Who you gonna call? (Open)

“I don’t remember saying anything to anyone about our…problem.”

John just smiled at Sebastian Moran, the owner of the old house he stood in front of at the moment. He knew it would awkward showing up on the doorstep the way he did in the middle of the night, but the Shaman had a good reason to be here, a desperate one in fact. If he could have waited till morning John would have waited and made his case during the sun rise. The issue was Mr. Moran’s ‘problem’ wouldn’t wait till morning. He and his family were in danger, extreme danger.

“I find it in these cases Mr. Moran that one lets slips the secret at the worst moments. You may have said something off hand to someone and the words made a crooked line all the way to me.” The Shaman said trying to soothe the man and his suspicion.

“Please, call me Sebastian. You might as well for taking time to come and help us.”

“All right, Sebastian, please call me John. All my friends do, ”

What John wanted to say was strikingly different from what he did say to Sebastian. It was unusual for him to keep news like this away from the ones who needed to hear it, but John just wanted to have them out of the house and on their way. What was in the house wanted them, wanted to destroy them, and he was here to stop that. To tell the man a spirit form the Lower World had warned the Shaman on a Journey that his family was being stalked by a malevolent energy would cause more hysteria then help. All Sebastian knew was his house was probably haunted. Maybe a lone spirit had taken up residence and needed prodding to leave.

He couldn’t be farther from the truth John was told.

On occasion when a person pass on form this world they do not leave but remain behind becoming what we all ghosts. They may have some attachment to this world that they refuse to let go of or in some cases they do not know they have died. Then, and it is not as rare as one thinks, a person of malignant or heinous nature passes on and their spirit stays behind. These ghosts can haunt and terrorize those who are unfortunate to wander across them. Most of these ‘malignant’ ghosts unleash the pain and anger they felt in life on the living because they cannot or will not find peace in death.

Here though, was not the case. There was something very wrong here in this old house. John could feel the energy of the house and it was dark. The Shaman watched Sebastian load his family into an old car before coming over.

“When will you know something John?”

“Soon I hope maybe tomorrow or the next day. I’ll get in touch with you when I know more Sebastian. ”

“Okay John, take care.” Sebastian said handing over the key to the house.

John watched them drive away then turned his attention back to the house. He could see the energy of the house now; it almost looked like an aura of a human. Large swatches of black and grey floated here and there. The air smelled off, an odor of corruptness that lingered just on the edge of the foul breeze.

It was time to meet you John thought.

I have experienced many things over my life, some providing blissful pleasure and some providing extreme pain. I have been shot, stabbed, and even burned by a hot iron for not answering a question about my Captain and a certain regal lady. I once thought there was nothing I had not happened upon and felt, and then I met John Greywolf. From the day I stumbled into the incense shop and spoke to him for the first time till now I have seen things and been through more than I could have imagined in such a small amount of time. I have dreamed fantastical things I can only hope with pure desire that may come to fruition and horrible nightmares I pray never take life. I have even seen a ghost, talked with him and enjoyed his company on several occasions. So when I heard the shaman was helping a family here with what they called a ‘malevolent’ entity I eagerly jumped at helping John.

And yet after spending only a few minutes in the house I was ready to leave. There was something so not right about that old domicile, something so unhappy at the basest level of the foundation and it only grew as the house rose up from the ground. The place was an old house on the outskirts of Midgar, a three floor dwelling with some work needed in a section where what the city used to be was everywhere but eroding daily, yearly. It was amazing to me someone would live out here and try to raise a family, but then the city was no place for a family on certain days.

I stood on the porch after walking out of the foyer of the house so fast I left door open. I had every intention of waiting for John in the spacious open vestibule of the house, but after being alone for a few seconds I felt like I was being watched. I felt like I was being measured by some unseen force, assessed by invisible eyes and I did not like it. I looked around trying o discern from where the observation was coming from and then something breathed into my left ear, a small whiff of air that just touched my lobe with a kiss from something that was not there. I turned to see the blank air of the foyer wall as the skin on my arms became a solid mass of bumps.

“[color=indigo]Who’s there?[.color]” I called out expecting an answer but not fully wanting one.

