I imagined Lock detaching himself from me, linking with another soul once I was too ‘unclean,’ and vanishing from all his thoughts and memories. The longing in his eyes would be directed toward someone else as I moved on, dead and nothing to him… I quickly bit back a whimper. Dad was right about them….Selfish monsters.
Chapter Eleven:
The world changed around us as we entered the hollow black mouths of the subway tunnels and further into the zone area A1. By now, we were anything but alone, having to push other riders’ lazy shoulders as they leaned against us. Lock looked uncomfortable with the restricted space, pressing and moulding himself far into the wall of the train. The man next to him was so engrossed in his newspaper that he didn’t notice the white knuckles of Lock’s straining hands, trying to hold himself up and away from the edge of the seat.
I gazed around, my attention shifting when I came past the most peculiar man a few seats down. He was standing completely upright between a business woman and a seven year old girl, who was intensely interested in her own fingernails. He seemed to be standing in the one area that the light failed to touch.
His eyes jumped to mine in a snapping reflex, knowing that I was looking at him. Across his eyes was the unmistakable ash mark of a Banished spirit. I felt my stomach coil in foreboding. There’s just no escaping them. They really are everywhere. His lips flexed underneath his nose and stretched into a crooked smile, revealing the cluster of awkward yellow stones crookedly dotting his bed of gums. But what caught me most off guard were his eyes; glittering gems of sickly paste grey, twitching and devouring me with each passing second that I looked at him.
I scanned quickly across the carriage but no one else seemed to notice the man and his ghastly expression; which only further confirmed my suspicions of him not being human. How many times had Banished spirits actually passed me by, too, before I had any knowledge of their existence? The tattered shirt he wore was dark brown and open down to the middle of his chest where a deep, dried stab wound was carved along his rib cage.
He followed my eyes and chuckled, mocking me and running his velvet tongue across his busted lower lip. He was the ugliest Banished soul I had ever seen; everything about him screamed monster. His broken hooked nose, the downward tilt of his eyes, the torn skin across his arms, and the thick, stringy black hair that sat like tiny ropes upon his shoulders. Even with his obvious defects, I still felt compelled to look at him in an almost offended manner.
I went to reach for Lock but the Spirit held up his hand to stop me. He pointed a finger straight upwards, curling it towards himself, beckoning me to him as I sat squirming in my seat.
Maybe I should go to him, just to see what he wants to say, he might be able to help us out. We needed some more information, right? I should go; I really should go to him. And I shouldn’t tell Lock either, it wasn’t necessary to wake him up from his daydreaming. I’ll just slip out of the seat as silently as I can and leave, maybe even walk out of the train. Lock doesn’t need me- I shook my head as a spasm of cold flooded my cheeks. Lock had my face cupped between his hands, staring with tight and intense concentration. He was only sparing an inch between my nose and his, his eyes so much prettier than those other grey, dead hues that I lost all thought of abandoning him.
“Careful Rach, don’t stare at him.” The people sitting next to us recoiled from our sudden closeness, confused by Lock who had seated himself up on my lap and was forcing his head down on top of mine. My breath got caught up in my throat as I folded my lips back into my mouth.
“Okay.”
Lock lingered for a moment longer, not breaking the connection he had with me till he felt sure I wasn’t going to do a runner. He slipped back into his own chair, fold his arms over his chest and resumed his intense staring, watching my eyes. He then shifted and shot a look over his shoulder, which I followed back to the face of the other Banished soul who was evidently laughing privately to himself. He blinked at Lock once before looking back to me. Then slowly he lifted his wretched bone white hand, easing it down onto the shoulder of the little girl standing next to him. To my horror, she tensed at his advancement and glanced up, her neck tilting away as if cowering from a slap.
“We should get off the train,” Lock insisted, shooting up from his seat.
“Can’t we do anything?” I asked in hoarse desperation but Lock shook his head, intertwined his fingers with the folds of my sleeve and ushered me out the doorway furthest from the pair. I couldn’t stop myself from looking back, hoping that my eyes were deceiving me. The little girl tossed a worried look at her mother and reached out to touch her elbow, only to get her hand knocked away. The spirit continued laughing as the yellow lights in the carriage flickered. The doors opened with a jolt and I was yanked out.
