Unhinged

by Chani Lynn Feener

  Why couldn’t she just be excited with him? Why did she get the feeling that his newfound discovery meant major changes for them? It shouldn’t. They were unchangeable. Even death couldn’t have managed it, there was no way him getting to talk to his deceased father was going to.

  They sat in the same order as they had the first night they’d run into Ferris, with Quinn sharing her and Micah’s booth. The waitress took their orders and when she’d left them alone again, the other three started talking.

  She turned to view the room, taking note of how crowded it was. For a second she forgot she’d been gone for so long and wondered why it was so busy on a Wednesday. Then she recalled it was actually Friday. That made more sense. The games section of the restaurant was completely packed; she couldn’t even see the door to the bathrooms anymore. And there wasn’t an empty table. They’d lucked out in even being seated.

  “So,” Syd twirled the straw in her water, refusing to meet Spencer’s eyes, “favor?”

  Spencer frowned.

  “We need you to rejoin the squad,” Syd rushed on. “Just for the big game. Taylor sprained her ankle in practice and we’re short one. It’d just be for the night, swear.”

  The “big game” was what everyone referred to Homecoming as. People dressed in the traditional gold and black school colors, and wrote “Go Honey Badgers” on their cars in washable paint. It was a big deal for their quaint little town, and it used to be a big deal to her too.

  Last year Micah had been the quarterback and she’d been on the cheer squad and homecoming had been a bigger thing than junior prom. Now… But why not? It wasn’t like she had any real reasons not to agree.

  “Alright.” She ignored the shocked looks all around.

  “Wow,” Syd floundered. “That was…easy.”

  Brodie stumbled into their table then, causing water to spill over the rims of their glasses. He was glaring Spencer’s way, but he had an almost sickly parlor and his eyes seemed to wander around her face. The smell of alcohol hung heady around him.

  “Is he drunk?” she hissed across the table towards Syd, shock from the realization too much to hold back.

  For as long as she’d known him, Brodie had been the good kid. Sure, he’d have a beer or two at a party, but he’d never let it get any further than that.

  “He’s been like this a lot,” Syd filled her in, trying to whisper about it so nearby tables wouldn’t overhear. “Ever since…well, you know. He manages fine for school, but after…”

  Shamefully Spencer realized that she hadn’t even bothered thinking about how Micah’s death had affected him. They’d been best friends, too. Brodie had even said that he considered Micah a brother.

  No duh he wasn’t taking it well. She should have thought about him, gone to see how he was doing.

  “So you’re just going to act like nothing happened, huh?” Brodie slurred at her. “Rejoin the squad. Resume your life.”

  She blinked up at him, stunned.

  “You don’t even like cheerleading,” he went on. “The only reason you even did it was to be closer to Micah.”

  “Calm down,” Ferris said, which was good, because Spencer had yet to find her voice. “You should probably go before you say something you’ll regret later.”

  “Please,” Brodie scrunched up his face at the Reaper. “You don’t know anything about her. She holes up in her room like she’s so torn up while the rest of us are forced to act like nothing’s wrong. Now all of a sudden she’s fine? He’s still dead!”

  “Brodie,” Quinn rested a hand on his arm. The two of them had always been the closest out of the bunch. They’d even dated a bit freshman year. “You should go, sleep it off.”

  He yanked her wrist off him, shaking her in the process. “You don’t understand.”

  Spencer was in the process of climbing out of the booth, but Ferris was up and blocking the way before she could even voice a word in protest.

  “Get your hand off of her,” his voice was so low that if she hadn’t been watching his mouth, she wouldn’t have even caught that he’d spoken.

  Brodie must have missed the underlying threat. His fingers tightened around Quinn’s, and she cried out in pain.

  “I don’t have to listen to you,” Brodie shook his head.

  She expected Ferris to flash a cocky grin, like she knew Hadrian would do if he was in this position, but instead his mouth tightened into a fine line and he clenched his hands at his sides. She quickly got out of the booth, stepping between them, resting a hand on Brodie’s chest.

