by M A Roth
“So which one of you wants to go first and explain what happened last night?”
I looked at Zee with a pleading look in my eyes, so he told Father Peter about the girl being pregnant and the demon using the baby’s soul to attach itself to her.
“I stopped it before it took both of their lives, but I could only save the girl.”
“Lucy,” I whispered.
“What, Abigail?”
I looked at Father Peter. “Her name was Lucy.”
He nodded before turning back to Zee.
“Anything else you would like to add?” Both Zee and I shook our heads. “Because the father seems to believe that something strange happened.”
I laughed, I really couldn’t help it. “Why? Was his daughter being possessed not strange enough for him?”
“Abigail, he seemed to believe that light shone from Daniel’s hands and he lost his hearing for a few moments during that time.”
“Firstly, that’s madness and secondly, who’s really asking that question?” I knew it was Steven and not Father Peter asking the questions.
“Steven. You know how curious he is about you. And he thinks the light came from you.”
I felt so frustrated. When would this guy get off my back?
“The man was hallucinating. I will state that in my report.” Father Peter sat for a moment looking at me, really looking at me. I always felt so uncomfortable when he looked at me like that. It felt like he was staring into my soul. His face softened, taking a few wrinkles away from around his green eyes, but the ones on his forehead never left. I noticed he had cut his hair again; it was closer to his head and greying. Some of his original black hair still stood firmly in defiance amongst the grey.
“Fair enough. When will the report be ready? This is the one I was meant to fax the moment you came in.”
I stood up. “I’ll do it now.”
Father Peter gave me a soft smile. “Abigail?” I turned back to him as his eyes fell on my hands. “What happened?”
“The light bulb exploded. It was my hands or my face, so I choose my hands.” I smiled when he nodded his understanding. Then I left.
I left both of them to it as I found an empty office to complete my report. Well, it was more of a study room for the new guys. Lists of different demons covered the walls, along with examples of what harm they could cause and how to rid them from their hosts’ bodies. Demons were ranked in levels. There were only three different levels and only six kinds of demons that could cause harm. Level one could twist a mind and we knew them as tormentors. They mostly attacked while people were dreaming. Whisperers were another kind of level one demons. They did as their name suggested. Whispering into a person’s ear and always telling them to do wrong. When you hear a person say, “The demon told me to do it,” they weren’t lying, but no one could prove it, so they locked them up in the loony bin.
Level two were known as Leeches, they sucked the life source from a person over time, leaving the body feeling numb or lost. Another level two demons were known as disturbers. They normally take over a house, causing havoc and their mission is to terrify.
Level three ones scared me, but I tried to hide it when faced with them. One of them was called takers. These completely take over the host’s body normally killing them if people like us, the hunters, don’t intervene. But the sliest and the ones I hated more than anything else were the feeders. They festered and fed on a person’s misery, usually causing the host to commit suicide and take as many people as possible with them. Every demon wanted souls in hell that was the bottom line, no matter how many ways we looked at it.
I walked away from the walls, taking a chair in one of the three desks that sat in the room. I opened a new page and started my report. This was one part of the job that I really hated–paperwork. But The Reote ordered that every exorcism or possession of any kind was to be reported directly to Steven, who was in charge of all the teams in the UK. We were based in Brixton in London. I think there were about 2,000 hunters in the world, making us a small and elite group, but we all had our special gifts, ones that made most of us outcasts in our youth. Somehow, we found our way to the priests that ran the organization or they found us.
I filed my report, leaving out everything about Zee. Steven was already on my back and if he found out who Zee really was, we would have the whole Reote down on us.
Zee met me outside. Fresh air was what I needed after doing my report and being friendly with the rest of the team was something I couldn’t face. I wasn’t much of a people person. I loved them all, they were like my family, but sometimes it felt like too much.
“He’s come back for me, hasn’t he?” I asked in a whisper of fear and anger at the thought of him churned in my body.
Zee stopped and faced me. “They all sound the same. You just got a shock at hearing one speak that’s all.”
“Why are you lying? He called my name. You heard it in that room. That demon knew my name!” My voice cracked.
“Your house is protected and I will always be there for you.” His assurance did no good.
“No, Blake is now with me at all times and I don’t trust him. There’s something off about him.”
“Yeah, I agree. I don’t trust the guy either.” Zee actually looked concerned.
“Do you know something that I don’t?” I asked as his face became natural again. Yes, he was definitely hiding something.
“No, I just don’t trust him, that’s all.” He started to walk, and I followed, we walked for a while in silence, my own mind was reeling. The thought of the demon brought back old memories I thought I had buried far away. With it came the memory of Zee saving me and one question I have always wondered but never asked.
“Zee, do you ever regret saving me?” I looked up at him, into his sea blue eyes. How can no one notice he is too perfect? Too pure for this world. His features were chiseled to perfection, strong jawline, amazing blue eyes outlined with thick dark lashes. His black hair fell across his forehead and down to his jaw, snow white, straight teeth, and perfect lush lips. His skin was white and flawless. His build was strong and defined. Really, he was perfection. Not a blemish.
