Russell pulled his truck up in front of the abandoned hospital and turned it off. The large ram sat in the cab for a moment staring up at the ramshackle exterior of the ancient building. No patients had been treated here for almost a century. Most of the windows were broken out, and the brick was crumbling. Vines grew thickly up the front of the hospital and its lawns were overgrown. It certainly looked the part of being haunted. 

	The ram grunted and opened the door of his hunter green Ford and got out, his boots thumping on the cracked concrete. Weeds grew up from the cracks, nearly as tall as Russell’s knee. He grabbed a duffel bag from the passenger seat before he shut the door with a thud. The bag contained the equipment the ram would need to determine if the hospital really was haunted. 

	As Russell turned around he heard the crunching of tires behind him and saw a blue sedan pulling up behind his truck. A tall pine marten got out of it, wearing a suit. “You must be Mr. Thompson.” he called, raising a manicured hand in greeting. 

	Russell grunted as he watched the pine marten approach. “Yeah, I’m Russell. You wanted me to come out today, right?” the ram asked, extending a large, rough hand for the smaller pine marten to shake. Russell felt like he was going to crush the guy’s hand, it was so delicate. 

	“Yes, I did, Mr. Thompson. I appreciate you coming out on such short notice.” the pine marten said, withdrawing his hand and shaking it a little. Apparently even Russell’s definition of ‘gentle’ was too much for him. 

	“It’s not like I had anything else to do. Being a paranormal investigator isn’t exactly as exciting as I thought it would be.” The ram drawled, dropping his hand down to his side. He shifted the duffel bag against his knee, feeling the equipment inside rattling around. 

	“Oh? I’d think it would be very exciting!” The pine marten exclaimed curiously, his head tilted to the side and his expression quizzical. 

	“Not when you’ve never had so much as a blip on the radar of anything but rats and stupid teenagers pulling bullshit in old buildings.” Russell replied, looking back up at the hospital. “You’ve already had this place checked by the authorities, right? Last time I went into a place like this on my own I ended up having to fight off a bunch of rowdy punks.” 

	The pine marten frowned, but nodded. “Yes, I have. And even the police said that they felt something strange inside. Heard voices. Felt odd things. I think one of the cops went a little cracked from it, he had to quit the force because he became obsessed with the idea that his...uh...privates...were smaller than they were when he went in.” 

	Russell laughed. “How the fuck did you hear about that?” the ram shook his head in amazement. “If I get so much as a tingle I’ll consider this a success. I’ve not gotten anything so far in my career.” 

	“I have a friend who is a cop in the same station.” the pine marten explained, “You’ll forgive me, however, if I hope you do not find anything and I can go ahead and have this place torn down and build over it. I certainly don’t want any ghosts hanging around the property when I build here.” 

	“Yeah, yeah, I doubt you have much to worry about. I’m thinking about changing careers as it is. I’ll probably retire this crap if I don’t find anything here. Never should have fallen into this BS anyway.” Russell admitted. “You don’t have to stay on site if you don’t want to. I have your number, I can call you when I’m done.” 

	“Yeah...I think I’ll go until you’re finished, Mr. Thompson. This sort of thing is out of my depth. I’d rather it all just go away. Take care in there. It’s not condemned but it’s not the safest place either.” the pine marten said as he walked back to his car. 

	Russell watched him drive away before he turned around and looked back up at the hospital. The sun was slowly going down behind the large building, casting its shadow over the ram and his truck. “Well, I suppose I’ll go waste another night ghost hunting. I never should have started this.” He reiterated, regretting his choice of profession once more, not because he’d seen evidence of ghosts, but because he had seen none. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Evening passed into nightfall swiftly, and there was no electricity in the old building. Russell had his gear on, his night vision camera, temperature gauges, motion sensors and several other pieces of gear strapped to a vest around his chest within easy reach. He was looking down the viewfinder of his camera to see where he was going, as the hospital otherwise was pitch dark. He had some phosphorous flares, a bright flashlight and some glow sticks on his person as well in case he needed to truly see. At the small of his back there was a 9mm pistol, not for the ghosts, but for the living who might be squatting in the old abandoned places that he often explored. 

	The ram’s boots thudded hollowly on the floor of the hallway that he was walking down. The echoes chased themselves around the empty passageway. There were doors on either side of him, some of them closed, others hanging open, others missing entirely from their hinges. There was no graffiti yet, no candy wrappers, no smell of recent habitation at all. Just the smell of dust and decay. Russell was glad for that, he really didn’t want to deal with any more hooligans. 

	The ram turned a corner and found himself facing a flight of stairs. He took his camera from his eye and pulled out one of the glow sticks from his pocket. He snapped it and shook it, tossing it down to the bottom landing. He always left a trail for himself like this, to prevent losing his way in these larger buildings. It was also easier to climb a flight of stairs without holding a camera to his face. 

	Russell descended the stairs carefully, testing each with his weight slowly to make sure that they didn’t give way beneath him. He reached the next floor below him. He had gone up one flight of stairs to the top floor of the hospital and was now working his way back down to the basement. So far not a blip, not a hint of any ghost had registered on his equipment. The ram sighed in frustration as he walked down the next hallway, exploring the rooms. 

