My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators (2 page)

***

Through a packed train and across the streets of Decker Avenue, we finally arrived at our University of Greenmore. The excitement and thrill of being in a university was washed away when our first set of assignments rolled in like relentless waves. Even though I now sat in my literature lecture, all I could hear was the excited buzzing of my classmates discussing the recent ‘apocalypse’ update. This would be the sixth planned sighting of the ‘ghosts’, the other five were a disappointment when the predictions were wrong. Something about this particular sighting was apparently more genuine, which meant it was more likely to actually happen. Bet that’s what they said about the fourth and fifth sightings, too.

To be polite, I joined in distantly with the chatter, trying to buy myself back into the good graces of my classmates considering Janet had so kindly shoved me out by bringing back the rumours of my ‘curse’.  It was like every chance she got she would try to put a fence around me, alienating me more and more from the others. This time was no different.

“No, I swear it’s true. You know she’s marked with bad luck. They call her the Virgin Mary because bad things happen to boys who try to get too close to her. One of my guy friends passed her in the hallway at school and asked some question about the homework. Next thing he knew, he turned around and was mysteriously shoved down the stairs. He sprained his wrist and broke his thumb. He told me he heard a voice hissing in his ear while he was falling.”

“What did it say?” Daniel, another boy from our class was tapping the end of his pen against his notebook, sucked in by her story. I was sitting just a few rows in front, pursing my lips and trying to conjure up some courage to turn to them and say, ‘it’s all lies’. The way I remember the incident, he merely tripped over his own clumsy feet. 

              “That’s the thing, it wasn’t English at all but a horrible groaning noise, like an animal.” Janet had her hand to her lips as if she were trying to mask her voice from carrying across the classroom. They were all murmuring in an excited fear when I couldn’t handle it anymore and turned around.

“It’s not true!” Instead of staying calm and non-fazed, my voice wavered as if I was actually guilty. “He just tripped.”

              “Of course you would say that.” Janet scoffed, “whatever thing you have following you, just make sure it doesn’t come over here.”

              I huffed in irritation. “Believe me, if I had control of any spiritual creature I surely wouldn’t want it hanging around me.”

“I think it’s kind of cool.” Kate perked up from beside me and smiled a weak reassuring smile. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, magnifying her brown eyes behind the lenses.

“Cool? Are you sick? Do you like being shoved down stairs by ghosts?” Janet sneered, rolling her eyes. I shook my head, trying not to let her get the better of me.

              “Don’t worry about her,” Kate patted my arm before she fetched out her notebook. I merely nodded again, swallowing down my annoyance like swallowing foul medicine. If that wasn’t bad enough, on top of three essays and a portfolio that’s due, Mr. Eagles, our philosophy professor, decided to give us some light reading. The word light must’ve been translated wrong somewhere between student to teacher. Light is not fifteen pages. I tried to stay back in the library to knock out a few chapters but it was like I was reading Chinese. 

              Nothing was making sense to me, so I packed up and decided to catch the late train home. It was getting really dark, but underneath the static white blubs in the subway tunnel time felt sluggish. I sat on the bench with my backpack sitting on my lap, waiting for the 9:45 train to rock up. It was late – again - and like a charging pig, I could hear its squealing wheels approaching the station before it came to a jolting stop. I got into the second last carriage with a few other people from my university and some men dressed in business suits.

I took a seat by myself, placing my bag down next to me when an old woman caught my attention. She was sitting opposite but had her face hidden behind her hand, the wrinkles marking her skin multiplying every time she snickered into her palm. She appeared homeless by the rags she wore; and the trolley she carted around with her was filled with blankets, magazines, clothes and rubbish. I didn’t know what she was laughing at but whatever it was it kept her eyes distant and flickering. Though it was rude of me to stare, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. She started to count down in a hoarse whisper.

