by Rani Clark
“I know you don’t want me to be touching you like this, but I have to. Now, close your eyes.” Mr. Ragnar reached up and put his hands on the side of Jaska’s head.
“Sir, I’m very uncomfortable.”
“I know. Just breathe. This is the only way to do things and I’m sorry about that. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Jaska nodded and did as he was instructed. As he took deep breath after deep breath he was suddenly aware how cold it was getting. His skin felt like ice as the minutes passed and he felt his heartbeat slowing. Rather than panic, he took in breath after breath until he felt his heart stop. It was an odd feeling, knowing he was still alive but not feeling his heartbeat. He opened his eyes to see the gray land again. Mads stood behind Mr. Ragnar who looked at peace with what was going on when all Jaska felt was uncertainty.
“The dead often don’t like chatterboxes,” the thing called Mads said.
“Jaska isn’t too talkative. At least to me,” Mr. Ragnar replied. “Well, Jaska. Shall we?”
“Shall we what?” His voice echoed for whatever reason. He looked around, “What am I meant to be doing?”
“Walking around. Getting the feel for things.”
Mads walked beside Mr. Ragnar, the two looking completely comfortable with each other. Jaska didn’t like the creepy thing. He walked beside his master silently, looking around at the gray atmosphere. It was a nice place. It was quiet and felt safe. He ran his fingers over leaves as he walked passed them. He wondered what it was like to be here all of them time. Were ghosts here all the time? Did he call them ghosts?
“He is quiet.”
Mads hissing voice brought him out of his thoughts. “What?” he asked, the two were looking at him.
Mr. Ragnar smiled, “Do you have questions? When I said quiet I didn’t mean completely.”
“Why are we walking?”
“You should learn to sense ghosts and speak to them. They’ll come up to you in due time. Relax.”
“Do you call them ghosts?”
“Yes.”
Jaska nodded and went back inside his head. His mother would be happy to hear he wasn’t depressed no matter if it was a lie or not. She didn’t need to know that he could barely breathe. She didn’t need to know that he cried every night until his head throbbed and his eyes were sticky. His depression would get better, he was sure. At least, he hoped it would. If not he supposed he should talk to Mr. Ragnar. This early he didn’t know if it was worth saying anything.
“Woah! Look out!”
The sudden voice made him stop. He looked up from the ground and into the face of a well-dressed man. By face he meant something of a face. It was a black hole. The man was wearing a hat and black gloves. Jaska stared at him, not sure what he was staring back. The man dipped his hat.
“Sorry. I wasn’t watching.”
“No, you weren’t. But hey, we’re all human. Well. Not all of us.” The man chuckled, “I’m not. I don’t think I ever was. Was I? I’ve honestly forgotten.”
“Uh . . . ok.”
“You don’t care, do you? Why should you?” From the sound of his voice, Jaska would have guessed he was smiling, “I’m sorry that I haven’t found you sooner, I’ve been indisposed for a bit. I am your Spirit Guide.”
Mr. Ragnar stared at the ghost, “Where in the hell have you been?”
“Indisposed. Anyway.” He took off his hat and bowed, “Monarch at your service.”
Jaska wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do or say. The man had a light and fun voice. “I’m Jaska Byrne.”
“I know. Good to meet you.”
The accent sounded Scottish. “What, exactly, are you?”
Monarch laughed, “Right to the point.”
“You said you weren’t human.”
“Very well. I’ll show you. Don’t scream though.”
Monarch took several steps back before he clicked his heels. Black and gray fire engulfed his body. The fire grew and elongated as a dark shadow took the place of the strange man. Jaska’s jaw dropped. The man wasn’t a man at all. A serpentine body moved gracefully through the air, the things head had a flat face, butterfly wings jutting out from its cheekbones. Spikes glinted in the shadows.
“Neat,” Jaska muttered. “Why do you take the human form?”
Monarch shrunk back into the man he had been, “It’s convenient. That form is difficult to maintain and I haven’t quite gotten the handle of it in the living world. It’s going to be so fun to work together.”
Mr. Ragnar exchanged looks with Mads, “Monarch, we’ve both heard of you. Jaska may not have, but we have. I don’t think I’m comfortable with you around Jaska.”
Monarch held his hands out, “To be fair I’m dead. I can’t exactly harm anyone if I’m dead now can I?”
“Yes, you can. Why did you get this job?”
“I don’t know. I think they thought it would be like it was with Leif. A few days and he was gone.”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Jaska asked. “Who is he?”
“Monarch was a serial killer. He murdered people and left Monarch butterflies at the scene of the crime. He stole their souls and sold them to demons for abilities.”
Jaska sighed, “He’s better than Mr. Kircher.”
