My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-One:

We were back at Whitehaven, the short trek through the forest enough to remind my body it was running on empty. It was roughly 9, and Lock motioned his chin forward, signalling towards a lone guy manning a hotdog stand. He flipped sausages with a pair of tongs, shifting from foot to foot to keep himself from freezing.

Lock perked his brows at me. “What are you planning?” I whispered.

“You said you were hungry?” He glanced back smirking, “I’m here to serve.”

I looked back; it wasn’t exactly an empty area. He had taken us to the central park where teens littered the estate, mothers with prams walked around the hem of the gardens along the walk track and the hotdog man was stationed in the middle of them all.

Within the span of a breath, Lock disappeared into a shimmering gust of ash, his fog like body shifted across the breeze. I stood back watching cautiously as he arrived at the vendor. Becoming visible, Lock summoned a small spiral of dark matter in his palm, which he toyed with and twisted around his fingers. Stretching it out in the shape of a stick, he stepped up to the man and proceeded to jab the stick at his hat. Swiftly, he knocked the hat off so it hit the ground; and once the man turned to snatch it, Lock blew it just beyond his reach. Lock pushed it along the pathway before flinging it upwards so it was hooked in one of the tree branches above their heads.

The hotdog guy quickly found himself distracted playing piñata for his hat and Lock returned, presenting the now unattended cart with open arms. I shook my head no.  He narrowed his brows, not understanding my hesitation. I motioned to all the other people with a stern look. Lock rolled his eyes, curling his lips into a devilish grin before shifting over towards the parked cars. Effortlessly, he got into the closest vehicle, unhooked the handbrake, and pushed the car into a downwards roll along the level road. I gasped as the bystanders all stopped to watch before a few men ran over to catch the runaway vehicle. Despite their best efforts, Lock kept the car at a constant and steady pace. Everyone swivelled to watch and I took my chance, feigning shocked interest before helping myself to two sausages and a burger from the cart. I took refuge underneath a nearby tree as Lock materialised next to me, his hands in his pockets and taking a deep bow.

I couldn’t help but laugh in-between mouthfuls, “You really are a bad influence.” Lock beamed, incredibly pleased with himself.

I scarfed down the food as if I hadn’t seen meat in years. Once my stomach settled and I cleared my mouth of any crumbs, I patted my stomach contentedly. Lock lounged next to me, a few steps over. We both sat with our backs against a tree, I faced the homes, whereas Lock occupied himself with trying to make the fallen leaves levitate in his palm.

“Hey…” I said, coaxing him to drop his focus and glance over, “thanks for that.”

He smiled weakly, “No problem. Can’t have your stomach grumbling all night, it would drive me insane.”

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Interact with earthly objects?”

“Oh” He opened his palm and played with a very small ball of black smoke, “This is the energy that we collect from the darkness. It helps us make contact with things on this plane, though sometimes it’s really hard to control it. It can be dangerous; if I summon too much I could end up blowing up the object I wanted to interact with. Not enough obviously means I do nothing. I’m getting quite good at it though; it takes a bit of concentration, so sometimes I drop things by accident.”

He turned away as I ambled over, angling my head to see him properly, “What are you?”

Lock cocked his eyebrow, “I feel like this is a trick question.”

“No, I mean sometimes I see it, the demon side - like how your eyes glow like they are fire and the whole shadow thing, but sometimes I don’t. Like now for instance. What are you?”

“Gees, you want me to categorize it?” He sighed. 

“I’m interested. I mean is it like anything they say in the books?”

Lock snorted, picking up the leaf again to spin in in his fingers, “Books huh? Like your fairytales? Like the supernatural craze hitting the bookshelves? Well, let’s see. I can’t be like a vampire; vampires are too romantic and melodramatic. Werewolves, on the other hand, are lustful creatures controlled by pure, dominant instinct. That’s surely not us. Demons, or should I say Banished, we’re…” He laughed and toyed with the leaf, speaking aloofly into the space ahead until his tone dropped with the weight of an unwanted thought.

“Banished are…?” I urged.

He shook his head, rattling the worry away and he looked as if surprised to see me there. He then lowered his gaze onto the leaf where he crushed it, “Imperfect.” He tipped his palm so the crumbs scattered to the floor. “Not exactly the best pick for a romantic lead.”