There was nothing but silence and the creak of wood…at first. I slowly turned looking all around for something though I knew not what it may have been. I had no clue what I was looking for, all I know is I wanted to see something to explain this feeling that was coming over me. That is when whatever was toying with me breathed in my ear again and that was the last of being alone for this night. I flew from the foyer and waited for John on the front porch. When he approached after seeing the family off he did not have to ask why I looked the way I did.

He knew what was waiting for him…for me inside the house.

John looked at Keiko and was about to tell her she didn’t have to spend the night with him in the house facing the malevolent spirit inside. He was about to explain to her this fight was not hers but his and in the end it would be his alone. She was more than a capable fighter here in the Middle World able to meet any combatant in a melee contest. This contest tonight though would not happen just here in this realm but also in the Lower World in the spirit’s domain. There would be more than guns and fists used in the conflict tonight. There would be a magic only few had come across and less could understand. This was a new experience many would not like to visit a second time.

Yet the look in his friend’s eyes told John she was here to stay, to see this through to the end. He hoped her favor wouldn’t be lost when the battle was over and she had seen the worst. These malevolent spirits always put up a fight and always did their worse when pressed with being driven out. When your back is up against the wall there are no rules, even for a spirit. What John knew and Keiko did not was the real danger behind the ghost who stalked this home. He knew what drove this spirit and the Shaman knew a test was coming.

The Shaman walked up to the front door and produced a bag out of his cargo pants pocket, the small leather pouch appearing when he thought of it. He knelt down and with a well practiced hand that had completed this ritual hundreds of times before John poured a small glittering line across the threshold. He finished the work and stood while lacing the pouch closed and putting it away in his cargo pants pocket.

“I sealed the doorway, keeping our friend here in the house.” John explained after seeing the confused look from the Sky Pirate. When she looked to one of the windows the Shaman shook his head and continued on. “This spirit does not use windows. It came in through the front door and it will only leave that same way. Before you ask, yes it told me such.”

The raised eyebrow from Keiko drew a reciprocal motion form John as a sudden loud bang reverberated through the house. It knows what I must do John thought silently to himself. It’s also getting ready to battle because it was not ready to leave, even with a force. This was rare the Shaman thought, but not so much he had never come across it. A spirit not wishing to cross over was not unusual, John had even come across trapped souls before, but one that was willing to fight to stay, well that was new. What was the real mystery was why the ghost wanted to stay in the house? What here in the house kept the spirit locked to it?

Then footsteps started to reverberate from the stairs, loud single steps from heavy feet. John took a deep breath and prepared himself for the greeting.

The footsteps approached us from the stairs, loud and with a purpose. It sounded like a man, a very large man, and I immediately thought of Wahkan. This was his footstep, a heavy thud which shook the floor, and I readied myself for someone like the quiet giant to show up.

Only there was no one who appeared as the footsteps came right up to us. There was nothing but the dark and the air around us which had dropped in temperature so much our breath condensed. A white plume mist popped up as I exhaled each time and nothing else. John though looked like he was staring at something with such intent it made me second guess my own eyes. I rubbed the orbs and took a step back which drew a quick hiss from the shaman. I stopped both moving and breathing, as something closed in on me with a not so good intention. I still could not see anything but my senses knew there was a person there, not an apparition or a ghost like Zheng, but a person none the less. The hair on the back of my neck began to stand on end and row up row of bumps broke out along my arms and legs. I could tell whatever it was staring at me, feel it judging me with some spectral sense. My heart sped up as something like this was brand new territory to me.

“John,” I whispered seeking an answer that never came.

John never had the chance to answer. Before I could think some…thing’s hand grabbed me by the throat and with strength I have never experienced squeezed. I felt my airway close and at the same time my feet left the very ground I had been standing on. I gasped for what I was sure was my last breath as my hands reached out to knock the hand away that was quickly killing me, only they met air instead of flesh. I tried to scream out in fear and for life but nothing came but the sound of choking…and what I am sure to this day was laughing. Whatever was killing me was enjoying itself as I floundered on the end of its crushing grip.

Then the shaman stopped the attack. What felt like minutes of flailing and fighting for my life was actually just a second or two. John stepped up and yelled something I did not understand and the spectral force that had beset me was gone, hopefully forever. I dropped to the ground in a lump coughing and gulping down as much air as I could to try and fill my lungs. And on the edge of my hearing, just at the point where a noise becomes discernible was the laughing, a cold laugh that was almost an evil giggle.

