by C. J. Ayers
When she finished moving around the kitchen, she sat down across from Caleb and took his hands in hers. For Caleb, it felt almost as if an electrical jolt shot through his body the moment they touched. Instinctively, he wanted to reach across the table and ravish her. He wondered if she could tell. If she knew that he was attracted to her, she’d never given him any hints or encouragement.
Quietly, Lillian started to chant. First she invoked her ancestors’ protection, and then she called on Finn’s grandfather to speak to her again. This time, a disembodied voice grumbled overhead.
“Took you guys a while to figure out who Cain was. Finn almost got killed,” the voice complained.
“I’m really sorry about that sir, Lillian responded. Do you know anything about the demon that is stalking Finn?” Lillian pressed.
“Lady, I died of a heart attack in a nursing home after working in a car parts factory for over twenty years. When I died, I expected that I’d be going to heaven—I don’t even know what this place is called, let alone how to describe to you the thing that has attached itself to my grandson, but I’ll help you in any way I can.”
“What does it look like from your dimension?” Lillian asked.
“It’s very bright. It seems to absorb light, and then changes into a darkness that is darker than even the darkest night. When it gets close to Finn it looks almost like water—it changes from a human-like shape into something that resembles black water.” Finn’s grandfather explained.
“Did you know anything about your neighbor in the nursing home that also died, Tom? Is Tom there with you?” Lillian asked.
“No,” the grandfather responded matter-of-factly. “Tom isn’t here. There is a guy named Chachi though. I think he used to be a mob boss or something. The guy has some serious issues.” Lillian quickly thanked Finn’s grandfather and said a few words to close the invisible portal. She blew out the candles in front of her.
Caleb swallowed. “I’m going to guess that the demon which has attached itself to Finn took on the physical likeness of Tom for a while in order to trick the boy into trusting it. Since his grandfather said that the demon is very bright and looks like light, I’d say we’re dealing with one of Satan’s fallen—so he must be a pretty bad guy.” Lillian nodded in agreement, and then burst suddenly into tears. Caleb was shocked. He had never seen Lillian cry and didn’t know quite how to react.
“I’m sorry,” Lillian spoke—wiping the tears away from her cheeks and struggling to regain her composure. “I just feel bad for Magda. I judged her so harshly for the way she looked, and no one even said anything after she died—not even a kind word. I keep picturing Finn snapping her neck, and then my mind goes back to the way she just slumped down onto the floor dead… and it’s just so horrible.” Lillian struggled to push her tears back again, but somehow emotion overtook her. Caleb didn’t know what to do and so he tenderly reached his hand out across the table and placed it firmly on top of hers.
Oddly enough, the small gesture seemed to calm her. Then, Caleb looked down and realized that one of the candles was still lit—which meant the portal was still open. All of a sudden, the table flipped over and broke in two. Lillian was pushed backwards in her chair. And an invisible force seemed to charge the room. The knives on Lillian’s counter jumped up into the air, their sharp points glimmering in the dark room.
“You stay the hell away from my brother!” A new voice exclaimed as a knife shot across the room and embedded itself in a wall only inches away from Caleb’s head.
A second knife raised itself up into the air and Caleb lunged onto it and wrestled it down to the ground. As he did so, another knife rose up and stabbed him in the back. Lillian was screaming at the top of her lungs as an invisible force seemed to repeatedly slap her across the face. Caleb knew he had to get to Lillian, and so with the knife still sticking out of his back, he fought his way over to her side of the room, shielding her body with his own. Knives and forks continued to levitate up into the air, and each one of them flew across the room and embedded themselves into Caleb’s body. Yet, he would not be deterred. He used his body to shield Lillian until they could make their way out of the house.
Finally, the pair found themselves locked safely in Caleb’s car—both struggling to catch their breath. The situation was out of hand and Caleb was bleeding from the many puncture wounds in his body.
Caleb’s body was covered in blood. There were at least twelve forks sticking out of his arms and legs and at least two or three knives. Lillian began to work at pulling them out, as Caleb winced.