I cocked an eyebrow, “Well, life isn’t a fairytale. You take what’s given to you.”

“Exactly,” Lock then bit into his smile, “In the end you need to take control of life. Unlike fairytales, Angels are not going to win this time.”

“Hmm…” I pursed my lips uncomfortably; I should’ve expected such an answer. I cupped my head in my hands, twisting my words over my tongue, “I was scared of you, you know. For a very long time I thought you were some sort of monster out to harvest my soul.”

Lock chuckled weakly, “Well you’re not exactly wrong. Banished tend to take souls but…I never wanted you to be scared of me.”

“That prank you played on me with James, for whatever reason you did it, it … it made my life hard. I just wanted a normal high school life full of first time experiences with boys, the graduation dance, a date at a movie, and being invited the cool kid parties, but I was constantly avoided like the plague.”

“Being normal is overrated.”

“It meant I was left out a lot, for instance our last valedictory dance I didn’t even have a partner. James had gone and no one was brave enough to risk taking on this ridiculous ‘curse’.”

“So… you want a partner to dance with?” He asked with nervous laughter, “Such a girlie dream. Well I’m here if you need a partner?”

I laughed, “With a demon? Thanks, but no thanks, plus,” I lifted my hand and waved it through his foggy body as it dispersed and rebuilt, “you can’t even touch me.”

Lock licked his lips, smiling despite a persistent frown, “I can if I concentrate really hard.”

“I rather not risk being blown up, thank you.”

He smiled gently, “Point taken. I really didn’t want to make life hard for you, but when it comes to other men-”

“Rachael.” Gargoyle approached us with a slight pant, shifting his eyes towards Lock who stiffened his posture. He then looked back at me, whispering, “I thought I told you not to come into town…”

“She was hungry.” Lock intervened, “I said it was okay”.

Gargoyle pursed his lips, “I should’ve known it was your idea. You do not get a say in this, Banished! The only reason why you’re even here is so we can trade your sorry soul for Chaos. Don’t make me regret letting you live. Rach, head back before someone spots you.”

“But Gargoyle-”

He gave me one last fleeting look, “Please don’t fight me. I’ll restock the food and meet you back there. Please, this is serious. Go back.”

Chapter Twenty-Two:

I went home like a teenager caught out past curfew. It was a quiet trek back, and once I got to the cottage I felt even more suffocated by the silence. Gargoyle finally returned home with minimum groceries - barely a loaf of bread, and some milk and cheese. He placed them on the table and retreated quickly before I could call him over. He moved in and out within a heartbeat, slamming the door as he left. Feeling the pinch of abandonment, I went looking for him outside. I had a torch with me, yet the moonlight was strong enough to keep the area bathed in light. Lock followed me to the door then stopped as I stepped out onto the grass.

“Rachael, he’s a Hunter, believe me he’s fine. He’s probably just sulking because we didn’t obey his stupid rules” Lock jeered from the threshold, arms across his chest and his eyes a blaze amongst the gloom.

“He’s been avoiding me a lot lately. I’m just worried.” I answered back before continuing. The leaves were slippery underneath my shoes, dampened from an earlier shower, while insects and birds kept at a constant chatter.

“He doesn’t want to speak with you.” Lock said in a mild shout. I choose to ignore him.
What does he know anyway?
“Don’t you think it’s a bit dark to be wandering around?” He added.

“You stay in the house then if you’re scared” I bickered back.

He solidified at my side in a silent whoosh, prompting me to flinch, “And what type of demon would I be if I let you wander alone?”

There’s that word again, demon.
“Hopefully, a smart one who knows his place and when he’s not wanted. I get it, you don’t want to talk to the Hunter but I do. He’s my friend.”

Lock’s face pinched as if he was about to drop to his knees in laughter, “Your friend?”

“I’m not kidding around Lock!” I turned on him and flashed the blade I carried in my pocket. Lock’s eyes immediately flashed to the glint of silver, its metal still stained in black blood. His smile dropped for just a moment.

“You trust him more than me?”

“Definitely.”

Lock threw his hands up, “Fine. Go talk to your precious Hunter.” He growled, then disappeared. Unconcerned, I kept going till I reached the stream near the bottom of the hill. I ran the torch light up and down the current as the black water moved swiftly beneath the shadows. It was hard to see, because the overlapping trees concealed the moonlight and the torch touched very little of the surface. I stepped out onto one of the rocks closer to the water as Gargoyle appeared on the other side of the bank.

