Beneath the Elder Tree

by Hazel Black

  ‘Ah, so there is.’ Tim rose from the pavement and waved to the dark figure, who took a few seconds to gesture lazily. ‘It’s a friend - well, as much as a ghost can be a friend. They’ve arrived a little earlier than I expected.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘They.’

  I saw more glowing red eyes appear. A dozen or more shadows were perched on the rooftops like crows eyeing road-kill. I felt very uneasy under their watchful eyes. I also sensed a deep malice towards me. One in particular, the slender faced ghost, was emitting a powerful feeling … perhaps it was jealousy … I couldn’t tell. I didn’t like the situation and wanted to escape it as quickly as I could.

  ‘What do they want?’ I asked, purposely keeping my voice low. ‘I don’t feel safe, Tim.’

  ‘Relax, Lucy. You’re in no danger here.’

  ‘That’s not what my instincts tell me.’

  ‘Stop worrying.’

  ‘I will as soon you tell me why they’re here.’

  ‘There’s to be a little convention tonight. Us ghosts have something rather pressing to discuss.’

  ‘What’s the topic of the discussion?’

  ‘Why, killing the shepherd, of course.’

  ‘Tim, this is dangerous,’ I hissed. ‘Talking about killing the shepherd in the open like this. That thing is flying around out here, you know. And I’ve seen its real form - the body it has here in this world. I don’t want to get into a tussle with it.’

  ‘Don’t be afraid, Lucy.’ He reached out to me. ‘Come.’

  I stared at his hand as it moved towards mine. His skin shimmered in the warm auras of night world and was elegant and unnatural. Tim was even more beautiful here than he was in the world of the guides. I should have been drawn to him like a magnet. But I wasn’t. I backed off and I refused to take his hand.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Perhaps I’ll join you for your next meeting. Not tonight. I need some time to myself, Tim.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be gone for quite some time’ he replied, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t give a damn. ‘You’ll be one your own for the entire night.’

  ‘I’ll survive one night on my own.’

  - CHAPTER EIGHTEEN -

  The Face of the Ripper

  I was terrified of being alone in the sinister world of the banished, but it still seemed a better proposition than waltzing into the unknown with Tim and the others. They had looked like demons in the darkness of night world and had been exuding a powerful evil that I neither wanted to be near nor part of. Tim didn’t seem bothered by them at all. He acted as if he was one of them and welcomed their embrace. It troubled me greatly to watch him snake up the wall of one of the buildings before convening with the spirits on the roof top. They spoke briefly before coming together in a ragged tangle of black clouds. A pulse of dark energy rippled across the night and they were gone. To where, I had no idea.

  The land of the banished spirits should have been made bearable by Tim’s presence. It appeared, however, that he was determined to be drawn into the band of ghosts and to chase out the shepherd. A part of me wanted to flee my lover. Another, stronger, part of me was convinced there was too much good in him to do any evil. I believed things would get better once we were either free of the city or the shepherd. I believed the magic that we’d both succumbed to in the previous weeks would return and last forever. Watching him disappear into a dark vortex with a gang of black spirits didn’t make me feel very good about myself, though. It’d been too easy for him to leave me, especially after the ordeal I’d been through the day before. Perhaps I was being selfish... Perhaps banishing the shepherd was of the utmost importance to all who inhabited the world of ghosts - including me. Either way I was content to keep my distance from the others. They felt wrong. Very wrong.

  I went to the border of the city and peered out over the plains to the twinkling lights of the suburbs. Millbrook, Hampton, Rosehill. I knew those places like the back of my hand but I could not bring myself to leave the city. There was only pain waiting for me in those suburbs. Only faces from my mortal life that would bring about sorrow and bitterness. I had to remain in the city. I had to be an invisible stranger to the world.

  I had been walking the dark streets for no more than an hour before I felt someone staring at me. I had just passed through a narrow alleyway that dissected two of the high streets of the city centre and was standing at the exit, trying to decide whether to head left or right, when a chilled feeling had come to me. I gazed across the street to see a young couple pushing a pram along the pavement. They were smiling and chatting and pointing at the windows of the stores they passed. A younger man had been walking with them before he paused by the roadside and looked towards me. His eyes were glowing brightly, which meant he was a spirit guide. I couldn’t help myself. I waved. He raised his hand and considered returning the gesture before allowing his arm to fall back by his side. His eyes faded out and became white - meaning he was afraid of me. He turned swiftly and followed the young couple along the pavement and was soon out of sight. It had been eerily similar to the first time I saw Tim. I decided right then and there that I would conceal myself from any spirit guides that I encountered in future. I didn’t want one of them to befriend me and end up sharing my punishment. I would have to make due with what I had. Tim would return to me and I would talk sense into him - or knock the impulsiveness out of him. He would have to either bend to my will or he would be on his own again, which I doubted he would accept. There would soon be a power struggle in our relationship that I intended to win. After my victory, I would have more influence over him and we could work at making our exile more bearable.

  I was walking west from the heart of the city and was soon in the vicinity of the hospital once again. I think subconsciously I needed to return to the scene of my punishment. I also needed to look on Laura again. I had to see her with my own eyes. I had to know if Tim had been telling the truth about her surviving the attack.