“Elias Kircher? Oh yes, way better. I never molested anyone. I only killed people.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Mr. Ragnar looked to Mads, “Can he do this without a Spirit Guide?”
Mads shrugged, “I’m afraid not. Well, he can, but he will be at a severe disadvantage, you know that. Monarch may have been a serial killer in life, but in death he is only a memory. A powerful one, but a ghost none the less. I can keep an eye on him.”
Mr. Ragnar sighed heavily, “Very well. Monarch, as a necromancer of the highest order I will destroy your very essence if you hurt him in the slightest.”
Monarch nodded, “Understood. Very. I’ll leave you to explore the realm. It was nice meeting you Jaska, see you soon.”
Jaska watched him walk away, “Of course mine is a serial killer. He really left butterflies?”
“Yes. They were live butterflies so the cops didn’t catch on until about the fourth person he had killed. Butterflies in January is strange after all. Jaska, I’m very sorry. I never wanted this to happen.”
“It isn’t your fault, sir. You didn’t know this would happen.”
“He calls you sir,” Mads chuckled. “Adorable.”
“I think we’ll call it a day. See you later, Mads.”
Jaska took in a deep breath as he was taken from the grey world. He groaned and flexed his fingers, everything was numb. Mr. Ragnar helped him stand. Much to his discomfort, his master began to rub his arms and fingers.
“The sensation will return in a moment. I am incredibly sorry about what happened.”
“You can stop doing that.”
Mr. Ragnar nodded and released him, “Very well.”
Jaska stood on unsteady legs to get the feeling back into them. He glanced at Mr. Ragnar, “You like me?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You always tell people how quiet I am.”
“I’ve gone from one extreme to the other. Leif doesn’t shut his mouth, you hardly talk.”
“I would talk more. I’m not comfortable here. I cry myself to sleep and I’m incredibly . . . sad.”
Mr. Ragnar raised an eyebrow, “Feeling depressed?”
“All of the time. Every time I breathe it feels like I have a gaping hole inside my chest.” He began to cry, tears welling up in his eyes as he fought not to. “I just want to be alright and I won’t be.”
Mr. Ragnar didn’t touch him, he had been told not to. His master folded his arms across his chest, “You will be, I promise. I know you miss your family.”
“I hate you,” he said without much conviction. “You took me away.”
“I know.”
“It hurts.” Jaska leaned into him without meaning to, wan
ting to be embraced.
Mr. Ragnar obliged and did just that. He held him tightly, offering a strong presence for his shaking body. “It will be ok, I promise.”
“No, it won’t. I’m stuck here. Forever. With you.” He sobbed harder, “I want to go home and I can’t!”
Mr. Ragnar sighed and held him tighter, “When things calm down, when you learn your powers properly you can visit. It will be a few years, but I won’t hold you here forever.” He patted his back, “I only want to protect you.”
“You only want to protect yourself.”
The basement was silent then, only filled with Jaska’s sobbing and the smell of burning candles. Mr. Ragnar let him cry until his eyes and head began to hurt. His master put him on the couch before beginning to clean up the circle.
“Is that honestly what you think? That I’m only doing it for myself?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Maybe. What would it do if you let me go and they killed me? Would they find you?”
“Yes.” He set the remains of the candles on the table, “What happened was an accident and it would make me extremely angry if someone hurt you because of what you saw me do.”
Jaska stared at his knees, “Why do you care what a kid you don’t know does?”
“I suppose,” he stood, “that I looked at you and saw Leif. I saw a scared boy who might get hurt and I stepped in.”
He didn’t want to talk about Leif. Mr. Ragnar had made it extremely clear that he loved the young man. “Fine.”
“Is there anything I can do to help with the way you feel?”
“I don’t think so.” Jaska kneaded his hands together, “I’ve never been like this before.”
Mr. Ragnar sat in the chair across from him, “It sounds as if it will get better. You only need to get used to living here. Think of it like going off to college.”
“A college that I can’t leave,” he muttered. “Can I go to my room now, sir?”
Mr. Ragnar nodded, “You don’t need to ask like that. I would prefer it if you didn’t, but I won’t make you stop.”
Jaska stood and walked up the steps. Leif was asleep on the couch, Lantern was drawing while moving his head side to side and humming. Jaska walked up to him, “Stay down here with Leif, ok?” He nodded. “Good.” He walked up the steps and made it to his room before starting to cry again.
When he started he couldn’t stop and he passed out. When he woke up he had a strong headache and could barely open his eyes. Out of habit, he called for his mother like he did when he was sick. This made him feel worse and he sat in the dark, wanting to throw up. Mr. Ragnar stepped in in place of the woman who had raised him.
“Jaska, what’s wrong?” he asked. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a black robe.
“I can’t really open my eyes. I cried too much,” he said with a frown.
“Hang on.”