“That voice had an accent I knew all too well. That new ghost is some kind of mobster,” Lillian stated plainly. “We need to go down to 5th street and find out some more about the guy that called himself Chachi.”
When they arrived on 5th street, Caleb’s shifter healing had already sealed up the smaller, shallower wounds but he was a bloody mess. Lillian directed them to a small Italian restaurant on the corner, and she walked in with Caleb limping closely behind her. A few men looked up from behind the counter, and glanced at Caleb’s bloody face suspiciously.
“Who the hell are you?” One of the men asked.
“I was sent here to ask about Chachi,” Lillian answered—not skipping a beat. The second man with black hair slowly pulled a handgun out from beneath the counter and pointed it directly at her head. “You better explain yourself real fast,” he said.
part 2
CHACHI’S GHOST
The man behind the counter cocked the metal gun, which was pointed at Lillian’s head. She could hear Caleb take in a deep breath. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to reach for Caleb’s hand—to reassure herself that he was standing there beside her. Instead, she stood as still as a statue—afraid to move or even breathe too loudly. Her Department training included reading people from their expressions and body language. She could tell by this man’s facial expressions that he wasn’t the type to hesitate. If he felt threatened, he would kill her without faltering. Lillian squinted for a moment, preparing to die. She waited for the sound of the gun’s blast, yet it did not come.
“What do you want to know about Chachi?” The other guy behind the counter asked. Lillian looked over to Caleb for help, and then opted for honesty, “I want to know why he’s haunting me.” At this, both men burst into laughter, and the gun pointed at her face was lowered. Caleb sighed. For a moment he was sure that they were both dead. The laughter put both of them at ease for a moment. Caleb eyed Lillian admiring her steely personality. She was incredibly strong.
The man on the right went back to his business of assembling sandwiches, slapping cheese onto the bread as if he was playing cards. The man who had raised the gun to her head apologized. “It ain’t my thing to pull a gun on a broad, but this Chachi shit has me a little bit on edge.” The man shrugged and then leaned on the counter. It was a meager apology, but she appreciated that he had at least made an effort. “You wanna know about Chachi, you need to go and talk to Big Mike.”
Caleb cleared his throat, “Where can we find Big Mike?”
The guy on the right smoothed down his dark black hair and swallowed hard— “Make a right at Salernos Pizzeria, and then keep going down to the Pussycat night club. He’s always hanging out there at the bar—but don’t tell him I sent ya. You might get a little more than you bargained for, messing around with this Chachi foolishness.” The man snorted. “If I was you lady, I’d leave it alone and I’d walk away—go have a few kids, settle down. What you want to go chasing ghosts for?” Lillian nodded her head in appreciation, but ignored his question.
As the two exited the little shop, Caleb’s hand brushed against Lillian’s. Just the feel of his hand sent chills zipping up and down her body. For a moment, she wondered what it might feel like if he were to grab her fingers, and take her palm in his own muscular fist. Then, she pushed the fantasy out of her mind. Caleb was too principled and focused for romance—especially romance with her. Anyway, it seemed that
his life revolved entirely around Department 99, as did hers. There was no time for romance. Being a part of Department 99, was like being in the military—except the fact that virtually none of the members had families or took any sort of leave.
When they arrived at the Pussycat nightclub, it was not at all what they had expected. Lillian had never seen anything like it. It was filled with all sorts of shady characters. Not the usual kind of shifty characters that hung out in back alleys, but high-level mobsters who seemed to have a keen interest in the occult.
There were pentagrams spray-painted on each table, candles were lit, and a few of the mobsters seemed to be chanting. Far off to the right, Lillian could see a woman reading tarot cards for a pair of men with slicked down black hair.