This was a war now I realized. There was no backing down and no walking away. I looked up to John and tried to say something but my wounded throat would not put word to voice. If It could I would have told him to rip the ghostly heart of this specter and then show it to me.

It wasn’t the sudden movement that made the malevolent spirit attack Keiko. John knew it had all ready set its sights on her from the beginning because of the two of them she was the most fearful at the moment. This spirit was most low, not only did it manifest the fear in its victims but it fed on the emotion it created as well. It was a depraved cycle that the Shaman meant to end this night.

Even as he felt the spirit approach John was getting ready for the attack. He slowly reached into his cargo pants pocket and produced a black Onyx perfect orb and held it in his right hand. He felt the crystal’s energy ebb through his hand and touch his heart. It gave him the assurance that he was not going weaponless into this confrontation. Then Keiko moved and he hissed trying to steel her will against the spirit, but John could tell from the look in her eyes the fright was gaining a hold. It was all the malevolent force looked for, needed and all at once it attacked. The Shaman watched as Keiko’s feet left the floor and dangled for a moment.

Yet it was just a moment, maybe a second a two. John leapt to his friend’s aid using the natural magic of the Onyx. He grabbed Keiko’s arm with the crystal touching her flesh and spoke a hard word.

“Ohunko!” He screamed.

And all at once the attack was done, over. John held onto Keiko easing her down to the ground as she fought to catch her breath and fill her lungs again. The look in her eyes though was far from scared now. She wanted revenge. She wanted to hurt this ghost now. That was good, anger fed this force less than fear and it would keep it at bay for some time.

“Why are you here? Why do you feed on our fear? Why do you not cross over?”

There was no answer, none for the ear based in this world. John knew the spirit was listening and had only retreated as far as it had to. The Onxy was a natural barrier to the one from the other world, even Zheng feared it if the Shaman brought it to close, and that was the problem with crystal, any crystal he owned. Even charged with John’s own magic the reach of a crystal and its powers was always short, maybe five feet at most. So the spirit was still here, it was just waiting to see what was going to happen now.

“Here, take this, you’ll need it tonight again before all this is over.” John whispered handing the Onyx crystal orb to Keiko.

When it left his hand the energy of the crystal left his body and John raised his own energy in preparation as he spoke out loud. “You are attacking an innocent family spirit. They have done nothing to bear the brunt of your hate. Why are you here? I will force you to answer me if I have to.”

There was no answer for a minute, but then a wail started from the living room down the hall. A loud wail of pain that grew and grew and grew until John felt the pressure of the scream in his ears and head.

The pain from the near throttling was of no comparison to that of the wail from the spirit as its scream vibrated through the house. I barely had my hands to ears to cover them when the screech reached its crescendo making the glass windows shake and the walls quake. Then, as quick as it had begun, the wail was gone and we were bathed in merciful quiet. I wanted to ask just what the hell had happened but after have the specter near squeeze the life from me I was in no mood to try and speak or move. I knelt right where I fell when let go and watched carefully as John stood his ground in the foyer looking everywhere and nowhere in particular.

I knew he was scanning for something I could not see, sensing for something there I would never be able to sense. I was still set to stand my ground. I still wanted to see this thing be sent away back to whatever pit it called a home, only I did not know what to do. I have never had to fight that which I could not…fathom maybe. I have fought men hand to hand and with pistol in the dark on decks that tossed and turned from angry winds, but I have never fought that which came from another realm. I was a little loss as to the next step we needed to do.

Luckily John had it under control. I took the large black orb he handed to me and held it in my right hand not sure what I was supposed to do with it. Was I supposed to hold it out and say something? What did John say that caused the specter to let me go? At this point there were so many more questions than answers that I just kept quiet and let the show run its course.

The house was quiet still and I was happy for that. Then I heard something in another room just off a hall that went north from the foyer. John stood still, so I did too, as the sound happened again and then again and finally again. It was like someone was tapping on the wall, like some strange code but we had no way to decipher the message. Then John slowly started off down the hall toward the sound, yet before leaving he gave me the sign to stay put. I did not want to stay there by myself and for a second I gave great thought to ignoring the shaman and following him.