Lock kept pulling me forwards, not giving me a chance to call out. I wanted to tear the girl away from the spirit’s filthy hands. The passengers getting on the train glanced at us wearily, leaning away.
It didn’t take long before a rapid ringing signalled the closing of the doors before the train crawled onward, the constant humming of the exiting crowd drowning out the sound of its engine building speed as it moved off into the distance. Lock spun me around behind a corner and out of sight. I craned my head back to the train but Lock rested his palm against my cheek, forcibly turning me to look at him again, his eyes sinking into my very thoughts.
“Rachael you have to understand…” His voice was controlled and domineering, cutting off my useless stutters. “He isn’t going to harm her, remember, the Host is the most important thing to a Banished soul-”
“But...but!” I started to protest as he glided his hand across my cheek and placed the flat print of his thumb over my lips, now physically holding my mouth shut. But, he IS hurting her! I protested inside my head, He’s killing her!
“You’re probably not going to like this, but it’s actually children who are targeted for Host pairings most of the time. The first drive for spirits is to get to the closest Host they can smell, but once we’re secured, we can then sniff out any surrounding Hosts that are better equipped for our needs. Children smell the best because they have the longest to live…” My whole mouth became parched as my escaping breath heated Lock’s thumb. Noticing it, he dropped his hand immediately.
“But she... she’s just a little girl…”
Everything felt heavy suddenly, the weight in my chest pulling so hard that it felt as though invisible strings were connected to the corners of my lips, stretching them down with every heartbeat. I could feel the pressure tighten all through my face and neck, my heart pounding furiously, nearly pumping tears into my eyes.
“I never said Banished souls were the good guys,” Lock whispered. “What did you expect us to be? Do you remember about the sin we committed? The Banished souls aren’t good people, we’ve done bad things, yet we’re selfish enough to not want to be punished for it.”
“But you’re not bad,” I mumbled back.
“I’m no different to what he is, Rachael. There’s a reason why we’re both Banished…”
I lowered my head; there wasn’t much I could say to that. How do I know he wasn’t like that man? Good looks do not count as free passes to becoming good people.
“And another thing,” he huffed as if he had just remembered something that made him intensely mad, “you have to be extra careful around other Banished spirits, they are dangerous. That bastard on the train, he was influencing you, I could tell.”
“Influencing me?”
“Yeah, it’s a known fact that you shouldn’t trust a Banished spirit, to not even look at one, because we can tamper with your very thoughts. If we can get eye contact, we make your decisions for you and have you convinced you made them yourself. It takes a lot of spirit power to do it, so not many Banished like taking the risk of losing their Host. That man on the train did it to you; I bet he was instructing you to leave me.” My head hung shamefully. “Only one other person outside of the Banishe
d curse can pull this trick off, and I’m positive that’s why he’s an outcast from the rest of the Hunters…”
Hunters…I already knew the name before Lock whispered it, “Gargoyle”. The frown overpowered my lips before I could stop it. I thought back to my first encounter with Gargoyle and realised the truth about my sudden urge to ‘trust’ him, he was putting his own words inside my head. That’s why he was trying so hard to get eye contact. A shiver ran through me; the thought of how vulnerable I was, how vulnerable everyone was, at being made into a puppet was disturbing. Free will was a luxury of the past, or maybe a luxury we never really had.
“We should get going.”
I led the way out of the train station, Lock lingering about half a metre behind me. It was dark outside but light still controlled the streets, the harsh yellow illumination of every street lamp and shop burning through the windows and onto the footpaths. Lock hid himself behind his jumper’s hood.
The apartment wasn’t far. Even with my eagerness making time go slower, I was soon punching the key into the door lock and shuffling myself, my load of luggage and Lock inside. It felt so good to be inside a familiar building once more, even if it was just the tiny foyer that smelled of dry plaster. Only five steps into the building was a pair of elevators to the left, their doors waiting patiently open as the overhead light flickered. The engine churned as we tiptoed in.