	There was little to be seen in them, just old rusty frames from beds that had long since had their mattresses rotted away by time. A few bits of various crumbling furniture, a little scattered debris here and there from a broken window or leaves blowing in through them. It was almost boring. Russell had already lost his fascination with ghosts after so many failed attempts at finding them. He was quite sure he was again wasting his time. 

	After another hour or so of searching, Russell threw down another glow stick and sat down against the wall to take a break. The large ram sighed, rubbing his temple as he looked around in the little bubble of white light that he had created in the pitch darkness. He knew anyone else would have been unnerved by being alone like this in such a spooky place, but Russell was unphased by it. He knew by now there was no one else in the hospital. He had heard no noises, seen no signs of life in it. 

	“Man, I passed on a date for this shit. I’m fuckin’ stupid.” Russell grunted, digging in his pocket for the baggie of carrots that he had brought for a snack while he worked that night. He crunched one of them, the sound of his chewing louder than it normally would be in the silence. “I could be getting my rocks off right about now, and instead I’m sitting in some run down hospital looking for ghosts. My dad was right, I am a moron.” 

	Almost placatingly, the ram’s large hand went to his crotch and he stroked the bulge in his pants. Beneath the fabric, his big balls ached irritatedly, making his stomach burn with their ire. He had been sorely tempted to blow this job off, he needed to get laid. It had been way too long since he’d had a chance to spend quality time with anyone outside of his own hand. “Maybe I can just ditch this and call Derek back. There’s nothing here. There’s never anything here.” He thought to himself. 

	He was just deciding to do that when suddenly the motion sensor device on his person beeped. Frowning, Russell stood up slowly and took it out of his pocket, looking at the screen. It had detected movement nearby. 

	“Probably just a stupid rat.” Russell grunted as he went to shove the device back into his pocket. It beeped out again as he did. The ram looked at it again, and the device indicated that the movement was from an entirely different place that it had been before. It wasn’t continuous, the movement seemed to be jumping yards at a time. A rat would be making a continuous blip. These markers were jumping around Russell’s position as though they were moving toward him from several different directions at once. 

	Russel grabbed for his camera and turned on his recorder. He held the motion sensor in his free hand, listening to the beeps come closer and closer to his position. He’d never experienced anything like what was happening now. 

	The ram shivered as he realized that he could see his breath now. The temperature gauge on his equipment was slowly getting colder. He couldn’t see anything in the viewfinder of his camera as he spun on the spot. He took it from his eye and looked at the blips on the motion sensor. There was a motion blip on it right in front of Russell’s current position. 

	The ram reached out slowly into the cold air in front of him where the motion blip seemed to be indicating. There was nothing there, he was staring right at the spot and it was devoid of anything except empty air. There was suddenly a sound that Russell didn’t expect. A zipper being pulled down. 

	Russell looked down in time to see his belt parting on its own. His zipper was down, and his fly flopped apart of its own accord. The ram’s boxers came into view as his prodigious bulge flopped loose from his pants. He grunted, trying to reach down for himself but there was nothing there, no one touching him, no one at all. He covered his bulge with his hand but even as he did he felt cool, tingling fingers curl around the heft of his flaccid cock and pull it from his fly. Russell was so shocked that he dropped his camera and it shattered on the floor of the hallway. 

	“FUCK!” Russell shouted as he watched the expensive piece of equipment hit the floor, and then he remembered that seemingly invisible fingers were caressing his dick. The ram looked back at his crotch, seeing the skin of his large uncut member sliding back and forth over his cockhead as though pulled by fingers that he could feel, but not see. His pent up balls rolled as the cool, tingly touch persisted on his penis. His heart thudded against his ribs as his cock started to grow hard. He was afraid, but he was also incredibly horny. He stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do with himself while a ghost apparently stroked his cock to hardness between his thick thighs. 

	Russell groaned out loudly as his erection was steadily pumped by the ghost hands. He couldn’t see anything still, could only feel the sensations stimulating his needy dick. He panted as he felt the touch curl around his massive balls and pull them from his boxers as well. His pants started to slide down his legs on their own and he felt a push on his chest that sent him back to sitting against the wall. 

	“Just relax...Let me take care of you....” A voice whispered in Russell’s ear, making him shiver. It didn’t sound like an evil voice, and he was so very needy and pent up. His rational mind told him that he was dealing with something supernatural, but the primal part of it overrode it in the face of the pleasure that was now leaking through his gut from his cock. 

	The sensations of being stroked by those cool attentive fingers had Russell’s head tilted back against the wall until his curled horns bumped against it. His thick, large cock was standing straight up from his pants like a spear, its broad head already starting to drool precum. It trickled down his length slowly, getting spread by the ram’s foreskin as it pumped back and forth across his tip. 

	The ram’s massive balls hung heavily out of his fly, and their oval heft was being caressed and tugged just as much as his twitching cock was. Russell’s musk grew thick in the cold air around him as his pleasure grew and his body warmed from it. He started to moan, gasping as the fingers teased every inch of his needy dick. 

