My Demonic Ghost: Banished Spirits

by Maree, Jacinta

  “What are you smiling about?” Lock whispered. George’s smile grew. “Answer me!”

  A cough erupted from George’s chest and through his wrinkled lips, loud enough that Lock flinched backwards. His breathing was rapid and uncontrolled, barely able to inhale any oxygen into his lungs. As George jerked forward, a small vial was shaken loose from his grip and rolled slowly into his lap. Lock peered at it, his eyes straining, for he was bothered by the small print and the long vocabulary. Yet he didn’t need to read the ingredients or the title to tell that it was a fatal type of poison.

  “You- how? That’s impossible; I monitor your every move…” George heaved forward in his cough so that the delicate bottle was thrown from his lap and shattered into tiny pieces onto the ground.

  “It wasn’t me…. who slipped it…. into my drink…”

  Lock inhaled and clutched desperately at the chains that surrounded George’s limbs. But it was too late; the connection was fading along with George’s life. “You don’t get to devour my soul any more demon…. Now you can die… and perish… in hell where you belong.”

  “You bastard!” Snatching at the restraining collar, Lock started shook him violently until George flopped lifelessly in his grasp. Not a second afterwards, the boy started to slip further and further into the shadows of the room. The darkness was quick and silent, sweeping over him, sucking at his face as rotting wrinkles and decaying cracks scarred his perfect, translucent young skin.

  He fell into a heap on the ground, bent over and clutching at his chest.” No…. It’s happening again, it’s coming. I can’t go! I don’t want to be sent there.” Pushing himself upwards only to collapse once more, the youth could feel his own connection with this world slip between his fingers, for how was he supposed to survive on the surface without a Host to feed off? He was surely doomed, unable to move in search of another body as the wrinkles began to sink further and further into him, eating him slowly piece by piece.

  Chapter Three:

  A distinct crash alarmed me as I shot up from my book, my eyes droopy as the haze of the room spun around me. I had fallen asleep on top of my novel, the page sticky up against my cheek as I rubbed at my forehead. It took a moment to register what had happened before the sound of wheezing coughs alerted me to my dad. OH NO! I slipped and staggered to my feet, sprinting desperately for the door as I fell into it, yanked it open and galloped down the halls.

  “Dad? Dad??” I shouted as my voice broke under the strain; beating my feet against the carpet as I clawed at the walls, trying to spring myself forward to get to him faster. I cursed myself now for my lack of athletic ability. By the time I had reached the top of the stairs the coughing had stopped and was replaced by the groans of pain and heavy breathing.

  I couldn’t control my hands or my feet; just felt them slapping the ground as I hit each step. I reached out for the railings but didn’t have time to grasp, moving quickly onto the next step before I even realized I was trying to grab for support. I felt a pain shoot through my toes as I tripped on the last step; just at the same moment I faintly saw a dark shadowy blur instinctively jerk upwards and spring to the rafters. My mind was elsewhere and I forgot it instantly as I fell to my knees in front of dad; grabbing his hand, I was able to feel the temperature drop in his body.

  “Dad? No please, don’t die Dad. Please? Don’t leave me…” No matter how much I screamed he didn’t respond, inside I knew, no matter how hard I shrieked or how long I waited, he wasn’t going to wake up, and after letting the tears pour from my eyes, I finally got to look at the peaceful smile he left on his face. With a racing heart that felt like I could vomit at any second, I bit back my tears and let my hands drop.

  “Oh dad.… I’m so sorry-”

  BAM.

  A body crashed onto the ground right beside me as I shrieked and recoiled. Instantly I kicked myself away from the carcass, frantically as though I was swimming poorly in a back stroke. The thing lay unconscious with its face down, fingers twitching subtly as wisps of soft black smoke fizzled off it in long spaghetti strands. I was frightened and tense, sitting at least 3 metres away from it, watching the body heave and struggle for breath under its own weight. If there was any time for my heart to beat its self into a heart attack, now would be the moment. My lips were quivering, fingers shaking, and my eyes were clouded with tears. The foreign animal was spread out and squirming on its stomach, covered in a blanket of clothes and a mane of black on top of its head. And how on earth was it hiding in the rafters for so long? This house really did harvest monsters!

