CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next morning, was bright and cheery. Small birds were tweeting in the garden, taking turns at the bird feeder. I was glad to see the guys still using it, helping our feathered friends in the harshness that we call winter. Steve and Michael both came downstairs; Steve went to make the coffee, Michael coming into the living room to see me.
“Morning Sharon!”
I stood up from the sofa. “Morning”, I replied.
“So what do you have planned for today?” Michael asked, curious.
Looking at the laptop I spoke, “I want to see if there are any updates from the people I have helped so far. I also want to find out what’s happened to our neighbours here, but also, I need, no, must find out some answers about myself; about what I am doing.” Michael put up his hand for me to stop.
“What do you mean find answers about you? I thought you knew what you are, what you are here for?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I know I am something called a Daemon, but I’m sure I am missing something. The things I am doing, I, I would never have thought of doing such things alive. Why do I feel the need to go to extremes on these people? And then when I do, it feels so, so….. I’m sorry, I can’t explain it. But it scares me a little.”
Michael nodded. “Ok, though I don’t completely understand. Do you want us to help you?” He gestured to Steve as he walked in with the coffees.
I thought for a moment. “I am not sure what you could do. Maybe research our neighbour for me whilst I go check out the others I have helped over the last few days?” I sighed. “First though, there is someone I need to speak with. I will be back soon.”
“Alright Sharon.” Michael waved me off as I headed outside.
As I floated on the wind towards the hospital, questions formed in my head. I knew what I wanted to ask, but would he be able to answer them? Would I even like the answers? Do I really want to know? Yes, I need to know what I am doing. Not to the others, but to me.
The hospital came in to view and I made my way to the entrance. The doors shuddered as I approached them, and I walked through. It was oddly chilling to be here, knowing that people here could die here and get themselves stuck, just like Mary. I glanced around, and found the old ghost I had spoken to before. His old eyes rested on me, and so slowly floated his way over, through the living, past the dead.
“Why have you returned?” he demanded.
I was a little shocked by his tone, but then I knew I shouldn’t be here. “I had to ask you something. I didn’t know who else might be able to answer it.”
“Speak then. Do not dally in these premises.”
I nodded quickly. “Erm. Are there consequences for me using my powers on the living?” I asked uncertainly.
The ghost appeared thoughtful, old wrinkled brow bunching up. “Yes.” He finally said.
“Do you know what they are?” Now I was worried.
“Yes.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you elaborate?”
“That depends on what you have been doing.” He shrugged. “I am no expert on Daemon power, but I have been privy to snippets of information.”
“Well I’m not sure I should say exactly what I have been doing with you. But I could explain how it feels. How it feels like it’s changing me somehow.”
The old ghost nodded as if he understood. He motioned me to continue.
“Whenever I use a power, I feel a little drained. The more I use it, not only do I feel more drained, but also I feel more, determined to put things right, no matter the cost. The more I do this, the more I enjoy what I do, even if it’s extreme. I would never have even thought of doing the things I have done when I lived.” I clutched my hands together nervously, awaiting his response.
“Hmmm. Well, as far as I know, Daemons have a limited power to use daily. It is like a life force I suppose, though you do not ‘live’ technically. If it is completely drained, you disappear, sometimes temporary, but for others, permanently. As for the feeling of the power itself, it is dangerous. It will feed off your morality, your inner self, and it can twist it. Be careful with it, or you may just lose yourself.”
My mouth opened to say something but the ghost interrupted me. “An out of control Daemon, would be extremely dangerous in this world. There are higher powers out there that watch us, and will react if required. But be warned, those who come face to face with those higher powers have much to answer for, and are never seen or heard from again.”
I asked him if he knew what happened to those who were taken by the higher powers.
“No one knows for certain.” I hugged myself, terrified that I may be under their watchful eyes. If they have eyes. Well they must if they ‘watch’ surely? I shivered inside.
“One more thing”, the ghost spoke, “the higher powers watch us, but if they deem our actions to be of benefit to the world they usually will let us continue.” His eyes glinted in the fluorescent light. “Now if that is all, you must go. Heed the warnings.” And at that, he spun around and headed back to his ghostly sentry point.
Mulling this new information over, I headed out the door and hopped back on the air currents back home. I must tell Michael about this. I think I am going to need help. Do I trust him though? Will he keep me on track, and not urge me on to… to… kill. My thoughts suddenly went to Panda’s neighbours. The ones I had set the carbon monoxide on. Maybe it’s too late.
Hopping off outside the front door, I stepped inside to be greeted by the TV, and Steve and Michael browsing on the laptop.
“Hey Sharon!” Michael looked up. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Nodding I spoke to him. “Yes. Unfortunately, I may be in more trouble than I thought. I must find out about one of the neighbours from hell I, er, ‘sorted out’.”
Michael looked worried. “Why? What’s happened?” His tone of voice, made Steve look up, a questioning look across his face.