  Once inside the building I was battered by those negative emotions and thoughts once more, and I struggled to concentrate and navigate the corridors. I found myself going in circles, checking in rooms that I’d been in five minutes earlier. After an hour of searching I started to overcome the waves of sadness and think clearly again. I located Laura soon after that, in a private room on the third floor.

  I climbed onto the bar at the foot of the bed - instinctively perched like a gargoyle as most spirits seemed inclined to do. I spent some time simply watching her. Her aura was growing strong again, as was her body. She’d been stabbed three times, once in the abdomen and twice in the right shoulder. The wounds would take many months to heal. The emotional trauma of Grace’s death would take decades to scar over. And an ugly scar it would remain.

  Laura was unconscious and there were tubes attached to her arms and heavy bandages across her shoulders and neck. A pitiful sight. Dark tears fell from my eyes as I watched her chest rise and fall with the aid of the machines. Her injuries were a stark reminder of my failures as a guide. Laura had once been a source of great happiness for me. Now she was a source of torment.

  As desperate as I was that night, I still didn’t want to leave her. I needed someone familiar. I needed something that was grounded in a world other the one I was trapped in.

  I crawled onto the bed as sunlight broke through the high rise outside and poured empty light into the room. I nestled up beside her and monitored her dreams. There were hazy images of her mother, her home, her books, her guitar and the unfortunates of Millbrook that she helped from time to time. Everything in her mind was unspoiled. It gave me a little hope for humanity and the spirits they become after the physical shell is broken.

  I became so entangled up in Laura’s dreams that I failed to notice the blanket of sleep being pulled over me. Mirror world stole my ener
gy and I became still. My eyes grew heavy and I slipped into a peaceful sleep.

  * * *

  I awoke to find someone standing by the bed watching Laura. I launched myself from the mattress and landed on the ceiling, as if the world had been turned upside down. Something terrible in me had been stirred. I felt a fire rising inside my chest and my eyes blazed red. I was ready and willing to dive into the living world to fight or kill anyone who would try to hurt Laura. This was the first sign of the black spirit I was to become.

  My rage was quenched when I saw that the visitor was Mouse. He looked almost as bad as Laura. His arm was in a sling, his neck bandaged and the entire left side of his face was swollen and purple.

  I sensed no malice in him. Mouse was not responsible for Laura’s injuries, or her mother’s death. I hadn’t been quite sure of his story when he told it to the detective on the night of the attack. Now, in a calmer setting, I could read him much more clearly, and he truly was a good soul. I also sensed that he felt an attraction to Laura. Nothing sexual. There was simply a straightforward desire for friendship in him. There was also a sense of responsibility. He was thinking that he ought to have saved Grace and prevented Laura from suffering at the hands of the ripper. He blamed himself for what happened, and believed he didn’t react fast enough. In truth, he had done all he could. He had certainly saved Laura’s life.

  Mouse dragged a plastic chair across the tiled floor and eased himself onto it with a groan. I sat on the ceiling, directly above him and watched as he placed his uninjured hand on Laura’s. It was a tender moment, and one that I felt almost ashamed to be spying on. It was no longer my place to be watching over Laura. I wasn’t even sure if me being so close to her could cause her some harm. After all, I was a negative force now. I was a ghost that had the ability to drain positive souls.

  A tear snaked down Mouse’s cheek as he whispered into Laura’s ear. I sensed his deep regret over the things that the gang had done and said to Laura. I felt pity for him. His simplistic mortal mind could not comprehend what he had actually achieved. He had saved someone very, very special from a brutal death. And here he was feeling guilty.

  I could do nothing to alleviate his sorrow. In fact, his sorrow was spreading out into the room and I was breathing it in. It felt wrong to be sharing it. Me being there, watching Mouse’s torment, was very wrong. I decided to fall from the ceiling to the floor and take one last look on Laura before leaving to wander the city again. I meant it to be the last time. I lingered at the foot of the bed, wanting to give her a hug - something I could never do.

  Just as I turned away, Mouse began thinking hard on Laura’s attacker. I stalled and allowed his memories to penetrate my mind. He was fuming, and I was drawing in that violent energy. I felt powerful for the first time since I was banished. A new type of strength was filling me. A sinister and dangerous power.

  The darkness that swirled in me began to affect my mind, injecting thoughts that were out of character for me. One such thought was of great interest: I could place myself in Mouse’s body and through the power of possession I could properly explore his memories. I had done that exact thing when I entered Laura’s body to destroy the photographs. The difference now was that I was taking no risk. The shepherd never appeared in daylight, and I had nothing more to lose; I was already banished. I could invade Mouse’s brain, rummage through his memory banks and find the face of the ripper. Revenge was on my mind.

  I was now a ghost that could reach into the real world and torment, possibly even hurt, a living person. If I could see the killer’s face, then I could search for him. Oh, the torture I could inflict on that evil bastard. I could avenge so many innocent souls, including my own.