  “Oh… oh God.” The strange form started making more sense, the slender shoulders turned towards me, the ruffled hair, the tattered uniform and the trembling back that quivered with each breath. This wasn’t a strange animal at all, it was a boy. I felt stupid for not realizing it sooner and I crawled quickly towards the body. The necessary questions of who was he, why was he here, is he dangerous, is he dead just didn’t seem to be of any importance. But before I could place a hand on him, he flicked his head up and startled me into drawing back.

  “Are you okay?” His face was hollowed in with deep, black wrinkles. He looked up wearily and watched me, unable to speak as if his lips were too dry. His eyes were large and green, a fearful look in them. My frantic mumblings appeared completely lost on him, like white noise falling from my lips. I felt utterly hopeless and it made me sick to my stomach.

  “What happened? How can I help, what should I do? Where's the phone? Water? Do you need water? ”

  The walls around me spun, faster and faster as the world tilted and knocked everything to the left.

  He kept his eyes on me, unfocussed and distant but still glued onto my swaying head, his lips trembling. As more time faded, so too did the smoke around his body start to thicken. Neither of us was paying much attention to the other, my head ferociously turning as I searched for aid while he dragged himself closer to me, that same determined, dangerous, and monstrous greed burning in his gaze.

  Everything happened so quickly that I wasn’t sure how it happened at all. Just as I turned my head to face him, he numbly heaved himself onto my knees; and just as he fell forward in a state of exhaustion, I leaned in to check if he was alright. And in that spilt second he fell into me, unconsciously slipping his lips into perfect form upon my mouth. I froze immediately; not only was I caught off guard, but something beyond my understanding was starting to emerge. My entire body dipped downwards, my heart plunging into my stomach.

  A curl of smoke spiraled around me, around us both, and captured us into the eye of a miniature cyclone that thickened in both expanse and speed. The room vaporized around me, cutting off my vision so I was left in complete darkness, only able to feel a hand move to the back of my head, holding me in place as a pair of freezing lips captured mine. He was so cold.

  The dark vortex was so violent that it whipped my hair uncontrollably upwards and shook my entire body; like a dog thrashing a chew toy. I wanted to scream but he held me still, silently waiting to take me out, waiting for my head to knock into something hard. Yet despite the violent bouncing of my body, he stayed with me the entire time; the only difference being that he grew stronger, his hand became firm and his lips were no longer just sitting on mine but instead pushing in as if he was trying to take the very breath inside my lungs for himself. It all happened in a matter of seconds, I didn’t even get a chance to pull my hands up and push him off; once free, he lifted himself up, allowing me to crumble to the ground. Stunned, I lightly touched my mouth, still able to feel the cold sting he left behind.

  He was gone. The room was gone.

  I sat somewhere else, somewhere different. There was no fire place here, the couch had disappeared along with my father; the carpet was now wood as the room became alive with a soft glow of the setting sun. Messy stacks spread out in front of me and all across the walls of the room were mountains of boxes, old toys, clothes and forgotten furniture. The soft melody of a sweet piano accompanied
with violins and flutes could be heard playing nimbly. It was supple and slow, akin to the harmonious voices of a host of angels.

  I searched for it only to realize it was actually just a CD player, the song left on repeat. The air was thick and stuffy for no one had bothered to crack a window open, and the stench of damp wood filled my nostrils. I felt myself spring upwards onto my feet, twirling, and completing a full 360 degree turn. I was completely dumbfounded; unsure of where to go, or how I got here and what to do. I took two steps in each direction before stumbling back into the middle of the room. I spotted a closed wooden door sitting opposite me but before I even had a chance to run towards it, I was pulled back by a voice. A boy’s voice, crisp with youth.

  “Well, that was lucky.” Much to my relief and confusion, the young dying boy had completely restored himself. He watched with great powerful eyes that pierced me with his sharpened glare. His skin was full and smooth like cream. He was beautiful, dazzling beyond words as his face rolled towards me, knocking my breath hard from my chest.

  “Who… who are you?” I managed barely.

  The boy paused, looking me over.

  “I am Lock.”

  I was uneasy, studying him and waiting for him to continue. I was lost in a mixture of awe and desperation; something was terribly, terribly wrong.