  The last thing they needed was for the Reaper to kill the guy here in front of all these witnesses.

  “You’re drunk and you’re hurting her,” she scolded. “Stop it, Brodie. This isn’t you.”

  His pale blue eyes narrowed on her, for a second becoming vacant and bottomless. In that short moment it was like someone else was looking out at her from within his body. But then it passed, and he was smiling at her sloppily.

  “Since when were you the drunk asshole at the party?”

  “This ain’t no party,” he snapped back, losing patience with her. He went to shove her out of the way, but was forced back by Ferris.

  The Reaper barely tapped the guy at all, just lifted his hand and pressed the tips of his fingers to his chest. But Brodie flew backwards, taking down a waitress as he did so. He sputtered, dazed while the waitress screamed in his face about the food that was scattered around them.

  Ferris took Quinn’s hand and pulled her away, moving and leading them towards the doors without a backwards glance.

  Syd and Spencer followed behind, not wanting to stick around to see what Brodie was going to do next. By the time they made it to Syd’s car, their friend had burst into tears and was sobbing on the Reaper’s shoulder.

  “My place is closer,” Spencer told Syd, sliding into the passenger seat so that Ferris could comfort Quinn in the back. “Did you have to push him so hard?” she asked once they’d pulled out of the parking lot.

  Ferris held Quinn tightly in his arms, her head cradled underneath his chin. He looked at her, and the fire there had Spencer involuntarily gulping.

  “If the king had seen him reach for you,” he began in a tight voice, “the scum would be dead. Be grateful I have more self control than that.”

  She wasn’t really sure what he meant, but decided now wasn’t the time to press for an explanation.

  Chapter 22:

  “Someone should go get some food,” Sydney said a half hour later. “Seeing as how we never got ours.”

  They’d made it to Spencer’s house and had gone straight to the living room.

  “I can do it,” Ferris said, then froze when Quinn’s frail arms clung to him tighter. “Would you like to come with me? I’m faster than a car.”

  She blinked away tears. “You mean you’re going to do that whole disappearing thing?”

  He cracked a smile. “It’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah.”

  “That might be cool. I’ve kinda always been curious what that was like.” She turned towards the other two. “You don’t mind do you?”

  “Get Chinese,” Syd said in response.

  “Seeing as how that’s almost the only thing open at this hour,” Spencer added with a fake roll of her green eyes. “Just make sure to take a deep breath,” she warned Quinn. “Trust me.”

  Ferris and Quinn stood, and he nodded to her to signal that they were about to go. When she confirmed with a shaky smile, he wrapped an arm around her waist and then the two of them were gone.

  “So never getting used to that,” Syd said with a huff, slumping back onto the black leather couch. She patted Spencer’s thigh. “You think she’ll be alright, right?”

  “With him you mean? Yeah. He won’t hurt her.”

  “We trust a Reaper. Our lives have become so twisted. Like, for instance, the fact that righteous Brodie has become such an abusive dick. What would Micah say if he could see him now?” She paused, see
mingly recalling that he was a ghost. “Wait, is he here?”

  Spencer frowned. Micah had said that he’d show up. She stood, thinking maybe he was just waiting in the bedroom. That’s usually where they met.

  “He should be here,” she told her friend, moving for the stairs.

  “Isn’t he usually?” Syd got up with her, keeping step. She folded her arms over her pink top and shivered suddenly, turning to glance back over her shoulders.

  “What?” Spencer paused on the first step. She hadn’t felt anything.

  “Um, nothing. Must have been…Are you sure Micah isn’t here?”

  “No, why?”

  “I swear I just felt a chill, and aren’t ghosts supposed to change the temperature of a room or something like that?”

  “Not Micah,” she said. She looked around the living room, then twisted her head so she could peer into the kitchen. There was nothing there.

