He nodded his head ever so slightly.
I took a deep breath. Habit, really, but somehow it helped steady my ghostly nerves. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t look like one of them.”
He gestured to himself. “This is what happens when a deathmark eats its own ghost.”
It took me a few seconds to get it and when I did, I felt as nauseous as a ghost can feel. I remembered convincing Shadow to enter Donut Delight, way back in my early days of being dead. I’d wanted to see my deathmark, and he’d tried to convince me not to.
“It’s never very pretty when a lost spirit tries to meet up with its deathmark,” he’d warned me.
“How bad can it be, eh?” I’d asked, still believing I was immune now that I was dead.
Shadow shuddered. “Bad. It can be really bad.”
I stared at him. He’d been speaking from experience. “They met. Your deathmark ate your ghost, didn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“What was it like?” I couldn’t resist asking. “Isn’t that some form of cannibalism? Is it even possible to self-cannibalise?”
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
If I’d been alive and seen that smile, I’d have run the other way. As it was, I wondered what my chances were of surviving the night. Probably not too good. About all I could muster in my literally empty head was, Oh crap, my best dead friend is about to eat me.
As if reading my mind, he smirked. “Don’t worry, Axe. You and me, we’re like brothers. Try not to forget that.”
With this dubious reassurance and an unanswered question hanging between us, he faded away into the shadows. I watched the spot where he had vanished, noticed how the light gradually returned to the area, removing all trace of his dark exit.
I glanced towards Donut Delight. A moving shadow was pressed against the window. It was DD’s. As I turned to go, I wondered what I would tell DD and Faye. Maybe a good news / bad news deal. Something like:
“Hey, ladies. I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news: I know what happened to Bob. The bad news: I know what happened to Bob. He was eaten.”
On a more personal note, it would go something like this.
The good news: I would survive the night after all.
The bad news: my best ghost friend was a deathmark.
Worst Morning Ever
I took my time returning to the Ghost Post. I wasn’t in any hurry to deliver the good / bad news. Plus I was still mulling over what to do with the bag of bones I’d left with Lee. And how was it possible for Shadow to look like a ghost, keeping all his memories, and also be a deathmark? Is that what happened when a deathmark and its ghost met? Too many thoughts churned through me. Nothing like a close call with permanent annihilation to get the grey cells working overtime.
A dim, watery light heralded the break of dawn and another wet winter day. With that cheery sight, I finally dragged myself through the door of the Ghost Post, barely dodging the wood molecules. At least they were softer than the concrete ones.
DD was there, floating in the middle of the office. Faye had just arrived and was jabbering on about our road trip, which I’m sure would go down in ghostly history. If ghosts keep track of those sorts of things. Probably not, I reflected, since most of them are destined to either resolve their issues and move on, or lose most of their memories over time.
Yup, I was in a really upbeat mood that morning.
Faye twirled around me in a sickening blue blur. “Morning, Axe. Great news,” she enthused, flapping her arms about, her thick blond curls bouncing almost as fast as her arms. “Lee survived the night. Cal and Frankenstein didn’t show up. What a shame about Cal though. But good for our favourite little Chinese lady, right?”
I scratched at my chin. “Yeah. Sure is. Thanks. I mean it.” I didn’t sound like I meant it. I sounded as about as enthusiastic as a plumber faced with a row of blocked toilets.
Faye frowned. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”
“I have some news,” I said slowly, like I could delay this for very much longer.
DD glanced up at me. “Well, then, spit it out,” she commanded in a I-don’t-care-either-way tone.
I grimaced. “I can see why you’re the office therapist, DD. Fine. I found out what happened to Bob.” Faye began to clap her hands, but stopped when she saw my expression. “He was eaten. By a deathmark.”
Faye hovered in front of me, her hands still clasped together, a wide smile stuck on her face. For a second I thought she had actually frozen up. “Excuse me,” she said when she’d unfrozen her mouth. “What did you just say?”