“What are you doing? You’re going to fall in.” He remained masked behind his hood, his voice a broken mumble.

“What’s going on?” I shouted as I took a step back. He didn’t answer me, his white form concealed behind darkness. “Gargoyle? You can’t keep just avoiding me.” I stepped out onto the rock again and felt myself wobble.

“Rachael stop messing around-” Gargoyle squabbled as I hopped over onto the next stone, the rush of dark of water a constant whistle below. The wet consoles on my shoes skidded out from underneath me as I tipped sideways. Gargoyle teleported in a heartbeat; scooped me up so I slumped onto his chest before placing me on the ground again. I pulled on his sleeve before he had a chance to run.

“Hey, hey please just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” He mumbled as I put my hand to his chin, and turned his gaze to mine.

“Please, I want to help you.”

His back hunched, his voice strained with remorse and his chin tucked to his chest avoiding eye contact. “I lost her again. I lost my sister…”

I pulled him into my chest enfolded him in my arms. “We’ll get her back; I promise you there will be a way.” Those were the words I really wished I could make true.

“That’s not all…” He stepped back, took both my hands, and squeezed them. “Something is happening to me…”

Lock spoke up from behind as if he had been there watching, “You’re changing…”

I whipped my head around, “I thought you said you were going to wait inside.” He shrugged with a careless ‘meh’.

Gargoyle let my hands go and stepped back. “I don’t want to scare you…”

“You won’t scare me.”

“I am so ashamed; I would rather be destroyed in the Sin world than become this…” He mumbled and Lock defensively growled.

“Hey, watch what you say.” He warned.

I pulled on him again, “Please. Just… come back to the house. I promise I won’t be scared.”

Reluctantly I steered Gargoyle back to the house, but once inside he evaporated into shadows, retreating behind his bedroom door where he kept himself concealed. I let out a frustrated sigh and went to him, but Gargoyle strictly kept himself hidden behind the wood. His eyes held a touch of warm gold in the light, but his voice was full of sorrow.

“Good night Rachael.” He then closed the door and locked it. 

Chapter Twenty-Three:

I had another strange dream that night. This time I was back at the Whitehaven house, walking cautiously down the leaf littered driveway, so that every step crackled under my shoes. I had the same uneasy sensation when I tried to balance on the wet stones by the water, like at any moment I was going to slip over and be swept away by the unsettled current. It was dark everywhere, except the path leading me down towards the ruins of the house. The charcoal wood was still smoky, yet it was cold to the touch as I ran my hand along it.

I looked around; everything seemed to be trapped in a weightless bubble which only slowed time and motion. It was foggy and eerily quiet. On top of the blackened wood and brick, I noticed an undamaged photograph. It was my father and I, back on my sixteenth birthday, where I was leaning over the table to blow out the candles. Mum had taken the photo, surprising dad as he looked up in mid laugh. Underneath the photo was another one, this one of my Uncle Ray and his family. The family portrait was staged, his three sons lined up behind their parents who sat staunchly in front. Each son had their face blackened out but my Aunty and Uncle were left unscathed.

I glanced down as something nudged against my calf. Paper littered the floor seemingly out of nowhere, music sheets were blown around by a sudden draft. A noise of a crackling bark hit my eardrums before heat pinched my fingertips. The photos were set alight and I dropped them immediately. Within moments, flame crept from underneath the darkened debris, dissolving the music sheets into crumbs of ash, and the smoke hit my face like a splash of water. I was suddenly drowning, my hair was lifted above my head and I felt unable to move. The all too familiar sense of suffocation curled its hands around my throat. I couldn’t breathe.

I woke quickly and my hand shot to my throat. It was still dark outside, early morning if I had to guess.
It was just a dream
; I swallowed in mild relief. I walked over to Gargoyle’s room and knocked gently on the door. Not surprisingly, he didn’t respond.

“I wouldn’t if I was you…” Lock warned, seemingly bored. He stood behind me down the hall, lost in the dim backdrop of the breaking dawn.

I let out a frustrated sigh, “I keep forgetting you’re here.” I tried the door to find it was locked.

Lock shrugged uncaringly. “It’s not going to be pretty…” He chuckled again and I glared at him over my shoulder.

