My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators

by Maree, Jacinta

  “You promised not to betray us!” He suddenly growled. I stepped backwards, seeing his darkness begin to surface. He’s angry at me?

  “I’m not betraying you, I just want some answers. If you’re not going to give them to me, then maybe Lock will.” I went to walk past him, but Gargoyle restrained me by the arm.

  “I won’t let you go back to him.” He dug his fingernails into my shoulder.

  “Let me go, Gargoyle!”

  “He doesn’t deserve you, Rachael. Your kindness, your honesty, and your ability to see into someone’s heart and soul, he’s going to rip the warmth from your body till you’re just as cold and miserable as he is. I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t lose you to him. I don’t care if you hate me for this, but it’s for your own good.” The red in his left eye flared to life, the radiance engulfing the soft gold that once lit his pupil.

  “Gargoyle, you’re not thinking straight,” I tried to reason as I squirmed in his grip. My hand clutched where his nails cut into my skin, but I couldn’t make him let go. With my free hand I reached for the blade that I kept in my pocket, only to have Gargoyle catch my wrist and pin it to the wall above my head. I looked back at him to find Gargoyle was watching over his shoulder.

  He muttered, “Come on, Lock, don’t make threats you can’t keep.”

  It took a second too long for me to realise what he was trying to do when a force ripped him off so fast I fell forward. Lock snatched the blade from my pocket in a twirling blur, spinning the handle in his fingers, before driving the point into Gargoyle’s chest with sharp precision. I shrieked as Gargoyle convulsed underneath Lock’s body. Lock kept him pinned to the opposite wall, ensuring the blade was deep enough inside Gargoyle’ chest that there was no hope.

  My scream rose up my throat, froze for a disbelieving moment, before hitting the roof. “No! What have you done?” I ran at him and tried to pull Lock back by his shoulder, but I only caught air. “Let him go!”

  Lock let go and took two steps back. Gargoyle’s face was riddled with black veins, the same poison that had plagued Lock now washed through his entire body. I knelt down as Gargoyle slid to the floor, his breaths choked, and his body growing limp as the venom consumed him. The blade was so deep inside his chest that it was lost among his clothes. Out of blind rage, I turned on my heel, looked into the Banished’s eyes and planted two heavy punches into his chest.

  I was just so mad I didn’t care if I couldn’t touch him; I still wanted to swing my fists as if I could land a hit. Miraculously, though, my hand did slam against his chest. I felt his solid torso under my palm, his body was so cold and firm that I actually bounced backwards. My hit was so powerful that I shoved him into the corridor and down the hall into the lounge. Immediately I knew it wasn’t me who did that, it was just impossible. At the same moment, the house began to rumble, the lamps and dishes jostling out of their spots and they fell crashing to the ground. It shook so violently that I thought the floor would split in two, when a weakened cough forced me to turn my head. The house settled as Gargoyle’s once dull eyes fluttered with life. He groaned, grasped the knife handle, and dragged the blade from his chest. He inhaled a long and gasping breath, before rolling over, coughing and clutching the puncture wound.

  “G-Gargoyle?” I stuttered as I crashed to my knees, turning him over to look into his face.

  “How is this… possible?” Gargoyle’s croaky voice asked as he patted the wound, shifting his clothes away to see the darkened mark start to fade.

  Lock reclined on his back and leaned up on his elbows, astonished, when something grabbed the scruff of his neck and hauled him up. He dangled above the floor, clutching at his throat, wrestling the invisible noose, before he let out a long, hollowed shout. I looked on fascinated horror.

  “What’s happening? Gargoyle are you doing this?” I asked as a shimmer of blue caught my eye. In that moment, Chō stepped down from the rafters. He was pinching Lock’s throat closed using telekinesis.

  “Chō, put him down!” I demanded, and Chō immediately let go, dropping Lock to the floor. He looked up, fluttering his eyes at me, and blinking away the angry scowl that twisted his alien like features. Lock stumbled backwards, his pale face white-washed in horror.

