Oracle of Spirits #2

by Mac Flynn

  "Believe me, it is. I just don't have the best handwriting in the world and Cronus wasn't willing to help me write them," he explained.

  He walked down the steps and I followed with my eyes stuck on the talismans in my hand. There must have been a hundred of the talismans, and they were all mine.

  Lucky me.

  CHAPTER 3

  "So you made all of these?" I asked Osman.

  "Yep. I got a cramp after about five hundred so the handwriting got worse, and that's the ones we're working through right now," he told me.

  "So where'd you learn to make these things?" I wondered.

  "Cronus," he revealed.

  "How'd that guy learn to make these things?" I continued.

  We reached the foot of the stairs, and Osman turned to me with that crooked grin on his face. "Let's just say he had a very knowledgeable teacher, and we'll leave it at that."

  "Why leave it at that?" I persisted, but Osman passed by me and down the hall. "Why leave it at that?" I repeated as I followed him.

  "That's part of his story, so you ask him," Osman ordered me.

  "But he's-" Cronus stepped out from the last door on the right, the locked one, and frowned at me, "-right here," I finished.

  Osman stopped beside Cronus and looked to his partner. "You got that name and address?"

  "Yes," was the bland reply.

  "Good." Osman opened the door, turned to me and swept his hand towards the door. "Ladies first."

  I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. "This is your circus. You start the show."

  I didn't like the sly grin that slipped onto his face. "Then as ringmaster I demand what is my due." He swept me into his arms and carried me out the door.

  I squirmed and wiggled, but his grip was as stubborn as he was. "Let me down! Let me go!" I demanded.

  "Can't do it. I'm the sass tax collector, and you're long overdue for paying your taxes," he teased.

  I glanced over his shoulder at Cronus. "Are you just going to let him do this to me?"

  "Yes."

  "You're an ass."

  "Don't bother calling him names, my dear Enid," Osman advised me as he carried me into the garage. "He's got the patience of a saint."

  "With the attitude of a shark, and don't call me Enid," I snapped at him.

  Osman swept me into the garage and dropped me into the back driver's seat. He grasped the edge of the car door and leaned over where I lay in a huddled mess. "If we're going to be working together we might as well be on a first-name basis."

  I opened my mouth, but I realized I had a problem. "What's your first name again?" I asked him.

  Osman's face fell. "It's Ian," he reminded me.

  I sat up and sighed. "Fine, first-name basis, but only if you promise not to carry me around like a sack of potatoes."

  He stood straight and raised his right hand. "I do solemnly swear to not to carry you like a sack of potatoes."

  I rolled my eyes. "Do you ever take what anybody else says seriously?" I wondered as Cronus slipped into the front passenger seat.

  "When it means saving my life, very," he replied. He took a seat in the driver's chair and backed out of the garage. "But you can't take too much of life seriously. It'll give you wrinkles."

  I leaned between the front seats and glared at him. "Is that back story you told me really true?" I questioned him.

  His smile faltered and his eyes narrowed. "I could show you Tiffany's grave," he offered.

  I winced and fell back against my seat. "I'll believe you."

  "Good, now sit back and enjoy the ride."

  Ian drove us across town to the old textile district with their four-floor brick buildings, old-fashioned street lights with the fat-headed glass bulbs, and limited parking. Most of the streetlights were broken, and so were a lot of the tall, wide windows in the buildings. A quarter of the blocks were dark, but a lot of the others showed signs of recent development into cafes with apartments or multi-story buildings.

  We parked in front of one of the newly renovated places, a five-floor red-brick place that was twenty yards long and nearly as deep. There were narrow alleys on either side of the building, and the sidewalk out front was newly repaired. The windows had been recently replaced with vinyl and the brick was washed clean. The lights on the bottom floor were on, and I saw a shadow at the rear of the floor. The interior was only partially finished with new plain-white walls and a concrete floor ready for hardwood flooring.

  We got out and Ian tilted his head back to get a full view of the tall building.

  "This place looks a little better than our usual investigations," he commented.