“Five… four… three… two… one.” As one of the commuters passed by her he suddenly tripped, tossing a handful of papers in the air at the same time the woman whispered, “Now.” She laughed and clapped her hands, stomping her feet and cheering about her successful prediction.

Instinctively, I pressed myself away. That couldn’t be right. I leaned forward a little bit, trying to see if she could’ve stuck her foot out to trip him, but a small shopping trolley blocked her legs.

              “Well done, Rapture, well done! You’re so nasty, Rapture.” She chuckled towards the empty spot in front of her. The man quickly scrambled to pick up his papers. I swallowed loudly, tasting guilt that I didn’t go and help him up. Instead, I just turned my head towards the window and pretended to not have seen anything.

Chapter Two:

My Aunt Robyn’s house was on my way home, and as I checked my watch it ticked over to 10:30 I debated with myself if it was too late to visit. Passing her house was unavoidable, and as I turned on Elm St, I hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder and glanced down at her house on the corner. Her front porch light was on, shining out like a lighthouse directing boats safely across a shadowy sea.

I had just decided against going in when I saw her stepping out carrying two bags of trash. She did a double take when I stepped onto their yard.

“Rachael? What are you doing out so late?” She spoke on an exhale of exhaustion and mild surprise.

              I motioned to my backpack. “I stayed back to catch up on my studying. How have you been?”

“Alright, dear.” Aunt Robyn lifted the can lid off the bin before she dropped the two bags inside and proceeded to wipe her hands down the front of her apron. Her hair was pinned in a bun on the top of her head, the shorter strands slipping through the hair tie. The messy style looked really good on her though, as if she had styled every awkward curl purposely. “Are you hungry?” She asked and I clutched my stomach.

              “I’m starved.”

“Come in, I’ll heat up some leftovers.”

Inside her house was warm with vintage browns and deep gold, painting the room with a gentle feeling of summer. She didn’t live in a big place, just the main lounge, adjoining kitchen and two bedrooms including the master bedroom and bathroom. It was only her and my uncle now, seeing as her children had all grown up with families of their own. Aunt Robyn went straight to the fridge, disappearing behind the door as I lugged my backpack on the ground behind me. I sent a quick text to Kate letting her know where I was and that I was having dinner with my aunt. The smell of lasagne slid through me like a piece of string, starting from my nose and digging down into my stomach.

                “How have you been, dear?” Aunt Robyn set the plate in front of me and took the seat opposite. The gentle lights bearing from above brightened her smile even more, or maybe that was just my happiness coming from eating a hot delicious meal.

“I’m okay.”

“You seem tired.”

“Just a lot of assignments.” I shovelled the food in far too quickly, having to take a mouthful of water to ease the burning in my mouth.

              “Have you been sleeping okay is what I mean?” She leant forward.

My brows furrowed for a moment before I understood her concern. “Mum told you?”

              “She’s just worried, that’s all. You did have a very difficult time.”

                I slumped into the chair. “She makes it sound like I’m crazy.”

              “No one thinks you’re crazy, especially in this day and age. Are you having those dreams again?”

I drew my lower lip into my mouth, sinking back into my memories that I had shoved far into the depths of my mind. The dream of demon eyes. I shivered so much that I rattled in my chair.

“Not for a long time, but I did see it again in the last week… and last night.” My aunt inhaled sharply as if I’d spoken in a foreign tongue before I quickly reassured her. “It was different though. Not as bad. I used to dream that I was being strangled. I remember it so vividly, like something was holding me under water and I couldn’t breathe no matter how hard I try to inhale. I would thrash and thrash till suddenly eyes of green acid poured down on top of me and I would freeze. Then I was so cold, so incredibly cold that I couldn’t even clench my fingers into fists. It felt like death and this demon was bearing down on top of me, inhaling everything that ever made me feel happy and warm. Then the demon would take my breath from me as if it was his to take. But this dream last night was different. I hadn’t seen this demon for many years, so why is he showing up now?”