  “Are you okay?” I softly asked Gargoyle and he nodded. “Why did you do that?” Gargoyle didn’t say anything but hung his head lower to the ground. I grabbed his shoulder, “This isn’t worth destroying yourself over. But I don’t understand how you’re not dead?”

  “Chō acted on your emotions.” Gargoyle said with a wince. “I’m sorry; seriously I’m going to be fine. It’s these emotions; I just had a moment of weakness. I just need to…” He tapped his head, “keep my thoughts calm.”

  “You’re not alright, let me help you up.” I pulled Gargoyle’s arm so he was slung over my shoulder before delicately lifting both him and I up. I called over to Chō, “Keep an eye on Lock, Chō, make sure he doesn’t bolt.”

  Chō whistled like a bird before crawling up to Lock, sniffing the air around him as Lock strained to lean away. I had never seen horror plastered on someone’s face like that. He didn’t even blink. Chō, on the other hand, tilted his head left and right, studying Lock with gentle curiosity.

  “Chō has never seen a Banished before.” Gargoyle explained as I took him back into the kitchen and sat him in a chair. I got him a glass of water, unsure what else to do and politely he took the cup from me. I also dampened a tea towel and smoothed it over his wound, again not sure how else I was meant to treat an unwell spirit. Gargoyle again just smiled gratefully and took the towel.

  “I really am sorry.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, looking up at me like he had just competed in a marathon.

  “I believe you.”

  He took my hand and pulled it in, “I meant it though.”

  “To destroy yourself?”

  “Not that, about what I said…” He circled his thumb across my palm as my heart suddenly felt heavier, “He’s not going to give up.” I inhaled a shaky breath. Then Gargoyle moved forward, just enough until the pain in his chest forced him to stop. “Neither will I.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five:

  Reluctantly, I went back to Lock in the lounge. He had relaxed somewhat, his eyes no longer glued onto Chō as they whipped over to me upon my entrance. I shook my head at him, my eyes shining with angry tears, but Lock didn’t seem bothered. He seemed more upset about his own problem.

  “What. The. Hell?” He was glaring at me like I had been the one to drive a knife through his chest.

  “I am not talking to you” I snarled and went to Chō.

  Lock huffed in frustration. “Good, you can just listen. A creator? A CREATOR?! What on earth are you thinking?”

  “You have no right to lecture me!” I snapped.

  Lock scoffed, smugly opening his arms. “I don’t care that I stabbed him. You know what, I would stab him a thousand times if I could.” I growled and Chō mimicked me while arching its spine and returning its gaze to Lock, who pressed away, holding up his palms in surrender. “Whoa! Relax. Just relax; your little Hunter is fine.” He shuffled away, buying himself some distance. “What the hell is it doing here, Rachael?”

  “Why are you so shocked?”

  “Err… because you have a Creator spirit in the house. Not exactly the best choice of house guest.”

  “Don’t act coy, that’s the whole reason why you came to Whitehaven!”

  “Hell no,” Lock looked at me like I was crazy; “I don’t want anything to do with a Creator. Rach, they’re dangerous and you have to get rid of it.”

  “If not the Creator, then why are you stalking me?” I countered.

  “Because we care… and we weren’t stalking you! We saw that you were in trouble and we came to help. So sorry for trying to do something nice!” He barked sarcastically, “We sure as hell didn’t think it would bond with you.”

  I jeered at him, “Help me? Help? You really think I’m going to
buy your lies?”

  “I’m not lying; we were never going to harm you.”

  “Yet I was attacked and bitten by that demon wolf and nearly killed at the high school! Stop lying to me!” I started to pace, wringing my hands together, “You make it impossible to trust you, because the moment I did, you turned around and drove a knife into Gargoyle’s chest.

  Lock grimaced, “Raix just doesn’t know his own strength. He never meant to harm you.” He pushed himself away from the wall, and ran his hand roughly through his hair, “I’m not perfect, Rachael, and yes I’m going to get jealous. It’s a part of my curse, of who I am. I am an envious, jealous, brat of a boy; and I can’t stop thinking about how much I want you. I know my faults! I’m not blind and I’m trying to fix myself, but it just not that easy. However, I will never trick you. I will never betray you.”

