My Demonic Ghost: Banished Spirits

by Maree, Jacinta

The Reapers and Hunters, they worked in perfect synch with each other. The Hunters had the ability to track the Banished spirits, snapping their chains, while the Reapers were ready to catch them once their connection had been broken.

  The Banished spirits were flailing helplessly across the room. Sabotage tumbled to the ground not far from Cult as a clumsy Goon bounded towards her. I scanned for Dean but all I found was a glimpse of his back as he bolted into a run, kicking down the door and sprinting free without a second thought. Through him, Sabotage vanished with the pull of his chain and together they made their escape down the hall and towards the streets outside. Damage vaporised in front of Dean’s path, and with her flat hand held out, she bounced him back to the floor where a Reaper waited, ready to tear the two apart. Dean screamed for his sister as she clung to the links between them, but Damage broke the chains around his ankles as the Goon dragged Sabotage away with its jaws.

  My eyes instantly fastened on Lock, lying still in the centre of the commotion. Gargoyle stepped over Lock’s body with his feet placed on either side of Lock’s head. My legs sprinted toward them. I landed two hands into Gargoyle’s back, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. I ricocheted off him and crashed to the floor at the same moment that a series of blasts were fired from behind, knocking Gargoyle off his feet. He collided with Chaos, who was also shielding himself from a bombardment of missiles. The Hunters were being pushed. I knelt next to Lock, cupping his face in my palms. He was heavy but lacked warmth.

  Above my head, the groaning of magic whipped past as both Howl and Nails pushed against the attackers.

  “Rachael?” Betrayal’s voice called from next to me. She was kneeling an inch away, holding up a misty shield as a barrier between the Hunters and us, while above her Nails and Howl fired punches. “Lock needs to vanish into the Spirit World. You can hide through the darkness, but both of you must go.”

  “You want us to call Mother?” I asked, clutching at Lock’s wrists as I struggled to haul him up.

  “No, not Mother! Lock needs to be completely restored, and to do this he must die all over again. Because you are attached to him, you must go to back into Lock’s memory. You’ll be safe there for a while, and Lock can heal. But there is a cost. He will forget you. He’ll forget everything about his time as a spirit!”

  “I’m okay with that.” I shouted, but my throbbing heart told me otherwise. He would forget me… forget everything…

  “You must go. GO NOW!”

  “But how?”

  “He can’t fully vanish because you have half of his spirit power. You must drain him so he can die!” She vanished, and with her, the shield was lifted.

  I clutched Lock closer and lifted my palm, my eyes closed tightly as I listened to the shrill cries of the battle continuing above me. I rested his head on my lap, concentrating as hard as I could, and thinking up invisible levers that I had to pump to withdraw Lock’s power into my body. But it was no use.

  I glanced up, calling to Betrayal again, but my cries were lost under the collision of Spirits and Hunters knocking their fists together. Howl was fighting with hunger for blood in his eyes, firing every punch and missile he could master out into the small pack of the Hunters. Three Hunters and three Banished souls, and waiting behind them were Goons and Reapers patrolling the abandoned Hosts who remained sprawled across the floor. The blondes were flickering like ghosts so that it was hard to follow their movement.

  The Hosts of the remaining spirits all sat shivering in the back corner, but it was Jake’s cries that shook the entire room. The dark smoke sizzling from around Howl’s punches started to reveal the chains that tied Jake to him. The links struggled to remain connected against the stress and pulling from Howl’s fighting. It had happened so suddenly that I didn’t get a chance to warn Howl. The intensity of Howl’s rage kept the Hunters at bay, but through his hunger for murder he summoned a storm of power that engulfed Jake. Through the spirals, Jake fell to his knees choking and clutching at the chains that bound him.

  It was a shock how fast Jake died, his soul completely washed out and flung free from his body. As his body fell, defeated and dry from being drained, so too did the hurricane of smoke vanish, and through his death Howl was swept into the claws of the Goons and dragged down into the shadows. Howl did not scream for release, but continued swinging his arms, trying to knock down anyone within reach. Jake was also collected, and together, they vanished.