I did not though and stood stoic and quiet there in the center of the foyer. I had a very bad feeling about splitting up, yet like I said I have no idea on how to fight such a thing as a specter. So I stood there waiting as John disappeared through a door that led to another room. I stood there waiting for what felt like a solid hour when something stepped out of the door the shaman had gone through.

Only it was not John who I started at.

The knocking was coming from John thought was the kitchen, and he approached the door that led to the room very carefully. He had to be ready for the attack that would be coming. The spirit would not let him wander around its domain long without trying to force him out. This would be the test of how strong John was in his Shamanism, how his energy would compare to that of the malevolence. Who won this showdown would more than likely carry this fight and the Shaman knew this. He wanted to be careful and give the spirit no advantage.

John reached the door and gingerly touched the surface pushing on it. The door was one of those swinging types and the Shaman pushed it open with no problem. As the door swung inward it revealed the large kitchen just as John had assumed. There was a large long island in the center of the room while along the walls were all different kinds of appliances and such. The color of the walls was a light green and along the ceiling was a decorative painting of a grape vine twisting this way and that. It looked like the perfect family kitchen, nothing that would have surprised anyone, with the exception of the cold mass that floated in the walkways around the island.

As John approached the wooden station he felt the temperature drop again, a sure sign he was not alone in the room. He stopped and noted the goose bumps along his arm as he spoke. “Why are you here? Why do you not want to cross over?”

There was no answer and John didn’t expect one…yet. The night was still early and he was sure the ghost would give him one before they finished their business. The cold mass moved away from him and his ears picked up a jumble of sounds, words John discerned after a second or two. The voice was a low whisper, it was male, and it was angry.

“leave here…leave here now…”

The Shaman shook his head. “I will not leave until you tell me why you are here.”

The kitchen fell silent, the whispered words ceasing. John looked around sensing the spirit was still moving around the room heading back to the door and the hall beyond. He stood looking at the swinging portal waiting to see if it would move, or if it would simply hang there still. John kept his gaze on the door when a knock from behind caught his attention. He turned to see what might have caused it and there standing in what was empty space a second before was now an elderly man with only threadbare trousers, decrepit and venerated. The old man was bent at the waist slightly as if the weight of his years bore too heavy on his shoulders to bear any longer. A hump was visible on his right side and brown spots were everywhere on his skin.

“Why are you here? The Shaman asked one more time.

The old man looked up and where his eyes should have been were empty eyeless sockets, deep black holes devoid of humanity. Then John started to hear the words again, whispered low and angry just like before.

“Leave here now!”

And then the old man leapt at John hands outstretched as if to grab the Shaman by the neck and squeeze, like it had done to Keiko moments before. John brought his hands up and stepped back ready to defend himself when the spirit was gone as quick as it had appeared and the door to the hall suddenly swung open.

As the door to the room swung open I saw nothing, but as it closed I saw the old man standing there like he was going to church on a holy day. I also noted the way the door closed, passed right through him without stopping or pausing. This was something I had never seen before this night, and I hope never to again in the future. My mind kept telling my eyes what just happened had to be a trick, some cheap conjurer’s attempt to deceive and mislead; only my eyes would not listen. So there I stood watching the impossible happen, the improbable surpass the real. I swallowed as the old man turned to me and I saw he had no eyes, not one white ball, nothing but deep black holes. His skin was the color of old parchment form what I saw and I instantly thought of old charts and maps because of it.

I froze hoping that if I stayed perfectly still the thing would leave me be.

It did not for when eye met socket I heard the same whispery voice that I had heard earlier speak again just behind my right shoulder. It was like a stone being grated ever so slowly. “Get…Out…Get…Out…” over and over tickled my ear and made my spine shiver.

I was never sure who or what the old man was. I never wanted to after this night. I just did not want to make it mad or vexed with me. Yet to leave this house, its house, was not an option or I would have given in and left with a hop and a skip out the front door. I wanted to yell loudly I would be more than happy to leave its abode and go but that was not a choice John had said was mine.

“Get…Out…Get…Out…”

“Who are you? Why are you here?” I asked just like I had seen and heard John do before he slipped into the other room.

The ghost, and yes I had assumed this was the specter that was running loose, refused to answer me just like it had refused to answer John. It only just pointed to the door as the voice kept repeating the same two words over and over in my ear like a dead lover.