I caught sight of myself in the opposite mirror. My skin was pasty and my hair hung like dried spaghetti down my neck. Lock didn’t look all that flash either, his eyes were dark to the point where he looked sleep deprived underneath the hood and his lips were curved into a permanent frown. He still looked different from me, even in his human body. The only feature we did share was that we were human; well, human-looking that is, I wasn’t dead. Yet.
Chapter Twelve:
My apartment was number 14 on the third level, just a tad past the middle of the hallway. When I opened the door I inhaled deep, long breaths of the city smell, a combination of smoke, Chinese food, and a faint whiff of gasoline. Well, okay, maybe the smell wasn’t a match to the Whitehaven’s fresh, woody aroma, but the sightseeing here had no equal. I dropped my bag in the kitchen and climbed over the top of the couch, leaning over to pull the curtain back from the window. The neon lights from the take away store hummed as I watched the tiny people pick at their food, some on dates, some with family, yet most of them were seated alone. There was no moon here, there was little sky, too, as the body of the buildings stood in front, allowing only small patches of dreary blackness to be exposed. No stars either...I pulled the curtains shut, a little disappointed and turned towards the house phone, unhooking the handle and dialling in the Mum’s mobile.
“Yes, hello?”
“Hi Mum…”
“Oh good, you made it safely,” Mum mumbled in the same exhaling breath as her yawn.
“Yeah, everything‘s fine and the place is exactly the same way as we left it,” I inspected the room once more and sighed, “but I’m really tired now so I’m just gonna go to bed.”
“Oh, that’s fine dear, but before you go,” Mum shouted as I held the ear piece firmer into my ear, “A young man had dropped by about two hours ago and was asking for you…” The silence burned as Mum waited. A young man was asking for me? My mind instantly shot to Gargoyle. He was back on the hunt for Lock and it must’ve been simple for him to gain the information he needed to track us down even without using his ability of mind control, Mum was a sucker for pretty boys.
“What... What did you tell him?” I struggled to keep my voice both calm and level to keep Mum from becoming suspicious. I was given freedom without so much as a blink, but it can be taken away just as fast, too.
“Oh, well, I just said you had to go back to home for a bit, just to check up on a friend.”
“Really? Was that all?” That wasn’t enough information right? That isn’t going to expose us…
“Umm, yes I think so… How do you know him anyway, Rach? You’re making quite a lot of friends up here.” Friends? Hardly!
I cleared my throat and laughed, “Oh well, they’re all really nice in Whitehaven…”
“Hmm...” Mum’s tone lowered, “Just be careful okay, that boy didn’t seem quite… right.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t want to be rude or anything, but he wasn’t the liveliest bloke I’ve ever met. Nothing like that young boy you had over before.” I groaned out of embarrassment and I could hear her huffing out a small laugh. I was just glad Lock couldn’t hear.
“Well, sorry to disappoint you,” I joked back. Was it Gargoyle who visited? She wouldn’t be bagging my taste in friends if it was…then who… “Did you happen to catch a name or anything from him?”
There was a moment of pause before her answer, “Err, no not really. He had brownish hair, looked to be in his 20’s which, quite frankly young lady, is a bit too old of a crowd for you.”
“Wait…He didn’t have red hair?”
“Red hair? No…” So it wasn’t Gargoyle! I felt the tenseness in my shoulders slowly easing away.
“Thanks Mum!” Feeling soft pokes on my back, I turned towards Lock who was flicking elastic bands at me. I swatted them away and hissed at him as he poked his tongue out at my seriousness. Old lady, I bet that’s what he was thinking. “I’m going to bed now, night Mum.”
“Oh, okay Rach, good night. Call me later okay? Love you!”
“Yeah, okay. Love you too,” I felt my cheeks flushing as Lock aped an over exaggerated kissing face. I hung up the phone, turning back to him.
“Hey Lock, do you… umm, do you sleep?”