“Never,” he whispered, looking at me with so much intensity that I dropped my gaze.
The door of the warehouse slammed shut, our privacy gone as footsteps sounded down the steel steps. I looked up as Blake made his way to us, his hands stuffed in his grey jacket pockets. He nodded at Zee before turning to me.
“You ready?” he asked, and I could hear Zee growl behind me. I turned to him, giving him a look of confusion, I didn’t understand his hostility. I didn’t trust the guy, but growling at him was going a bit too far. Blake didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care.
“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later,” I promised Zee. His face relaxed, but his hand ran through his hair, pulling it back off his face, giving me the full view of just how breathtaking he was. But I knew that gesture. He was worried. I turned away and followed Blake to his car, not looking back at Zee, hoping my heart rate would slow down before it exploded.
Chapter Seven
Abigail
“So what assignment do we have today?” I asked as I hadn’t thought to look myself. Blake had both hands on the steering wheel; his concentration was totally on the road. He drove slowly, which was different from the way Zee drove, but it would take us forever to get anywhere with Blake’s careful driving.
“There’s a school only a few blocks away, some students swore they saw a young girl walking up and down a corridor and then she disappeared into the wall,” Blake said all this without taking his eyes off the road.
“Can’t wait,” I replied dryly.
“So your gift, it’s cool that you can see ghosts,” Blake said, and I could hear a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, really cool, seeing them as a child, knowing what’s under your bed… yeah, it was awesome.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean…” I cut Blake’s apology of
f. I was in bad form. It wasn’t his fault.
“So what’s your gift?” I asked to take the spotlight off myself.
“I have dreams, more like premonitions.” This time Blake threw me a sideward glance. I cocked an eyebrow.
“So you’re a fortune teller?” I said.
“No, it only happens in my dreams. I can’t tell you what will happen unless I dream about it,” he said with some anger in his voice. This must have been an argument he had more than once.
“Have you ever dreamed about people you knew, and how they would die?” I asked, genuinely curious now.
“Yes.” That was his answer. I dropped the subject as we pulled up at a snail’s pace towards the school. Once Blake stopped the car, I jumped out.
“I’m driving back, Miss Daisy,” I said, slamming the door.
Blake placed both hands on the roof of the car, looking over at me.
“It’s my car, and I am the only one who will drive it, got it?” At that, he moved away from the car.
“Touchy,” I said as I followed him into the school. It was closed for the midterm break and the janitor was waiting for us in the reception area.
“You are here about the sightings?” He sounded excited.
“Yes, I’m Abigail and this is Blake,” I said, taking the man’s hand. He shook it with a surprised look in his eye. “You're very young,” he said, no other explanation needed.
I smiled my friendliest smile. “No worries. I’m an expert. I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was born.”
He dropped my hand; like it was a bad omen, and I gave him a brighter smile before I asked him to show us where the sightings happened. We followed him down a corridor. The walls were painted a depressing brown. It was like they picked these colors to torment the kids. Doors ran the full length on both sides of the walls. In between gaps, tall, steel lockers were set tightly against the walls. He stopped about halfway down.
“Here is where everyone sees her,” he said and turned to watch what we would do.
I looked up and down the hallway, but no one was in sight.
“Thanks. We’ll give you a shout once we’re all done,” I said.
He gave me a scowl annoyed at being dismissed before leaving us and returning to his work.
I stayed still for a few moments, closing my eyes to see if the feeling I usually got when ghosts were around would come.
“Anything?” Blake asked, making me open my eyes.
“If you give me a moment to see if I can sense her without interrupting me that would be nice.” I rolled my eyes before closing them again, not waiting for a response and let my senses go. I felt her. The hairs rose on my arms and the feeling that someone was breathing on the back of my neck made my eyes shoot open. She was coming, and I told Blake.
“Well, I don’t see her,” he responded.
“That’s why I’m here. You’re my backup.” I gave him a smirk but turned as the lockers started to rattle and the young woman moved down the hall towards us. She was oblivious to our presence.
Her eyes roamed the halls in boredom and then landed on mine. Disbelief washed over her features as my eyes met hers. I didn’t speak first but waited for her to speak. It was a rule that Father Peter taught me; some spirits took it as an invitation to get you to do what they wanted and they wouldn’t give up.
“You can see me?” she asked and smiled.
“Yes, I can. I’m here to help you.” Her face scrunched up. “Help me with what?” she asked as she moved towards me. She was only thirteen and, from the clothes she wore, she has been here for a very long time. A long, white, cotton nightdress that was buttoned up to her neck hung to the ground. Her hair was brown and loose around her face. Her complexion was very pale, but spirits usually were.
“What’s your name?” I asked, but when she hesitated, I offered mine. “Mine is Abigail,” I said and smiled as best as I could.
“My name is Bridget. What’s his name?” she said, pointing at Blake.
“My name is Blake.”
I turned, shocked, and looked at Blake. “You said that your gift was your dreams!” My voice held suspicion.