Lillian tugged at Caleb’s sleeve gesturing him to bend his 6’4” frame down level with her 5’2” self. “Where should we even start?” Lillian whispered to Caleb, feeling overwhelmed. The way she whispered into his ear, sent chills down his spine. She had been so close to his face that he could actually feel her hot breath coming in short bursts as she spoke. The air from Lillian’s speech tickled his face, and his eyes were riveted to her full and pouty pink lips. Yet, outwardly, Caleb remained like a stone. He stood full height and scanned the room, taking note of all the strange looking mobster types engaged in all sorts of rituals. It was a strange looking place. In the center of the club a few scantily clad women danced with each other around a pole. They looked strung out and sad—in fact, they looked like prisoners.
Caleb cocked his head back for a moment and sniffed the air. Although he rarely liked discussing the fact that he was a bear shifter, the heightened senses, which came along with being a shifter, came in handy sometimes. In a flash, Caleb’s nose was flooded with all kinds of alien and strange smells. Yet, through the symphony of scents, he was able to distinguish something that was a bit off--- something that shouldn’t have been there. Caleb smelled a corpse.
The rotten dead smell was emanating from a blond man who sat over at a corner table completing a ritual alone. The scent was all over the blonde man’s hands and clothes. A regular human nose wouldn’t have been able to pick up on it, but for Caleb the smell was unmistakable. Caleb’s gut told him that this man would probably know something about Chachi. He could smell rage and someone else’s fear all over the man who seemed to have recently committed a murder.
Caleb gently pushed Lillian behind him and signaled to her to follow. Together they cautiously approached the table where the blonde man sat casting his spells. There were a few small, scattered bones on the table, a slab of butter, and a few pennies. In the middle there was a photo of an elderly-looking man that Caleb didn’t recognize. Caleb couldn’t tell if the blonde man was trying to help the man in the photo, or to bring him harm, but from the smell of the blonde stranger—he was probably up to no good. He didn’t look like the type that had good intentions, or any empathy at all. He seemed cold-blooded and sociopathic.
When they arrived at the table, they did not interrupt but simply stood silently by the table’s edge. The man’s hands moved in circles over a candle, while he whispered in something that sounded like Latin. He then pulled out a small pouch of sand and doused the candle with it. The flame immediately sparkled green and then went out.
“What do you want?” The man said without looking up.
“We were hoping you could help us with a few things,” Caleb stated—purposefully remaining vague.
“If you want someone killed, I suggest you buy a gun. It isn’t good to cast a spell for that,” the man stated softly. Lillian was a bit taken back by his cavalier attitude towards murder. She looked down and noticed a few drops of red blood on the man’s tennis shoe. She wanted to reach out for Caleb in that moment, but knew she would look girlish and immature, grabbing for his hand, so instead she shifted her body a little bit so that their shoulders were touching. Caleb did not move away from her touch.
Caleb pulled a chair out from a nearby table, pushed it up close to the man, and sat down. Lillian felt a little offended that he hadn’t gotten her a seat, but perhaps he had a good reason. “I’m not going to bullshit you,” Caleb said gruffly to the man. “I don’t give a shit about murder or whatever else you’ve done, but I’ve got a little problem that I need to take care of. I need you to tell me about Chachi.” When Caleb said the name Chachi, the man’s eyes grew wide. He jumped backwards, knocking over his unlit candle—his face twisted into a mixture of both anger and genuine terror. Then, he shouted something in a foreign language that neither Caleb nor Lillian recognized.
All the heads in the room turned in Caleb and Lillian’s direction. “These two just asked me to cast a forbidden spell, “the blonde man announced to the room- lying through his teeth. “They threatened me and said that if I didn’t comply they would call the Gollum.” Instantly, individuals all around them clattered to their feet and closed in around Lillian and Caleb.
“What the hell is a Gollum?” Lillian whispered to Caleb. Again he felt the warm rush of her breath against his cheek.
“I don’t know, but guessing by their reaction, it’s not good.” Lillian stood close to Caleb, pressed against him as the dark shadowy figures in the room drew nearer. She couldn’t make out exactly how many people were in the room, but she was sure that they were vastly outnumbered.
