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Ghostbusters Answer The Call English Full Movie In English //TOP\\ Free Download

Pluto TV is a free streaming service where you can watch live television, such as the Pluto TV Horror channel, but it also has a library of on-demand shows and movies. You can watch by downloading the app on your smart TV, through a streaming device such as a Roku or Fire stick, or even on your laptop or phone.

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 i


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