SWIFT
of spirit
By Rodzil LaBraun
© 2017 Rodzil LaBraun
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contact author with questions: [email protected].
Chapter One – Swift
Chapter Two – Sarah
Chapter Three – Wander
Chapter Four – Return
Chapter Five – School
Chapter Six – Energy
Chapter Seven – Watcher
Chapter Eight – Char
Chapter Nine – Overwhelmed
Chapter Ten – Colton
Chapter Eleven – Revelation
Chapter Twelve – Melissa
Chapter Thirteen – Father
Chapter Fourteen – Secrets
Chapter Fifteen – Regroup
Chapter Sixteen – Confrontation
Chapter Seventeen – Challenge
Chapter Eighteen – Demons
Chapter Nineteen – Knife
Chapter Twenty – Human
Chapter Twenty-One – Detained
CHAPTER ONE: SWIFT
Swift wandered into the silent, vacant home. He had been named Swift by his peers in the early days when he was much faster than most of the others. These days everyone moved at roughly the same speed, he thought. It did not dishearten him. He knew that he was just ahead of the curve for a relatively short period of time. But the name stuck, so he kept it. He could not remember the name he bore before it.
The home was vacant of people but full of personal and family belongings. Pictures peppered nearly every wall of the first floor showing the children at various stages of their growth. Among them were family photos during the holiday season and on vacations at the beach. There was no evidence of any pets, which was a little unusual for a family with three children, but not necessarily rare. The house was kept tidy and clean for the most part. There were always crumbs under the sofa and cobwebs in the forgotten corners. The electronic devices in the living room could use a little dusting. But all the photos on the wall were clean with shiny glass. He was not there, however, to inspect their housework.
Swift had always been envious of people for the ability and desire to capture moments in time. Memories, they called them. Swift had his own memories, of sorts. He just didn't have any photos. Come to think of it, he admittedly had few moments in time to remember fondly. No family members to be sure. One would think that viewing said images in a family's home would make him sad. But it did not. He would take in every detail of every depiction like a person would read a book. It was his own method of personal growth, he decided. Each new photograph would fill in another piece of the puzzle in his search for understanding who these people really were.
Swift was not sure what he was supposed to be looking for here. Instructions from his superior were rather vague. That was veritably common these days. The league that he served had so many individuals doing roughly the same thing, just snooping around. He occasionally longed for the old days when he had a partner and real purpose. The sharing of an experience with another was uniquely satisfying and meaningful. Perhaps that was why it was rarely permitted now. He was not sure.
The name of the family that lived in this home was Hutchins, and they had three children. Both parents appeared healthy and happy in the early photos. Jessica and Colton were their names, according to the mail lying on the dining room table. Jessica seemed fatigued in her eyes occasionally, but that was expected of a mother of three. In later pictures, she put on a little weight and lost some of the passion for life that tends to fade with time. Although, Swift might be reading more into the images than he should.
The father, Colton, didn’t age as quickly as his wife. His expression varied little from one photo to the next. As did anything that Swift could read in his eyes. That typically showed stability and contentment. Likely he had a steady job for many years and handled any surprises in life calmly.
The oldest child was a teenage girl that would undoubtedly be considered beautiful in physical appearance by many. The photos of her showed beaming smiles in her younger years, but they quietly gave way to boredom and discontent in her mid to late teens. Swift was certain that many onlookers would not see the signs of such in her eyes and facial expressions. It was a self-determined talent of his. Perhaps his peers should have called him Reader instead.
Sarah was the elder girl's name. He found it noted on several of her belongings. Her bedroom was kept reasonably uncluttered for a teenager, he thought. The decorations were not especially gender specific which was unusual in his travels for a child of any age. Maybe they had not lived at this location long enough for her to make the room her own. He was not privy to such information, but he could search for it if he liked. Yet, it would only distract him from his mission. So, he dismissed the notion and continued his exploration.
Sarah apparently liked to wear blue jeans, the closet was full of them, and draw with a mere pencil in small sketch books. Her depictions were not impressively creative, but the content was worthy of consideration. Several drawings would lend well to a horror or suspense movie. Perchance this was what he was meant to find. He took the effort to memorize her artwork with such subject matter so he could report it later to his supervisor. In doing so he imagined how a movie might play out if Sarah were to write the story. It was something he did frequently to pass the time. How would people take what was going on in those lives and make a motion picture out of it. It wasn't so much that he was intensely fascinated with movies. No, he genuinely found them less enjoyable than the still photos on the wall. His fascination was in how real life was depicted in the writing, acting and direction of the film. It was like watching a person's imagination in progress.
