My Demonic Ghost: Banished Spirits

by Maree, Jacinta

  “No wait. Please, I don’t know what I’m doing. Please tell me what to do...”

  “Then just ask.” I jumped, startled, and glanced over my shoulder. Lock pulled himself up, rubbing at his forehead. He looked uninjured and I couldn’t stop myself from sighing. There was no doubt in my mind that they were related, despite different colour of their iris, they both held the beauty and danger of a dark and powerful spirit.

  “Are you okay?” I questioned.

  “Yeah. I’ve been better, though.”

  “I’m really sorry that I... that I did that... I didn’t know. Please don’t hurt me,” I mumbled.

  Lock didn’t say anything; he merely stared up at me through his fringe, his large green eyes dilated underneath the darkness of the shade.

  “It’s okay...I’m not going to hurt you.” He stood up gradually. I stood as well, facing Lock as he glanced off to the side, his head passing my shoulders.

  “I, err...” I started but fell silent.

  “I’m not usually that weak you know!” he grumbled with his dark defensive charm, his once full moon eyes sharpened into that penetrating glare.

  “Weak? That wasn’t weak, Lock...”

  “Don’t, just... It caught me by surprise. And I ... I wasn’t prepared but next time I won’t lose.” He quickly fell quiet, tilting his head up and noticing the soft grin across my face, he too exhaled deeply. “I have to... do something. I’ll be back in a little while,” he whispered before fading into smoke, his body breaking away into ashes that vanished with the lift of the wind. I watched him leave before I, too, took a step backwards.

  I entered the streets, disorientated, before making my escape back to the house. I wasn’t sure how, but I sensed a dark weight, probably Lock, lingering and watching in the leaves above. Well, I prayed it was Lock and not another monster following me home.

  Chapter Six:

  I felt so tired. I dragged myself inside the house and collapsed, hearing the door slam and click shut, ultimately closing me off from the world. Leaning against the wall, I slid onto my rear, lifting my hand and lightly patting my stinging cheek. The pain ran underneath the skin and spun in a loop around the gash. I pulled myself back up and glanced into a mirror, inspecting the wound.

  Quickly entering the kitchen, I and ran a cloth under the tap, letting the rusty brown water clear out first before dampening the material and nestling it against my cheek. The cold water numbed my jaw but caused a riot of nerve spasms across the wound, the cut being long and narrow, framed by smaller grazes from the branch that whipped me. I was glad that there was no swelling but worried about how I was going to explain this to Mum... I walked into a tree branch... Yeah, that’s believable.

  Sitting myself down, my head rolled onto my shoulder in demand for rest. My eyes closed and my mouth dangled open, sleeping soundly. By the time I peeled my eyes open again the wet cloth against my cheek had fallen onto my lap, leaving a small patch of dampness on my clothes and a small trail of crust left at the corner of my mouth. Gross… I’d been drooling.

  “Oh, sorry honey, did I wake you?” Mum was busy dusting the furniture by my feet, the light touches of the feathers being the cause of my awakening.

  “Mum?” I mumbled half drowsily, “Oh... where have you been?”

  “Just talking to the neighbours dear,” Mum reassured and motioned her head to outside. The table had already been set out for lunch; ordinary sandwiches with butter and jam.

  “Has Dad’s funeral date been set yet?”

  “Oh, yes well, I did call up the funeral home and they can have us organised in about a month…”

  “A month?” I leapt up from my seat as if I’d been jabbed with a hot poker.

  It was hard to think of me having to deal with Lock’s messy and disturbed world for even a week, but this was going to keep going and going for longer than a month, and probably even longer than that. He’ll follow me around until he kills me, and even before that, how long can my sanity handle it? When will I crack under the pressure? I was even starting to believe that insanity would be the best option, at least then I wouldn’t have to fear it anymore.

  “Funerals are very tricky businesses. You have a lot of organising and preparing to do, and we have to arrange for all of the family to get time off work and school to visit, so it may even be longer than a month.” Mum had her back turned and fidgeting with the plates. I yanked at my fringe, rubbing forcibly at my temples with the tips of my fingers. I was going to have to do something about this, something my father hadn’t done.