“Wait…wait..wait..” Lillian placed her hands out defensively as the circle of individuals closed in on them, becoming smaller and smaller. “We’re not here to do anyone any harm, we just have a few questions, really… I grew up in a small town and I was just always curious. I was hoping you guys could tell me what exactly a ghost is?”
Someone in the crowd burst out into mean laughter. “Good try, lady,” someone snorted in a mean voice, yet Lillian continued to talk. Caleb knew exactly what Lillian was doing. She was trying to buy them some time.
“Smoke em!” An angry voice called out, trying to incite the crowd. A man jumped forward and grabbed Lillian around the wrist. Lillian shrieked and tried to pull away, but the man’s grip was like steel.
Before Caleb even knew what was happening, his bear took over. Lillian needed his protection and he was ready to defend her at all costs. Caleb lunged forward and grabbed the man that had Lillian’s arm. He held the man up by the neck, and his legs dangled and kicked around in the air, searching for an invisible foothold. A few members of the crowd drew back. Then Caleb-- fired up as a bull (or a bear)-threw the man across the room where he hit a faraway wall, and slid to the floor with a loud violent thump.
“Would anyone else like some?” Caleb asked the crowd. Much to Lillian’s surprise, a handful of the men didn’t seem the least bit deterred. In fact, they almost seemed to enjoy the excitement of it all, and eagerly wanted a piece of the action.
A tall man stepped forward, donning some kind of club in his hand. The club reminded Lillian of the old nightsticks that police officers used to patrol with. The man slapped the club against his other bare hand and smiled stupidly. Then, without warning he lunged toward Caleb—attempting to bring the club down on his head. Caleb caught the club in mid-air and twisted the man’s arm back hard, until Lillian heard a loud cracking sound. She then grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and smashed it over the man’s head for good measure. By the end of it, the tall man lay on the floor bawling like a baby, with one broken arm and a cracked skull.
Now, two men dressed in leather stepped forward. Lillian’s psychic abilities clearly told her that both were possessed by a demon. Lillian looked at Caleb and shook her head no—as if trying to communicate that fighting with them would be a bad idea. Caleb ignored her warning and sprang into action. He kicked the first man square in the stomach, and with a crackling and popping sound, in seconds he transformed into his bear while still in mid-air. There were a few loud gasps from the crowd. Through her job with the Department, Lillian had been around plenty of shifters, but even she was impressed by the speed grace of his transformation—shifti
ng in mid-air was magnificent. Caleb hit the ground with a large heavy thump— a beautiful bear, yet a particularly vicious predator. Caleb raised his gigantic claws into the air and roared. His roar was so fierce that it shook the rafters of the building and sent shivers down Lillian’s spine. Then, he bore his razor sharp teeth. Drool dripped from the corner of Caleb’s mouth and a growl emanated from his chest. He was scanning the room, ready to kill. Another roar, and the sound moved through Lillian’s body fiercely. In a strange way she found herself somewhat turned on by this display of his strength—yet this was not the time to marvel at her impressive comrade. They were in serious trouble.
For a split second, Caleb caught Lillian’s glance. “Follow behind me,” his bear-eyes seemed to convey. Before Lillian knew what was happening Caleb was swiping at people in the crowd, ripping at limbs, and baring his teeth to anyone who approached. Lillian kept close behind him, squinting and shielding her eyes from some of the carnage and blood splatter. After a few minutes, most of the people lay on the floor groaning and clutching at themselves, while Caleb and Lillian ran for the door.
Instead of opening the door like a human, Caleb simply lunged through the glass, shattering it in one swift movement. Again, he shifted mid-air, back into his human form as they ran towards their car in the parking lot. Even amid all of the chaos, Lillian couldn’t help but smile as she saw Caleb’s bare butt running in front of her. His back was sleek and muscular, and his muscles rippled as he moved. When they reached the car, both of them flung the doors wide open and jumped inside.