I could barely look at her. “I’m sorry, Faye.”
“Are you very sure?” DD demanded.
“Yup,” I answered. “I have it from a very reliable source.”
Talking about reliable sources, the one in question floated into view, stopping in front of the window, hovering outside like a piece of night that refused to go away. A misty rain drifted around him, highlighting the darkness that shrouded him. I gulped, but he wasn’t paying me any attention. His gaze was fixed on DD.
Faye began to cry. DD’s hands hung limply by her side. And all I could think about was why Shadow had picked now, of all times, to visit the Ghost Post.
Faye shifted around and stopped when she faced the window. “Shadow, why don’t you come in?” she asked between snivels. She was staring past him, her eyes vacant, her face crumpled with misery.
Shadow said nothing, so I answered, “He can’t.” I glanced at the Chief’s office. DD said the Ghost Post was a safe place, that deathmarks couldn’t get in. Lurking by the window was as close as Shadow would ever get.
DD glanced behind her, probably wondering who we were talking about, and gasped. “You,” she said. It was an accusation and a wail of dismay.
I shifted towards the window, hoping I wasn’t about to become deathmark breakfast. But given the numerous opportunities Shadow had had to wipe me out of existence, I was almost certain I’d be alright. Almost.
“Hey,” I greeted him. “Glad you could join the party.”
He finally looked at me, his expression that strange mix of defiance and remorse. “Wouldn’t miss this one.” He lowered his voice. “So you didn’t tell them? About me?”
“Nope,” I said just as quietly. “I think that’s your job.”
I wondered if deathmarks have to work through their list of things done wrong and make them right, or if they were doomed to haunt other ghosts forever. What a dismal thought, which pretty much matched the whole dismal morning.
“Yes, it’s me,” Shadow said, shifting his focus to DD.
“You murdered me.” Her frog eyes were squinting as much as frog eyes can.
“Yes, I did.” A faint smile twitched across his face, but for once, I didn’t get the sense he was enjoying himself. “Sorry about that. Nothing personal.”
I snorted. I’d heard that before, and if killing someone isn’t personal, then I really don’t know what is. DD must’ve had a similar thought, because she hissed, “Ridiculous. Of course I take it personally.”
The air around Shadow darkened and quivered with vague tentacles, blotting out light. I figured for a guy like him, saying sorry did not come naturally. Having that apology thrown back in his face was even worse. But to his credit, he persevered.
“If it’s any consolation, I was murdered a few days later, by the same people who’d ordered your hit,” he said with a slight bow, the smoothness of his voice contradicting the tension on his face.
“You’re a deathmark,” Faye squealed, finally making the connection.
Talk about coming out of the closet. I wasn’t sure if I should feel sorry for Shadow or satisfied that he was getting what he deserved.
“Not exactly,” he said.
“Huh?” I stared at him. “But you…” I stopped abruptly, but it was too late.
He glared at me before glancing back at Faye. “I’m a hybrid of sorts.”
Bu
t Faye wasn’t listening. She’d caught on to what I had been about to say, and she shouted, “You ate Bob, didn’t you? How could you?” She spun towards me. “And how could you not say anything?” She wacked me with poltergeist force and I flew through the open window. Shadow ducked out of the way and I sunk into the lamp post.
“Sorry,” I wheezed as I extracted myself from the sharp metal molecules.
“We went on a road trip together,” she continued, her voice rising in pitch. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Shaking off a few lingering molecules, I warily joined Shadow in front of the window. “Uh, sure, it means something,” I said, wondering what it could possibly mean apart from the fact that I’d survived the wackiest road trip ever.
“I am sorry,” Shadow whispered. “For everything.” He turned to go, shadows gathering around him, blurring his outline until only a smudge remained.
And just when I thought the morning couldn’t get any worse, it did. Dark tentacles lashed out at me, wrapping around my legs, immobilising me with sharp zaps of pain. I felt like I was being electrocuted, right before energy began to flow out of me.