Sitting on the spare sofa, I explained to Michael what the ghost had told me not long ago. The more I told him, the wider his eyes became. “And you feel you may have done something that might provoke these higher beings?”
I nodded sullenly.
“But what have you done? It’s not like you gone and killed anyone right? Just scared.”
I stared at him. “Shit Sharon! What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t think what I might be doing was wrong until after I had done it! But it felt so right, it’s like I had lost all sense of right and wrong. Even now, after doing it, I still feel it’s right, but there’s an annoying niggle in the back of my head that’s trying to tell me something. It’s not like I killed them outright anyway!” I felt like I was protesting, protecting my reasoning.
Michael shook his head then looked up at the ceiling. “It’s true, you didn’t kill them straight off”, he mentioned. “But what if they do die from the gas? What then?” I shook my head.
“I honestly don’t know. Maybe they aren’t dead and that’s why I’m still here, and the higher powers haven’t punished me for it.”
“Well, we can find out quick enough, and so can you.” I knew what he meant for me, as I could easily travel back to check out my handiwork.
“So, what will you do then?” I asked.
Michael gestured at the laptop. “The internet is such a wonderful source of news, I’m sure something would be on it if it was that bad, or shocking a story.” He started tapping the keys quickly, searching for any recent news of carbon monoxide deaths. Old reports appeared for the country, but most were for abroad.
“Ok. I think I should still go check myself though.” Michael nodded, and quickly, I poured myself back into the computer and found the broadband line to Panda’s flat.
Exiting the line at the other end I was greeted by silence. I found the cat sleeping soundly on the sofa next to Panda who was reading her book with one hand, the other casually stroking her cats’ back, with intermittent breaks to turn the page. Leaving her flat, I che
cked out the immediate neighbour next door first, finding the door now shut, and entered to find the flat empty of life. Furniture and clothes and children’s toys still occupied the space, but no living bodies were here. Check. I thought, and headed downstairs to the second lot of bad neighbours. Here goes.
The inside of their flat appeared just as it did when I last visited. I checked out the pilot light, and found it was still a yellowy-orange colour. So it’s been dissipating the poison gas for more than a day. I grew worried, and headed for the bedroom.
I was met by two bodies, entwined around the duvet as they had slept. I leaned in closer to see if they were breathing. Their bodies were still, their skin pale. Oh shit. I backed off, conflicting thoughts raced through my head, as one tried to come to terms with what I had done, the other side trying to convince myself that it was the right thing to do, that they would never change their ways, and Panda deserved the peace and quiet she was well overdue for.
Gritting my ghostly teeth, the fight my mind was having won in favour of me doing the right thing. I felt a little of myself slip away. Or was that just me overreacting? Making my fears real just by thinking it. NO Sharon! You did the right thing and you know it. This is what you are here for. Now to do another deed and make sure someone finds them.
I turned to leave the flat, and headed for their front door. Taking it off the latch and chain, I opened the door and left it slightly ajar. Someone will notice it soon, and head inside to check.
Back upstairs, Panda was chatting to her cat, commenting on the peace and quiet and how unusual it was, but how much she was going to take advantage of it. I smiled then, finally registering that what I had done, was right after all. To see this reaction made it right. Those people were a waste of space and good air, I reminded myself. We don’t need them in this society. And if our governments and local authorities will do nothing about it, then I will!
Feeling pumped from my motivational speech to myself, I left Panda and her cat to a peaceful day, and headed back on the broadband line. Next stop, home.
Not long after I left a dark figure appeared in the flat below, checking out my work. It grinned slyly, the black holes of its eyes, twinkled with stars. “Soon, you will be mine, Ms Hartman. Kill for me, and soon I will be free of this prison!” It laughed darkly, a hollow echo resounding after it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
At the other end, Michael and Steve were browsing the web for strange disturbances in the local news. Thousands of hits popped up, but they could see nothing relating to my antics. I told them to wait for a while, as I was sure the couple I gassed would appear somewhere on the news today, and would be related to carbon monoxide poisoning; those types of deaths had been on the news a lot lately.
“In the meantime, can I use the laptop for a while?” I asked. “I would like to read up on the forum, see what people have noticed if anything, from my interventions.”
Michael nodded and explained to Steve that I needed to use the laptop for a while. “Sure. Just don’t break it, k?
I couldn’t break it; it just fluctuated in my presence. I started to tap into the search engine and brought up the forum site. Scrolling through, I searched for Torments’ posts first. He had a few new ones, but the most interesting one read:
“7:45pm. All is quiet still. The noise stopped abruptly earlier today as I mentioned in my earlier post. It is still quiet. I have gone out to scout who may be the culprit of the noise, and when at the site, there was no machinery working. Seems I now have the proof of who is the noise maker, and now I can go ahead with legal proceedings. I asked one of the employees on site why everything was shut down, and they mentioned something like an EMP had knocked out the systems, and that it would take hours to get restarted again. Anyway, this has given me the leverage I need, the proof. Whatever caused the EMP thank you!”