  “How did we get here? Where are we??” I questioned in my best demanding voice.

  “Where we are doesn’t matter, for now you belong to me. That stupid man had…”

  “That man? You mean my father??”

  “Duh!” The boy snorted, “I can’t believe I am going to have to explain this all over again…”

  I grabbed at my chest, able to feel the heavy pounding of my heartbeat like feet stamping inside me. This boy was a ghost, the very thing my father had tried to convince the world that was controlling him, that this other Realm of good and evil spirits existed within arm’s reach. The room again began to spin and I felt the need to sit down and rest my head, guilt and shock slowly choking me. I hadn’t believed dad either…really how could I? It was an absurd idea that could only be connected with a psycho, by someone who was probably paranoid beyond recovery and was the type who sat with shot guns surrounding them, chanting under their breath that the end of the world is coming. But here he is, standing right in front of me and looking exactly just as my father described him. A demon in angel’s clothing. I tried to beat some sense into myself, but no matter how many times I closed my eyes and rattled my head, the boy didn’t fade into the couch with my father snoozing on it, nor did the attic around me morph back into the living room.

  “Listen here girl,” it growled, “this is the deal. Your soul now belongs to me. We need to find the Staff. Got it?”

  My soul? I grimaced and clutched my hands to my chest as if I could hide my soul within, thinking deeper back into what my father had once said. They’re using my soul as some sort of nourishment, like a battery! It’s the spirits; they’re taking away my life so they can stay on earth for longer. I swear it’s true; it turns out they’re looking for this instrument or something that will set them free. I’m not really sure though, it won’t explain properly. But I’m forced to help them; I don’t want to but they are controlling me. I don’t want to. I don’t want to…Selfish bastards….

  I blinked and swayed backwards, realization hitting me hard, now it’s going to happen to me. It may have been a selfish worry, dreading my father’s path with great panic; ending up crazy, alone, covered in dirt in a lonesome house. And his soul… his soul was taken by this creature.

  I was going to be like him, I was going to die like him...

  “No,” I bellowed, “No, you can’t, I won’t let you. You can’t kill me like you killed my father; I won’t let you use me.”

  The room whipped around me as I kicked backwards, reaching out for the door. My footsteps stampeded across the floor boards, the boards creaking under the strain as I listened, dreadfully cautious for footsteps following mine, chasing me down. Yet Lock did not move. He stood still in his spot, watching me as I played a game of tug of war with the door knob, only to have the door shudder in refusal. I peered over my shoulder as Lock lowered his head, watching with a sense of remorse and pity as I struggled for freedom.

  “You can’t escape, the door is locked… It’s always locked.” he whispered gently.

  “Let me out.”

  “I can’t.”

  “LET ME GO.”

  “I told you I can’t.”

  “LIAR! You’re lying to me.”

  “Shut up. You’re so annoying,” he snarled, “I don’t care if you like it or not but you’re stuck with me. We’re connected now and I need you to survive so deal with it, stupid!”

  I felt myself unsteadily obey and fall silent.

  “What are you exactly?” I lent myself flat up against the door; it was locked and wasn’t going to budge. Perhaps if this thing is civilized, I just may have a chance.

  “What am I?” Lock repeated, stepping forward as he pretended to stroke the flawless angle of his chin. “I’m not too sure, a gho… No, a deity I would call it, or perhaps even spirit lord would do.” He laughed sarcastically. My entire body shivered again and again at his chuckle, it was evil. He was evil.

  “I think monster or demon is better suited,” I instinctively spat. Lock growled under his breath and sharpened his stare that pricked me like a splinter. My eyes couldn’t stay on his for long or they would’ve surely liquefied.

  He somersaulted himself up off the ground and flipped into the air so quickly that I struggled to follow, leaving a trail of smoke behind him as he appeared in one loud bomb of ash and locked his arms around my shoulders. He didn’t weigh anything but I could feel his presence throttling me; his arms ringed around me with such strength that I couldn’t inhale a single breath. His face was too close. Way too close, so that I tried to look everywhere except the haunting green eyes boring into my face.

  Snarling, he laughed in triumph, “I’d rather you called me master!”

