My Demonic Ghost: Banished Spirits (12 page)

“Then why haven’t you already done if it’s that easy?” Lock questioned suspiciously.

“Coward,” Howl shrugged.

I shook my head objecting, “I don’t trust this Spirit, Lock. Something else is up.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Lock, you know that.” He put one arm over Lock’s shoulder, placing it carefully so he wouldn’t slip through. Lock glanced up to his face, then to mine, swinging his eyes back and forth like he was considering which shoulder fairy to listen to, the good one or the bad one.

“Alright,” he said, listening to the bad one. “We’ll give it a shot…”

“What? No, no way, this is stupid!” I protested angrily.

“Rachael, don’t worry, the Sins are within the Spiritual Realm. You won’t have to come with me.”

“That’s not what I meant at all.” I crumbled in hopelessness.

“Actually,” Howl held up his hand, “I don’t know about that Lock. Can you change into Spirit form on your own?”

Lock hesitated, the drop in his shoulders showing that he already knew the answer to that question, “No…”

“Looks like you’ll be going in together after all,” Howl grinned but then suddenly paused, leaning sideways, snatching at an invisible string and yanking it forward, which was followed by a distressed yelp from the priest behind us.

I glanced over as the older man was spun around facing the graveyard. Howl chuckled and shook his head disapprovingly, muttering ‘tsk tsk!’ under his breath. The priest got only two steps closer to the back door before Howl caught him by the chains and dragged him back into place, back into the dirt, the thump of his body crashing into the ground making me shiver. I was lucky to have Lock, lucky that he didn’t turn to violence when dealing with my protests, glad that he is compromising for me even when he could just as easily swing me around like a toy.

“Well, if that’s the case I suppose we can just go to another church,” Lock mumbled sourly with slumped shoulders, his depression as contagious as a cold, flooding underneath my eyes, causing them to itch.

“No!” I bellowed. “No, this is fine, we’ll try it. We’ll try anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, we made a deal, remember? You have my full cooperation,” I grinned and winked at him.

“Okay so what do we have to do?” He directed his face back towards Howl.

“Ah, yes well,” he stroked his chin, looking important, “Ask the spirit Mother to take you to the Sins, you’ll get to do one Sin per night but at your choosing. Of course, when getting there, first things first; prick the Sin and collect the blood droplet,” he looked at me with a mocking grin, “just the one droplet. Once you’ve collected them all, after the last Sin’s blood has been spilled, you’ll be spared from Miira’s Wrath...it’s like an immunity card. Even if you haven’t died yet, you’ll have become almost untouchable.” This was turning out to be a better plan than our original one; now Lock can be transported away from the dangers of becoming charcoal for Miira’s fuel tank, and I, too, will be spared when I do pass on; and I plan on living to be very old.

“Alright, we’ll do it,” Lock clenched his jaw in a toothy grin.

“Tonight, then?” Howl questioned.

“Definitely.”

“I’ll be there,” he informed, and to our confused expression he very plainly explained, “you know, as a safety net. Just in case something goes wrong…”

“Thought you were a coward?” Lock grinned gingerly.

“Oh I am, but I’m getting in on this free ticket if it does work. No matter what,” Howl admitted and rubbed his hands greedily together. The priest groaned in pain and Howl lashed out with the chain again, burying his head back into the dirt. “Shut up!” He snarled before glancing out over the fence.

“I’ll come by later tonight. I’m gonna have to go hunting again, this guy won’t last me long. He smells disgusting.”

Chapter Thirteen:

Night fell fast.  Lock spent most of the day pacing the kitchen, practising his calls and stretching his muscles, readying for combat. I had another routine to prepare myself, and was debating where to stand while Lock did all the work collecting the blood droplets. I was going to be useless, we both knew that.

              My knuckles tightened as I replayed Howl’s words over again in my head, speaking of the priest with such disgust that it sounded like he had dirt in his mouth.
If this didn’t work and Lock had to remain with me till the end of my days, would I be any different to the old lady in the grave yard, missed one second and thrown out the next? Even after dedicating so much of her life to this spirit, until the very last breath, only to have him abandon her where she dropped…
I tensed again not wanting to think about it.

As the sun disappeared and the hood of Lock’s jumper was thrown back, he stopped his pacing, turning his attention towards the city streets outside. He sat on the couch with his elbows up and his eyes casted down. I climbed up next to him and looked out across the city as well.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay with this?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about me; I’m stronger than I look.”

“But not in that form. You can’t touch the spirits…”

“But it’s okay because you’ll be with me.” I tilted my head towards him to see his heavy green eyes sitting on my nose. He quickly glanced up, making eye contact, but only for a second as he abruptly coughed and faced the streetlights again.

“What’s the deal with Howl, anyway?”

Lock chuckled wistfully, “He is really bothersome, but us Banished need all the help we can get.”

“But, like what’s his story?” I questioned again.