  “Ah, Rachael! What happened to your face?”

  “I walked into a tree branch.”

  It was night time. The darkness pouring down over the land in a heavy rush of icy wafts, a storm followed the moon’s radiance as it swept across the sky and covered up the stars. Death. It’s ironic how I never recognised it before as a living thing, where now it follows me like my own shadow; always following carefully. But now it had a face and a name, I called it Lock.

  “Lock?” There was no reply. I cupped my hands around my mouth once more and shouted as loud as I could. The storm growled at me in return with loud thunderous claps which overpowered my straining voice, pushing it back into the ground.

  I wouldn’t have been able to do this any other night if it wasn’t for my fear of losing my courage. Even now, between each breath I started to question myself, my own rationality. I didn’t want to grow conscious of what I was searching for.

  I wondered for a moment, as I watched the sky, if he hated the moon as well. I pondered a lot of ideas that had to do with Lock; and not just about spirits, but also the reasons and secrets he held, things which are probably too personal and hurtful to open up to me about.

  There was a vibrant clash of lightning bolts as the sky struggled against the smothering darkness of the clouds. Even the moon was fighting for some surface as the swift puffy shapes collected together in larger packs.

  I ventured a far distance from any nearby houses, taking the path away from the main road and entering the secluded pits of the night jungle. Even so, as I beckoned Lock to me, I had my eyes on full alert watching out for any curious spies who might be following me. Lock enjoyed making me beg for him, I could faintly hear the breeze picking up his light chuckles.

  “Yeah, yeah, what do you want now?” That same smirking smile spread across his face as he reformed in front of me, his eyes so dilated and glistening that he took one step beyond handsome and actually became pretty. I would never tell him this of course; I would think he would just as quickly set a goon on me for that.

  “What took you so long? I’ve been calling for two hours?”

  “Master never answers Slave on command...” He beamed that rubbery grin again.

  “Well that’s the problem. Come with me; I want to talk to you.” I was more than that pleased that my voice didn’t shake as I beckoned him to follow and he swooped down beside me, staying in visible form as we crept towards a large abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. I knew about it from dad’s stories. The large tin walls and roof threw slaps of thunder back into the rumbling clouds. It was dark and sinister; the only light came from the flashes of lightning as it blazed across the sky. Finding the only patch of moonlight leaking in through the high windows, I walked towards the centre of the room as Lock buzzed above my head, dipping along the rafters and toying with the wisps of chains in his hands, his boyish laugh jumping around walls.

  “Alright Lock, can I talk seriously with you for a bit, please?” I tried my best to hold a firm stance, my voice echoing around the tin box, following his excited trail. Lock stopped sharply and lingered in the air with his arms crossed.

  “It’s really simple. Haven’t you been paying attention to the old man at all?” I bit my tongue, annoyed, but Lock continued on before I had the chance to reply. “Things in the Spirit World aren’t as you pictured them in your story books. It’s much more twisted, unfair and corrupt than you could ever imagine. Eve
n now, if it were standing right in front of you, you’d just shake your head and tune it out. People are all the same, just stupid and ignorant.”

  “Just try me; I’m a very open-minded person.”

  “I doubt that very much,” he sneered, “The Staff is a portal that will allow us to enter the Third Realm. That’s what we’re looking for.”

  “But you call yourself Banished. How did you become a Banished?” I interrupted.

  “The ones that kill themselves or have killed another become Banished.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. I didn’t have the courage to ask which sin he had committed, the suicide or the murder. “You see, there’s a lot of different spirits with different powers in the underworld. The most powerful call themselves the Royals. But there can only be one Royal in charge at a time, and the Royal can only stay as ruler with power, but to get power they need to have a source. Take, for example, what a tick may do to a dog; to stay alive and strong the tick must drain the dog of blood. Well, this is similar just on a much larger scale. The Royal needs to feed off us Banished souls for power, and to drain us we need to be destroyed in what is commonly called ‘hell’.”

