"Your mind is fiery red. It is a signal that you are in great danger. You have experienced something horrible tonight and are very afraid and confused," she said. She shut her eyes, rested her elbows on the table and opened her hands toward the ceiling. "I see a spirit... a powerful spirit that hates the very air you breathe." About a minute passed in pure silence. "He's trying to manipulate me." She opened her eyes. "I know you know this spirit, Mister. I have a dreadful feeling that something terrible is happening to you - something strange… something unnatural. You must trust me so that I can help you."
Trent sat quietly, unsure of what to say.
"Now, tell me… who is this entity?"
Trent's struggle to conceal the tragedy of his life had betrayed him. He knew he had to trust this stranger with a truth that only one like her would be apt to believe. "It's my father's enemy - an evil spirit that's out to destroy me," he admitted.
"Your father is no longer with us, is he?" Madam asked knowingly.
"No, he's not. He died a while back."
"You communicate with the dead?" She probed.
"I guess you can say they communicate with me," Trent returned. "We all have something in common."
Suddenly, Madam Sosu's facial expression changed. She started to breathe heavily, gasping for air as if she were having an asthma attack. She covered her ears with her hands as if desperately attempting to block out the voice of someone or something else.
"What's wrong? What's happening to you?!" Trent started to get up to see if there was any way he could help. The phone rang and immediately the woman caught air again and began to slowly relax. The answering machine clicked in after the fourth ring and a man with a husky voice left a brief message. The phone and answering machine were both seated on the floor in a corner of the room.
"What the hell happened just now!" Trent demanded.
"I… I'm not sure," Madam Sosu replied. "I heard a very loud, angry voice in my ears saying things that for the life of me, I couldn't understand. Seemed like some strange language, but the anger… oh, the anger! It was as if I, too, had become this spirit's enemy!"
Trent leaned forward. "Lady, I'm gonna be really straight with you. You may be able to read minds, but you have no idea of the extent of the danger you're facing here. I just came to you so that…"
"I would save you from your problems?" She interjected. "Is that it? I realize that this spirit may be dangerous, but I have experience behind me, Mister. I know this business."
Trent resorted to silence, refusing to argue with her.
"We have to force this loathsome spirit into our world just for a short while," she said.
"Force, do we? He doesn't need to be forced to enter our world; he can do it on his own accord; he's already proven that to me. You're not dealing with your ordinary apparition here," Trent said.
"Sit down or leave!" Madam shouted. "If you don't want to face him in my presence, leave this house and go back to your troubled life." Then in a calmer tone, she went on. "Spirits cannot physically harm you; all they can do is play with your mind and emotions. However, some are extremely evil and can easily possess a human being. Nonetheless, we have to face this evil force and find out what he really wants."
"But, Madam, I know what he wants," Trent explained. "And he comes when he wants to come - not when he's called. He wants me, that's all; nothing else! All I need is for you to tell me how to defeat him."
Madam looked intensely into Trent's eyes again. "You're hiding something from me, aren't you, Mister? By telling me what I cannot read is one way of my helping you to defeat him. You are alive, he is dead--remember that."
Shivering from the painful secrets he vowed never to reveal, he wavered, remembering Foster's warning: "They'll turn against you. They'll never forgive you for the crimes your ancestors committed." Trent had heard those words many times before. They had been indented into his mind. However, looking into Madam Sosu's eyes made the challenge of keeping the secret even more difficult. He lowered his head in shame, silently asking Foster's forgiveness, then looked up again. "There's something more, but you must promise never to mention what I'm about to tell you to anyone. Promise me!"
Madam immediately consented, and so he continued. "I'm not who I appear to be. I mean… I'm not completely human; I have a beastly nature like that of the heinous spirit that's haunting me. My species inhabited the woods of this state many years ago, but they've been around for more than a century prior to that. There was a clandestine operation one night. My species was eradicated by secret police and many humans were killed in the process as well." He spoke sluggishly, fighting to expel the truth.
"Before the raid, my father broke the law of his tribe by becoming sexually involved with my mother. She was fully human and I'm here today because of that union. My father's actions were completely forbidden by the tribe and Tarrow, as my father calls him, wants revenge for what he sees as a heinous betrayal to his species. Even as a spirit, he swears revenge - not to my father, because he has already passed on - but to me, the product of that betrayal."
Madam Sosu was gripped by what she heard. She had heard lots of stories, but none quite like this one. Nevertheless, she believed him. "We have to stop him then; stop him right in his tracks. The only way you will win this battle is to face the evil and challenge it," she said.
Those familiar words were stimulating to Trent.
She reached across the table and held his hand tightly. "He will come tonight." She told him to close his eyes, then did so herself. "Tarrow, spirit of the dead. Come forward."
Trent couldn't help thinking that Tarrow would never emerge-- not for this.
A few minutes passed and still nothing. Madam was able to persuade Trent, whom she felt had opened his eyes on several occasions, to be patient and allow the spirit sufficient time to advance. As he waited and listened, Trent soon felt a chilly breeze float around his ankles, then up to his knees. He opened his eyes, looked down and saw the trail of a blue mist seeping beneath the door into the room. He brushed his legs against the chair, attempting to divert it, but to no avail. It was almost as if ice had thawed on his legs and he started to shiver uncontrollably.