Swift checked the next room where Sarah's younger brother would sleep. His name was Hunter. The photos and trophies in the boy's room indicated he was quite active in sports. Toys and clothes were scattered in disregard. There were a few candy wrappers in the mix as well. Nothing of consequence about this boy, he decided after a cursory glance, except athletic talent.
The last child's room belonged to Hunter's younger sister, Jenny. Unlike her older sister with dark hair, this girl was blond like her brother and parents. Swift would guess her current age to be about eight or nine. Dolls and tea sets were placed precisely about the room as though they were souvenirs from her earlier years. On her night stand he found a bible and a notebook full of her thoughts about what she had been reading in the thick book. Her desk contained more volumes of her considerations. This was very curious, he thought, for a girl her age. Lingering a moment longer he attempted to gleam important details from the little girl's jottings.
Jenny didn't have many photos of herself in her room. No trophies or snapshots with friends or family either. When he remembered the girl's expression in family pictures he became confused. She looked happy at first glance, wearing a smile that matched her mother's identically. Yet in the eyes, he found something he could not fully describe. Hopefully, an opportunity to view these family members in action would soon present itself. The two, female offspring had sparked his curiosity. Swift knew he must present an intriguing report to his boss if he wanted to be assigned here. Words to describe them were already forming in his mind.
If the children's rooms held any indication of why he was meant to snoop on this family, the parent's bedroom expanded on it. Only there were two possible motives and he wasn't convinced which was presumed to gain his interest. The mother had the same version of the bible on her nightstand, but no notebooks. It appeared evide
nt that the little daughter took strongly after her mother. The father's personal belongings were of no interest. However, among his collection of watches Swift found the man's government identification. Colton worked in the department of a well-known congressman. Maybe that was intended to be Swift's angle?
Downstairs he found the man's office and several file folders of work related to the congressman. This type of thing was boring to Swift, but often his superiors were keenly interested. He did his best to memorize everything that he could personally view. No doubt, there was significantly more on the hard drive of the computer that sat mockingly in the center of the desk. Unfortunately, Swift would have no method of accessing it. Things were much easier before the dawn of electronic data, he reminisced.
Before he could complete his scan of information from the small office Swift heard the front door open. He must have been too entranced with his investigation of the home that he failed to notice the car arriving in the driveway. Family conversation ensued and drew his desire to see these people in action. From his vantage point he could observe that they were all dressed formally. As he had previously deduced the whole family had been at church services that morning. Now they were hungry and some were eager to get out of their ceremonial attire.
The father yanked his tie loose, and untucked his shirt. He was wearing a black suit and white shirt, like he did in the formal photos about the residence. His keys found the hook by the door as he removed his shoes then picked them up by the back end with one hand. As if changing his mind, he sat them on the second step to the stairwell going up and headed into the first-floor bathroom.
The son peeled off his own jacket, belt and shoes like they were binds of confinement. Carrying them in his arms he bolted upstairs in urgency. Perhaps he also required use of the restroom. His suit matched his father’s, except that he did not wear a tie. The boy’s feet thumped heavily on the stairs as if each step had a bug that desperately needed to be squashed.
The little girl, Jenny, headed to the kitchen with her mother without even removing her heels. No doubt, she felt comfortable in the clothing they donned for worship. Her dress was very bright and flowery, resembling the young lady’s expression. White heels and a slender white watch completed her ensemble. She did not appear to wear any other jewelry. When her shoes found the tile floor of the kitchen they made gentle, calculated taps. Her gait was much more controlled and precise, as opposed to her brother’s.
The mother’s dress was a modest shade of yellow and blue, with some red buttons and trim. The long hair had been pinned up for church, but dropped softly on her back as she released it. She began discussing with Jenny what needed to be acquired from the refrigerator to prepare the lunch. They planned to eat sandwiches as their hunger would not patiently await a full cooked meal.
Sarah did not seem to care much about her clothes at all. Or about lunch, or even using the bathroom. From the very instant that the she stepped into the house, she was fixated on one thing only. Swift. Static as her kindred went about their business, she stood petrified in her simple black dress and flat leather shoes. Her eyes were wide and mouth agape as she stared right at him. He was certain that he had not revealed his presence, but somehow, she knew he was there. A frigid chill ran through him, like ice water dripping down his spine. At least it was what he imagined a physical chill would be. As a spirit creature, he had no real concept of cold, although he had seen the effect on humans thousands of times.
Swift’s first instinct was to flee from the home in fear, yet he hesitated to see what the girl would do. After all, his job was to investigate this family. Flying away just as things got serious would be no way to earn this assignment. Was Sarah about to alert her family to his presence? Would they believe her if she did? The rest of them obviously did not notice him at all. He could not fathom how the girl could even see him. Though he had heard of such humans existing, never once had he experienced such a seer in all his centuries of life.
