the movies an afterthought.I was here to write an article for the newspaper that I worked for, based on my experience of spending the last night of the Splendor's life before the wrecking ball demolished it. About a year from now a twenty theater multiplex would be here. Would the ghosts that supposedly haunt the Splendor still be there in the new surroundings?Were there even ghosts at all, or just people's own imaginations working overtime? That's what I was here for, to find out.So here I was, book bag of needed stuff slung over my right shoulder, waiting for the theater's owner that my editor, John Fett, had contacted. On hearing the noise of a car pulling up, I turned around. Ifound myself blinded by the car's lights. The next moment they were gone and I saw an old man slowly walking up to me, a flashlight in hand.He stopped and I extended my right hand. "Hello ... Mr. Clark, right? Well, I'm Jennifer Knight of the Newsport Local and I want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to spend the last night at theSplendor."He didn't take my offered hand, instead he eyed it with distaste.He grunted, "Don't thank me. I have misgivings about the whole idea and really don't want you staying in there tonight. If you're still here in the morning when I return for you, you can thank me then. All right?"I heard jingling noises and saw that he had a large old fashioned golden key on a key ring. He walked away from me and went around to the alley next to the theater. I saw a small side door and it was into its lock that he inserted the key, unlocking it. Beyond the opened doorway I could see nothing, only a yawning darkness. I turned my flashlight on, for the lights had been disconnected, and the light picked up dust motes dancing in its beam. I stopped just on the other side of the doorway when I noticed that Mr. Clark hadn't followed mein. I looked back and saw him standing on the outside, his flashlight still on. The light from his flashlight was aimed up at his face, turning it into a caricature of a monster's face. I was further spooked when he spoke, his voice hollow-sounding, as if he were within an empty tomb."Once I shut this door, that's it--no chance to change your mind."I could feel something like butterflies fluttering in my stomach, butI still grinned. "I have everything I need: a blanket to keep warm, my flashlight, extra batteries, couple of sandwiches and a bottle of water.I even have a tape recorder, with extra tapes, to put down my impressions.So there's no reason to worry about me. See you in the morning!""Maybe, maybe not!"The door slammed shut, cutting me off from the outside. I placed my hand on the door knob, to test and see if it was still unlocked, when I heard the click of the lock. A few twists of the knob made me realized I was locked in. I turned around and, using the beam of my flashlight, took in my surroundings. I saw boxes, shelves, and a couple of broken chairs, all covered with three inches of gray dust. This dust bothered my allergies and I sneezed several times. I cursed myself under my breath for stupidly forgetting to take my daily allergy pilland started walking. I kept running into debris that covered the splintered, wooden floor. I kicked the stuff out of my way, sending up clouds of dust that tickled my nostrils, and caused me to go into a sneezing jag again as I headed into the main part of the theater itself.I found myself in the lobby, where the concession stand stood, empty of the soda and popcorn machines. The glass cases were devoid of the colorful boxes of candy. The only thing inside them now was the same gray dust coating the theater.I laughed at myself and turned on my tape recorder, talking into it."Well, what did I expect? Ghosts don't eat and surely I didn't expect to find the spirits of candy bars, tubs of popcorn and plastic cups filled to the brim with ghostly soda."I left the area and entered the theater proper. There were dustcovered seats, their plush red velvet faded and raggedly, strips of velvet trailing to the dusty detritus that covered the sticky wooden floor.The screen, once white as snow and whirling with moving pictures, now stood silent, splattered with dried spots of thrown soda pop and greasy popcorn. I looked around for the most dust free seat I could find to park myself in for the night and finally found one in the middle. Ipounded on it, gray dust rising up into the air and making me sneeze repeatedly. Once I got the seat as clean as I could get it, I sat down.After putting my book bag in the seat next to me, I placed the tape recorder on top of it and kept recording my thoughts about the theater.I had been doing that for a while, the theater silent except for my voice droning, when I heard the laugh.I jumped up. "Hello? Who's there?!"A door slammed. The sound had come from the lobby. Was someone playing a joke on me, knowing I was staying the night in theSplendor investigating the hauntings? I bet Mr. Clark was behind this, trying to scare the bejesus out of me!I headed for the lobby, my tape recorder in one hand, flashlight in the other, and called out along the way. "Hello, hello? Come on, quit playing ghosts!"I entered the lobby and looked toward the concession stand. WhatI saw next shocked me. A tall young man dressed in a short red jacket and red pants with a black stripe down the side, a red pillbox hat perched jauntily on his blonde head, was handing a tub of popcorn over the counter to a pretty young woman. She had long red hair done up in banana curls and was dressed in a gray dress and black pumps that was fashionable back in 1940. They were both laughing, him in deep guffaws, her in pert giggles and were outrageously flirting with each other.I was sure now that someone had hired some actors (even thoughI still couldn't figure out how the concession stand, now filled to capacity with food, had been stocked without me hearing anything) and Istomped up to them. "Who the hell are you? And who hired you to do this? Mr. Clark?"Both stopped their laughing and flirting, and turned to look at me.Their faces grew still like stone, the color of the dust that was everywhere in this theater. Silent they stood there, granite-faced, and didn't answer me. I raised my hand and tapped the young man's shoulder.To my shock it passed through! Both of them vanished, along with everything else.I backed away from what now had become once more an empty concession stand. "My God, I saw real ghosts!"Fear made my feet take off and I ran back into the theater. Islowed down by the time I got to the entrance, as I realized with growing excitement that I now had something great for my article. Real ghosts! All my life I hadn't believed in anything supernatural, at least, not until now. I rewound my recorder, played it back and heard their laughing on the tape!I