The last post then read:
“4:23am. Horrendous thudding, vibration returned again. I guess the system has been fired up for them to continue their work. I will go out now with my video/audio recorder and take it to the site as proof it is them causing this hell. I cannot cope with this anymore. I have bad health, my heartbeat is irregular, I’m sure it must be doing more to me. It is torture. Time for the big guns now.”
I felt sorry for Torment. Although I had managed to help him, he still had to endure the noise right now again. Hopefully though, it will soon be over, somehow.
I scrolled on to the next poster. It was Panda.
Her latest posts were as follows:
“6:30am. Just got back home after staying over my friend’s house. Couldn’t cope with the banging any longer from downstairs. Had to get some peace and quiet even only for a few hours. Back now and all is quiet. No noise from either neighbour. Bliss! Let’s see how long it may last.”
“Lunch time. Still very quiet here, which is very odd. Normally one neighbour will always be here when the other isn’t. Maybe they have both seen sense to stop the racket? Probably not. Maybe they just out on holiday. One can only hope.”
I nodded to myself. “Good, good. Let me check on the other lady I helped as well.” I scrolled down to the poster named Megs, and started to read her latest posts.
“Strange things are afoot with my neighbours. They were being loud and noisy again, and I heard the kids being put to bed. I decided that maybe now would be a good time to try to sleep myself, but as soon as I tried, all I could hear was cries from the kids next door. They sound scared. This happened a few times, then I heard the lady scream. After that, silence. Very strange.”
“01:10am. Banging next door, and screaming. I banged on the wall after a few minutes and told them to be quiet. Sounds like they are all in the room next door. But get this! The woman actually apologised to me! I thought I might faint. Good job I’m already sitting down in the bed!”
It seemed so far that everything was going well with the outcome of my harsh words and actions against the neighbours from hell. All that was left to check out were our own neighbours. We hadn’t seen or heard from them since they were arrested the other night. I decided it was time for a trip to the police station once more.
“Be back soon, I want to check on our own neighbours.”
“Ok, Sharon.” Michael replied. “How are things with your forum friends?”
“Seems everything I have done so far has helped them all immensely. Keep an eye out for any news reports relating to the carbon monoxide deaths, won’t you?”
“Sure thing.”
I headed out the door and took my ride to the station. Once there, I went straight to the cell at the rear of the building, only to find them empty. Now where have they gone? I thought.
A moments thought later, I decided to check the hospital. But I can’t go floating about in there. I could cause all manner of problems. Oh wait, the ghost line. As I entered the hospital the old ghost I had spoken to yesterday came to greet me.
“More questions, Daemon?” he asked.
“Actually, more reconnaissance. I’m trying to find my neighbours whereabouts. They had been arrested for drinking and drugs, but they had a little encounter with me, and now they may not be all that sane.”
The old ghost smiled, and then laughed. “Causing mischief already eh? Good for you. I wish I could do that but I been here a long while. My job here keeps me going day to day. I’ll get the others to search for them. What do they look like?”
I gave him the best descriptions I could think of and their possible symptoms, and then waited in the entrance. The living that entered or exited the building walked through me, some complaining about the air conditioning being too cold to the nurses and receptionists, but only getting the answer that it wasn’t turned on today as it was already too cold. They had heaters on. I chuckled. Although the sensation was strange having people walk through you constantly, their reaction was more amusing.
It felt like hours before anything was relayed back to me. It seemed that a few of the people I had mentioned were in here, bu
t Shelby and two others symptoms were so bad they had been sent to the mental hospital.
“Excellent!” I cried. “Just what I needed to hear. Thank you!”
The old ghost nodded, and I headed back home as fast as I could to give the good news to the guys,
Back at home, the guys were now watching TV. It was mid-afternoon already, and I felt a little giddy with everything I had read and found out. I told Michael what had happened to our lovely neighbours and he laughed, joyous as he retold the story to Steve. Steve appeared much more laid back about the whole thing, and just smiled.
“So what now, Sharon?” Michael asked me.
I noted the time. “To be honest, I just feel like relaxing today. I think I need a break. Even if only for today.”
Michael nodded. “I agree. You don’t want to go making yourself vanish like before. Everyone needs a break. Even the dead.”
So that afternoon we sat watching re runs of old comedies and sitcoms, and enjoyed just slumming it for a few hours.
Steve stood up quickly after another episode of Steptoe and Son, and declared it was time for dinner. The clock said 6:25pm. I headed for the laptop and logged in.
There was a new post from Panda.
“6:10pm. Commotion downstairs. Not sure what is happening but heard sirens a few moments ago. Probably the bully downstairs finally flipped and killed his missus and then himself? No sympathy from me.”
All Hope Lost Page 7
