My Demonic Ghost: Banished Spirits (8 page)

The lumpy build-up in my throat only seemed to get bigger, making it harder and harder to force the remorse down.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”

I gasped and swallowed my words, as both of his arms slammed the door behind me on either side of my shoulders, before closing the distance and pulling me to him, caged in a firm embrace. It wasn’t an embrace of love or friendship; it felt much more controlled than that, like a possessive snatch or entrapment. He would’ve squashed me if his grip was any tighter; his arms were thin but strong, flexing underneath his soft skin. I felt my elbows buckle underneath his narrowing grip.

His head lowered very slowly into the dip of my neck, rustling the length of my hair. The beating of my heart roared with yearning, pumping the flow of blood through me, making my fingers and toes twitch. I was only half aware of the softening of his body as he reacted to mine. His throttling grip slowly and faintly morphed into a caress, no longer strangling, his body embracing my curves. And then, in a voice that didn’t match the softness of his touch, he hissed, “He followed you here…”

Chapter Nine:

The support behind me was suddenly pushed away, rocking my body with it as Lock’s steady breath rose and passed over my shoulders. He had opened the door behind me, inviting a tickle of breeze back in. His grip dropped as he stepped around me.

There was a bystander near the trees at the end of the drive way, watching us. But instead of turning and strolling away, the stranger tilted his head so his fiery red hair ruffled.

“Well, well, well,” Elyograg’s voice rode along the wind. It felt like he was standing right next to me, whispering those words directly into my ear, “If this isn’t a sight to see.”

Lock tensed next to me before brushing against my stomach, to stand as a bulwark between Elyograg and me. His hand glided behind his back, fingers patting my stomach, before stiffening and pushing me back deeper into the hallway. In my surprise, I couldn’t stop my feet as I stumbled backwards from the force.

“Wait. What’s going on?” I whispered, “Do you know each other?”

“What do you think?” I paused for a moment, whipping my head from Lock to Elyograg, then back to Lock again.  Before I could open my mouth to answer, Elyograg stiffened and Lock jerked his neck up, all of this so subtle and swift that it looked as though they moved in sync.

“I am not here on business, Banished.” Elyograg smiled and bowed his head gently, muffling a chuckle, before redirecting his eyes up towards me. He kept them there for a while and I stared back, fighting the urge to swoon in admiration.

“Your kind is always on business!”

“So, this is your Host? How unfortunate for you both.”
Host, was that my name now?
“I’m sorry that you got mixed up in this predicament, but I assure you I am not here to harm either of you. My real name is Gargoyle, and it is my purpose to collect the…” He searched the sky for a better suited word, “
misguided
souls and retrieve them back to their appropriate places.” Lock growled at the mention of his ‘appropriate’ place. We all knew what he meant, but no one was going to utter the word.

”Then what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I owed a debt…” Gargoyle sneered and took a step forward. A beam of white light broke through the soft string of grey clouds crossing the sky, sprinkling down on top of the garden, spreading its wings and coating Gargoyle and the trees like a second layer of skin. Where the light stroked across Gargoyle’s form, a harsher glowing white started to foam and bounce off his skin, flickering like the reflection off a metallic plate, shifting the beams with every angle you tilt it.

As the sun kept crawling, slowly and peacefully, it engulfed his entire body so the white glow became an outer layer of cloud and his heavily gelled hair softened to feathers, bouncing with harsh red neon. His eyes heightened, just as Lock’s had been heightened in his Spirit form, into vibrant living eyes, dancing with a wealth of gold and small hints of oak wood. They weren’t wild like Lock’s, capturing and striking, able to take the breath out of you and knock you on your back; instead these eyes melted your face and swallowed you into a heavenly sense of security, so blissful and hopeful that you wanted to embrace them fully, not poke at their sharp edges.

I’d been so distracted that I hadn’t noticed how the distance between us had been shortened by Gargoyle’s quick steps. Lock had noticed though. He reacted by tensing his entire body and trembling, imagining how he would’ve loved to tackle Gargoyle so ferociously that his spine would snap. Gargoyle ignored Lock’s hostile stance and stood within metres of the front door. I took a step back, cautiously blinking my eyes twice, clearing the haze away.