“I think he hit a kid while driving when he was 25. It was an accident and the kid died on impact. The parents forgave him eventually, seeing how sorry he was, but that doesn’t change a thing when it comes to Miira’s rule.  As for how he actually died, well I’m guessing he got shot.” Lock shrugged, “I dunno what type of person he grew into, but he hated himself and therefore was hated in return. He was a greedy man, very greedy, and so it was only a matter of time…” Lock trailed off with another careless shrug.

“Oh…” I whispered back, turning back to the streets.

There was a cover of tranquil stillness lingering over our shoulders. My exhaling breath blew my bangs up, sweeping them off my face as I leaned outward, resting my head on top of my elbows as Lock shifted in time with me, moving when I moved, so that even our breaths became synched.

“Hey, what’s going on? Come let’s go.” Howl’s voice interrupted our warm quiet, digging his rough voice in like fingers clawing through a pile of mud. His Host wasn’t with him and he looked anxious about being apart.

“Where’s your Host?” I asked bitterly.

“Well, sweet cakes, may help if you let him in,” Howl grumbled, motioning to the door with a tilt of his head. I walked to the door and lifted the phone, calling down at the front gate where the other line was snatched at quickly, a male voice breathing back into the receiver.

“H-Hello?” He was terrified.

“Hello, are you here with Howl?” He answered with a stuttering ‘Yes’.

“Okay, come up. We’re on the third level fourteenth door; I’m Rachael by the way.”

“I’m Jake, thanks.”  The dial tickled my ears as he slammed the phone down, missing the first go as I heard it topple over and swing by its neck before he grunted and hooked it into place. I returned back into the kitchen to find Lock standing alone, arms folded across his chest, staring past me and onto the front door. There was no trace of Howl. I figured he had returned to Jake’s side, unable to stand being away from him for any longer. That anxious excitement was drained from Lock’s cheeks as he stood now without as much as a twitch on his lips, completely stiff and serious.

There was a quick knock before the knob was rattled and pushed open. Jake walked in with caution. He was a bit older than me, probably by about four years and had oily white skin, glistening with perspiration and dampening the fringe of his ginger hair. He was chubby but not overweight, a heavily built boy with a black t-shirt that had a rock band slogan scribbled over it in white. He waddled in alone and ran a thick wrist across his forehead, collecting the build-up of moisture and wiping it across his army three quarter pants.

He edged wearily around Lock, who only kept eye contact for the joy of watching him squirm.

He tightened up when spotting me, closing his hands into fists and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
Poor Jake…
I felt sorry for him. I offered him a seat, quickly, before he fainted.

“Hello Jake, do you want something to drink?” I grinned and he wheezed into his sweaty fist, his face blooming scarlet under my cautious stare. He smiled back weakly and instantly dropped his gaze, shivering in fear and wiping his face as the red lick faded back into white. I glanced back at Lock to notice he was glaring now, offended by something Jake had done that I’d missed. The plump boy went rigid and Howl burst through his chest.

“Ease up there, Lock, or you’ll frighten the boy to death. His heart sounds like he’s running a damn marathon; not that he could run one judging by that gut hangin’ out of his shirt!” Howl chuckled at Lock who sneered but kept his snake green eyes on Jake’s face, burning each layer of skin with every blink.

Howl still seemed to be on edge though it may just have been the reflection of Jake’s worries appearing in Howl’s behaviour, so I didn’t read too much into it. The room fell silent as Lock flicked all the lights off. Howl held his hand out and Lock mimicked him, their arms stretched in front of them and facing palm down, fingers spread until they were strained and white.

A hot whisper hissed out through their clenched teeth, spitting like sparks of venom and flame, “Binding seven, mother of us all, move through darkness and reveal my truths. Reveal to me your curse of sins; show me my nature at the hands of demons.”

A visible dark sheet began crawling across the floor and walls like an untouchable black wave before tightening into a singular line down the middle of the floor space. I stepped forward to Lock’s side as Howl quickly jumped back, folding into thousands of ash particles and diving back towards Jake.

Jake was stunned, gripping the bottom of the chair with such strength that he could’ve punctured his fingers through the wood.

The thin shadow started to stretch, long skeletal arms expanding from its thickening body, pushing and shoving further and harder against its boundaries as if trying to stretch free from a tight sac. The line grew until it wasn’t a line anymore but an oval distortion growing darker into silvery, swamp colours; cracking a hole where a neck began sprouting. The neckline shot up and hardened into solid form, about a foot and a half from its torso, where a head sat atop with hair of thick black ooze rained down. The body snapped and cracked underneath its self, and with each bone-shattering break, I felt my body flinch.  I could feel my heart flutter as the beast of the dark rebuilt itself in the very shadows of my home.

The body materialised, forming a bulky waistline that curled out into a long eel’s tail. Above its shoulders, more cracks could be heard, before seven inhumanly long arms sprouted,  fanning out like wings; in each hand it held a different wooden mask.

I couldn’t see its face but I could hear the clicking of its tongue; running along its jagged fangs and echoing through the depths of its hollow mouth. 
Click-Clickety click clack .Click clack. Clickety-clack clack.

“Whoa...” Lock stepped backwards, alarm ringing in his eyes. “Mother, takes us to the Sins….”