  “Ok—” Sydney’s eyes went wide as her hair was blown back away from her face as if a gust of wind had just entered. Except all the windows and doors were closed. “What about that? You felt that, right?”

  Yes, she had. And the feeling was all too familiar. Upstairs in her room when the ghost that wasn’t Micah had visited she’d felt the same thing. Which could only mean…

  “We should get out of here,” Syd said, panic clear in her tone.

  All of a sudden a pounding came at the front door, causing both of them to scream. They froze like deer in headlights, jumping when the sound came again.

  “I’m pretty sure ghosts don’t bother knocking.” Spencer frowned. She felt ridiculous as it was, even if it did happen to be a spirit. She’d just been to the Underworld after all. Hell, she hung out—well, sorta—with the God of the Dead. She could take one damn spook.

  Hopefully.

  “Who’s there?” she called, forcing her tone to come out authoritative.

  “Let me in, Spence!” Brodie’s voice came answering back.

  “Don’t think so, asshole!” Sydney called, blue eyes narrowing into furious slits. “Go sleep it off! We can talk in the morning when you’re less of a dick!”

  This time he slammed against the wood, shaking the door frame in the process. “I’m coming in so either you let me, or I’m breaking this thing down!”

  “Shit,” Spencer grabbed Syd’s arm and tugged her onto the stairs next to her. “I’m calling the cops, Brodie! They’ll be here any second so you better just leave!”

  The sound of shattering glass came then as he threw something through one of the frosted glass windows that flanked the front door.

  She and Syd bolted up the stairs the second his hand came through the hole and wrapped around the lock.

  The door clapped against the wall as he threw it open, but Spencer didn’t bother turning to see him enter. The guy was drunk, who knew what he was capable of. If they could just get to a room where they could really defend themselves, it would be ok.

  They practically slid into her bedroom, slamming her door shut and flicking the lock into place. They backed away, both of them reaching for their cells at the same moment.

  “Dead!” Syd hissed, tossing her phone onto the bed in a panic.

  “Mine too,” Spencer told her.

  “How is that even possible?! I had four whole bars less than a half hour ago!”

  Vaguely she recalled watching one of those ghost busting shows. They’d talked about how spirits needed to absorb the energy from electronic devices in order to manifest themselves. Which would explain why they’d both been totally creeped out right before Brodie had shown up. Maybe he’d scared the spirit away.

  He definitely scared her enough she wished she was away.

  “Spencer! Open this door! I just want to talk! About Micah!” Brodie reached her bedroom and started ramming against the door.

  “It won’t hold him for long,” Syd pointed out.

  “Ferris is coming back,” Spencer reminded her, needing the reminder a little herself. “Really soon.”

  As much as she wanted to believe Brodie, something told her not to trust he was just here to talk.

  “He better be,” she countered. Syd stilled like she’d done downstairs, glancing down and making a show of exhaling. A thick puff of white expelled from her mouth. “Oh. My. God.”

  Guess he hadn’t scared anything away after all.

  “Crap,” Spencer searched frantically for something she could use as a weapon. Even if she did find something against Brodie, she didn’t even know where to begin hurting a ghost.

  The door rattled again in the same moment as the light bulb in the green floor lamp positioned in the far left corner burst. Tiny tinkling sounds of glass hitting the dresser and wall filled the room.

  “Spencer!” Syd flung her arms around her, backing them up until they hit one of her end tables. “What’s going on?!”

  She wished she knew.

  Another light bulb, this one coming from over her desk exploded, and a wailing sound began to echo around the room. It grew in volume as one by one the rest of the lights went out; leaving them standing huddled in the darkness before they even realized it was coming.

  Something scraped across the floors, sounding like it was clawing its way towards them, digging into the hardwood surface and dragging itself across. The whole time the doorknob twisted back and forth frantically.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Spencer struggled to pull her phone back out of her pocket, then to find the flashlight app. At two points she fumbled and almost dropped it, just barely catching it at the last second. Finally she got the light to shine and spun it outward on the room.

