Which Reapers do I trust? I felt myself thinking. As if reading my mind Gargoyle glanced over at me. “Don’t trust any of them.”
We got to the train station below in the tunnels, Gargoyle wiped the ticket inspector’s mind, so I could jump the gates without a valid ticket. I had nothing on me. No phone, no keys, no wallet not even my identification card.
“Who were those Reapers before in the house? What do they want?” I asked as I was shoved onto the first train waiting at the platform. There were only a few other commuters in the carriage with us as we tried to hide near the back corner. The Reapers got on too, but sat further away; their Goons patrolling the aisles trying to catch whiffs of scents. Passengers stepped through them without pause, but I felt myself tense and lean away when they got too close.
“They are Rebels. That Wolf Reaper is their leader. He’s the whole reason for this gigantic mess. They think you have the Creator.” Gargoyle quickly explained under a hoarse whisper. I kept my eyes trained on the pacing tiger Goon that was lingering close to me, its sharp eyes turned in my direction as its ears twitched. Every now and again its throat would inflate like a toad.
“Why can I see them now?” I referred to the Reapers.
“Because they touched you. The only way to see a Reaper is to be on your death bed or to come into direct contact with them.” Gargoyle clarified. “Their disguises won’t work on you anymore. You’ll see them everywhere now; it’s not a nice curse to have. There is a way to remove it but, it’ll take a lot of Hunters and we just can’t afford that now.”
“Where are we going?” I gulped loudly.
Gargoyle ran his hands through his hair, “Back to Whitehaven. We can hide out there till everything calms down.”
“But my parents? My family?”
Gargoyle shook his head, “You can’t. You’ll lead the Reapers there. If they know where you live, they’ll know about your parents too.” I brought my hand to my lips, trying my best to swallow down the unease that seemed to multiply inside me. Two hours felt like two days; my wandering mind kept me distracted from the rolling pastures and into the mountains of Whitehaven. The three Hunters didn’t leave my side once. When we rocked up into Whitehaven station it was past midnight. The two accompanying Reapers gave the Hunters a fleeting look, not exactly a likeable stare, but one of bitter acceptance before disappearing.
***
We hurried towards the old Whitehaven place, the sheltering shadows only brought more threats than safety. It was so dark, why don’t they have street lamps or something? An orange glow caught my attention as we stepped off the main road and into the driveway of the property. The crisp light hit me before the touch of heat pushed me back. I shielded my eyes from the glare and turned my head away. Someone had set the house on fire.
Flames ate up the walls and vomited dark smoke. The house was a beacon of destruction, a clear warning that screamed, ‘there’s nowhere to run. We’re going to get you’. I was on my knees before I could catch myself. Chaos pulled on my arm to pick me up, but I wrenched my shoulder free.
“Why would they do this?”
“Rachael! We can’t…” Gargoyle knelt down so we were eye level. The warm eyes that once brought me peace now seemed as dead as my hope. Gargoyle tossed Damage a quick nod and she disappeared momentarily. We started to walk back towards the streets, my feet were hitting the ground but they felt numb.
Damage then reappeared slightly out of breath, “It’s clear.”
“Okay, back to the cottage.” They steered me forward when I pulled myself back. I don’t know what it was, but an internal impulse forced my heel into the ground, fighting against Gargoyle who tried to guide me forwards. “What are you doing?” He stepped around to look at me but I looked over my shoulder back towards the fire.
“Wait… It’s here.”
Gargoyle released me immediately. Damage went to protest, but Gargoyle pulled her back, gently shaking his head. I walked back down the driveway towards the red ball of flame. The house was barely standing, I could hear the screaming of the walls as the wood snapped and buckled. A twinge hit me from inside and I just stopped walking.
Fluttering above the dancing fingers of fire was a butterfly. Gargoyle, Damage and Chaos all froze in their positions near the top of the driveway. The butterfly’s figure was just a dark shadow against the backdrop of orange blaze. It seemed to struggle to remain in the air. Then it unfolded from its tiny bug body landing on its feet and straightening its back. The Creator glowed with an internal power that put the fire to shame. It cocked its head at me as it approached.