  I fell onto Lock’s chest again and slammed my eyes close. Like a broken record player, I kept reciting the same dribble of words over and over again. Please let this work, please let this work….

  My grip tightened as the darkness behind my eyelids shielded me from the horror happening above. He did not move, but the noise above me had started to weaken as the distance grew between us. A warm touch built up from our toes, folding over our slumped bodies. I don’t know if it was me who was summoning up the shield or if it was Lock acting on instinct, but we huddled ourselves underneath the protective blanket until the very last spark flickered out.

  Chapter Twenty-Six:

  There was darkness in front of my eyes. It was tranquil. Still… Stale…

  It kept the messy world shut behind the gloom, as if I’d stepped through into a Realm I didn’t belong. A scattered fog rolled in across a flickering screen, like the projection of a movie being played outside on a misty night. But it felt so much clearer than just watching a TV screen, it was more so like a stage where I could enter the play and stand among the actors. And though I was confused about where I was, I wasn’t frightened. There was no sense of alertness about me, a calm and mellow string of emotions sat upon my chest. Behind the vapour, lost in its wanderings, was a sweet touch of piano. It was beautiful and soft, each note gliding along the back of the music like fairies floating among pollen. And as the music grew and built so did the haze warp into a picture.

  In front of me were the straight backs of two boys seated behind a piano. They both held out their hands, skimming their fingers along the keys, not once having to look at the page open in front, but instead watched each other’s agile hands. Seated around them was their onlooking family. One of the boys at the piano was Lock, his ruffled brown hair and dimpled smile being a dead giveaway. He looked slightly younger, as though with this memory we’ve stretched back a year or so.

  The older boy next to Lock nodded his head in praise before they continued on, the soft touches of the piano not lost behind the delicate applause from the family. The smile on my face stretched as I skimmed over the faces of the onlookers, but then fell when I noticed the grinning face of Uncle Ray sitting back in his chair with a handful of sweets stuffed into his palm. The woman that stood obediently behind Uncle Ray’s chair was my Aunty Ange, who watched her husband munch on his treats more than her son’s performing. And surely enough, my cousin Nathan was also present, sitting on the floor with his chin cropped up by his palm, watching everything. Lock was a part of Uncle Ray’s family… my family…

  The music came to a soft stop as Uncle Ray stood and clapped the eldest boy on the shoulder, and in a ghostly voice he cheered, “Nicely done, Jordon.” Jordon turned and smiled at his father.

  “Thanks dad, but really we should be congratulating Evan instead. This piece is not easy to learn and he mastered it in three weeks.”

  Lock’s real name is Evan...And he was the other son, the little boy that I never got to meet…

  I watched Evan struggle out of his brother’s hug and laugh with a smile that spread widely across his face. This boy and Lock, there was no way they were the same person. Lock never smiled like this. The only thing they had in common was that they had the same face. That was all.

  There was a hazy flicker before the scenery in front changed, the smog blowing the picture away until I was standing alone with Evan as he walked through the forest, dressed in his school uniform with a back pack hung over his shoulder. He looked up and slowed to a halt, noticing a stranger’s car parked o
ut in the driveway before stepping around the vehicle with cautious steps. His face was ringed with worry and confusion, even through the static of his memory I could clearly detect his anguish at the sight of it. He closed his eyes and ran past.

  There was another flicker as the scene faded and rebuilt once again, this time into Evan and Jordon sitting on the couch in their lounge room, Jordon busy in his book while Evan flicked pencil shavings onto the floor.

  “Hey, Jordon, do you think you can teach me another song?” Jordon tossed him a sideways glanced before returning to his novel.

  “Another one? Are you sure you’ve mastered the song I just taught you?”

  “Yes, I’ve practised really hard and I know it really well. I even bought a recording of it on a CD so I can listen to it at night,” Evan said.

  “Well, we’ll see. Alright?” he answered drearily, now too consumed into his novel to pay Evan any more attention.