  She flashed it everywhere, searching for whatever was coming towards them, but there was nothing.

  That’s when it started up in the walls, like a million scuttling creatures within trying to find their way out. It filled the air, joined by the heady scent of rot and decay which made them cough and gag.

  “Make it stop, Spencer!” Syd cried, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks now.

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that?!”

  “Speeeeeennnnccccceeerrrr!” Brodie shrieked out her name from the other side of the door, except it wasn’t only his voice that they heard. Attached to it was another, one more high pitched and eerie.

  One that sent tingles snapping down her spine, and the hair on her arms standing on ends.

  “What. The. Hell. Was. That?” Syd asked.

  “Waaaaaaallllllkkkkkeeeerrrr!” the scary Brodie/horror mash-up came again. “Speeeeennnnncccccceeeeerrrrr! Waaaaalllllkkkkeeeerrrr!”

  “Her last name’s Perry!” Syd called back, clearly so terrified now she’d entered la-la land. “Sorry, you must have the wrong house! Please go away now!”

  Spence turned to give her a funny look. She couldn’t be serious? But all she got in return was a shrug before the slamming on the door started back up again, shocking them both back to the matter at hand.

  There was a scraping sound, and with a frown she took a step closer towards the door, wondering what it could be. It didn’t sound like any of the other noises, more like what a swing set sounds like when it’s being used. The creaking, screech of metal rubbing against metal.

  She lifted the flashlight on her phone higher, aiming it at the door. Her breath instantly caught in her throat.

  The screws holding the hinges to the wall were slowly twisting, making their way little by little, further and further out. All on their own. The first one clattered to the floor, bouncing a few times ominously before joined by another.

  “Sppppeeeennnnccccceeeerrrr! Grrrrraaaaavvvvvveeeeee! Grrrraaaavvvveee!” The creepy voice was followed by the most terrifying bone chilling laugh she’d ever heard in her entire life.

  “It’s going to kill us,” Syd said next to her. “Did you hear?! It’s going to kill us and bury us in a fricken grave!”

  She was still caught up on that laugh. It had been a mixture of both deep baritones and high pitched wails. Somewhere in-betwee
n had been the unmistakable one that belonged to Brodie. Brodie, who she was beginning to believe wasn’t really even Brodie at all.

  The last screw fell, and for a split second the whole room went still. Neither of them even risked breathing in that moment. Then the door groaned and slowly it began to fall inward. It shook the entire room when it came down onto the floor, gusting up a swell of dust particles which the light from her phone easily made distinguishable.

  Spencer couldn’t move though, couldn’t lift her arm to aim the light towards the now too open doorway. She could just barely make out the outline of Brodie, who stood there unmoving. Something wasn’t right about him, she was positive. The ghost or whatever it was wasn’t separate from her friend. They were one and the same.

  His silhouette tilted its head at an almost impossible angle, held it, and then shook a little in what she could only consider was a silent laugh. He was just about to move forward, she saw it in the way his shoulders tensed, but didn’t get that far.

  From out in the hall another black shape appeared, rushing into Brodie’s side so quickly that even if she had positioned the light there it would have all been a blur. There was a scream, in that same creepy tone, a crash, and then a defining silence.

  She and Syd both waited. She had no idea what was out in that hall, or which black mass had won whatever fight had taken place. It had been short, but she prayed that Ferris had come back and easily done away with the ghost.

  Brodie…she’d figure him out later. Right now a crazy drunk sounded a lot better than a homicidal spirit.

  Footsteps sounded from down the hall, and she got up enough courage to finally lift the light right when one of the shapes turned into the doorway. It flashed on the tall figure, highlighting the dark hair and black eyes.

  She let out a tiny unidentifiable sound in the back of her throat and rushed for him, arms banding around his neck before her mind could even process exactly what she was doing.

  “Hadrian, thank god,” she said frantically against his neck. “I was so scared. I thought for sure that thing was going to kill us.”