  The spiral of dark powder spun around me once more, swallowing me back into a coil of ash. The spirit chanted in a low demonic voice like hot whispers, stripping his melodious tone of any human or innocent resonance. He spoke in a dead language I couldn’t understand; except for only a few words that I caught which were in English, ‘death’ and ‘binding’.

  A set of heavy black chains materialised on me, locking onto my neck, both wrists and around my ankles. I was completely trapped, like a bound calf. Instantly I could feel the ice hands of death sweep over the room, seeping slowly through the chains that strangled me. I don’t know how I knew it was death; that this icy feeling just wasn’t a crack in the window. It was deeper, thicker and heavier than anything I’ve ever felt and went beyond the touch of skin. It attacked all senses ferociously. Fear poured down on me like a furrow of frost wind, making my entire body shake under its own weight, moving like I was embedded in a chilling shiver. I was consumed by the thought that Lock was prepared to slaughter me right here and now. Is this it? I am to be sacrificed? I had become numb from my finger tips to the points of my toes, just barely able to hear a light, swift chuckle as he floated above my head.

  “I’ll be watching.”

  I didn’t have time to fully absorb Lock’s warning as I was swallowed into the spiral of shadows momentarily and reappeared back into the dining room, sitting back by my father's feet. He was sitting facing me, with his eyes closed and a soft smile across his relaxed face; as though he was letting me know that everything will be alright. I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Wrapping my arms around his knees and burying my face into his legs, I let out painful sobs.

  I’m so sorry! Please, help me, what am I to do? Save me dad!

  A few hours had passed as I sat facing a stern older woman, wrapped in a blanket as paramedics hovered over my father. They checked his neck for a pulse and after a moment exchanged swift shakes of th
eir heads. They lifted his body upwards and lay him out across a trolley, pulling up white sheets until his head was completely covered. The layers fell against his body leaving an outline of his resting form.

  I sighed, tense, my fingers twitching and my mind racing a hundred miles a minute but not registering any thought at all. I could feel Lock’s cold presence lingering, watching me in the darkness and draining me with every passing second. It felt horrible. How long will I have to wait until I too go insane? And what about my mother, she would surely break down if she were to find out… I shuddered so hard that my entire body shook. I can’t do this to her.

  “Are you okay? Would you like a drink?” The older woman wrapped her arm around my shoulder as I broke out in shivers and shakes.

  “Did you know my dad?” I inquired.

  “No, I didn’t know him personally, but the hospital dealt with him on weekly basis. He was always so kind to all the nurses.”

  “You never saw anything abnormal? Like a young boy with him, around thirteen or fourteen?” I lowered my head, feeling the burn of the nurse’s stare harden.

  “What are you talking about? As far as I know, he was always alone. Preferred it that way too, I believe.”

  “Did he speak about bad spirits?” Glancing up so my sore red eyes could focus on her face, I stole a peek at the towering nurse, her once wrinkled smile pulled back into an uncomfortable frown, stubborn and intimidating like a principal ready to discipline a student. Her eyes were outlined by stress wrinkles, deep and burrowed into her pasty skin where soft, mousy hair poked out in patches underneath her nursing cap. Around her neck was the Crucifix.

  “Well-”

  “Never mind,” I quickly smiled and shrugged the question off, turning back to face my father, whose body was being wheeled out the front door and into the waiting ambulance.

  Everything around me seemed to slow in time. The ticking of the nurse’s watch became loud, and gradually, nothing but heavy thumps as the wheels of the trolley squeaked away. I could never explain this situation without sounding as insane and disturbed as my father. I can’t follow his path and try to rely on others. Otherwise it’ll be me next that’s being wheeled out underneath white bed sheets. To have the world look at you as if you’re crazy, to be an outcast in your own family, and used as a slave by supposedly fictional spirits… how that must’ve felt... To be so alone, ignored, and told over and over again that you’re a liar and that you’re crazy, could anyone do anything different than what he did? But at least I know what the demon wants; he wants me to help find some sort of Staff. But what is this Staff? Is it a weapon of some sort? Can he harm others with it? If I don’t do as he says, I’ll become a walking eighty-eight year old teenager. Should I help or shouldn’t I? Live by helping the bad or die by being good? It’s like being pushed into a war but ending up on the wrong side. On the losing side. What do you do then?