“Hey!” Lock abruptly barked, “Step back, Hunter!”

Hunter?
I had pictured Hunters to be older, much older, tough skinned men dressed in heavy cloaks and weapons strapped across their belts. The Hunters, they were supposed to be the bad guys, the one with thick, stubbly beards, controlling the Goons with whips and lashes.
Why did he look like the good guy?

“Little spirit, you are no threat to me in that state; surely you know that as well as I do.” Gargoyle grinned and reached his hand out, aiming for Lock’s throat. But his hand then dipped down even further and lightly touched mine, the soft ribbon of his fingers caressing my knuckles, leaving a trail of tinging warmth bubbling under my skin.

Lock grinned at the extended hand. Before Gargoyle’s fingers could fully ring around my own, I snapped my hand back, but not before Lock swung outwards with his own, the power so rapid it could’ve broken his wrist as he knocked Gargoyle’s shoulder away. 

“Don’t get cocky, Hunter.” Gargoyle’s smile dropped as he stumbled onto his back foot. Lock leaned in closer, his voice deep with rage, “And don’t you dare touch what’s mine ever again.”

My cheeks burned as Gargoyle turned swiftly on his heel, unimpressed. As he walked back into the trees, his eyes rolled upward as the light skimmed along the branches arching and sheltering him into the shade; his skin, eyes, and hair slipping away from its angelic glow and back into normal.

“Right.” Gargoyle glanced over his shoulder, “My debt has been repaid for now, you’d best pray I never come across you again. Next time I won’t be so kind...”

Lock tilted his head in question, but Gargoyle had already stepped back into the passing breeze, shattering into white sparks. Under the soft light you could hardly see the last vestiges flickering away in the breeze.

I waited for Lock to speak but he stood completely still, face turned away, watching. My fingers twitched with eagerness, a driving force that made me want to usher Lock back indoors.

“Lock, I think you should come back inside,” I suggested. But Lock didn’t react to my warnings and instead kept completely still. Then, he turned to face me once more, moving ever so delicately like he was stepping on brittle egg shells.

“I think they’re distracted…”

“Who’s distracted?”

“They are,
the Hunters,
they can’t get me because… something else is happening… they’re distracted.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because of what that stupid Hunter just did. I don’t know why, but he showed it to me…Hunters don’t usually stay on the surface because they can’t hide like we do. They are too obvious and stand out from all the other humans. So, when he stepped into the sun light and revealed what he really was, the other Hunters didn’t teleport him back; they didn’t hide him from you… They’re not watching the daylight…”

That’s right! Just like how everyone turned and watched Gargoyle at the market place; having that type of attention all the time would be too risky.

“I don’t know how long this will last for. We need to start moving now.”

“But what will that do?”

“They know where I am, where your house is, and how to find us. If we move, if we run far away from here, then they wouldn’t be able to track us.” With his mind made up, Lock grabbed my hand, pulling me forward. I tripped over myself as Lock bounded through the front door and into the open parking space. The cool breeze was lost behind the vise-like grip of Lock’s icy hands.

The sun was chequered by clouds, which were crawling sideways allowing small patches of radiance to spill out the gaps. I watched the soft shaft of light breaking through the holes and cutting out, like the flickering of a faulty light, as Lock moved obliviously onwards. I started to pull back, nearing the end of the driveway and Lock slowed in reaction, feeling the backwards protest of my weight.

He slowed, tossed his head over his shoulder, and glanced towards me questionably.

“Lock we can’t…” I trailed off, not knowing what fury may burst through him if I spoke. He was like a game of Russian roulette, never knowing which cylinder had the bullet until you held it to your head and pulled the trigger. I couldn’t just run off, it was stupid and idiotic and could only cause further problems. What would we do? Where would we go? And Mum, how would that look? She’ll panic, she’ll hire the entire police force and detective squad to track me down, and when they do find me, what would I say?
Sorry Mum, but I had to run away with this strange boy because of reasons that I cannot tell you, hope that’s okay.

Lock paused and nodded, frustrated but understanding.