The serpent woman rolled her tongue in a series of clicks, the large, thick branched tail having to loop over its self as it couldn’t fit inside my lounge room. The ink dripped off her face, forming puddles on the floor with soft fat splats, the same sound as porridge plopping out of an upended bowl. Her face was completely covered, but I could tell this beast was a woman by its curved figure, the breasts on its chest concealed behind snake scales.

              Her elbows were bent upward so she was holding the seven masks above her head. The masks were made of heavy dark wood but the faces were not human. Lock inhaled, exhaled, and then glanced at me, offering out his hand. The serpent flicked its tongue, amused by us. 

“Which one?” he asked. I chose the one with the least alarming face, the flattest mask that had a wrinkled line and no eyes.

Mother shifted, the cracking orchestra trembling through to my bones before she cupped the mask over her face. The ink swallowed it greedily as it disappeared. I watched and waited, waiting for something to appear or explode out in front of me. But nothing happened. I glanced anxiously towards Lock fearful that I was left behind, but he was doubled over, coughing into his palm.

Surrounding us was a stench of nose burning odours, the smell was so strong I had to dry retch into my hand and spit onto the ground to clear out the taste. To explain such an odour was impossible because these smells did not belong in the human world, but for the sake of familiarity, I tried to pick out the ingredients by taking quick whiffs
. Sewage… burnt hair….expired eggs mixed in with gasoline…melted rubber baked over fried mayonnaise, and of course, a heavy, thick jelly of  sweat wrapped in a coating of dead corpses and stuffed in a locker full of old gym socks.
The fumes had even started to impair my other senses as breathing became unbearable, my eyes swelling to a close as the aroma sizzled off the ground, sinking deeply into my clothes and skin, completely permeating me.

The floor boards had turned into dirt under my feet; the couch and TV became a mountain of mud and the apartment exploded into a massive junkyard. A flat landscape stretched out beyond what the human eye could see, the mountains and mountains of trash towering so high into the sky that even the air carried its weight, turning it a murky brown.

“Ah! Yuck this is disgusting!” I bent forward as I felt my dinner trying to climb back up to take a sneak peek. It hurt to inhale each breath so I tried to limit my breathing, but the longer I held my breath, the more oxygen I needed. My next gulp shot a painful trembling through my neck; like having the barrel of a gun held down your throat, but instead of bullets they’re firing ninja stars that bounce back up like a yo-yo after hitting your stomach. 

“Ah, this is sick, gross!” Lock spat into the dirt while still trying to cover his nose.

“Where are we?” I asked through my palm but my words were muffled. The explosion of metal and rubbish nests sat like a fog, my vision throbbing, like the smell acting like tiny clusters of dirt grains scratching under my eyelids. I dry heaved once more as I sucked in air, burping it back out.

“I dunno,” Lock admitted.

We walked on carefully, our hands still masking our faces and our eyes squinting up through the harsh haze reflecting off the ground. In front of us were a couple of tiny creatures, their heads reaching the height of our hips; they were half one animal and half another, their bodies stumpy with strong massive limbs that didn’t reach far enough to touch their toes. They snapped at our ankles but weren’t threatened enough by us to slow their pace. We pursued them as they wobbled deeper into the minefield of garbage until they joined a herd of other hybrids.

              The creatures were gnawing the air, climbing on each other’s backs, and thrashing their bodies as if they were rocking out to some hard-core screaming band. Above them all was another beast who, at first glance, looked to be a crowd surfing on top of the other’s shoulders; upon further inspection, I could see that it was only one being. This beast looked like a folded carcass of ripe leather and skin, as if herds of hippos and elephants had been skinned and sewn back together into a discoloured quilt. The creature was massive, perhaps the size of a large four wheel drive truck and much thicker.

“Ah, I know who this is now.” Lock’s elbow gave me a quick stab, “This is Gluttony.”

Gluttony stood for the immoral temptation to consume more then we need; this usually referred to food resources. The other Sins were Lust, Vanity, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, and Envy. They weren’t called the Seven Deadly Sins for nothing; they meant trouble, big trouble.

It seemed fitting that we wound up in a garbage tip for Gluttony. I couldn’t pick out the head of the Sin from the rest of its body, watching as it was carried on the shoulders of the smaller creatures.

Lock and I traced her movements and waited for Gluttony to leave the attentions of the mob. With its weight and size there was no way the bulk could physically defend itself, even if its best attack was to roll over and squash us. If we stayed on our toes there shouldn’t be any problems.

“Okay, looks like they are finally breaking away.” It had been a good ten minutes of spying before Gluttony finally started breaking away from the rest of the crowd, by which time Lock had rolled his sleeves up in readiness. “You can just stand over there.”

I nodded promptly. The demons were too far away to pay us any attention; they had already dumped their Queen at a secluded area, straight in front of a banquet of trash and toxic waste. The smell only got stronger with each step we took closer.

“Be careful…” I moved with him until we hit a fork in the path next to the walls the trash. I hid near the path as Lock crept onward, his back arched and his steps delicate and nimble, not leaving a single print.