  I shook my head, finally falling, “I don’t believe you.”

  Lock ground his teeth together. “You know nothing about spirits, especially Hunters!” He blustered, “How could Gargoyle allow this? So much for the caring angel, letting you bond to a Creator will kill you.”

  “Being attached to you will kill me, too.”

  He dropped his hands in defeat, “Yeah, but not as fast or painful.”

  I couldn’t deal with the drama anymore as I turned to him with my arms crossed. “You should go.”

  “Fine.” Lock turned to leave when I called out to him again.

  “No, I mean go, go. Go back to the Reapers and the other Banished. You don’t belong here.”

  “Rachael!”

  “I don’t want you here. Why can’t you understand that?” He didn’t shift and defiantly stared at me.

  “And if I don’t leave?”

  I swallowed hard. “Listen, whatever it is you’re clinging onto is gone. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you’re dead and I’m not! It’s impossible for anything to happen between us, and quite frankly, the thought of a demon loving me makes me feel sick. I don’t want you here. I will never want you. Do us all a favour and get out!”

  Lock didn’t move. He didn’t even turn back around to reply with some snarky remark. He just stood there, soaking up my words before he gently lowered his head. My words felt heavy as though I was still carrying them on my chest. Without a word he stepped into the shadows and disappeared.

  Chapter Twenty-Six:

  I stayed with Gargoyle for the next few hours as he recovered his strength. After he was settled, I went to have a shower, anything to try to clear my head. I couldn’t understand why I was filled with so much guilt. How could I trust him? It was like being the rope in the middle of a tug of war match. One side was convincing me he is a monster, my dreams a forewarning that I should avoid him; yet the other side’s pull was just as strong, revealing secrets of his gentle side and bringing forth a lingering heartache that felt so primitive I would be crazy to ignore the foreboding. I sat on the bottom of the shower consumed in my thoughts. Who do I listen to? My heart or my head? I was there for so long that the water was now freezing, but I couldn’t find the energy to move. Out of nowhere something large and hot loomed over the top of me. The watery stream suddenly blocked and warm pants caressed the top of my head.

  I slowly craned my neck up. A shadow sheltered me from the water, appearing so soundlessly that I thought I had imagined it. It had a short sturdy neck and its chin tilted up, basking its face into the water stream. It shook its coat so the water sprayed across the bathroom as silver smoke escaped from its pores.

  The wolf was in the shower with me, sticking its head in the stream of water like it wanted a drink. My entire body froze. I didn’t dare to even breathe. I caught glimpses of its canine teeth as it opened its mouth, exhaling out silver smoke while swallowing the water. What? Why is it here? What the hell is going on? I didn’t want to move, in case it turned its eyes down on me and felt like having a snack to go with its drink.

  “Rachael?” Gargoyle’s voice called from inside. The wolf pinned its ears back, looking over its shoulder at Gargoyle’s voice before simply fading into invisibility. Its footsteps heavy, as it barged through the walls and disappeared from sight.

  “Holy crap!” I jumped up immediately, turned the knobs off and covered myself up. I got dressed, terrified the thing would return without notice before I ran down the hallway to Gargoyle. “Gargoyle, I just saw -” I started, and fell silent upon seeing the wolf Reaper was there- in the lounge - his hand rested on the nape of the wolf’s neck. Kindly, the Reaper smiled, offering me an apologetic nod.

  “Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he really likes water.” Next to him was Chaos, who didn’t appear to be mistreated at all; on the contrary, he was smiling as warmly as ever.

  “Chaos? What’s going on?” I asked as I edged around the room. Gargoyle was slumped by the couch, still weary from the poison. Chaos pulled me into a hug.

  “You don’t look so well Rach. Are you turning into a Banished too?”

  Gargoyle huffed and rolled his eyes at Chaos’ poor humour. I mumbled, “It’s so good to see you. But, I don’t understand...”

  “Lock has offered to trade.” Gargoyle announced, “In his place we get Chaos back.”

  “Wait… Lock is the one who wanted this?” I turned to face the Reaper and he smiled.