“It is, but I can hear her. I can’t see her, though,” he replied with a hint of anger in his voice at being questioned. I really didn’t like this guy.
“Fine.” I turned back to Bridget. “I want to help you cross over, so you can be with your family.”
“You know my family?” she asked, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy.
I walked to her and stood only a foot away.
“You need to tell me why you never left. You stayed here for a reason” I could see the confusion in her eyes; she has been here that long that the reason may have been forgotten. It often happened when spirits lingered too long. Some never left at all.
The noise from further down the corridor grabbed all our attention. The janitor was mopping away. A tin bucket was being assaulted by his mop. When he sensed Blake and I watching him, he stopped and looked up.
“I have a job to finish,” he said before turning his back on us and continuing to mop.
I let out a sigh before turning back to Bridget. Her eyes were round and wide.
“I remember!” she said as her wounds became visible, her white, cotton nightgown became soaked with blood. The wound from her chest let the red liquid pour freely over her nightdress. It looked like she was murdered.
“He did this to me. I was only joking with him, but he got so mad and he…” Her hands went to her chest, and she looked down as they came away covered in blood. Her sobs filled the halls, and I stood, patiently waiting for her to stop.
“Whoever hurt you is long gone.”
“He was our janitor. He was a half-wit, and I knew he liked boys. I was only teasing him because he wouldn’t kiss me and he got so mad.” Her voice fell silent as she was dragged into whatever memory she was having, but I didn’t have all day. We had spent enough time here today, and I knew we had more jobs to do.
“Are you ready, Bridget?” I asked. She looked at me with longing in her eyes, but then something like fear shone in them just before she answered, “Yes, but don’t send me to hell.”
I gave Blake a look, and he averted his eyes before I turned back to Bridget. “You aren’t going to hell, Bridget. What made you think that?” I was curious now.
She started to blink in and out, but her last words came through. “Because that’s where you are from,” and then she was gone.
“What the hell was that?” I turned to Blake, but he was already walking away. “Ignorant asshole!” I muttered under my breath before following him.
We left while thanking the janitor and gave him a forwarding address to where they could send the cheque. He looked at the note then at us before shaking his head and walking to the reception desk. He obviously thought we were con artists. We had no way of proving that we weren’t, well, except if all the activity stopped.
I stayed silent in Blake’s car, in no mood to talk to him since he wouldn’t let me drive. We were heading back to the base just to check in before our next assignment. Going back made me think of Zee and the one word he had said earlier rang in my mind. The fact he said that he had never regretted saving me meant more to me than he would ever know. If I let myself get any closer, he would be the undoing of me and I was already starting to fray around the edges. I didn’t want to feel so happy about the way he looked at me; I could never act upon it or tell him how I felt. My head was getting sore. Why was everything so difficult? But I was doing him a favor and, honestly, myself too. I was saving him the enviable heartache, and I was afraid of opening up to him. I didn’t want anything up here to fight for. I didn’t want to lose any more people that I love. I had lost enough.
Blake turned on some music. It was more like background music, light and easy, so I didn’t complain.
“Are you okay?” Blake’s words pulled me out of my torture. I didn’t turn to him but continued to stare out the window.
&nb
sp; “Yes, fine.”
“I know you don’t know me, but you can trust me if you need to talk,” Blake said, almost, sounding sincere.
I snorted. “You’re right. I don’t know you. And I don’t trust people that I don’t know or people who lie to me, so no, I don’t want to talk.” I hadn’t forgotten his intrusion in my home.
“But I redeemed myself by sticking up for you with Father Peter.”
Now, I looked at Blake, a small smile growing on his face.
“Why were you at my apartment?” I stared at him, hoping he would get flustered.
“Honestly, I had heard a lot about you, so I was curious.” He didn’t even flinch or look away from the road, but I could hear an undertone of resentment. But why?
“Curious enough to break into someone’s home and stand over them while they slept? Blake, you need to get yourself a hobby!”
He looked at me going red. What was it about this guy? I swear, I knew him from somewhere. It wasn’t his face, but just how I felt around him. The hairs on the back of my neck always felt as if they were rising.
“What part of the world did you come from?” I asked. Considering his olive skin and brown eyes, I assumed somewhere warm.
“Originally, from Spain, but I have been based in America for the last two years.” He didn’t have a Spanish accent.
“Why were you transferred?” I asked since he wasn’t exactly handing out the information.
“I wanted a change of scenery,” he said and smiled.
I turned back in my seat, facing the road just in time to see a small child step out in front of us. I let out a scream for Blake to stop, but he didn’t, he just looked at me puzzled. We were going to hit the child, so I pulled the steering wheel out of Blake’s hands, driving us into a ditch. I braced myself as we hit the ditch at full impact, my body lifted from the seat, only to be slammed back down by the seat belt. My arms and legs were flailing like a rag doll and the impact of the seatbelt on my chest knocked the air right out of my lungs. The car flipped, landing on its roof. Glass shattered on top of us. The engine still roared as metal scratched across the earth. The car shifted for a moment and then stopped.