“When that woman gets back tell her you need to go somewhere. That it’s ‘important’ and you can’t miss it,” he ordered.

I felt unsure. Would she let me go? Probably. She did allow me to come here on my own, but then what? Sit underneath a bridge, waiting for the Staff to find us along with food and water?

“We can stay at the house back in the city.”

It was weird how different these two worlds were, the city and Whitehaven, it seemed impossible that they belong on the same planet. I felt very homesick, subconsciously massaging my stomach to comfort myself; I missed my bedroom, the warped couch cushions that were adapted to fit our curves, the smell and the familiarity of being able to just slouch around. “You can hide out here when she gets back-”

His lower lip stiffened. “I have to hide?”

“It’ll be easier if she doesn’t meet you; too much explaining and lying, otherwise.”

“Okay, but just letting you know, I don’t want to have to hide all the time. We can be seen together, right?”

“Of course.”

Chapter Ten:

We went back inside to wait for Mum to return. Lock was annoyed that we were wasting so much time, but he couldn’t very well carry me to the station on his back so he sat down, irritated.

“While we wait, do you want anything to eat or drink?”

Lock lowered himself into the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. His eyes were set on the window, looking out as though he was lost. I packed my things while I tried to think of an excuse to tell Mum, thumbing through my plans at the same time I thumbed through my books, packing and sealing each idea with a novel. I made sure to leave half my gear behind for my return.  The days past had seemed frightfully short; it was scary to think that about four days had already gone by since I’d become Lock’s Host. Four days of my life… four days closer to my grave.

I looked down at my hands, then at my half stuffed bag and felt my brow twitch when I thought of what life would be like now. I was partnered with a furtive Banished ghost; being hunted by spirits that I never knew existed. The Staff could be anywhere, and hiding in the city was useless if Lock had to stick to the shadows every time we went outside. He needed a cover or a jumper so we could blend in and move freely.

I shuffled through the cupboards that sat on the far left side of my room. Inside were abandoned garments left behind from the last owners, my Uncle Ray and his family. This had been one of the boys’ rooms.
They must’ve left in a hurry then, if all their clothes are still here.
But I didn’t read too much into it, they left for a reason that suited them and that was that.

I pulled out a large dim hoodie, a dark emerald green colour and took it downstairs to Lock. I smiled at him but he didn’t look at me, he only took the jumper and threw it over his head.

I huffed and moved into the kitchen, clearing plates and cups away. I pulled the curtains back from the window over the sink and turned on my toes, nearly banging heads with Lock who was watching me over the back of my shoulder. He snarled, “Hey watch it!” and sourly patted his nose.

“Well, why are you always standing so close to me?” I snapped back just as harshly.

Lock ignored me and my question. 

“Don’t you care about how I died?” His words, they weren’t full of venom, hate or loathing, they weren’t even filled with pain; they were just innocent, pure and curious, just as though he was asking for a drink of water or how my day was going.

“I didn’t think you would want to tell me…”

Myths claimed that ghosts carry with them the final image of themselves to the afterlife and that often included their clothing, hair style, age, and of course, last injuries. But Lock had no rope burns, slits across the wrists, bullet wounds, open gashes, or anything that could indicate foul play, so his death did actually strike me as strange. An illness, perhaps, or maybe even poison could’ve taken him.

“Would you like to tell me? How did you die?” I didn’t know anything about him, only that he was a Banished ghost and his name was Lock. Oh, and of course, that Betrayal was his sister. “Betrayal told me that you two were siblings.”

Lock cocked an eyebrow, now shifting his body so he could lean leisurely up against the kitchen counter, both hands tucked behind himself and his elbows poking outwards. He looked away, trapped in his own thoughts, and I could read the conflict in his eyes as they jumped around his eye sockets, searching for a missing signal.

“Betrayal lied.”

“Lied? About what?”

“Us, that we are siblings. She isn’t my sister.”

“Why would she lie?” I asked.

“Because she can’t remember her human life; she doesn’t have anyone, and I don’t have anyone. So she likes to think of me as her little brother, but she really isn’t related to me at all”. He paused for a moment and tilted his head upwards, his pinkish lips moving softly, “It’s for the best if Banished spirits forget I, guess...”