	The pleasure in the ram’s loins began to steadily build toward his release, the ram’s hips thrusting upwards from the desire that coursed through his form. He struggled to hold himself back, as his rising pleasure grew. His cock was rock hard now, the thick bulbous head standing out like a battering ram. His balls were soaked with his leaking precum, and even in the coldness of the air he was starting to sweat. 

	As his orgasm neared, Russell opened his eyes to look down at his massive cock. He loved watching his thick cannon disgorge his cum and he had a habit of staring at it while he jerked off or fucked. He had spent many hours admiring his own big dick, narcissistically memorizing every inch of it from the wide head, down the thick veiny shaft all the way down to his bushy pubes. 

	So it was with a jolt of terror that he noticed that his cock was not quite as large as it normally was at this point in his arousal. It was every bit the same color, engorged and nearly purple with arousal, but it just wasn’t the same size. Perhaps it was the cold fingers that were masturbating him, maybe it was the cold air, he thought. He tried to shake the strange sensation off, but he noticed with a renewed shock of fear that the tip of his cock had seemed to withdraw a little as he watched it. 

	The wreckage of his camera was a short distance away, and with it as perspective, Russell had been able to see his cock shrink a little away from it. He blinked in surprise, grabbing his dick protectively in his own hand. He still teetered on the edge of orgasm but as he closed his hand around his cock he could feel as well as see it dwindling away at a snail’s pace. 

	What the pine marten had said about the cop freaking out about his cock being smaller than it had been came rushing back to Russell suddenly. The ram’s jaw dropped. 

	“No! No, no, don’t do that!” He cried out, trying to do anything he could to keep the spirit from whatever it was trying to do to him. He felt his balls lurch and he felt them brush the side of his pants as they too started to retract. 

	“Oh god! No, not my dick!” He shouted. He wanted to stand up, to try and run but his legs wouldn’t obey him. They felt like blocks of ice, numb and sensationless. He squeezed his dick as though trying to stop it from retracting, but it slid through his grip like a bar of wet soap. It was happening a tiny fraction at a time, but the ram’s big cock was slowly shrinking in his hand. 

	“Stop, please! Don’t do this, don’t take my dick!” Russell shouted, his voice echoing around inside the hospital as he watched his precious member slowly shrinking. He tugged at it, trying to get the cold fingers away from his shaft but even as his own hand tugged at his cock, it didn’t change the sensations of the fingers stimulating him. 

	Russell’s hips continued to jerk furiously, pumping up and down as his cock and balls slowly got smaller. His nuts had been the size of mangos when he started, and they were now closer to the size of avocados. His scrotum was shrinking with them, and he feared that they were going to disappear entirely. He pulled furiously on his dick, the need to ejaculate screaming at him inside his head even as he feared he was about to be emasculated by a ghost. 
	
	The ram’s once huge twelve inches were now closer to eight, and what had once been as thick as a beer bottle was now closer to that of a Redbull can. He was losing girth as well as length. 

	“Oh no, my dick, what have you done to my dick!!” Russell wailed, feeling for the first time his fingers brushing against his thumb as his dick got smaller and smaller between his legs. He tugged at it still, desperate to cum, even as his balls were reaching the size of kiwis now. His cock was so short he could hardly pump it like he was used to. It kept slipping out of his grip. He squirmed, gasping for breath. 
	
	“Please! Just let me cum! Just let me cum!!” He bleated desperately as he felt the horribly disconcerting feeling of his balls reaching the base of his cock. Against his knuckles, his balls were the size of walnuts now. He was tugging at his 4 inch cock with two fingers, trying to keep it from escaping his grip entirely. He stared down between his legs at what was once his massive cock and balls, his swinging tackle he had been so proud of. He had nothing now between his legs that would garner the respect of anyone. 

	Russell gasped, still on the edge of orgasm as he felt his balls disappear from existence between his legs. They were just gone, as though erased from reality or as though they had never existed at all. He still frantically jerked his nub of a cock with his pointer and index finger, trying to cum, but before he could reach his climax, he felt his cock vanish out of his grip. It was like feeling a bubble popping, his dick was there one moment, the next, his thumb and forefinger were rubbing together by themselves. 

	The cold sensation vanished as soon as the ram’s cock and balls were gone. Russell stared between his legs, his sexless crotch thrusting into the air. He was left with nothing but a patch of smooth white fur between his legs where his manhood had once been. He still felt the need to cum, but he had nothing to stimulate now. He rubbed his empty boxers against his groin but he could do nothing to achieve the release that he desired. 

	Shaking, Russell slowly stood up. He didn’t know what to do with himself now. He realized that his recorder was still on, that it had recorded the entire event from start to finish. He blushed, knowing his begging would be loud and clear on the tape. He staggered away, hopeless and trying to figure out what to do now. 

	As the ram exited the hospital and drove away into the night, a shadowy figure stood in one of the windows, watching him leave. A second figure approached slowly, standing beside the first. The first figure had the shape of a german shepherd, the cop that had run afoul of the ghost the first time. The second, had the likeness of Russell. They said nothing, but their transparent muzzles split in identical smiles. 

	With the life energy they had absorbed from their victims, they were one step closer to life once more. 

End.