I found you. Its voice, an inhuman gentle song, resounded in my head.
I inhaled sharply. It stepped towards me and placed a finger on my cheek. The cloudless sky darkened as the rumbling of a brewing storm growled at us from above. The storm appeared in a matter of seconds. The Creator seemed to smile at me; its crisp, vibrant eyes a torch in the gloom. Then it started to cry and rain bucketed on top of our heads.
“No!” I could hear Gargoyle shouting faintly. “No! No!” He ran at us at full speed, crashing into my shoulder in his haste. He grabbed me, pulling me away from the Creator. The white haired spirit morphed back into its butterfly form before disappearing amongst the heavy rain. It was relentless, but also satisfyingly free. The rain slapped against my skin and I passed out.
Chapter Fifteen:
Dreams of colours stirred me. Dreams of noises. Dreams of fingertips touching my hair, combing through my blonde locks. Rocked by a gentle current. I floated amongst the clouds, dipping my fingers into their puffy faces. I was back in my room; mum and dad beaming at me and calling my name to wake up. When I woke, it was not my parents who lingered by my bedside. Chaos leaned over me, shaking me. My eyes fluttered open and he called over the other two. Gargoyle walked over and looked down.
“Rachael,” He exhaled with relief, “You’re okay! We weren’t sure what was going to happen.”
“What’s going on?” I placed my hand on my forehead. The lights were too bright in here, they were blinding.
“Which one do you want first? The good news or the bad news?” Chaos smiled and indicated over his shoulder. I looked to find Damage standing rigidly still with her back towards us. Both hands where bunched into fists and her spine straightened. When following her gaze I saw the flicker of the teal butterfly perched on the corner of the wardrobe. Damage was watching over it with the concentration of a trained sniper, preparing her deadly shot.
“Good news, you got the Creator.” Chaos cheered with fake enthusiasm.
Gargoyle shook his head as if he was frustrated at himself, “Bad news it’s marked you.”
“What are you talking about?” I sat myself up properly against the headboard.
“It’s nothing we can’t handle. We’ll just present you to the Royal and I’m sure she’ll be able to cut the bonds. But we have to act on it quick; Creators shouldn’t be in this world. Even more so, they should never attach themselves to a living.” He turned back to face the butterfly wearily.
Chaos tapped his temple, “They feel every emotion and intensify it by ten.”
“So, try and be as neutral as you possibly can.” Gargoyle recommended and I felt my brows rise.
“Am I in danger?” I spun around to face him.
Gargoyle twitched his lips, debating his answer. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one in danger.”
“Not really.”
“It’s okay; we can remove it from you. It’s similar to how a Banished attaches onto a Host, but instead of the spirit draining the living its pumping power into your body. It hasn’t completely ringed its finger around you yet, thankfully, so you won’t be controlled by its wild and forever changing emotions, but it can still be influential. Again, just stay mellow.”
“Okay.” I answered in my best monotone bored voice.
“Very good. Damage and Chaos will stay with you while I go seek council. I’ll be back as quick as
I can.”
***
To keep the Creator tamed they had to keep me incredibly bored. I stayed locked in my room facing the wall, while Damage kept her laser eyes locked and loaded on the butterfly. Not even Chaos was allowed to stay with us in case he got the urge to cause, well, chaos. Five or six hours passed when a loud thump rattled the door.
Damage’s eyes darted toward the noise for a brief moment, before calling out, “Chaos? Chaos, what was that?”
When he failed to answer Damage let out a very frustrated growl. “He ran off again.” She very slowly stepped away from the cupboard as one would circle a wild tiger. “Hey, don’t move.” She barked at me.
I waved my hand in the air at her before she disappeared to figure out whatever the disturbance was. The moment she flickered out of the scene, Chaos bolted in from the window, quickly holding his index finger to his lips to silence me. I looked at him then back at the door.