“Do you remember your human life?” I added.

“Yeah, bits and pieces of it. But I haven’t been in the spirit form for as long as her, and the longer you stay the harder it is to remember.”

“Tell me about yourself, I would really love to know…” I held my breath for his answer. I was dying to know what Lock was about, why he became a ghost in the first place. I felt robbed about how little I actually knew and considering how much I cared for him, it seemed a little stupid. He knew so much about me and I didn’t even have to open my mouth.

“I remember her story… Betrayal’s… Do you know Betrayal isn’t her real name? It’s only her spirit name. Lock isn’t my real name either…”
Damn, there goes another thing I don’t know about him!!!

RRRIINNNGG!!
The phone shrilled at us from the corner of the kitchen. I motioned for my finger that I’ll only be a minute, but he didn’t seem bothered and moved back towards the lounge room. I ran to the phone, annoyed and, ripped it off its hook as it rattled in response.

“Yes, hello?”

“Ah, yes, good afternoon. May I speak to the owner of the house?” It was just a survey caller. I told them that the owner’s weren’t home, and to call back at a more convenient time before hanging up, not in the mood to pretend to be interested. I went back to the lounge in hopes of rousing Lock back into conversation. But I paused in mid breath, mid step and mid thought, looking upon a new face entering our circle. She looked at Lock, then back at me, the front door still swinging to a shut behind her. Lock smiled, cheekily, as if he knew something which we both did not, and sat himself back down.

I couldn’t stop the croak in my voice, watching and waiting for something, anything to distract her from him, but she didn’t tear her eyes away for a second.
Still, I guess it wouldn’t have mattered.

“Mum… what are you doing back so soon?”

As Dianne walked in, flustered, she dumped her purse onto the table with a steady thump, slowly edging around the chairs.

“Rachael… what’s going on?” She was eyeing Lock as he stared blankly outside, not moving from his slouched position, as if she had never entered the house at all. She spoke in a whisper, probably in hopes that he had terrible hearing, despite him only sitting two metres away.

“I, err, this is my friend Lock. He just needed to borrow the phone for a moment…” Lock looked over at Mum and, on cue, slipped on his dashing grin. Mum smiled back in automatic response.

“Oh, okay it’s over there if you still need to use it…” She motioned to the phone which Lock stood and walked towards it gracefully, tipping his head in thanks.

“Umm, Mum, can I ask a favour of you?”

“Yes dear, what is it?” Her eyes were still on him, and I was sure he was conscious of her trailing gaze before he turned the corner.

“It’s about my friend, back in the city. She’s in hospital for breaking her leg and I want to go and visit her.”
That’s believable right? It’s serious, but not too serious .
She shook her head loosely and looked over at me.

“Oh, that’s terrible, Rach. Who’s hurt?” I paused for a minute too long.

“Oh, umm, it was Jess.” The taste of guilt flooded my mouth. Jess was my tall Asian friend who was extremely clumsy and wore bruises like jewellery.

“Do you want me to come?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just stay at the apartment for a few days and stuff…” A loud cough erupted from the kitchen, loud enough to sound fake as we both glanced over towards the door. Lock’s head appeared momentarily.

“Oh, sorry, your phone just cut out. Rach, can you help me please?”

“Oh,”
Did I do something wrong?
I fidgeted uncertainly. “Okay, sure just one sec…” I glanced at Mum and she didn’t seem bothered, already turning her attention from Lock and back towards her handbag. Just as I entered the kitchen, his hands yanked me harshly inside, his fingers ringing firmly around my arms.

“A few days?” he hissed, inches from my face.

“I can’t tell her a week; she’ll never let me stay that long!” I whispered back, my voice slightly higher than his as he hushed me with a stern frown.

“That’s not enough time, we need to draw
them
away from this house, and if we can just stay for a while longer then they may just think we’ve moved along…”

“How about this then, when I get there I’ll request a longer stay?”

It didn’t seem like that bad of an idea; if worst comes to worst then she’ll just have to drag me back to Whitehaven herself, and that in itself will buy us some time.

