Almost as soon as Aaron had covered his ears, the screaming stopped and the girl closed her mouth tightly. It was as if nothing had even happened as her gaze was still fixated on the hole, drawing his attention back down too. “You want me to keep digging?” The ghost didn't respond and kept staring at the hole with dead eyes. “Okay, I promise I'll be more careful.” There was still no response, and so Aaron decided to keep going, carefully brushing the mud away instead of clawing at it with his fingers. He was making slower progress now, but the apparition didn't seem too perturbed anymore.
The next layer of soil revealed a hard, pale object that was slightly smooth to the touch. As Aaron continued to excavate it, the spirit loomed over him and seemed to take an interest in his discovery. Feeling encouraged by her reaction, he continued to pull mud put if the hole until the rest of it had been revealed, not knowing what he would find there.
Aaron carefully removed the object from the surrounding dirt before gently taking it with both hands and lifting it out of the hole. He held it up to the ghost as some sort of offering without examining first, wanting to impress her for reasons that were unclear to him. It wasn’t until he showed the item to the girl that he realised what it was. A skull, approximately the size of her head stared back at him with empty sockets and yet he no longer felt scared. As he looked at it in wonder, images were projected straight in to his mind. He had somehow opened a door to the girl’s own broken memories, with the dark eyes of her skull acting as the key.
The girl. Her name was Emily. She was playing in her room, so many years ago. Aaron recognised it as his own bedroom within the same house. All seemed well until a man came home. Her stepfather. He was stressed and angry. Emily’s mom had died that same year and he had become her sole guardian. She overheard him on the phone from upstairs. He had lost his job and couldn’t afford to pay the bills. There was a chance that he would lose everything.
The man was pacing and tripped, injuring himself. He had fallen over one of Emily's dolls. Her stepfather had always hated looking after her and there was so much rage in his eyes. He was yelling as he climbed the stairs and entered her room. Emily had tried to hide, but he still found her and grabbed her by the neck. He wouldn't stop shouting abuse at her and she couldn't break free.
Emily’s stepfather dragged her to the bathroom. He filled the bathtub to the brim and that's where he killed her. He held her under and she tried to scream, but she couldn't breathe. She knew that it was the end, but couldn't do anything to stop it. She was so alone and no-one was there to save her. If only her mommy was still there to protect her.
The slideshow of images faded as Emily's life was stolen from her. After that, Aaron could put together what had happened next. Guilt, or most likely self preservation, made the man bury the girl’s body in the basement. He boarded up the stairs and built a pantry, trying to hide what he had done from the world. The man had tried to forget, but Emily wouldn't let him. She haunted him day and night. He couldn’t sleep. It was too much for him to bear and so he sold the house. Where he went next, she couldn’t follow. Emily was tethered to her body and to the house that surrounded it. She was doomed to spend the rest of eternity there, so alone in her grief. That was until Aaron came along.
It was strange, but a feeling of relief took over, as if Aaron had finally found what had disturbed him so much about the house. Standing still behind the skull that had been presented to her, the spirit’s blank expression curved up into into smile and for just a second she took on the form of a normal little girl.
“Thank you.” Emily said, with such innocence.
Aaron was so taken back that all he could do was simper in return. He knew the truth about what had happened there and she seemed pleased by it, but before he could pull himself together and form a sentence, the girl's face began to melt away. It wasn't like melting wax from a candle, more like water running down a window pane. Her entire body turned to a clear liquid as she was washed away, the water that had formed her body seeping into the soil until there was nothing left. Emily was finally free. At least until the next night when the nightmare would start all over again.
**********
Aaron woke the same way that he did every night, drenched in sweat and lungs gasping for air. Sitting upright in his rickety, motel room bed, he tried to go through what he had seen, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t understand why he still dreamed that same dream, night after night. However, this last one had been closer to his actual memories than his other nightmares. The basement and everything that occurred within it was real, it had happened when he was nine years old and he still remembered it like it was yesterday.
It was supposed to be over. Aaron thought that he had solved the mystery as a child, his first ever case at nine years of age. Perhaps it served as a reminder of where he had come from and why he made the choices that shaped who he was. He had found the truth, but the culprit had never faced justice. The police examined the corpse that had been buried under the house, but Emily's stepfather was long gone and they apparently couldn't find any sight nor sound of him. No-one seemed to believe how Aaron had found the body, not even his parents. It was difficult for anyone to put trust in the child's story, as he raved about how the ghost of the victim had revealed herself to him and that she had shown him what had actually happened that day.
Aaron would have likely forgotten about it all too if it hadn't been for the incessant nightmares. He knew that everyone had their demons, but not everyone had to live through them on a nightly basis. Everyone had their regrets, but some were much worse than others. Aaron knew that Tommy’s biggest regret was that he wasn’t able to protect Christie, and he had almost let that destroy him. Whereas Aaron's regret was the fact that Emily’s stepfather had gotten away, managing to avoid any repercussions and he was still out there somewhere. He hoped that one day he would be able to finish the hunt by finding the murderer and confronting him, but he had no idea what would happen the day that he did. Killing a human was completely different than slaying a monster and he wasn't sure that he could live with the consequences of such an act.
Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm himself, Aaron lay back down. He tossed and turned for a few moments, beating his pillow with his hand to fluff it up and make himself comfortable. He had lost so many hours of sleep over the years due to his uncontrollable dreams, but he was still determined to get some rest if he could. It was likely that sleep would elude him, but that didn't mean that he would give up.
Aaron closed his eyes tightly and tried to clear his thoughts, hoping that he would soon be able to fall asleep. It took a while, but he eventually started to drift off. He would soon be dreaming again, but this time it would hopefully be about something more pleasant than his childhood experiences, as rare as that was.
Coming close to achieving some well needed rest, Aaron was interrupted by an overly familiar sound. Tommy’s timing was impeccable as always as he began to snore loudly in the next bed over, disrupting any chance for him to have even the lightest of snoozes. It was typical that his snoring would start now of all times.
Groaning loudly, Aaron pulled the pillow out from under him and placed it over his head. He would either muffle the noise or smother himself in the process. Falling unconscious due to asphyxiation was a kind of rest, wasn’t it? Either way, he would certainly make sure that his friend was aware of his transgressions in the morning. At least he wouldn't be dreaming about anything else tonight, good or bad.
Chapter Six: The learning curve.
“Take care of yourself, Fitzpatrick. Oh, and tell that buddy of yours that he still owes me fifty bucks.” The familiar baritone voice on the other end of the phone was comforting, leaving Aaron feeling homesick for the Northeastern States.
Aaron simply chuckled, not letting the oblivious Tommy know that they were talking about him. “I will. Make sure you look after yourself too, old man.”
Aaron hung up, placing his cellphone back down on the side table next to his bed
. It was good to hear the voice of someone other than his best friend, even though the guy had the annoying habit of calling him by his surname. He was just glad that there were others like him and Tommy out there, fighting the good fight. The conversation with Eric had been an enlightening one at that, and there was a promise of more details to come. The much older hunter had taken a shine to both Tommy and Aaron, teaching them everything he knew about supernatural beings and how to combat them. They still relied on his knowledge and experience from time to time, especially when they were struggling on a case like this.
Tommy shot an inquisitive look towards Aaron. “So? What's he got?” He had made himself at home in the motel room, taking his spot on the ragged couch as he reclined and watched TV, a half empty six pack of beer resting on the carpet near his feet. He was just about to crack open his fourth can as he waited for an answer.
Aaron rubbed his weary eyes, still suffering from his severe lack of sleep. “He said that you still owe him money.”
An unimpressed Tommy waved his hand dismissively. “The old guy’s losin’ it. I paid that son of a bitch back last month.”
Aaron couldn't help but grin. “Sure you did, but that’s between you and him. Anyway, he said that he’d encountered something similar before.”
Tommy suddenly looked interested, turning down the volume on the old television that had been blaring loudly until then. “Same as the Mitchell kid? Fuckin’ sweet! Well don't leave me hangin’!”
Aaron sat up on the side of his bed facing his friend, his legs dangling off the edge as he began to explain. “Get this… Eric said that he was hunting a guy a while back. The weird thing was that he had been dead for well over a year. After some digging, he came to the same conclusion as us. That he wasn't chasing a vampire, changeling or your regular walking cadaver, but something else entirely.”
Tommy took a big gulp from his beer before gesturing for his friend to continue. “And? What the hell was it?”
Aaron sighed, shaking his head slowly. “He never found out… but he did track it down and ended it.”
Tommy looked thrilled. He clapped his hands together, spilling a little of his drink on the sofa. “Legit? So we can kill this fuckin’ thing?”
Aaron simply nodded, making a face as he caught a whiff of stale beer. The smell of alcohol was strong in the room, either from the open containers or from however much beer had been spilt over the last couple of days. He wished that Tommy would keep a clear head, but he knew that his friend drank to ease the pain of his past. Each sip that he took made the world seem a little less bleak, but Aaron still didn't like seeing him this way. “Do you have to drink all the time? That stuff will kill you...”
Tommy raised his arms up, making an exaggerated shrugging motion with his beer can still in hand. “Seriously, dude? The shit we deal with on a daily basis and you're worried about my fuckin’ liver? I'll be long dead before it gives in.”
Aaron couldn't help but laugh at his comment. “True enough, I suppose.”
There was a brief moment of quiet, with only the lowered volume of some Eighties action movie playing on the TV disturbing the silence, complete with explosions, gunfire and cheesy one liners. At least most of the other guests had left their rooms for the day. The things they had heard over the years through the thin walls of motels was enough to make even a seasoned hooker blush.
“So what else you got?” Taking another long sip of his beer as he moved to an upright position, it was easy to see that Tommy’s interest had been peaked.
Trying to recall the rest of what Eric had told him, Aaron prepared a mental list as he spoke. “Well we already know that he bites and drinks human blood, but he can't be a vampire as he was out during the day… Eric confirmed that what he hunted didn't have fangs either, just regular teeth.”
Tommy nodded, still interested. “Which explains the messy bite, right? What else you got?”