  My jaw dropped open. But, not wanting to prove his earlier claims of me being closed minded I, wisely, didn’t argue. “But there is a loop hole, you see. There used to be only two Realms other than earth when you die. They are known by humans as Heaven and Hell, but because science had started to take control over the world and people started to question the existence of greater spirits, there was another portal opened for people of non-believers, and that is called the Third Realm. It is our task to find the Staff and get to this Realm before we’re captured.” He paused for a breath, taking a moment to choose his words carefully before continuing on. “I suppose that is where the Goons come in; they only show up when there is death and are responsible for bringing all Banished souls to their end. Even though they look dark and what some people may call ‘evil,’ they are not very smart and can be easily tricked; it’s the Hunters who are we need to avoid. They are of high rank, the ones closest to the Royals, and residing in Heaven where they use daylight to search for us. When they find us, they snap our chains and feed us to the Goons. Without sacrificing, there is no way the current Royal could remain in power and all balance will be overturned.”

  I paused for a moment, letting his words fully sink in before speaking in a soft whimpering breath, “I’m sorry but I need to know...where do I come in?”

  Lock’s face remained neutral as if I were speaking to a stone wall, “You... like your father, are called the Host. We use you to hide. Goons patrol the Spirit World and Hunters patrol the light, so we have to hide here on earth where we don’t belong. Yet a Host’s soul can only last for so long, after a period of time the soul is completely drained and therefore the Host dies, leaving us exposed all over again until we find a new one.”

  “What happens to the Host’s soul?” I leaned forward eagerly.

  “You just die. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “But where do we go, Heaven, Hell or the Third Realm? Come on you have to know the answer.” Lock was silent for he didn’t know the answer, he just bowed his head. My thoughts shot directly to my dad who was now lost in the Realm of Spirits. It was scary, but I honestly hadn’t really thought about what really caused my father’s death. For if he had taken his own life, and I knew by his history that he had tried, it meant there’s a good chance he has already been swallowed into Hell for fuel. Or maybe he’s running around now, a Banished spirit like Lock.

  I felt my face grow tense.

  “My dad, how did he die, I mean... was it really you that... killed him?” It may have sounded insensitive but I honestly hoped that it was Lock who killed him, only because then George couldn’t have been accused of killing himself. He would be safe, residing in peace with the rest of the saved souls. Lock cleared his throat as I held my breath, waiting for his slight nod. But he didn’t. He didn’t as much as look at me and turned his attention to the holes in his clothes.

  “Lock? Lock, please, answer me...”

  “I didn’t do it!” he barked with the roar of thunder behind him. Throat closing, the silence suddenly slapped me hard in the face. These words, these lies were too much for me to handle. I couldn’t breathe.

  “What- what do you mean you... you must’ve done it! He killed himself? Oh no... Is he a Banished soul now just like-?”

  “He’s not like me at all. He didn’t kill himself.” My shoulders fell with the weight of a ton of bricks dropping on top of them. Lock continued on, “It was you that killed him.”

  “What?!?” my voice bounced high.

  “He tricked you, stupid. That ‘medicine’ as he called it, was not medicine at all, so what you actually poured into his tea cup was poison...”

  There was a pause, a painfully long pause, as if I was underneath the water, drowning, waiting for my vision to go black.

  “When a Banished soul dies the Goons take them to eternal damnation. Most Banished souls can’t even master levitating let alone Host Binding, and barely survive their first Goon encounter. Of course when the Banished spirit isn’t collected, the Goons report to the Hunters and so that’s when they get involved. Hunters are fast, giving us only a matter of seconds, 15 seconds tops to move from soul to soul... I just couldn’t risk letting him go. So I controlled him, like I controlled you in the hallway. I stopped him every time he tried to kill himself... but I couldn’t stop you from killing him. I had no hold on you so... that’s why...”

  “But, I didn’t really mean to kill him... I ... the Royals have to understand that, right?” Lock just shrugged his shoulders uncaringly.

  “All they see is one soul killing another.”