“If you need to speak to anyone Rachael…”

“Thanks, Aunt Robyn, I know you’ll always be here for me. Please don’t tell my parents though, I don’t want them to worry. Plus, you know what they are like.” 

“Talking about your parents, I’m going to visit them tomorrow night. Did you want to join me? I could pick you up from the university on my way.”

I pressed my lips together remembering the favour Kate was asking for the Whitehaven place. I almost said something too when a car pulled into the driveway and Aunt Robyn twisted in her seat to see out the window.

“Oh, it’s Collin. He’s home already? I thought his flight wasn’t till later.”

I quickly shot a worried look over her shoulder and back to my plate. “Don’t tell me this was his meal?”

My aunt only laughed. “You need it more, dear. Eat, eat, I’ll cook him something else.”

***

I was thankful for my uncle driving me the rest of the way home. The temperature had dropped down to a chilly ten degrees and the winds had picked up, weaving the icy air through my clothes. When I got home, I wasn’t surprised to find Kate back on her spot at the computer, headphones on and her eyes bulging from their sockets. When I walked in, she whipped her headphones down around her neck.

              “Hey, have you thought about it?”

“About what?”

“Us staying in your place. Please, it’s going to be really awesome. The cosmic energy is already collecting over Whitehaven; it’s going to be something massive.” She spun the screen around to face me but I didn’t pay it any attention.

“I haven’t had the chance to ask yet. Dad is really particular about that place.”

                “What? Why?”

              I dropped my backpack on the table and stretched my neck from side to side. “It’s sensitive family business.”

“You can tell me, please?” Kate pressed the monitor of her laptop down so the screen would shut off. I sighed again, running my words across my tongue trying to figure out how I was going to explain this, but there wasn’t really anyway to tiptoe around the topic. So, I just told her the truth, facts and all.

“Eight years ago my cousin was found buried in the backyard of the Whitehaven house. The autopsy indicated that he was already dying of dehydration when a blow to the head killed him. And then he was moved outside and buried. No one could pinpoint how it happened, but my Aunty Ange and Uncle Ray got in serious trouble for child neglect. Apparently, he was locked up in a room and then abandoned. He was only fourteen. We were never really close with that side of the family, so it’s pretty upsetting that we just found out about it a year ago. We don’t like to talk about it.”

              Kate clapped her hands to her mouth, her brows pinched in surprise. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I exhaled loudly, not realising I had been holding my breath. “I’m just upset I never got to meet him. He had two brothers, older. I can’t remember their names or faces. Dad sent me a pic of him, though.” I fetched out my phone and scrolled through the folders, coming to a stop once I reached his picture. Every time I looked at him my mouth would go dry. It was a simple school picture they used in all of the newspaper articles, his image a little blurred and printed in black and grey. “Here. His name was Evan.”

              I passed it over and Kate took the phone, looking at the picture then grabbed at her heart. “Oh my God, he’s so cute. Why would they do that?”

“That’s what dad’s been trying to figure out. Uncle Ray was his older brother, but even so they hardly ever caught up. I only met them once when I was like thirteen or something. Evan was my Aunt’s child from her first marriage, so he wasn’t exactly related to me, but he was still family. It’s also why talk about Whitehaven is taboo.”

“Who knows,” Kate started as she handed back my phone, “Maybe Evan’s spirit is still there?”   

“I sincerely hope not, I really hope he’s free from whatever hell he had to suffer through and he rests in peace.”      

***

All this talk about ghosts may have influenced me more than I would like to admit. I was always so careful to avoid the topic because of my history, but now it was flooding back by the bucket load. It was difficult when I was younger; convinced that a monster was following me, then I had gotten a reputation that I just couldn’t shake. It led to terrible nightmares and paranoia. Last night was another sleepless night. I blamed it for being the reason why I was late to Uni this morning. Kate, having left earlier to get to her debate meeting, wasn’t around to wake me when my alarm failed.

