I am Haunted: Living Life Through the Dead (13 page)

At a particular point, though, the exhaustion finally caused my temper to boil over.

On the last day of filming, I was asleep in my hotel room. I had filmed all night the previous night and had hiked something like five miles through the catacombs with the cataphiles. After two full, intense days, my knees and back ached and I just wanted to sleep a little, but my producers pressed me to squeeze in more interviews, so I got up and complied. I was so tired that I had to wear sunglasses because my eyes were double-bagged. In these situations, it’s a challenge to stay engaged in the interview, but you have to keep up your energy no matter what your state of mind, or you lose your enthusiasm and then lose the viewers. Stale interviews are land mines in TV. As soon as it gets boring, people change the channel, and your ratings get blown to bits.

As the camera crew was setting up for the interview in a beautiful historic plaza, I noticed a nearby concession stand that was selling Nutella crepes. I love those things. Nutella is like Axe Body Spray; chicks love the smell of it. The person who makes Nutella cologne will be a billionaire. Anyway, I ran over to the stand to grab a crepe, and Jay, one of my camera guys, followed me. As I stood in line, Jay was shooting me through the opposite window of the concession stand so he could see my face when the owner suddenly lost his temper.

Something set this guy off, because once he saw Jay, he started screaming at him to give him the camera footage and his SIM card. Then he started yelling at a female crew member who had come over to help. He tried to grab the camera from Jay’s hands, and the next thing we knew, the dude held up a knife. The situation escalated quickly, and I snapped. I was tired, hungry, and generally grumpy when this guy threatened to kill a member of my crew.

Oh, hell no.

I yelled at him to come around to my side of the stand so I could beat his ass, and I had to be carried away by more crew members. I was incensed that he had threatened my people and wanted blood. We actually got the whole incident on film, but we decided not to use it because it didn’t contribute to the story, and in the end Paris was good to me. I knew that this incident wasn’t indicative of that great city. This is the fortunate part of working around a lot of cameras: You can record everything and use the footage to defend yourself when people make false claims about you.

After calming down a little, I went into the interview with my guest, Father Sebastiaan, who had witnessed the whole incident. I’m sure he thought I was crazy in the beginning, but we ended up having a great interview and even became friends. He was so knowledgeable about many different facets of the catacombs and the Paris subculture. By then, we already had a lot of great material, but his insight was invaluable.

One of the things Father Sebastiaan told me was the story of King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, who were both executed by guillotine during the French Revolution. After their execution, the people threw their bodies into the catacombs, and even though the bodies have been exhumed and moved, parts of them are still believed to be down there. It’s kind of crazy to think that there could be royalty carelessly tossed in among the millions of skeletons lining the catacombs. You could be walking through the tunnels and pick up a random skull and not even know that it once belonged to a king or queen.

After the interview, Father Sebastiaan told me that he is the Master Fangsmith for the Sabretooth Vampire Clan. Yes, there really is such a group. It has several thousand members, and he’s one of the head honchos. The Sabretooth Clan is one of the largest in the world, so this was very cool to me, especially when he asked if I wanted to be initiated into the clan. How could I refuse?

“Z
AK IS A NATURAL ADDITION TO THE
S
ABRETOOTH
C
LAN AND
F
AMILY
. W
E ARE HIGHLY PASSIONATE ABOUT OUR OWN CREATIV E ENDEAVOURS AND HIGHLY INDIVI DUALI STIC WITH OUR OWN LI FE GOALS AND PATHS
. W
HAT MAKES THE
S
ABRETOOTH
C
LAN STRONG IS THIS DIV ERSITY OF INDIVI DUALS INSPIRING EACH OTHER AND NOT COMPETING
. Z
AK IS AN INSPIRATION FOR EACH INDIVIDUAL TO TRULY BE WHO THEY ARE AND FIND THEIR OWN
‘V
AMPIRE
G
IFTS’ AND FOLL OW THEM INTENSELY.
”

—
F
ATHER
S
EBASTIAAN

It seemed like fate in a way. I’ve always been intrigued by the vampire culture, and long ago I met a group of vampires in Scotland (which I wrote about in
Dark World
). I kind of feel like I
am
a vampire—not in the way Hollywood portrays vampires, but in the way the vampire culture really is. Vampires train their souls for the afterlife and train to live as immortals after their first death. Everyone thinks vampires are the way they’re portrayed in movies—they drink blood, have super powers, and are immortal. That’s not the way I am. Just like there are different sects of a religion, there are different kinds of vampires. Vampirism to me is a way to prepare your soul for the afterlife and be comfortable with your own dark side. It’s hard to put into words, but it’s a fascination that’s turned into an addiction that’s turned into a reality now that I’m part of the Sabretooth Clan.