“What are you doing?” I mumbled under my breath.
Chaos winked, flashing his toothy wide smile that pinched his eyes closed, “Having fun.” He had caught an identical butterfly and cradled it gently in the dome of his fingers. He ever so carefully placed it next to the Creator spirit, which fluttered its wings in curiosity. He looked at me, winked again, and vanished. Damage returned and scanned the room, then gasped and clasped her chest. There were two butterflies now.
“What?” Her eyes widened, flickering between the two. She quickly looked back at me, absolutely horrified. “But, how is that possible?” She stuttered, lost for words. I couldn’t help myself as I cracked out with laughter.
Obviously, it triggered something within the spirit as the Creator’s butterfly glided off the counter, stretched into its human form and crawled over towards me on all fours. Damage shuffled backwards and hit her back on the door. I pulled my legs into my chest, not expecting the speed of the spirit. I could’ve sworn I could hear the Creator purring as it approached me and climbed onto the end of the bed.
Chaos was back at the window, “Oh-oh!”
Damage drilled her glare into him, “Chaos!”
“I was just playing around!” He quickly shrugged in innocence. The Creator turned its head in fascination to me. Even though I was afraid, my fear was not strong enough for it to replicate. Instead, the spirit filled my mind with images – like a reel of film, flashing pictures of gardens, wild fruit, water crashing into a rocky cliff, and clouds gliding across a blue sky.
“It’s okay.” I felt my shoulders relax, “It’s not going to harm us.”
“Yeah, maybe not now, but anything can set it off!” Damage barked, “You don’t know what the Creator is thinking!”
“Actually,” I tapped my finger to my head, “I do.” With the caution of a surgeon making the first incision, I pinched a white strand of its hair in-between my fingers. “He’s telling me something. He’s saying…Chō”.
Chaos perked up from the windowsill, “Chō? As in the Japanese word for-”
I grinned softly, “It means butterfly.”
Chapter Sixteen:
For the past, I don’t know how long, I sat flipping through the images Chō shared with me. He was like a powerful drug that slowly overtakes the mind; I was unaware of time or anything that was happening around me when in his presence. The first few hours were really intense, but the more time I stayed beside Chō the less the feelings were overwhelming. We started off small. I circled the room and Chō kept his eyes on me the entire time. I guessed it was a he, mainly because of his short wispy hair, but he had the type of face that was androgynous. Nothing about Chō was clear. After I lapped the room, I wandered through the house. Chō stayed in sync with me, fluttering above my head in his butterfly form, stopping as I stopped, lingering where I lingered. I walked outside and Chō, of course, followed quickly behind.
“Don’t get too attached to it.” Damage muttered. She had been following Chō who had been following me; the three of us forming a tense game of follow the leader.
“I think Chō’s curious.” I pointed out. I picked up a desk lamp to examine it and Chō fluttered down, landing on top of it as well. I chuckled.
“What’s taking Gargoyle so long?” Damage asked Chaos. He leaned back on a chair, both legs up and crossed on the table and his hands behind his head. He shrugged to answer her.
“Want me to go check it out?” He asked, but Damage pressed her lips together into a frown.
“We better not disturb him.” As if waiting for his cue, the door opened and Gargoyle jogged inside, bearing a smile. A gust of the night air followed after him like an aftershock. Chō landed on my shoulder and tucked itself into the bend of my neck. Gargoyle glanced around puzzled.
“Is everything okay?” He looked over at me before he reappeared in a silent pop, so he was standing within kissing reach. He leaned forward and gently brushed his hand along my neck, lifting up the curtain of hair that shielded the butterfly. “I see nothing is on fire. That’s good.”
“We’ve named it Chō” Chaos pounced upwards, joining Gargoyle to inspect the butterfly. I had to lean my head away, so I wouldn’t breathe into their faces.
“Chō?”
Damage rolled her eyes, “Rachael named it.”