Madam continued calling, daring the heinous spirit to advance. Soon the candles were being snuffed out, one by one, and she quickly opened her eyes, then shut them again. By then, the house was in complete darkness, a strong wind emerged and papers were flying all over the room. Gripped with fear, Trent screeched his chair backwards to get up, but Madam immediately demanded that he sit. Trusting her, he obeyed.
Abruptly, the answering machine clicked in and the message of the husky-voiced man repeated itself again and again.
"Stop! Stop what you're doing!" Trent exclaimed.
But Madam refused to stop; she had to see the spirit. Then suddenly, everything ceased - the flying papers, the wind. However, darkness remained and for a few moments more there was nothing but deafening silence and Madam thought she had failed. She was about to get up when suddenly a bright fluorescent light entered the room and a voice sounded: "I am here."
Suddenly, The Evil One appeared, the fearless leader of the Mortica tribe. On seeing the phantom, Madam almost succumbed to heart failure and quickly struggled for composure.
"Unsettled…spirit," she stammered, "I have sensed your existence in this man. What is it that you yearn for? What do you want from him?"
"This is no affair of yours, wretched woman!" Tarrow roared.
"Oh, but yes it is…" Madam replied, gaining more confidence. "At this very moment, I sit as his representative. You must answer me!"
"I want his soul. His life is a condemnation of our laws. So, just as his mother suffered great pain as he was born, even worse shall he bear before he dies."
"I am not one of you!" Trent angrily interjected.
"Stay out of this, Mister, for your own sake," Madam warned him.
Staring at Trent with a hatred that penetrated his very being, Tarrow said: "I watch you
as you sleep, as you eat, but soon I will watch no longer and will claim your soul!"
Filled with fury, Trent sprung from his chair. "I'll defeat you, you bastard, and send you straight to hell where you belong... forever!" Madam looked on, wishing her client had controlled himself.
Just then, the image faded to black and a loud, demented laugh trailed behind it. The candles automatically re-kindled, one by one, and Madam Sosu stood and gripped Trent by the shoulders. "I sense that where you live now is cursed - too dangerous for you to stay. The ghost exercises a lot of his strength there."
"I can't leave my home. My strength is there, too," Trent replied.
"Listen to me. A battle will ensue, but it will be to your advantage if it does not happen on that property. Your strength does not lie on that land, it lies within you."
Before leaving that night, Trent paid Madam Sosu for her services and as he walked out of the door, she couldn't help but feel extremely afraid for him.
Six
____________________
THE MYSTERIOUS FACE
* 1 *
Since Trent's visit with Madam Sosu, he experienced nothing of the supernatural and his constant nightmares seemed to have ceased. At first, he wasn't sure if his encounter with Madam was worth the time or money, but as the days went on, he became convinced that his meeting with her was truly a positive thing. For the first time in years, he felt liberated of anxiety, despair and mostly... of fear.
His relationship with Tina also blossomed and it all seemed so perfect. In fact, a little too perfect.
After a movie night at Peter and Stacey's house, Trent held Tina at the waist while they both walked to the car.
Slumped in the passenger's seat, Tina said: "You can bet your last buck, you'll leave there a little intoxicated." She giggled.
"A little intoxicated?" Trent asked. "Right now you're too intoxicated to know what a little intoxicated means." Trent had settled for only a glass of white wine that night. He was not much of a drinker. Two glasses was all it took for Tina's head to get a bit dizzy.
"What do you think that girl's problem is at work?" Tina asked rather peeved.
"Who?"
"The broad downstairs… Janice"
"Jan?"
"Oh… is it Jan now? Since when have you gotten on such friendly terms with Janice?"
"Everyone calls her Jan, Tina… even me. What's the big deal about her tonight anyway?"
"Nothing. She just crossed my mind."
Trent thought that it was just the alcohol talking. He was totally oblivious to the fact that these two ladies despised each other because of him. Tina hated Janice because of her obvious advances toward Trent and Janice hated Tina because Tina was now in a relationship with him. The love affair was no secret: The whole office was talking. So, every day, the two ladies ran a fashion show to see who would out-dress the other and who would look more attractive to Trent.
"She likes you, Trent," Tina said.
"Who... Jan?"
"Yeah, Janice."
He glanced at her, smiling. "Jan is just a friendly girl, Tina. Even if you're right, so what? I'm with you and only you."
For Tina, those words were like church bells ringing on her wedding day and she felt much more at ease.
On arrival at the apartment complex, Trent lifted Tina out of the car to prevent her from staggering along the way.
"You got me?" She asked.
"I gotcha, my love. I wouldn't let you fall, even if my mom came back from the grave."
"What happened to your mother anyway? You never told me how she died."
"You never asked."
"But you never volunteered to tell me."
"All right, I'm telling you now. She died from a heart attack on her forty-sixth birthday," he lied.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Now would you stop the blabbering? It's weakening me."
He let her down at the door. "Get your key out. That's the only way you're gonna get inside, you know."