Without a physical body to view, Sarah shouldn’t be able to actually see him. It would, however, be possible for her to see the effects of any energy he used to manipulate the material world, such as moving or knocking over objects. But he had done nothing of that sort. It wasn’t conceivable for his mere presence to do it. It wasn’t like he was a breeze that blew through. No, he existed on another plane that was inaccessible to humans. Yet there the girl stood paralyzed, her eyes piercing right into him.
Sarah eventually recovered from her initial fright. Glancing about the home where her family members had went Swift realized the girl was concerned for their lives. She considered him a threat. That was never something that he ever wanted to be to humans. People were his entire world, his reason for living. He was pained by the notion that he was viewed as a villain. He must withdraw.
Sarah refocused on him once again just before he left, and mouthed the words, "What do you want?"
Swift panicked and dashed out the back of the house, right through the dining room wall. He had never experienced such a fright in all his life. He must force himself to regain his composure before meeting up with his supervisor, and remember the other things he had discovered about the family. Now the father's job and the little girl's religious beliefs seemed pedestrian. It would be Sarah that drew the interest of the league and warranted him to be assigned to this reconnaissance mission.
This unique, spirit seeing girl would be the target of the next mission. Swift was not sure if he was willing to take that assignment, assuming that it would even be offered to him. If she could see him, and speak to him, was it also possible for her to hurt him? Did she have access to the spirit realm, and the ability to cross over? He had no idea. This was all new territory to Swift. Despite the fear that encompassed him Swift wanted to know the answers to these questions.
CHAPTER TWO: SARAH
Sarah surprised herself that day. It was not the first time that she had encountered one of those creatures. It would not likely be the last. Though she had not anticipated the supernatural presence it did not rattle her like most of their previous visits did. A much different vibe emitted from this creature, she concluded. There was an intense interest in her and her family, but a lack of the expected hostility as far as she could tell. That was unusual.
Truth be known, she had not actually experienced that many so called "visits." Perhaps a dozen by her counting. And a large share of them were not noticeably aware that she felt their presence. Additionally, there were plenty more occasions when she was able to sense that one of them was nearby, though she could not see them with her human vision.
Conceivably it was not her human eyes that could see them to begin with. After all, they were undoubtedly invisible to all other humans. It was the creatures’ auras that she witnessed, as well as perceived mentally. They all had the distinctive atmosphere surrounding them, just like the live people she knew and encountered. Only theirs were larger, and sometimes brighter. However, it was the absence of a material body in the center of the light that most marked them as different.
This possibly benevolent spirit had a sky-blue aura with an unusually sharp outline. It was the first time she had seen that particular color in a spirit. Also, human auras clung to their bodies, holding humanoid shape as if they were emitted from the skin. Those of the pure energy beings held no constant shape, based on her limited perception, but instead tended to be primarily spherical. The majority of the beings she had encountered so far were red, gray, or yellow, and unanimously without a distinct edge. The perimeter of their representations merely faded into the air. But that was not the case this last one. She had no idea why. Perhaps these things were as different as people were, or maybe even as varied as the animals.
Attempting to communicate with the otherworldly being is what had surprised herself. Never before would she had considered such a thing. Fortunately, the spirit withdrew from the house immediately instead of attacking or haunting her. She assumed that was still a possibility, despite its benign
stature. The worst she had witnessed so far was disturbing horrific images, like monstrous ghosts in a movie. The ferocious forms haunted her mind, occasionally until the point that she felt compelled to sketch them in her notebook. It provided her little relief, though.
Until recently Sarah assumed that all of these unknown creatures were ghosts. She imagined herself as a potential ghost whisperer and wondered if she might become famous for it. It was not a desirable concept for her. First, she would have to get over her crippling fear of them. That might be easier now than she previously thought. Then she would need to determine how to communicate with them. Human speech had not been an effective method based on the most recent encounter. Though Latin might be more effective than English, she wondered. Lastly, she would need to learn how to help them. No, doing the bidding of angry dead people did not appeal to her in the least.
It all seemed pure fantasy, honestly. Nothing she read on the topic was very helpful. Books would be either written from an obscure scientific point of view or in outlandish science fiction perspective. Articles online were much the same, except with all the ads and links it often took longer to realize you were getting nowhere. Frequently, someone would be attempting to prove the existence of ghosts by camera. In this day and age of special effects any low-resolution video footage had no leverage in converting non-believers. Sarah searched the accounts regardless, looking for some indication that the witnesses of said ghosts could see people’s auras. No such luck.
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