“Okay, I guess that means we can leave now, but make sure my Mum sees us heading down two different paths. You go towards the town and I’ll go back to the station, then you can just sneak through the back houses until we meet on the dirt path.”

Lock nodded promptly and turned to face the door. Before he left, my hand shot out and stopped him, “Please be careful.” He nodded again, a little slower, biting down his lower lip and shaking my arm free from his jumper. He entered the lounge room first and greeted Mum with a bowed head, saying his thanks in a whispered breath as she waved politely back. Before walking outside he slipped the hood over himself so his face was cast into shade, being careful, just as I wanted him to.

I went upstairs, waiting for a few minutes before walking back down and to the front door, my bag in tow. I waved and kissed Mum goodbye, but she pulled me back before I could leave.

“Wait a second, who was that boy?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively and I cringed. He was younger than me… and dead, but I suppose she didn’t know about that last fact.

“Oh, you mean Lock? He just some kid who needed to use the phone. I dunno.” I shrugged.

“There was just something… strange about him. I can’t explain it… He didn’t look familiar to you?”

“No, I just met him.” Again, another shrug, this time unhooking her fingers and letting my shoulders glide free. I made for the door and pushed it open, the wheels of my luggage clicking against the floorboards. My luggage was lighter as I’d only packed my essentials this time and before long it was rocking quickly over the pebbles along the dirt path. Lock approached me from behind a tree at the entrance of the pathway, his head still masked by the large hood.

“Come on, we don’t have much time to lose.” He was right; the clouds were breaking as the day reached its peak and the heat was building underneath the bulk of my clothes.

We reached the station in silence and bought two tickets for the train into the city. As we waited, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Lock sat fidgeting, jerking at every noise.

“Are you nervous?” I asked softly. He shook his head roughly and glanced back up at me. Three slim fingers emerged from behind the cuffs of his sleeves before taking hold of his hood and tilting it back just far enough to expose his eyes.

“No, are you?”

The colours of his irises were dark, rich and mysterious, like rare jades. I shook my head; enough to feel the wisps of my hair caress my cheek before sensing the sudden icy chill of Lock’s hand as he captured the loose strands, fondling them between the ends of his fingertips. “Good,” he whispered before dropping his hold.

Lock yanked on the tip of his hood, pulling it down past his nose, before scooting an inch further away.

The train took about an hour to arrive, in which time Lock and I exchanged small talk, complaining about the weather, about the people, about boredom, before stepping into the carriage and taking seats in the shadows, facing each other. He kept his head turned and watched out the window. The sun sat on the other side of the carriage, only stretching over the end two seats.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

I leaned toward him with my lips itching for answers, “These Royals… are they Gods?”

“Not exactly…. They may have more power than normal spirits but they are not creators. The Royal spirit who is in charge now, is called Miira. That’s all I know.”

“Miira… sounds like a woman’s name.”

“Could be. But the Royals don’t stay in power forever; Miira is just the one in charge at the moment. She’s the one who set up this Banished curse.”

I raised my brows. “Why would she do that?”

“To keep her power, of course. She needs to be powerful otherwise another Royal will knock her off the throne.”

“So how long as Miira been in charge then?”

“A long time… Before her I heard it was a spirit called Tydant or something… Politics,” he shrugged.

I scratched my neck and glanced around wearily, dropping my voice into a whisper, “Can I ask you another question…What is it like to die?”

He raised his eyebrows, but quickly rearranged his wrinkleless face, and turning his head back to the window, trying to collect his thoughts. The deep surge of concentration penetrated his eyes, un-focusing his pupils until they glazed over with an invisible skin.

“I can’t really remember…. It’s like you don’t even know that it’s happening.” He kept his eyes directed outward as if reading the words off a script, “Things go black and when you open your eyes again, it’s just as if you had awakened from a deep sleep. You lose all sense about who you are, where you are, and what you’re supposed to do... But then you become overpowered by the basic instinct to survive, and to survive you have to hunt. There’s no need to be able to talk, or think, your feet move on their own and everything just happens.” He shrugged heavily before adding, “You know everything about what you are looking for physically but at the same time you know nothing, you’re running and looking blindingly like some wild animal.”