  Moments later there were rapid taps on the door that was answered by Aunty Ange, wearing her summery dress with her sleek hair back in a tight bun. Evan hastily crept to his feet and peeked outside, and as I shifted to look over his shoulder, I could watch my younger self dawdle in after my parents. The sight almost caused me to cry as Evan continued spying before turning on his heels and leaving.

  The scene vaporised as I found myself standing alone in Evan’s room. The bed sheets had been kicked back and the mattress was still warm from where he had been sleeping. His door was left wide open behind me as I turned and felt the warmth of the light spill onto my face. I stepped out into the hall and spotted Evan crouched next to the stairway railing. I couldn’t see his face, but he’d turned his head to watch and remained completely motionless, becoming a statue of himself. He did not alter, not even in the slightest, whereas I couldn’t stop fidgeting, uncomfortable at the screaming coming from downstairs. Uncle Ray was furious, Aunty Ange was in distress. But after a while his shoulders loosened and his head lowered into a bow.

  The smoke flickered as the shadows bounced to the side and made room for the next snapshot of Evan’s memory. It was back at the drive way again, the same strange car stationed outside their house as Evan walked home wearing a winter parker and a beanie over his head. Some time had passed for his hair had grown longer and his body seemed more built than his younger self. This time he didn’t stop to inspect the car, but instead, kicked at the wheels and sped past it. Up ahead, moving in through the gaps of the window curtains was Uncle Ray caressing and snuggling into the back of a dark haired woman. I couldn’t see her face, but I could instantly tell by her high pitched laugh that she was not Aunty Ange.

  Evan disappeared down a veiled dirt pathway ahead of me, weaving through the wild gardens to the left of his home. The grass among the track had been worn down into a footpath. As I followed, I noticed a small cottage belonging to an old woman at the end of the trail. She waited for Evan out on the porch, and when spotting him nearing her door, pulled out a plate of freshly baked scones. Evan hugged her waist as she lightly patted his head and when he released her she offered him the platter of sweets, the two of them not needing to exchange any other greetings.

  He seated himself on the step and hid his head into his folded arms, remaining there until night time. His body shivered against the increasing cold; even with the older lady’s blanket wrapped around his shoulders he still turned pale and coughed so that white clouds erupted from his blue lips. The elder lady shuffled outside and sat by him, pointing to the stars that hung like jewels above their heads, while her cat slept in a coil on her lap. She would talk about her own younger years and the adventures of the new world she had to adapt into, and the two of them would burst into laughter until their stomachs were in stitches and she ushered Evan to return back home.

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at how tender they were with each other, but at the same time I felt like I was invading on something private. The clouds danced past my eyes until I appeared, waiting in the kitchen with Evan, his head turned up to his dad, who fished inside his wallet for some cash.

  “Here, buy yourself something nice.” He handed Evan a handful of notes before tucking his wallet back into his pocket, already turning towards the open door where a large black car waited for him. The house was sprinkled with Christmas decorations as Aunty Ange had talked herself into covering every piece of wall with tinsel. Evan inspected the money for a moment longer before dumping it onto the kitchen table. He dashed up the stairs and weaved into his room, where he fished out his own money from inside his pillow case. He counted up the few pennies he had left before bouncing off and galloping out the door, his cheerful steps causing Jordon to pull back from searching the fridge and call out to him.

  “Where are you going?” he had asked, taking out a bottle of orange juice and preparing two glasses.

  “Shopping…”

  “Don’t forget your money then,” Jordon motioned to the roll of notes left on the counter. Evan shook his head vigorously, as if amused.

  “I’m using my own, going to buy Mum and dad something.”

  “Oh?” Jordon stopped his pouring and raised his eyebrows with interest. Behind Jordon, Nathan walked in, munching his way through a packet of chips, his eyebrows lifted in interest.

  “Why you doin’ that?” he stuttered between each bite.

  “What’s it to you? I’m not getting you anything,” Evan bit back. Nathan lunged forward with his fist curled, but Jordon held up an arm to hold him back.