  "Disappointed?" I teased.

  He shook his head and nodded up at the top four dark floors. "I think those will give us enough excitement, but let's see if we can even get in."

  Ian led our little troop to the door. A woman was hunched over the unfinished counter to our right with her back to the entrance. Colorful fabric was strewn about the counter top and on the floor by her feet. More bolts of fabric stood against a nearby wall, and other unwound bolts lay on a table between us and the counter.

  Ian knocked on the glass in the center of the front door. The woman started and spun around to face us. She breathed out and her body relaxed as she leaned against back against the counter.

  "Could we come in?" Ian called to her.

  She walked up to the door and shook her head. "Sorry, but we're not open yet."

  "That's all right, we're not customers," Ian replied. He pulled out one of his cards and pressed it against the door of the glass. "Captain Morgan told us about your case and we thought we might be able to help."

  The woman leaned forward and squinted. Her lips moved as she read over the card. After a moment her eyes flickered up to Ian's face.

  "Is this some sort of a joke?" she asked us.

  Ian tucked the card away and shook his head. "No, ma'am, we're deadly serious, and we think you might have a serious problem. Could we come inside?"

  The woman glanced over us and pursed her lips. "All of you?"

  Ian gestured to Cronus and me. "These are my two assistants."

  The woman sighed and opened the door. We stepped into the unfinished space, and I looked around. A rough set of old stairs stood against the left wall. The faded and stained oak wood and rickety banister gave a hint as to what the place looked like before the renovations.

  Ian turned to the woman and held out his hand. "You must be Miss Hana."

  She shook his hand and managed a small smile. "Yes. I'm not sure how much Captain Morgan told you-"

  "He explained that your workers had seen shadows in the upper floors, and a man's been sighted," Ian told her.

  Miss Hana nodded. "Yes. It sounds silly to worry over a few shadows, but it scared enough of my men that the work's slowed down considerably. I thought perhaps the police could look into the matter, but they didn't seem interested."

  "But we're very interested in your case. As my card advertised, we specialize in the unusual and unexplainable," he replied.

  She bit her lower lip. "I can't really pay you too much-" He held up his hand and smiled at her.

  "For this job, it'll be free," he assured her.

  Miss Hana's smile widened and her tense shoulders fell. "I'm very glad. How would you like to start?"

  "We'd like a look around. Is that possible?" Ian requested.

  "If you think you need to, but the top two floors and the unfinished attic don't have any working lights," she warned us as she tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. "The electrician's supposed to come Monday to bring the electrical up to code."

  "That's fine. We have flashlights," Ian assured her.

  She glanced at her watch and sighed. "I have to close up here in a half hour. Will it take any longer than that?"

  "A half hour will work just fine for a preliminary search, but we might have to come back tomorrow for a more thorough examination," he warned her.

 
"That's fine. I work most every night here," she replied.

  "And have you seen any of the manifestations?" he wondered.

  She pursed her lips. "I'm not really sure. I have seen something, but I'm sure it's just my imagination."

  "And what have you seen?" Ian persisted.

  She nodded at the staircase. "Sometimes, when I'm facing the back wall as I was when you knocked on the window, I see something move over there. It's always just out of the corner of my eyes, so I can't be sure what it is. It could be just a mouse. This building's full of them."

  Ian smiled. "Well, if we see any we'll change our profession to exterminators and do you a favor."

  "I'd be grateful for the help," she laughed.

  Ian turned to us and jerked his head towards the staircase. "All right, my assistants, it's time to get to work."

  CHAPTER 4

  "Is there a life insurance policy attached to this job?" I wondered as I looked around the hallway in which we all stood.

  It was the second-floor hallway. Behind us was the rickety staircase from the ground floor, along with the flight of steps that led to the higher floors. In front of us stretched the dark passage with its myriad of shadows and odd, creaking noises. The passage traversed the entirety of the long building. On our left stood open doors that led into the small rooms, and to our right was a row of windows that looked out on the street and the car. One of the leaky old windows let in a draft that whistled as it worked.