“Are you getting some sort of sick pleasure out of this? He’s obviously really upset…”

Lock clenched his teeth, “I know what’s been happening to him. I can smell it in the air. He has been stinking up the place for the last few days, but if you wish to see your perfect Hunter so much… here!” Suddenly the door opened and Lock disappeared. The door stood ajar, just a crack, enough to see the empty bed in the room. I pushed the door open further and it squeaked on its hinges. Gargoyle faced the window, the blinds drawn except for a sliver of light that snuck through the middle.

I advanced into the room cautiously. “Hey? How are you feeling?” He turned his face away at my approach. I started to get a sickening feeling, like something had gone terribly wrong. I gently reached to touch his arm and felt my hand tremble.

“Please… talk to me.” I begged and Gargoyle’s shoulders seemed to slump in defeat. Eyes like brown sand peered over his shoulder shyly and I gasped. One of his eyes was bleeding on the inside, the colour red spilling into the collage of golden wood. I brought my hand to my mouth when I noticed dark rings forming underneath his eyes, and his hair was blackened; not only from the roots, but further along its length. His tanned skin was losing colour, bleaching towards a gothic white.

“Gargoyle… what’s happening to you?” He turned his face away humiliated, “You look like one of them.”

“I lost my Hunter title.” His voice was so soft I had to lean forward to hear him, “I have been fighting it, but it’s no use. Soon I will become a Banished.”

“Can I help? How do we stop it?” I glanced around and Gargoyle shook his head.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“Can’t we ask Miira?”

He shook his head again and continued to look out the window, lost in his pain. “The worst part is being trapped in this mind. It’s like a great depression is pouring into me, draining my happiness till I’m nothing but a cold core fuelled by rage.” His fingers curled, forming fists. I watched his face tense and the muscles in his jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth. A crazed madness flashed in his changing eyes.

“Do you remember what I said to you, that I’d rather be a Banished than an unwelcomed Hunter?” I nodded my head gently. “I was wrong. This… this feeling is horrible. I don’t want any of this.” He turned abruptly and went back to the bed where he lay down, burying his head into his hands. I lingered for a moment before taking a seat next to him.

In a weak voice I said, “We can fix it…”

Gargoyle snorted, only shaking his head more forcefully. “No. This is the end for me.” 

“Don’t say that!” I placed my hands comfortingly on his shoulder. “Don’t be like this, Gargoyle. You’re the strongest person I know; don’t let it defeat you…”

“I’m losing my memories of all the times I ever laughed and smiled, of everything that has ever made me happy. I’m forgetting who I am. Soon, my only thoughts will be of revenge and hatred…”

My lower lip trembled; I could only imagine what it would feel like to have my happiness broken down piece by piece, removing everything of any substance only to have the empty gaps replaced with the very thoughts and memories you wished to forget. I stuttered as I spoke, “W-What was your name?”

“What?”

“I don’t mean your Hunters name. What was your name? Before you died?”

He paused for a moment in thought, “Simon.”

“Simon. Then I will promise to remember your name, your human name, even if you forget. I’ll remind you of your happiness, of the love you had for Delilah and your courage against all those who tried to push you down. But you can’t give up, there is always a way.”

Gargoyle smirked, “I can see why the Banished is so fond of you.” 

I softly laughed. I looked at him properly, studying how his left eye darkened under the tinge of red and the soft tan faded from his skin, replacing the radiance with a more vampiric gloom. His eyebrows were towed upwards like he was two seconds away from splintering and collapsing to the floor.

“Well,” I tucked a hair behind his ear, “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“You gotta be kidding me?” Lock’s voice pierced through us as he stood by the doorway, arms tensed and his brows knotted. “I think I am actually going to be sick! Gargoyle, you can’t be serious!”

Gargoyle’s lips curled in, I could feel tension radiating off his body as he turned his attention to the door. He stood up and walked to Lock who didn’t relax his stance.

“This has nothing to do with you!” He hissed just as Lock threw a fist into Gargoyle’s cheek. The impact resounded with a heavy thump as Gargoyle stumbled onto his back foot, cupping his jaw and wiggling it to set the bones back into place.