“Nah, don’t need to. You can rest and I’ll just hang out here.” He continued to flick elastic bands around the kitchen.
“Well, you can watch some TV then.”
I led him to the couch and clicked on the TV. He smiled weakly and watched as I went to my bedroom door, where I shot him a grin over my shoulder just at the same moment as he got tangled trying to get the hoodie off over his head.
“Good night Lock, I’ll see you in the morning,” I called before a muffled, ‘Kay’ hallooed back through the fabric.
I climbed into bed and didn’t fight sleep as it consumed me before abruptly spitting me back out at the first touch of daylight. I was caught off guard when I walked into the kitchen; nearly trotting on top of all Mum’s novels which were scattered across the floor. If I hadn’t known any better I would’ve thought a printer exploded.
“Finally, you’re up!” Lock’s voice rang like bells as he appeared around the corner from the kitchen.
“Lock, what’s all this?” I motioned to the mess.
“I’ve been researching.”
“Researching… for the Staff?” And using Mum’s romantic novels too?
“Yeah! Where would hunters hide a holy weapon? In a holy place. We’re going check out some churches…its perfect!” He cheered, letting the sheets he held slip through his fingers and fluttering to the floor, “Can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.”
“Guess it’s worth a try.”
We were lucky that there wasn’t much sun out today for the clouds were now uniting together and filling their bellies with the promise of rain. We jumped onto the tram and started crawling up north. There were a few churches located on the outskirts and in the heart of the city. Maybe Lock was right; if the spirits of Heaven were to hide something precious, why not put it in a church? That’s assuming that the Staff is even an earthy object or actually exists at all. But I had made a promise to Betrayal… I wouldn’t let Lock give up hope. The walk took us about twenty minutes from the tram stop, a whole twenty minutes of which Lock and I didn’t whisper a single word to each other. I would turn to talk to him but his eyes were always distracted, darting into the sky, the tree tops, and the buildings before then resting on his feet.
“Hey! We’re here…” The Church looked out of place, nestled between a busy intersectio
n and a Chucky Cheese restaurant. The fences surrounding the property were thin black arrow-headed bars, criss-crossed to stop intruders from breaking in after hours and appeared a little daunting, looking like a cage.
Inside was just like any other church, the roof was high and arched to a point in the centre and rows of wooden seats faced a long table with a white linen sheet tossed over the top. A single candle sat unlit and half dried up, the puddle of its own waxy body at the base of the candle bowl. Above my head were pairs of colourful stained glassed windows, carefully printed with the faces of saints. An old priest greeted us with a small bow of his head, his face was warm yet his smile was not, matching the same bleak colour as his black suit. I smiled back, however, Lock did nothing but glare down at his feet, biting his tongue as I watched the muscles of his jaw clench and flex under the strain.
“Hello, can I be of any help?”
“Sorry to intrude, we’re just having a quick look…” I quickly explained. The priest turned his attention to Lock and instantly tightened his shoulders.
“Yes well, if you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask,” his tone lowered suspiciously.
I gulped and could feel the tension in the air slide down my throat and soak into my lungs. Did the Priest perhaps know what Lock was? Regardless, the Priest turned his back on us and returned to the tables.
The halls were quiet except for the active bustle of the city behind the fences and the birds sitting on the sills, grooming beneath their wings and into the buff pillows of their chest. It was easy to hear Lock hawk deeply from his throat and spit onto the ground, so I quickly knocked into his shoulder warningly. With an uncaring shrug, he looked away and continued to walk forward, spitting again.
“Hey, cut it out. Do you want us to get kicked out?”
“Maybe this was a bad idea after all,” he whispered back, inspecting the stares bearing down on him from the glass pictures with a combination of fear and urgency. The Priest lingered for a few moments, watching us out of the corner of his eye; most of his attention on Lock who didn’t help the situation by snarling when I held the Bible open. He was soon pulled away by a distant phone call, and taking our chance, we immediately started opening and closing cabinets in a frenzied rush.
My Demonic Ghost: Banished Spirits Page 9