  Ian pulled a flashlight from his overcoat and shook his head. "Nope. The policy would be too expensive."

  "Because there's such a high chance of it happening?" I guessed.

  "Pretty much." He clicked on the flashlight and flashed the light across the dark passage. The grimy windows didn't let in much light, and as I said before most of the streetlights outside were broken. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air. "I'm not getting anything on the scent front. Either of you two get any weird vibes?" he asked us.

  I raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be feeling something?"

  "As a mystic you're capable of sensing turmoil in humans and restless spirits in haunted places such as this," he told me.

  I shrugged. "That's great, but I don't really know what I'm supposed to be feeling."

  "A sense of-what was it, Cronus?" Ian asked his partner. Cronus pressed his lips together and glared at Ian. Ian frowned back. "Come on, what's the feeling she's looking for?"

  Cronus looked away from us and tilted his head back to stare at the point where the ceiling met the wall. "There is a presence here. An earthbound spirit."

  "That's great, but could you help Enid out here?" Ian persisted.

  Cronus looked back to Ian and glared at him. "That is all that can be discerned without a manifestation of the spirit."

  Ian sighed. "Well, we'd better get searching for it then." He flipped the flashlight in his hand and held the grip towards me. "You can take this."

  I took the flashlight, but noticed he didn't bring out any more. Cronus took one out and turned his on.

  "Don't you need one?" I asked Ian.

  He grinned and tapped his temple. His eyes glowed a bright yellow in the dim light. "My curse, remember? It's a blessing in these dark places."

  "For once I wish I had your curse," I commented as I flashed the light across the space. "So where do we start?"

  "You and Cronus can start in the attic and I'll start here," Ian suggested.

  Cronus spun around to face Ian and glared at him. "I will not."

  "If there's trouble we can take care of ourselves, but Enid's a rookie," Ian pointed out.

  "Then you protect her," he insisted.

  "You can teach her what to look for," Ian argued.

  I held up my hands. "Guys, if it's such a big deal then I can wait out in the car."

  "And lose your pay?" Ian asked me. I dropped my arms to my side and frowned. Ian returned his attention to his partner. His lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes glowed a little brighter. "Take her upstairs and tell her what she needs to know. Now."

  Cronus frowned, but turned away and marched up the higher flight of steps. I turned to Ian and jerked my head at the fastly disappearing Cronus.

  "You sure this is a good idea? He might feed me to the spirit," I warned him.

  "Only monsters eat humans. Spirits can only scare you to death or push you down stairs," he told me.

  I pursed my lips and turned back to the stairs. "Real comforting. . ." I murmured as I tiptoed after Cronus.

  The flashlight was bright and helpful as I climbed the rickety old steps. They were strewn with fallen plaster, broken boards, and sheets of sheet rock ready to climb to the higher floors. I peeked my head over the floor of the third floor and scoured the area with my flashlight. The walls were torn down to the studs and electrical wires dangled from the ceiling. My flashlight shone on the tall, narrow boards that stood like bones on a skeleton. The beam created shadows of tall, thin figures along the rear wall to my left, and a harsh, cold breeze blew past me.

  There was no sign of Cronus.

  "Hello?" I called.

  "Up here," a voice above me spoke up. I yelped and shone my flashlight on the stairs above me. Cronus' pale, scowling face leaned over the railing two flights above me. "We need to get to the attic," he reminded me.

  "Right. I knew that," I mumbled as I hurried up after him.

  I caught up to Cronus on the fifth floor where the stairs ended. The floor was as stripped as the third floor. A stack of sheet rock leaned against the wall to our right and partially covered the windows. There were no wires that hung from the ceiling, nor was there an outlets nailed to the studs.

  "She wasn't kidding when she said this place didn't have power. . ." I murmured as I took a few steps forward. I shone the flashlight over the wall to our left. "So how do you think we get to the attic?" Cronus didn't reply, but he did stride forward. "Hey, wait for me!" I yelped as I hurried after him.