Searching through her purse, she came upon a fairly large hole at the bottom of the bag. "I've lost it!" She cried as if she had lost her precious soul. "I had no idea a hole was in this bag!"
"Don't you have a spare somewhere?" Trent asked.
"'Course I do, Sherlock. It's in the house."
Trent thought for a moment. "Does the landlord live nearby?"
"No. He lives all the way out west. He used to be just down the hall, but moved out after he built his dream house. The talk is he's into some sort of drug dealing, but, hey, it doesn't have to be true. The man does own three apartment complexes."
Trent rubbed his burning, sleepy eyes. "Guess you'll have to spend the night with me and I'll find you a locksmith in the morning."
"Great. I have no gripes." Tina smiled.
During the drive to Trent's house, Tina fell asleep. Trent didn't exactly relish the idea of having to lift her out of the car again and into the house, but when his tattered tires rolled over the rocky road which lead to the mansion, Tina instantly awoke. She rubbed her eyes and looked ahead.
"Are we almost there?"
"We're here, babes," he replied, switching off the engine. "I'll come and get you."
For a moment she was silent due to sheer amazement, then finally said, "Wow! Trent, but where are we?"
"Never mind that for now. Let's get you inside." He opened the door to help her out.
"No, that's okay, I think I can manage now," she said. The stumbling was gone; the shock had driven it away.
"It's really very cozy," Trent assured her, tickled at how quickly the alcohol had worn off. He walked in after her, watching as she took visual inventory.
"Trent, you're kidding me, right?" The look on her face was horrendous. "All that money you have and you've let this place fall apart like this?" She slumped on the couch in utter shock.
Trent rested his keys on the table and sat next to her.
"I grew up in this house. My grandfather and great grand-father used to live here. All it needs is a little renovating and it'll look just as good as Peter's, or better," he said.
Tina thought a moment, suddenly feeling like her remark had been very condescending. "Oh, never mind me. It's really very nice. Just needs some refurbishing like you said."
He showed her to his bedroom where they both would sleep that night. Tina took a quick shower and by the time she was finished, she found Trent sprawled across the bed in dreamland.
She eased onto the bed beside him, covered up, then threw a pillow over her face and dozed off to sleep.
As the night lingered on, a humming sound suddenly pervaded the room. Because Tina was a heavy sleeper, a thunderstorm could shatter the windows and she wouldn't hear a thing, but strangely, she heard the humming. In between sleep and wake, she thought she was dreaming. Then the pillow floated from her face and the cover slid down to her ankles. After feeling the cover move, she pulled it up again; however only making it halfway up near the navel. She kept pulling while trembling from the night-draft seeping through the open window, but it seemed as if someone or something was restraining it.
During the tug of war, her mind sailed entirely into a state of consciousness and she woke up. Immediately, the humming stopped. Wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, she pulled the cover all the way up again, then grabbed the pillow which was thrown between the wall and the bed, and rested it on her face again.
Meanwhile, Trent had dampened his pillow with a few drops of dribble. He had no nightmares that night, but after Tina had drifted off to sleep again, he heard the same humming sound. Instantly, he was wide awake and the humming abruptly stopped. From past experience, he knew it wasn't his imagination. The Evil One was there.
Trent got up and walked to the bathroom. After washing his face, he decided to stay awake until morning so that he could watch over Tina.
Bright and early the following morning, Trent made breakfast. He placed it in the oven to keep it warm, then took a quick shower
and dressed for work. Afterwards, he sat at the edge of his bed, kissed Tina on the forehead and whispered in her ear: "I love you". On turning, Tina woke up and started rubbing her eyes.
"Hello Gorgeous," Trent smiled.
"Hi. What time is it?" Tina asked.
Trent checked his watch. "A minute past seven."
"Already?"
"So how did you sleep?"
"Fine, I guess." Then suddenly, struck with embarrassment by her morning appearance, Tina jumped out of bed and quickly headed for the shower.
"When you're done, join me downstairs. Will you?" Trent called after her.
A short while later, Tina emerged in the dining room wearing one of Trent's extra-large t-shirts.
"You don't look so well," he said to her after dishing up the food. "Take the day off to recuperate. Marge will fill in for the day."
Marge Conan was Peter's secretary before she was transferred to the Accounts Department.
"Na, I couldn't," Tina replied, chewing on a sausage. "I'm fine, really."
Trent didn't believe her - not for one second. "I insist that you stay here and rest. I promise I won't cut you for the day." He smiled.
"You're always so quick to offer me the day off. Why do you do that? You know I don't like taking time off work."
Trent went over and held her by the shoulders. "Tina, I'm only looking out for you. You and I both know you could use the rest. Take your mind off work for now and look after yourself."
Tina finally agreed.
"I'll call a locksmith as soon as I get to the office and should have another key for you by this evening."
After breakfast, Tina walked Trent to the door and kissed him goodbye. She popped a few pain-killers from the medicine cabinet and decided to relax for a while until she felt better. Her head had been throbbing ever since she woke up.
About an hour later, she got up and looked around the master bedroom. Clothes were strewn all over the place. Trent really isn't very tidy, she thought.
Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series Page 9