  “Chaos has been explaining to us about what happened that night with the Hunter. We’ve come to a mutual agreement and temporarily put aside our differences. I want to also apologise on Raix’s behalf. He isn’t used to being careful with people, but please know he’s a good and loyal companion. Guess I can say the same thing about my brother.”

  “Raix?”

  “Raix,” He motioned to the wolf, “he is my Goon.”

  “And you said your brother?”

  The Reaper looked over at Gargoyle who nodded his head, calling Chaos over. Chaos helped him leave the room and go into the kitchen. The Reaper walked over to me and held out his hand, his smile strangely warm for being a man of death. “I haven’t properly introduced myself; I’m Jordon.”

  I shook his hand wearily, “I’m Rachael-”

  “Rachael, yes, I know who you are.” He took a step back and crossed his arms, his face pinching with concern, “This must be very hard on you; being tossed into the middle of this mess.” I didn’t answer straight away; maybe I wasn’t fully convinced I could trust him, or maybe I didn’t want to really believe my current situation.

  “I’m slowly understanding my part in all of this.” I mumbled back.

  “I was briefly informed about your conversation with the Hunter at the high school; I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it. Did the Hunter call himself…. Nathan?” I nodded. “Did he say anything else to you?”

  “He said he and I were family.”

  Jordon drew in a breath, his silver eyes flickering by his feet, “So it’s true.”

  “But I don’t recognise who he is.” I admitted quickly.

  “He’s your cousin. My younger brother and Lock’s older step brother. Amongst the chaos of war, we seem to have a family feud. Not the greatest timing.”

  “Wait… you’re all brothers? Did you say even Lock?”

  “That’s right, we’re all related. Well, by marriage at least. We’re his step brothers, your cousins.” Jordon reached into his pocket before taking me by my elbow and setting me down on the couch. He took out a simple piece of paper, which was seared around the edges and crumpled, “This is probably why he burnt the house down, but I managed to save it before the flames could destroy it.”

  He handed the ball of paper over. I was nervous as I took it off him before I peeled the corners out, opening up the crinkled photo. It was damaged, but not enough to make it unreadable. It was my Aunty and my Uncle, the exact same family portrait that I had dreamt of before it burst into flames at my fingertips. Behind them with faces unmarked stood Jordon the Hunter Nathan and my cousin Evan.

  “But… he…” I studied Evan’s face closer.

&
nbsp; Jordon chuckled weakly, not a real laugh but more like an exhausted sigh, “He looks different, but believe me it’s the same person.”

  My fingers tensed around the picture. Evan, my cousin Evan was smiling with soft, sparkling eyes; his hair toasted brown and his cheeks still plump with youth. Jordon and Nathan had the similar traits often found in siblings, both tan, both tall with a sharp angled chins inherited by their father. Both of them had chocolate brown eyes and brown hair, Nathan showed just a tinged of red in his hair colour. Evan looked like his mother, as she sat beaming at the camera, her locks ringed in curls around her shoulders and her huge smile causing dimples in her cheeks.

  “Oh my god… Lock is Evan? This whole time it’s been Evan?” I felt myself sway.

  “You and he have some history together; you actually saved his soul from damnation.”

  I whipped my head upwards, “I did?”

  Jordon nodded, smiling proudly. “Before you came into the picture, Evan couldn’t trust people and believed that they were only out to deceive and take advantage of him. But you managed to soften his heart and allowed him to rebuild his hope and faith in others. You, Rachael, were also his Host.”

  “I was Evan’s Host? Why can’t I remember any of this?”

  Jordon sighed, “That’s a secret Evan won’t tell me. What started off as a normal Banished and Host pairing turned into something much more beautiful and amazing. Hosts don’t usually help the Banished; if they do it’s under the influence of mind control. But you willingly helped him. You genuinely cared; and in return Evan started to feel love, warmth, and acceptance again. He stopped being Lock the Banished spirit and went back to being Evan Hastings. Since your separation he has clung to his memory of you to help him stay connected with his gentler side.”

  “Why didn’t he want me to see the photo? To know about him?”