  This couldn’t possibly be happening! My trembling hands cupped my cheeks and shook my head, No, this can’t be true. Lock stepped closer to me, cautiously, as he lifted his hand and gently touched my shoulder. His fingers fell through my arm before he tightened his knuckles and tilted his face down.

  “It’s not that terrible. If you know what you are doing, you can avoid the Goons for a while, I’ve lasted nearly three years on my own.” His unsure smile pulled between panic and relief as I watched. But I didn’t hear or see him; my body was reacting before my mind could respond.

  “I-I can’t! I can’t do this for the rest of eternity. My time on earth is running out and now, now that I know when I die I’ll become Banished, too!” There was no other way around this. I knew what I had to do, it was now or never. “Listen Lock, I’m going to help you get the Staff but ONLY if I’m in control.”

  Lock scoffed at me, “Why on earth would I do that?”

  “My first rule is you are NOT allowed to use my soul whenever you want. I want to expand my time here as long as I possibly can. That means no unnecessary magic or voodoo or whatever! Can you do that?”

  He laughed at the idea with a snort. I moved in so the distance between our faces narrowed. I was going to try and intimidate a doomed spirit. Smart.

  I slowed my racing heart and redirected my tone, “Really, it’s your choice but just think about it. All I ask for is equal partnership so my life line isn’t used up so quickly and in return, you get my full cooperation! If you don’t like it, fine, but if you thought my father was a tough Host,” my tongue swelled at the word host, struggling to spit it out, “then you’ve got a nasty little surprise coming. I will fight you until my bones break. I will scream and howl and cry for the attention of Goons and Hunters until I reach the point where they would need to stuff me into a straitjacket. I will happily bake myself in a desert just so you can’t hide in the shade-”

  “Alright, alright, I understand!” Lock cut me short and my chest fell in relief. He pinched the end of his chin and looked down in deliberation. “How do I know I can trust you, that you’ll keep your end of the deal?” It was a little strange. This dark, powerful and deadly spirit, worried about a mere human’s intentions; a human,
I might add, who is already in cuffs and poor in any basic athletic skills. As if it really mattered what my true intentions were; but still, I wasn’t lying.

  “Well, you were the one that chose me in the first place, and I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me, have I?” He thought about it for a moment longer and I could see the flickering of inner debate in his eyes.

  “Alright, fine, but you MUST, MUST help me. Promise?” He held his hand up, pinkie finger extended.

  “Yes of course, I promise.” I held my pinkie up delicately and positioned it beside his to seal the deal. I wasn’t sure what emotion showed my face. I had never been so scared and uncertain in my life, my hand shaking while I held it up next to Lock’s, and although his remained completely still I could see by the frantic look in his widened eyes that he was just as unsettled.

  Chapter Seven:

  Under the high ceilings of the abandoned warehouse, I stood in the middle where darkness shadowed my silhouette; my eyes moving from one corner to the next, no longer flinching at the thunder rolling overhead. With fluent twists of his wrists, a syrup of black water, thick and heavy, flowed from Lock’s fingertips and orbited around his hand. The dense, dark fluid broke into droplets before forming back into a steady stream, elongating its body out further and longer like stretching a rubber band. It danced inside his palm, grew until it spiralled around his fingers and arm, continuing smoothly around our bodies in a tight loop before stretching further beyond us and sinking into the ground. The dark liquid planted its self like ink onto the concrete floor in a twist of vines and crosses. Soon, a symbol I’d never seen before had been painted flawlessly by our feet.

  I stumbled and edged around the free floating drops, side-stepping as they fell to the floor in deliberate and perfect formation.

  “Wait-Wait!” I was getting cold feet, quite literally, as the temperature dropped and my breath became visible in misty puffs, all this magic and voodoo trickery becoming too real and daunting. I didn’t want to back down, I really didn’t, but my inner voice was screaming frantically at me, ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??’And I knew better than to just drown that voice out. “I have to ask, will anything happen to me?? If we go through with this I mean?” Lock shook his head so delicately that not even his bangs moved.