Aaron pondered for a moment. “He's fast. Not much gets away from you.”
A stupid grin spread across Tommy’s face as he took another sip from his can. “Fact! He’s also crazy fuckin’ strong. The dude dug his way out of his own grave!” That much was true. It must have taken a great deal of strength and stamina to break through solid wood before digging up through six feet of heavy soil.
“Strong and fast…” Aaron pulled his laptop from out his backpack and opened it up, resting it on his lap. He then proceeded to compile a list of everything they had mentioned. “There. I’ll put it in the case file and we can add to it when we know more.”
Tommy lay back on the couch again, balancing his beer on his chest. He seemed to watch it rise and fall with his breathing, relaxing his body again. “Just tell me when and where to shoot.” He never was much for research, but without him the team would be incomplete. They were two halves of a whole when it came to hunting and each of them needed the other.
Opening the Samuel Mitchell folder on his screen, Aaron began to read through everything that they had gathered so far. Tommy had already stopped paying attention and had turned the volume on the television back up in order to fully immerse himself in his action movie. It was a good thing that Aaron was used to filtering out the noise, as he was able to continue his work regardless. He loaded his web browser and began to cross reference keywords and any details he had on Sam with other sightings, reports or similar types of encounters. It was surprising what you could find out by reading through obscure forums, blogs and other such websites. The internet was used to hide a lot of useful information in plain view.
At a brief glance, Aaron could see that there were plenty of mentions of weird goings on, but nothing specific to Sam Mitchell or anything else like him. It could take a few hours to find anything of note, but at least Tommy was amusing himself. He would likely be fast asleep on the couch and snoring away again at some point within the next few hours. When he woke up from his slumber, they would likely feast upon the usual pizza, burgers or whatever fast and easy food that they could get their hands on. The usual brain food. It wasn’t the healthiest lifestyle, but they usually kept themselves so active on a daily basis that gaining weight wasn’t an issue and neither of them believed that they would live long enough to suffer from heart disease or diabetes.
“I’ve got it!” Aaron’s outburst of excitement caused Tommy to almost jump out of his skin as his nap was disturbed prematurely. He was close to falling off the sofa and on to the floor, catching himself just in time as he sat up looking bewildered.
“What the fuck, man? I was having the best fuckin’ dream… This one girl was doing this weird thing with her...” His sentence was cut short by Aaron who was oblivious to how much he had scared his friend.
“Forsaken. It doesn’t go into too much detail, but from what I’ve read… Sam Mitchell has to be one.” He turned his laptop towards Tommy so he could see the wall of text that he had been reading though. It was doubtful that he would read it too, but that didn’t seem to matter.
Tommy scratched his head, his hair standing on end where it had been pressed up against a cushion. “A what?”
Aaron continued. “A freak of nature that’s extremely rare. No idea where they come from, but they’re basically a poor man’s vampire. They share some of the same strengths, but are generally much weaker. Apparently some can withstand sunlight for extended periods of time. And get this… some of them don’t even grow fangs. Apparently it’s some kind of deformity.”
Cracking his neck, Tommy began to stretch as he slowly stood up from the couch, a pizza stain adorning his white tank top. “So… he’s a weakling bloodsucker who can walk around in the day, but he’s not so great at eating? Sounds like a shit life, but easy work for us, right? The usual then.”
Aaron turned his laptop back towards himself, beginning to scan through the text on the screen again. “Yeah… Fire, maiming or decapitation. Maybe we can get through this without either of us being stabbed again.”
Tommy looked down and noticed the stain
on his shirt, cursing under his breath. “Yeah, dude. Wait… I didn’t get stabbed, that was you! And then there was the time you took that bullet right in your ass!” He laughed, clearly picturing the whole ordeal in his mind and Aaron couldn’t help but join in the hysterics. It had been a horrible thing to experience at the time, with pain worse than he could have ever imagined, but in hindsight it was a hilarious location to get shot.
It took a minute for them both to regain their composure. Tommy eventually managed to stop laughing at his friend’s past misfortune, but his usual grin was left plastered across his face. “So how we gonna find this kid?”
Aaron looked Tommy straight in the eye, his own expression taking on a more thoughtful state. “Now that's the tricky part…”
**********
Sam had been running straight through the night and in to the early hours of the morning. Even when the sun had risen over the horizon, with its rays lighting up the sea with orange fire, he just kept on running. As his skin started to break out in a rash and it began to blister, he kept pushing onwards and kept his body moving. He no longer had a clue as to his whereabouts, eventually heading further inland and away from the ocean until high rise apartments and hotels gave way to rows of ramshackle housing, built way too close together to maintain any sense of privacy. Boarded windows and walls overrun with graffiti let him know that he had found his way in to one of the less reputable areas of town, whichever town or city that it was.
Tiring in the light of day, Sam’s speed slowed to a brisk walk and after a few more miles even slower still. He pulled his hood down over his face, keeping the rank smelling fabric as low as possible in order to protect his eyes. Jamming red raw hands deep into his pockets, he tried to shelter himself from the sun as much as he could, but he still felt it slowly burning him through the very fabric itself.
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