  He stopped in the center of the hallway and looked up. I let my flashlight follow his gaze and I noticed a hatch in the ceiling. "Great. So how do we get up there?"

  "Look for something to stand on," he ordered me as he strode off into the jungle of studs to my left.

  I scowled at his back and strode forward deeper down the dark passage. Strangely, the air on this higher floor was colder than the others. "You could have at least said 'please'. . ." I mumbled.

  I froze. My flashlight caught something in the far right corner of the hall some twenty feet in front of me. It was the form of a small child. They faced the corner, but I could see they wore an old-fashioned dress and dainty buckle shoes.

  "H-hello?" I called out. There was no reply, so I inched closer. "Are you lost? What are you doing up here?"

  "Who are you talking to?" Cronus questioned me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at him. "There's a kid over here. I think something's-" I looked back to the child in time to watch them slowly turned around.

  That's when I noticed they weren't standing. The kid was floating. My beam caught on the child's face and it felt like a cold hand clutched my heart. The face was a grotesque mixture of rotting flesh and skeleton. Its eyes burned like those of the phantom, and there was a hideous grin across its fleshy gray lips. It opened its arms.

  "Pick me up," it cooed.

  My feet were rooted to the floor. I shook my head as it started to float towards me.

  "No. Stay away. Stay away from me!" I screamed.

  The creature's momentum sped up. It flew over the floor and reached out to me. I flung up my arms and turned away.

  Something flew by me, but it wasn't the hideous child. Cronus slipped between me and the creature. He pulled out one of the talismans and threw it at the thing. The creature flew to the side into the maze of studs and disappeared into the shadows.

  The cold feeling over my heart disappeared. My shaky legs collapsed beneath me and I slowly dropped onto the floor. Cronus straightened and turned to stare down at
me. My flashlight lay in my lap, so I couldn't see his face.

  "W-what was that?" I whispered.

  "A poltergeist," he told me.

  I heard a pounding of footsteps on the stairs, and Ian's familiar dark shape appeared at the top. "What's happened?" he called to us.

  "A manifestation," Cronus explained.

  Ian hurried over and knelt beside me. "Are you hurt?" he asked me.

  I shook my head and struggled to my feet. Ian helped me up. "No, just a little frightened out of my wits," I joked.

  Ian glanced at Cronus. His voice was tense. "What exactly happened?"

  "It was my fault," I spoke up. I pushed out of his gentle hold and pointed my flashlight at the corner. "I saw a kid in the corner over there and went over to look. They-it-tried to attack me, and Cronus saved me."

  Ian turned to Cronus and raised an eyebrow. "You saved her?"

  "Unfortunately, the poltergeist escaped, and I can no longer sense its presence," Cronus explained without answering the question.

  Ian folded his arms across his chest. "So it's retreated back into Purgatory. And you didn't sense it before Enid saw it?"

  "Not specifically. It appears to be an old spirit," Cronus replied.

  "What's that mean?" I asked them.

  Ian dropped his arms and sighed. "It means we're going to have to bring in outside help to see this thing before it sees us."

  "That doesn't exactly answer my question," I persisted.

  "Scientifically, it means the spirit has resided in the building for so long that it's no a part of the building," Ian explained. "That means that for mystics and spiritualists like yourselves you can sense them, but you can't pinpoint their exact location."

  "So we're sitting ducks in here?" I guessed.

  "In a way, yes," Ian agreed. He turned to Cronus. "Dig up what you can about this building. I'll take Enid with me and make a stop before I go pick up our old friend."

  My eyebrows crashed down. "What stop?"

  He turned to me with a grin. "I don't know about you, but I'm famished. How about dinner?"

  CHAPTER 5

  We met our client at the bottom of the stairs. She looked up the flight of steps with wide eyes, and the hand that grasped the railing shook. Her face was a little pale, and her words had an accent of a tremor in them.

  "I thought I heard someone scream. Is everyone okay?" she asked us.

  We reached her and Ian smiled at her. "We're all fine, but I'm afraid you definitely have something in residence here."