“Shadow!” Faye screamed.
I struggled against the binding darkness, but that only increased the energy drain. I wearily looked up into the faceless head of Ghost Eater. It was oozing out from behind a pile of rubble, its cowboy hat dipped towards me, as if in a final acknowledgement before it ate me.
It sure was turning into some party.
“Axe, get inside,” DD ordered.
I could barely lift my head towards her voice, and I definitely couldn’t follow her command. The two ghost ladies were standing at the window, but their faces blurred before me. A dark cloud bloomed in front of me.
So this is the end, I thought. No tunnel of light, just a black hole, the period at the end of the poorly written sentence that was my life.
My eyelids quivered. I heard Faye shriek, but it was muted. The black hole in front of me solidified.
“Shadow?” I whispered. Now I was hallucinating. Who knew ghosts could do that?
Another set of dark tentacles shot around me, but these ones ripped at Ghost Eater’s limbs, tearing them off me. It felt like chunks of my ghostly essence were torn off as well.
“Get inside,” Shadow growled at me before launching himself at the other deathmark.
“Sounds great,” I mumbled, the words slurring together, my gaze fixed on the blur of shadowy limbs flaying at each other.
“Really, do I have to do everything?” DD grumbled right beside me. I could feel her energy lifting me and dragging me through the concrete.
“That hurts,” I complained, but my voice was so faint, I don’t think she heard me.
My last view was of Shadow and Ghost Eater battling on top of the dumpster, their legs sinking into the garbage. And then a concrete molecule wacked into my eyeball and I passed out.
The Headlines
Ghosts can’t really pass out. But they can zone out. So that’s what happened, according to DD. With a concrete molecule embedded in my eyeball, I zoned out, and I didn’t zone back in until mid afternoon.
When I finally peeled my eyelids open, I wished I hadn’t. I was floating horizontally, just above the floor of the Ghost Post. White and blue spun around me at sonic speed, along with memories of recent events and revelations.
I tried to zone out again.
“You’re alive,” Faye squealed above me before zooming down to my side.
“Well, technically, no,” I said. “I’m very much not alive.”
She wacked me with a poltergeist blast of energy. Not enough to send me through a window, but I felt it. “No, silly, I mean you still exist.”
I rubbed at my arm, rolling to my side so I could glare at her. She just laughed. I’d have to work on that glare of mine. It obviously wasn’t having the desired effect anymore.
“What happened while I… What happened?” I asked.
“You mean while you were passed out?” Faye asked and giggled wildly.
I frowned at her. “Ghosts don’t pass out. We just zone out.”
Faye laughed even harder. “Sure, sunshine. While you were passed out, Shadow fought like a demon. It was quite a sight to behold. All that ghostly muscle and energy and skill.” She sighed and gazed into space dreamily.
“Ah, yeah, sounds great,” I said. “But what happened at the end of all that energy and whatever? Is Shadow alright?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, eyes shining in wonder. “More than alright.”
I rolled my eyes, glad that the concrete molecule was no longer lodged in one of them. It seemed Faye had forgiven Shadow for eating Bob. Or else she had forgotten. Either way, I didn’t bring it up. “And Ghost Eater?”
“That thing?” She huffed, clearly not wanting to be distracted from whatever she was remembering. “Shadow ate it. And good riddance.”
“Oh,” I said and floated into a sitting position, trying to not focus on that image. Not that I missed our pet or anything. Just… yuck. Not going to think about it. “Hi, DD.”
“It’s about time,” DD said from her position, floating in the middle of the room. “There’s another ghost I need you to escort here.”
I smiled. “I’m feeling, fine, thanks for asking.”
DD snorted. “And you’re welcome for saving your ghostly essence. Now I have a story to finish here. Headline news. Deathmark turned good.” She frowned. “Or something like that.”