“You piece of filth,” Lock snarled and I jumped up, putting myself between the two.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shouted at him. A presence of heat and anger fumed from Lock’s body, causing dark smoke to leak out of his pores in soft streams. Gargoyle turned slowly, his chest heaving as he tried to swallow his growing rage.

“Do not… touch me…”

“Do not touch her!” Lock barked as he continued to advance. “Don’t you dare!”

Gargoyle straightened, “This has nothing to do with you, demon. This is between Rachael and I!”

“Don’t give me that bull. Rachael is naïve and you know it.”

“Excuse me?” I coughed as Lock continued to talk over me.

“You know she lost her memory; you’re just taking advantage of her. Try and take her from me and I’ll kill you.” Lock continued forward, not slowing his stride as Gargoyle side stepped to keep out of range of Lock’s fists. 

“You think you can kill me? Ha! Why don’t you let this pathetic obsession you have with her go?” Gargoyle mocked. 

The Banished stopped briefly, cracking his neck from side to side, “I wouldn’t push me. Don’t you know I’m the jealous type?”

I intervened quickly, “Just calm down. We don’t need to fight!”

Gargoyle continued regardless, “Do you really think she’ll want you back if she knew what you did to her father?”

“Gargoy- Wait. What?” I spun around. “What on earth has this got to do with my father?”

“I’ll tell her the truth when she’s ready.” Lock growled from the depths of his throat. The air was getting thicker, the tensions in their shoulders rising.

“What are you talking about? What about my father?” I demanded.

Lock, for the first time, finally looked at me. I stared at him long and hard, trying to read his secrets in his flickering gaze. Gargoyle spoke from behind my back, “Don’t you see? That type of betrayal can never be forgiven. Don’t you think you’ve hurt her enough?”

“It was never my intention…” Lock admitted frustrated.

“Yeah, but you can’t help it. Because you are a demon; a Banished spirit. But, unlike you, I know that death is my only option. I’m not selfish enough to destroy others for my own survival when my life means so little, when I have no greater purpose. You’ll never be anything but a monster.” Gargoyle then turned to me, “Don’t ever forget, Rachael, he is a spirit of corruption. He is only out to trick and manipulate you to survive. There is nothing human left in him.”

“A trick?” Lock repeated as if the word tasted rotten on his tongue, “You think it was just a big ploy for me to control her?”

“It’s in your very nature to destroy. Even now, that chain you have to her throat, you’re killing her and you don’t even care!” Gargoyle roared.

“I do care!” Lock lurched forward.

“If you care so much why are you still even here? You have the ability to leave now, you’re all healed, but you’re not going! Why is that?”

“You know exactly why!” He spoke in a hushed grumble.

“You’re right I do know, because you think Rachael is your plaything. You’re just an empty, cold, unloved boy who is too naïve to see the truth. How could someone love a demon? You’re mistaking pity for something else and it’s pathetic.”

Lock only laughed, “Rich coming from the person doing the exact same thing.”

“Just stop it, the both of you.” I demanded again as both boys ground their teeth. Something that Gargoyle said seemed to linger, making Locks’ intention unclear. “Why are you still here, Lock?”

Lock smirked, bit his lip, and said, “I knew you’d miss me if I left.”

Gargoyle rolled his eyes, “Restocking energy no doubt. How many Hosts have you gone through, hmm? That’s what they do, Rachael, they drain a host so they can survive. That’s why he is here. That’s why he won’t break the chains because you’re a free source of power.”

Lock only glared in response. He didn’t even try to deny it. I clutched at my throat again. The images of the green-eyed monster, of all those nightmares, were suddenly coming back to me. All of those dreams of suffocation, all those fears of the night where torches made from green eyes drilled into my face as I slept. I couldn’t ignore that. I couldn’t forget. 

“He’s right.” I mumbled, “You can’t be trusted.”

Lock bit down on his lower lip and stood there, glaring at me. I felt myself shiver under his watchful eyes. “Watch what you say Rachael, at least I’m not the one who breaks promises.” He turned to leave; only stopping to speak over his shoulder, “I have one last question and I want to you really think before you answer me. Is the Rachael I know still even in there?”

“This is ridiculous.”

Lock growled, “Then humour me.”

I hesitated to answer for a brief moment, “I don’t think so.”  A small smirk curled his mouth but I could see the pain of disappointment in his eyes. He shook his head lightly, again not accepting my answer, and then vanished.