Mr. Ragnar came back a moment later. He sat next to him, “Ok, hold still. This will help.” He placed a cool, wet rag over his eyes, “How are you feeling?”
“Not great. I’m sorry I called for my mom, it’s just a reflex. Why did you show up when I did that?”
“I thought you were in trouble or sick or hurt. Leif used to call for me in the night. He had a lot of nightmares. Do you have nightmares?”
“I don’t think so. I can’t remember.”
“Alright. How are your eyes?”
“Throbbing.”
“Hold that there. I’m going to get you some pain pills.”
Jaska did as he was told and held the cool cloth as Mr. Ragnar disappeared. His eyes were starting to feel slightly better. When Mr. Ragnar came back he took the pills without looking and swallowed them. “My eyes feel a little better.” Despite how much he hated it he spoke what popped into his head anyway, “You’re good at this.”
“Thank you. Close your eyes, I have another cloth for you.”
Jaska closed his eyes; the new cloth was colder and softer. He sighed happily. “Thanks.”
“Lie down. This will help the swelling go down.” He sat next to him, “Lantern isn’t happy about sleeping in Leif’s room.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Do you need anything? I can stay here if you want or I can go.”
Jaska hated that he wanted the man to stay. He felt sick to his stomach. “No. Stay.”
“Alright.”
He could feel Mr. Ragnar shifting on the bed. “Do you need anything?” his master asked.
“No.” He yawned, “Well, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you kill a lot of people?”
Mr. Ragnar chuckled, “Yes. Why?”
“No reason.” He found himself drifting off as his eyes began to feel better. When he woke up Mr. Ragnar had fallen asleep on the bed. His legs were dangling off the side and he looked about to fall off the mattress.
Jaska sat up and took the drying cloth from his eyes. They were less swollen and he wasn’t in pain. “Mr. Ragnar?”
The necromancer sat up, “What? Oh, my back.” He stood and stretched, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Jaska looked at his knees, “Thank you for staying with me, sir.”
“No problem. I don’t mind, really.” He cracked his neck, “I, however, am getting too old to sleep in a child’s bed when I should be in my own.”
Jaska watched him go before standing. He went to the bathroom and took off his clothing, in need of a shower. As he stood in the hot water he tried to keep in his tears but he found himself breaking down again. Not as furiously as last night, since his face ached with the strain, but he cried none the less. When he went downstairs, he saw Leif had already fed Lantern. The little Mothman leapt from his chair and jumped at Jaska. He hugged him.
“Oh, I’m sorry buddy. Thanks for taking care of him, Leif.”
“No problem. Are you alright? Your eyes are red.”
Jaska nodded, “I’m fine. What’s for breakfast?”
Mr. Ragnar sat down across from Jaska as they tucked in to jam and toast with hard boiled eggs. The necromancer looked at him strangely. Jaska was certain he wanted to ask why his eyes were red again, why his cheeks were red. After a bite of toast and a sip of orange juice he asked if he could go and take a walk by himself. Mr. Ragnar replied that he didn’t mind as long as he was careful. Jaska left without another word, pulling his coat tightly around himself. It was a foggy, grey morning. There weren’t many people out and about. He made his way down the street and towards the candy store. It was one of the few places that he remembered the location of. He stepped inside and began looking around. After several minutes, he purchased some chocolate and left.
Around the corner was the open market. He walked slowly through it, eating his chocolate as he did so. The market was interesting and no one bothered him. He walked out of the market and turned right. Jaska made his way out of the main city and towards a small section of the forest. He found his head felt better when he was out of the noise, but the fog was muffling it. A stream ran through the forest, bubbling up by the rocks. Jaska sat down in the cool grass and stared into the water. He pulled his knees up to his chest and began to think. Ty was dealing with his parent’s divorce all alone. He wondered if he was alright and hoped he was.
“Something on your mind?”
Monarch had appeared out of nowhere. Jaska jumped slightly at the man across the river from him. “Not really. Why are you here?”
“I’m your Spirit Guide. We’re supposed to be getting to know one another, to be friends.” He shrugged, “Besides, you looked pretty damn miserable.”
“I am. I don’t have any real interest in talking to a serial killer.”
Monarch looked at him. At least, his head was turned towards him. “Well why not? I’m very nice. I didn’t torture those people.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better. Leave it to me to get a serial killer for my guide. As if this can't get any worse. It probabl
y can and it will.”
“Don’t be so down on yourself, Jaska. I’m sure things will get better. Mads told me what happened.”
“With what?”
“How you came to be with Mr. Ragnar. He’s a killer, it isn’t surprising that’s what you caught him doing.”
“That’s a bit pot calling the kettle black.”
“You know he killed his wife don’t you? And his kids. So don’t go acting like I’m the worst person.”