re-entered the theater and found myself in a place filled with people: men, women, and children, all of them watching with hushed breath an old Bela Lugosi movie. It was Dracula, which had come out in 1931. As I looked around I saw the people were all dressed in clothing from that era, the women in dresses with the hems down to mid calf, the men in suits. Bela stopped talking to Edward van Sloan who played Van Helsing and they turned toward the audience.Bela pointed to where I was standing. "You do not believe in things not cut and dried like your newspaper articles, but now you see the truth, Miss Knight." He uttered these words in a Hungarian accented lisp.The people in the theater stopped watching the screen and turned to look at me, their eyes cold and accusing, their faces the color of gray dust.I giggled wildly and I couldn't stop. Like a madwoman, I kept giggling, while the moviegoers and the actors on the movie screen just stared at me in silence. I could see dust motes dancing in the air before me, some of which I breathed in and I went from giggling to coughing, causing me to drop my tape recorder. I turned and ran out of the theater, back into the lobby, now filled with people, again all of them dressed in clothing from three time periods, the twenties, the thirties, and the forties. They all stopped talking and laughing, becamesilent, and turned to look at me, their faces like stone. Everyone was the color of gray dust.I laughed and coughed alternately. "Gray dust, and more gray dust! Haunting must be a dusty business!" The coughing overtook the laughing and soon I was coughing up bile, choking on it. My air was cut off and I began making funny little sounds. The people continued to stand there, silent and gray. Then they walked toward me, circling me like a pride of lions surrounding a wounded zebra. I fell down, choking, watching them move closer and closer. My last sight was of their faces, gray and blank, breaking into a million little motes of graydust that filled up my nostrils, mouth, and eyes.* * * *I lifted up a hand and saw that the flesh was no longer pink, but of the same gray color as the dust in the theater. I turned my head and saw something large and round burst from the wall, with crumbling bits of the plywood flying everywhere. A wrecking ball! It slammed back through the hole in the wall, heading back outside. I saw the other ghosts breaking up, becoming molecules of dust and slipping through the opening. Not being able to stop myself, I felt myself breaking up and joined them, becoming part of the gray dust cloud, risingand spiraling up into the early morning sky.* * * *Hard Drive HauntingTania searched the Internet when she found a chat room for those interested in occult matters. She entered, using the alias GhostHunter, and noticed that three others already in the room. They were using the screen names Occult Baby, Tab1, and Vampiress.She typed in her greeting, using as her screen name, GhostHunter. "Hello,everyone."They greeted her, then continued with their chat.Unfortunately, Tania soon noticed that it wasn't about anything occult. Not unless sex was a form of occultism, she thought cynically.They tried to draw her into the steamy chat, but gave up when she obstinately remained a lurker.Damn, why can't one of these chat rooms actually be what they claim to be? Instead they're just another form of 'singles bars' for the computer age, she thought.Bored, she grabbed her slowly cooling cup of tea and took a sip.As she did, she saw out of the corner of her eye another visitor had popped in. Setting her cup down, she saw that this person didn't interact with the others, just lurked like her. What intrigued her further was the simple name the lurker used: Ghost.With quick and nimble fingers, she Instant Messaged Ghost. At first, it seemed that Ghost was going to ignore her too, when suddenly, she was IMed back.Ghost--Want to chat?Ghost Hunter--Yes. Are you into the occult, or are you like these three over-sexed people?Ghost--I don't use the Web to surf for sex. I'm here looking for answers.Ghost Hunter--Answers? To what?Ghost--To the supernatural, particularly about ghosts and hauntings.This intrigued Tania further. Was Ghost being haunted? Or was he or she looking for something different? She typed her questions in.Ghost answered her, claiming to know of a spirit attached to the earthly plane. Ghost admitted to being male.Just as they seemed to be communicating, he vanished. She waited, hoping that whatever server he used had only bumped him off and that he would return. But five minutes went by and still no Ghost reappeared in the chat room. With a sigh, she signed off, leaving theInternet completely. She spent the rest of her night watching some sitcoms on TV, then went to bed.It wasn't until the next night that Tania got back on-line. Once on she checked her e-mail before doing anything else. She noticed a new e-mail. Opening it, she saw two simple words:It's Me!What the--she thought. Just who is me? She noticed that the email bore no signature, but she did notice an e-mail address. She sent a reply, asking who he or she was, or if it was spam, to leave her alone. She then spent an hour surfing the Web.Tania returned to her e-mail one last time before getting off the computer. There, she found that the reply she had sent had came back, saying that there was no such e-mail address. Odd, she thought. Deleting the message, she was about to sign off when suddenly an IM appeared. Her real name, Tania was used, not the screen name she used on-line.Shocked, she saw who it was--Ghost! She answered his IM, asking him how he knew her real name. She hadn't let him know her name or anything personal about herself at all last night in the chat room.Ghost--I knew who you were.Tania--How can you? I didn't tell you anything personal about me last night!Ghost--LOL! ;-D Now, Tania, with the Internet today, there are endless possibilities for finding out who someone is. I have my ways.Tania--Your ways! What are you trying to get at? And since you know my real name, just who the hell are you?Ghost--LOL! Maybe I'm the result of all your dreams, Tania. ;-DTania--In your dreams maybe! More likely I'm beginning to think you're a nightmare. Please quit harassing me!Ghost--Tania, darling, harassment? :LOL: I say, more like a haunting, and this is just the beginning.Fear gripped her and with swift fingers, she signed off. She shut her computer down, and then sat in front of the blank screen, staring at it. The sound of thunder rumbled heavily, and through her windowTania saw spikes of lightning flash across the night sky. Her eyes returned to the monitor and she saw then that it was no longer blank.Somehow, it had turned itself back on!Her name blazed across the screen, in bold letters. Tania jumped up, send