  “Oi, cut it out, Nathan. It’s really thoughtful of Evan to buy something for Mum and Dad.”

  Nathan screwed his face up at their mention, and when passing through the kitchen, Evan had to lean his shoulder back from being knocked over. Evan was treated like a foul smell that had moulded into the carpet. He wasn’t related by blood to Nathan who hadn’t taken too nicely to the addition to the family. He had placed the divorce of his mother on Aunty Ange’s arrival, and of course, onto Evan as well.

  I followed Evan’s memory as he hunted for the perfect gift, and after a few hours of wandering, he had chosen a silver photo frame with ivy vines woven up the sides. Inside of it, he placed an early family portrait. Young Evan was still wrapped in diapers and upon the knee of his brother Jordon. Jordon held his waist firmly with Nathan standing at his flank, an uneven smile creeping across his lips, while behind them on either side, smiles reaching into their eyes was Aunty Ange and Uncle Ray.

  That night after tracking home from his shopping, Evan was met by Uncle Ray by the front door. He looked stern.

  “Evan, come in here for a moment.” He ushered Evan inside with a soft touch on the back, steering the confused boy into the lounge room where he placed him firmly into a chair. I followed closely behind. “I know you’re a big boy now and you are familiar with, the umm… cycle of life…” Uncle Ray paused, searching the rafters for the correct words while Evan itched in his seat. His soft, mellow eyes were protruding out of his head, lips drawn open as tears built up ready for the downpour. I could almost feel the acceleration of his panicking heart drum throughout the room. He looked so fragile in the bulk of the couch cushion, fingers clutching to the arm rest as his eyes dashed across Uncle Ray’s face for an answer. Aunty Ange stood silently watching, hands clasped together and her face fixed onto Evan. I wanted to push her toward him; to make her wrapped her arms around his quivering body.

  “Mrs Flitch from next door has passed on. We were told by paramedics a few days ago, when some of the old ladies rang, worried about her not turning up for bingo. She went without pain...”

  “She died a couple of days ago? Why didn’t you tell me?” Evan hollered.

  “Well, it just slipped our minds.”

  “It just slipped your mind? Are you kidding me?” The strain on Evan’s voice started to crack.

  “Evan, lower your voice. Don’t talk to your father like that…”

  “She’s just some old woman, why are you getting so worked up over her?” Uncle Ray sc
offed.

  “She wasn’t just some old woman! You didn’t even know her!!” Evan spat and kicked at the table, accidentally booting the bowl of sweets across the room.

  “Pick that up right now!”

  I had never seen Uncle Ray’s face flare with such anger before. Evan kicked off into a run but was caught by the elbow before being dragged back onto the ground. Aunty Ange whimpered from behind. There carpet burned along his skin as he was dragged, but that just fired him up to fight even harder. Evan continued kicking out against his father’s leg as Uncle Ray shoved the attacking limbs away with slaps until Jordon pounced in the middle, breaking the two of them up. His father shoved Jordon off with an easy grunt before storming out, slamming the door on his way out. Aunty Ange was left to sweep up the mess. Nathan had been hiding behind the door frame, diverting his eyes as Uncle Ray stormed past with a look of fear across his face. Evan struggled back to his feet before darting out of the room with his face covered. No one followed him.

  Time sped past and soon it came to Christmas Eve. I watched Evan place his gift of the picture frame on his parent’s bedside table, secretively, just before heading off to bed. It was late and both Uncle Ray and Aunty Ange we’re scheduled for a business trip early the following morning. A separated Christmas wasn’t rare, so it was understood this was the perfect and only time if the children wanted to give their parents gifts .After leaving the package, Evan crept back to bed, squirming in his own excitement. When morning came, the first thing he did was check their room for their reaction.

  It was a sad surprise to find that the room was empty, the bed covers had been kicked back and the curtains were still drawn shut. Evan found the frame, knocked to the ground with a coat tossed over it. The glass had been cracked straight through the middle of their smiling faces and Evan’s fingers snapped back from touching it as if it were made of hot coals. Nathan was watching from the door frame.