Father Sebastiaan asked me to meet him in the basement of a gothic bar so I could be initiated in the White Rite. As the Master Fangsmith, he molded and sculpted my own set of vampire fangs and welcomed me into the order. It just so happens that he’s a dental technician, too, so his casts are some of the best and most authentic in the world. He’s made fangs for many famous people, so he’s legit. (He is also the author of
Vampire Magick
and
Vampire Virtues,
which are fascinating reads.)

When I put the fangs in my mouth, they just felt right. They made me feel different, and I embraced it. It’s almost like wearing a cloak of power that protects me when I encounter evil spirits. The fangs are a symbol, like any other religious symbol that empowers your soul and represents the virtues by which you live your life.

My background in communicating and developing deeper connections with spirits was valuable to Father Sebastiaan’s work. As the High Priest of the clan, he develops and preaches the gospels that guide us, and my work with the afterlife is a part of that. It helped get me inducted into the clan, and I was happy to accept this gift, no matter how tired I was after three days of intense filming.

IT MADE THE WHOLE TRIP WORTHWHILE.

Can a human being harbor a second spirit?

Here’s a theory: We travel the world looking for ghosts and waiting for spirits to show themselves at all hours of the day and night, desperately seeking that moment when they’ll make themselves clear to us. But what if they’re right in front of us the whole time and we just can’t see them? What if there are spirits living inside the people we encounter every day?

Typically, when heinous acts occur in a house, the location is stigmatized. (Think of the Sharon Tate murders in the mansion on Cielo Drive north of Los Angeles.) The house is demolished, the address is changed, and a new structure is built to erase the shame. But it doesn’t always work, and the spirits carry on.

The second you set foot on the property at Fox Hollow Farm in Carmel, Indiana, you can feel that something very bad happened there. Our trip to the farm to film an episode of
Ghost Adventures
was weird and disturbing. The bodies of eleven men were discovered on the property in the 1990s, and the owner, Herb Baumeister, was suspected of luring them all there to kill them (and was suspected of nine more murders away from the farm). Baumeister never confessed to the murders and committed suicide before he could be convicted, so one of the worst serial killers in American history remains a mystery.

Still, it’s an undeniable fact that eleven men were killed on that farm. It may seem strange, but to me it felt like every piece of that property was holding onto those grisly deaths. It was infected, as if the bodies had fertilized the ground with their anger, as if nature itself had been affected by those heinous acts.

While we were doing our research on Fox Hollow Farm, I learned the details of Herb Baumeister’s suicide. He fled to Ontario, Canada, and was found dead of a gunshot to the head on a bed of sand on the shores of Lake Huron. He was found with his arms straight out and dead birds surrounding him. He killed himself in a ritualistic way, and that stuck with me.

Rob and Vicki Graves were the owners of the farm when we conducted our investigation. When I interviewed them and stared into their eyes, I could tell that something wasn’t right. I felt like it wasn’t them I was seeing. It was beyond them being uncomfortable; it was as if Herb’s spirit was affecting them. Vicki seemed more submissive than I felt she should have been, and I’d read that Herb had the same relationship with his wife, Julie (who refused to let the police search the house for months until she was convinced that Herb was up to no good and had filed for divorce). Was he in the room, projecting himself onto the family like he had done to Julie?

This uneasy feeling combined with a strange heaviness inside the house put me in a mood. The air felt stagnant, and in nearly every room I felt like I was being watched, which affected me. I wasn’t my typical loud, enthusiastic, effervescent self, and I wasn’t clear. I wasn’t conducting a good interview, but I felt like I had the engine of a fifty-year-old car whose oil had never been changed. I was sluggish and lethargic and couldn’t figure out why. Moments like this lead me to ask: Are the people who live in places plagued by gruesome events carrying those spirits inside them?

There’s a theory in the paranormal community called the Stone Tape Theory, which says that certain natural materials can act like tape recorders and store the energies of the living. According to this theory, an event, usually one that involves a great deal of emotion or trauma, can somehow be captured in the stonework surrounding it and then replay like a recording under certain conditions. For example, an apparition of a miner running down a tunnel yelling, “Cave in!” could be an event that was recorded by the rocks themselves. The energy from that event is stored and can be released at any given moment, resulting in a playback that can be both heard and seen. The spirit usually acts out the event with no regard for the living in its presence.
*

Fox Hollow Farm has barely been renovated since the Baumeister family lived there. It has an intercom system, and each time I touched it, I had visions of Herb using it to try to hunt down his victims inside the house. In the kitchen there was a 1980s can opener that popped up out of the counter. I pushed a button and it popped up, and I imagined Herb opening a can of beans with it. The Stone Tape Theory suggests that objects like these that were present during traumatic events can hold onto those events. But can
people
harbor the spirits of those who are no longer with us?

Baumeister killed himself in a ritualistic manner for a reason. Serial killers have to have control and work off of controlling their victims. They’re smart. They kill and get away with it, often for a long time. That takes meticulous planning and intelligence, and though I’m certainly not praising them, it’s not for the idiots of the world.