The Banshee's Song Book 2 of the Scepter Series

Screams filled the evening air for the third time in a week. Colin O'Brien looked around as he had each night that the screams had sounded. As with each previous night, there was no visual sign of the woman that he could so clearly hear.
Colin, A small-boned man almost blended into the darkness of the unlit room, his dirty brown hair indistinguishable from the shadows. A week's growth of beard marred what could have been a handsome face, had it been clean. Watery red-rimmed gray eyes stared out at nothing.
He spent most of his nights in darkness these days. His nerves had been stretched to the breaking point. Once, a sober and neat man, he had been reduced to nothing more than a filthy drunk. His clothes were stiff with grime and filth. He no longer , noticed the body odor that filled the area around his seated form.
Raising his glass in solemn salute to the heavens, he mentally cursed his life. Drinking had become the only way to drown out those heart-rending screams. After so long sober, he'd fallen back into the bottle harder and deeper than ever before. Deep inside of him he could admit that it was a shame. All those Alcoholics Anonymous meetings had been in vain in the end. His strength had failed him at the first sign of upset.
Colin had come to the conclusion that he was haunted, a theory that he would have mocked prior to the screaming woman who had decided to take up residence in his house. He had considered seeing a professional. In the end, when it came to actually picking up the phone, his pride got in the way. Never mind that the screams had started before he'd picked up drinking again. They'd still say that he was hearing things. No one was going to tell him that he was just a crazy drunk.
It seemed that his visitor planned to make her stay a permanent one. He'd turned the house upside down looking for a tape recorder or anything to rationally explain why every night at midnight a woman began screaming and didn't stop until sunrise. There hadn't been anything, not one single thing to explain this. He couldn't figure out why the woman was haunting him. He couldn't even remember ever giving any woman a reason to. Well, before he’d started drinking again, since then though, anything was possible.