Gargoyle glanced up, his warm gaze seizing mine. He was smiling and I bit back my blush. “He seems to like it?” I offered a shy shrug, gently stroking Chō under his belly. “And he answers to it too. See?” I turned my cheek and whispered, “Chō?” Chō snuggled against me in reply.
“That’s cute.” Gargoyle straightened up and crossed the room. “I have good news too. Miira is pleased. She’s going to meet us down here in the local high school down on Bolt St. Since we can’t take Rach up there, it has to happen on earth. She’s going to break the bond; you’re going to be free.” He returned with a torch and a backpack. He rubbed both hands up and down my arms. “We’re going to win this war.”
***
A combination of fear and excitement wavered through us. Without wasting a moment, Gargoyle, Chaos and Damage packed up their things and escorted me through the woods. Chō followed among the tree branches, sometimes stopping to play or tease some of the other nocturnal wildlife out trying to hunt. We walked across the old park of Whitehaven Carnival and into the dead silence of the local High School. It was pitch black as we entered the main halls; Gargoyle’s torch being our only source of light. Once we were deeper inside the school, Damage turned on the main lights, blinking the assembly area into life. It was huge; rows of chairs easily seating 500 guests all stacked facing a large stage. In the front corner was a podium with luscious red curtains towed back to each edge, opening up the platform. Gargoyle got to the top of the stage and dropped to his knees. Bringing out a stick of chalk, he started to draw markings onto the ground. Damage kept close to my side, more out of mistrust than concern for my well-being.
“Did she tell you anything?” Chaos asked as he worked beside Gargoyle, trying to help sketch out the esoteric design onto the floor.
“Not much, but she never does.” Gargoyle answered as I stepped up onto the stage, looking down at their work.
“What’s all this for?”
“Well, she needs a connection to come down from the spirit world. She hasn’t been to earth in a very, very long time.”
“So, are you saying I’m about to meet… God?”
Gargoyle smirked and nodded. Chaos bounced to my side, beaming madly. “Almost like meeting a celebrity isn’t it?” He grinned.
I coughed out a laugh, “Are you kidding? This is… this is God! What else can possibly beat that?”
“Well…” Gargoyle glanced over, “You technically have a spirit of creation, one of the most powerful and feared pure souls in existence acting like your personal pet. More people would be lining up to meet it than a Royal. Royals rule over the spirits, Creators rule over… well, they don’t rule. They just create.”
“I guess I didn’t think about that.”
“J
ust don’t ask too many questions” Damage forewarned, “Better yet, just stand there and try not to drool all over her feet.”
“I’m so nervous all of a sudden!” I fanned myself as Chō gently landed on the tip of my nose. Even through his tiny bug eyes I could sense the hammering of my heart absorb into him. He was nervous too and was trying to comfort me.
“Not long now, everyone stand back” Gargoyle bolted up and looked up at the ceiling above our heads. Damage cleared her throat too, patting down her hair and trying to straighten her uniform. Chaos looped his arm through mine, giving a reassuring squeeze. Chō fell silent. We waited. And we waited. And waited. Gargoyle’s smile hardened into a confused scowl, stepping back to look over his work on the ground. Damage hurried over next to him, “Did you make a mistake?”
“No, no it’s perfect. I don’t understand.” Gargoyle mumbled. The silence of the room started to change. It became colder, the air felt thicker and Chō took off into the rafters as if spooked by something. We glanced around the auditorium.
“This can’t be right.” Gargoyle muttered under his breath when a voice startled us.
“Well done, Gargoyle. Miira is so proud.” It came from the entrance of the hall, the stranger’s face covered in a miasma of shadows, but the hint of red hair caught whatever light was in the room. We all turned to face the new Hunter as he strolled in, slowly clapping in a patronizing manner.
“Nathan?” Gargoyle addressed him puzzled.
Nathan flickered and teleported onto the stage beside us, rubbing his palms together as if trying to rub warmth back into them. The air was as chilly as an incoming snowfall.
My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators Page 10