I glanced outside. All I saw was a sheet of rain. “Is Shadow okay with you outing him?”
“Oh yes,” Faye gushed. “He suggested the story. Said it was his way to prove he was sorry and all. What a sweetheart.”
She sighed, DD snorted and I gulped down a sarcastic comment. It was a good thing Shadow wasn’t around.
“I hope you’re not going to write that in your story,” I said to DD.
She glanced at me, her frog eyes glowing with disbelief. “Axe Cooper, I do have a sense of self-preservation,” she said. “And since I don’t want to spend the remainder of my existence locked up in this office, you can bet I won’t be describing Shadow as sweet or anything nice.”
I sighed in relief. “That’s good.”
I floated to a vertical position. The room wobbled slightly, but I’d walked around with worse than that. “I’ll check out that ghost after I visit Lee.”
“Oh, me too, me too,” Faye said, bouncing up and down like a possessed yo-yo.
DD shrugged her shoulders as she handed me a note with instructions. “Whatever. The ghost isn’t going anywhere right now.”
That sounded weird to me, but I didn’t bother to ask why not. I wanted to find Shadow, to thank him, but that could also wait. He’d appear soon enough, I was sure. And so far, I couldn’t find any more signs of fading memories, so I even got a break from tracking down the wrongs and making them right.
“Maybe it’s not such a bad day after all,” I said, feeling hopeful for the first time in a while.
Faye giggled by my side. “Ah, the optimism. That’s what I like about you, Axe Cooper. The unquenchable optimism.”
I should’ve responded with a suitably sarcastic comment, but I was still basking in the glimmer of hope. So instead I grinned at her and flew out to meet the day.
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SOCIETY FOR PARANORMALS: A series concerning dead husbands, African legends and the search for a perfect spot of tea, where African myth meets Victorian manners. For those readers who adore “Pride & Prejudice” and would love to experience a paranormal safari set in colonial Africa.
Ghosts of Tsavo
Armed with Victorian etiquette, a fully loaded walking stick and a dead husband, Beatrice Knight arrives in colonial Kenya desperate for a pot of tea and a pinch of cinnamon. But she’ll need more than that if she’s to unravel the mystery of the Ghosts of Tsavo without being eaten in the process. All this while surviving the machinations of her best friend’s dashing godfather and the efforts of her safari guide to feed her to any lion willing to drag her away. What is a ghost-chasing widow to do?
The Automaton’s Wife
Beatrice Knight has enough to contend with: a zebra is dead on her lawn, her horse is possessed and a gentleman has arrived with the temerity to propose to her. To top it off, her dead husband Gideon has absconded with an automaton, threatening to return for his wife. The wife in question however soon has other issues, for a killer has moved into town with a nasty habit of carving up the victims. As luck should dictate, who should be the next target but Mrs. Knight herself?
Revenge of the Mantis
All is going as it should for Beatrice Knight, until the Lightning God lands in her barn and announces that her old nemesis Koki is about to pay an unsolicited visit. While powdered cinnamon works well on many insects, the giant Praying Mantis won’t be so easily dissuaded from exacting revenge against the intrepid paranormal investigator. And let’s not forget that Mrs. Knight’s cousin is engaged to a bat man while her brother has returned from the dead as a werewolf. As if that isn’t complicated enough, Mr. Timmons presents a possibility too terrible to consider, yet too tempting to refuse. Now, if only she could survive long enough to make a decision…
The Fourth Mandate
Having offered her firm and unequivocal resignation, Beatrice Knight is certain she is clear of her former employer, the Society for Paranormals, and is now free to proceed with her life and a wedding. It all seems quite simple, until the Society’s Director Prof. Runal shows up at the train station, her cousin announces horrifying news and a ponytailed dwarf decides he needs her powers to eradicate all non-humanoid paranormals. At least one thing is certain: anything is manageable with a pot of tea and a fully loaded walking stick.
Fatal Secrets Page 13