It was another one of those restless sleeps, the type that kept me springing upwards thinking it was later than it actually was. I ended up missing all of my morning classes by the time I actually got to school. That left me to catch up with my professors during my breaks to get the material off them. Then I decided to stay back to play catch up again. Uni is run on such a tight schedule that if you miss a minute you may as well have missed the hour, the moment you fall behind it’s almost impossible to catch up. The classes won’t slow down to let you catch up, not like high school.

This meant I was running late again and was forced to catch the late train home. As routine, I got onto the platform and took a seat near the end on the bench. As soon as I saw the homeless woman I instantly felt myself tighten up. She was sitting on the bench with her head cradled in her hands, muttering and weeping about something under her breath. I checked over both my shoulders to see if anyone else could see her when she loudly hiccupped.

“Please don’t make me,” she was whimpering. She sounded different than last time; more fragile and small. “Please don’t, Rapture, don’t…”

Unease moved through me. I approached her slowly, concern pinching my brows.
Should I say something? What could I possibly say? How could I comfort a woman whose reality is not like my own?
Despite my hesitation, I gulped loudly and took one more step, pausing when I could smell the dirt on her clothes.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” I started when she snapped her gaze upwards.

“Don’t! You’ll step on him!” she barked and I took two steps back immediately. Her face was washed with tears, wrinkles carved into her skin like fingernails dragged through sand. The paleness of her skin was illuminated under the harsh lights, smudging blue and purple into her white tone. It was her eyes though that shocked me the most, how they burned with strained red and were strangely dilated.

“Stop looking at her! Stop it!” the woman addressed the empty space in front of her in a demanding hiss. “I’m not dead yet, you demon.” Then she swivelled her attention back to me, gritting her teeth in a fierce smile. “He likes the way you smell. Rapture thinks it’s nice. Youth. Life. Health. You better scat girl, unless you want to end up like me. Do you want to die? Ha ha ha! Do you want to die? Ha ha ha!” She laughed and coughed a throaty cough, lunging forward into her palm to cover her mouth.

Abruptly, I turned on my heel and made my way back to the other side. I really couldn’t get away fast enough. As I was walking the old woman raised her voice to a shout, “Binding Seven, Mother of us all. She’s dead girl! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!”

***

“That old woman is crazy,” I announced as soon I got home. Kate perked her head up from the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand and her hair pinned back. I cocked my eyebrow, suddenly feeling sick. “Oh no! You’re cooking.”

“Shhh you,” she laughed. “I swear I’m going to follow the recipe this time. What old woman are you talking about?”

              “She catches the 9:45 train from Flinders. I think she’s homeless. Today she started shouting at me about my scent and something called rapture and asked if I wanted to die?”

              “Really? That’s so scary. Did she threaten you?”

              “No, I think she was warning me.”

“That’s so weird. Well, I always said you could do with a shower or two once a in a while,” Kate joked as she returned to the pot.

Dumping my stuff by the door, I kicked off my shoes. “It’s just something she said, it kind of freaked me out.” I got to the kitchen and rested my elbows against the counter top. She was cooking soup tonight, chicken and vegetable. I scratched the back of my neck like a thought was biting me. “I’m sure I’m just getting paranoid again.”

              “Well,” Kate started as she spoke over her shoulder, “we could always take a couple of days off and escape to Whitehaven. It’ll be a nice retreat.”

              “No way! I’m trying to get away from all the crazy ghosts and you want to drag me to the centre of it.”

              “Thought you said it was hogwash.” 

              “It’s the people I want to avoid. I know nothing is going to happen there in terms of supernatural stuff.”

“I dunno, why can’t it be true? Why can’t there be angels living among the light? Watching over us, making sure we’re safe.” Kate lowered her voice as she spoke, probably fleeing away into her imagination of heroic angels emerging from a shaft of sunrays.

If there were angels, the purest of creatures then that would mean there were demons of great evil, and that my dreams weren’t just dreams.

“Because with angels there must be demons.”