  I found the process of possession much easier than before. It actually felt fulfilling to occupy a living person as a ghost. I walked around the bed and simply sat on top of Mouse, sinking beneath his skin and filling his body. Mouse’s own soul slumbered and his body went limp. It had only taken a few seconds to gain dominance over him.

  I forced his body into total paralysis and concentrated fully on his mind. Avenues of thought surrounded me. I sifted through thousands upon thousands of memories and hopes and fears. I saw Mouse as a child, when his father had died and a terrible loneliness infected him. I uncovered the hatred he developed for his mother. I experienced his guilt in being a member of a gang that preyed upon the people who he had grown up with. I was on the right track. I followed the memories of being with the other gang members. His introduction to Josh. I was refining my search. The first discussions with the gang leader. The threats. The laughter. The crimes. The drug use. The money. The night they decided it wasn’t safe to hang around the street corners of Millbrook. They walked from the centre of the estate, across the green towards the old house. They were talking about the police. They were angry. They walked past what appeared to be a homeless man, crouched on one of the boundary walls of the green. Mouse had paid little attention to him. I couldn’t see the man’s face clearly enough. I moved fast through the memories, stopping only briefly when I saw Tim’s cruel haunting. I tore myself from that memory, not wanting to deflect my determination to find the face of the ripper. I saw Mouse running from that ruined abode, and as he did, he passed the man once more. This time the stranger was on his feet and limping towards the derelict house. Again I couldn’t see his face clearly enough.

  Eventually I arrived at the key memory. Mouse had scaled the concrete steps of the apartment block as fast as he could. He was at the point of exhaustion, thanks to incessant cannabis use that decayed his lungs. He was standing in the doorway to Laura’s apartment. He was face to face with the destitute man he’d passed days earlier.

  The ripper was a tall man with wiry limbs, greasy grey hair and a hollowed face that had deep creases etched into it. I guessed he was around fifty years old, but couldn’t be sure. He wore a charcoal suit that had seen better days. There were old stains on his slacks and one of the lapels of the jacket was torn. His eyes were what I focused on. They were crazed, rimmed red and set deep beneath his crumpled brow. I stalled on the memory and continued to examine this demented face. I couldn’t draw my attention from those eyes. They were crazed, yes, but there was also an absent look about them. I’d never seen a mortal that looked so … out of control.

  I rose out of Mouse’s memories and broke free of his body. I floated into the cool air of the hospital room and landed on the window sill. I watched the sky dimming and the flaming auras of the city were beginning to ignite. Night world had arrived and I had a new hunger driving me. I had purpose once more. Revenge.

  - CHAPTER NINETEEN -

  Funerals and Family

  Darkness smothered the sky and night world ignited the red auras of the city. The streets below were filled with flames. The charred buildings and towers and houses were on fire, negative aura illuminating every window. I felt alive. Tim was right when he told me that being a banished spirit wasn’t all bad. Even in a world of evil there was some contentment to be found. I was filled with excitement, desire, hunger, lust and rage. All this from vengeful thoughts… Was I already succumbing to my fate? I cared not. I was alive and the night was young. I was euphoric as I slipped through the glass and fell free from the hospital.

  The city was my playground in the early hours of that night. I actively sought out the strongest auras and found myself in the company of evil men. I watched them as they went about their wicked work. The cruel people of the world are busy under the cloak of darkness - and there was no shortage of them either. I grew more and more powerful as the night wore on, and I found the evildoers of the living realm, and I latched myself to them, secretly drawing their power from their souls. And in those hours I found a new way to survive. I was a parasite of sorts. And despite being a dark spirit, I was doing good - by accompanying evil people, I was sucking away their negative energy, which e
mboldened me, and weakened their sinister tendencies. I was turning the vicious into the docile. I understood even then that this was temporary. These people were instinctually bad, and would return to their instinctive ways soon enough. But maybe I saved someone from feeling their wrath for one night. And at the same time I was becoming much more than I had been the previous night.

  I rose from the sirens, voices, songs, groans and screams of the city. I glided along upward to the highest steeple and perched myself at its pinnacle. The great city lay beneath me, writhing in red and white against the deep shadow of night world. The only break in these colours was the purple hue of a spirit that roamed high in the sky. The shepherd never went away. He was a constant reminder that I could not be this majestic and powerful forever. Down there, in the pits of the city were the ancient ghosts that had been drained by him and were demented in their powerless state. They were invisible to me from my lofty perch, but I knew they were hidden out there amongst the buildings, and I knew they were hideous and beyond salvation. I knew I would someday be with them. All because of the shepherd’s dominion over this world.

  Tim had obviously been burning in the fire of resentment that I was now feeling towards my oppressor. He had been toiling in his hatred for the shepherd for many months and had grown obsessed with destroying him. I could now understand why he felt so bitter. Not only had the shepherd robbed us of our chance in the world beyond, it would ultimately rob us of our power in the ghost world. I still didn’t believe there was any possibility of success. The shepherd had been given life by a power that was greater than I could not even begin to comprehend. Such a majestic creator would not make errors in moulding a guardian to appraise the spirits that tried to cross into the world beyond. No, the shepherd was beyond destruction. The talk of overthrowing him was all wishful thinking on Tim’s part.