“Get…Out…Get…Out…”

I shook my head slowly. “We will not leave till we know who you are.”.

As soon as the words had left my mouth I knew I had over-stepped some unknown boundary between the living and the dead, like crossing a mark in the sand. The old man’s mouth opened and the wail started again and to my sudden terror it charged me. As the wail shook the house the ghost sped at me faster than anything I have seen before, it became a blur almost. The old parchment skin was lost as well as the form becoming a mist coming for me. I held up John’s black orb in hopes it would keep me from being strangled again. This time though the ghost had no intention of attacking, it just passed right on through me on its way up the stairs to another hiding spot. The pictures that lined the wall rising at the same angle as the stairs, you know the ones showing the lineage of the family living in the house from grandparent to child, flew off the wall and over the rail landing on the floor with a loud snap of breaking glass. Then as the ghost was gone the wail stopped.

It took less than twenty seconds for it all to happen and even less for my body temperature to drop so severe I could not control the shivers that racked my body. I was so damn cold I felt my teeth chatter as the wail died off.

Then John touched my shoulder and I let out my own wail…I had not heard his approach and he scared me almost to death.

John ran out of the kitchen just as the wail started and saw the spirit pass through Keiko as she stood her ground valiantly. It didn’t do much except get her cold to the touch and he knew this because when he touched her shoulder it felt like a chunk of ice. She also let out her own wail, a scream that echoed off the walls. As she stopped and looked at him with daggers for eyes John just held a single finger to his lips requesting her silence. Keiko nodded even though she looked ready to let him have it so the Shaman stepped closer to the stairs and called out.

“Why are you here spirit? Why will you not cross over?”

There was no answer this time, not a single note of a scream or the syllable of a word. John stood still waiting at the base of the steps. He knew this was not going to be a quick encounter and that the spirit had no intention of leaving. What the ghost was doing now, the Shaman assumed, was gathering its energy again and getting ready for another clash. There was only so much energy a ghost could use, a limit before it had to slip back into the folds of the Hidden World to recharge. The only question was how long would it take for the spirit to recharge. John had seen some take as long as three days and some as short as ten minutes. The telling sign of just how strong the spirit might be was the length of time it took to gather itself again. How long did it stay on this plane before it had to retreat? John was silently keeping track of the time in his head when there was a sudden slam of a door upstairs, like the portal had been opened then hammered home.

Five minutes, that was short, either a very powerful spirit or it hadn’t run out of energy just yet and was giving one last show. The only way to find out was to chase after it so the Shaman headed up the stairs one step at a time. He wasn’t surprised to find Keiko right behind, but he did wonder if it was from the fact she refused to be alone in the house. The pair made the second floor and John turned to this right looking down a hall toward a set of small rooms, probably for the children. He looked left and saw two large rooms, a master bedroom and maybe a home office, Sebastian’s work space more than likely. The Shaman tuned into the energy around him, felt its chaotic and skittish pitch. The spirit wasn’t running and it was not weakened enough to flee yet. It was leading them somewhere John thought.

A door to a room on the right swung open slowly, painstakingly creaking as it did. The Shaman expected to see the old man again but there was no one there this time, no ghost or anything. He turned to Keiko and pointed to the room indicating he was going in to see what was there. She just nodded before he started toward the open door.

As John left to ascend the stairs I had already made the decision I was not staying in the foyer by myself. It seemed every time I have been left to my own in this house that damnable specter attacks me in some way or another. If I had to stick like glue to John’s side as he moved along through the house to keep myself safe from the ghost than that was exactly what I was going to do. I followed in the shaman’s footsteps as we reached the second floor landing and there we stood waiting as John was doing something, what I have no clue. He looked right then left as the quiet of the house played tricks on my ears, knocks abruptly sounded all around me. I swore I heard another breath, another foot fall, and downstairs something was crying or maybe it was me. I was quite lost I have to admit, but then the door down the right hall swung slowly open with no human there to push it or to move it.

The hinges squeaked and yelped making my skin crawl as the door kept moving with no one around it to stop the movement. I looked to John and as he watched it all carefully. I wanted to state with a certain enthusiasm that he was not about to go down there. The ghost was down there, it opened the door so it had to be a trap. Yet John just looked at me and gave a sign he was going down there to check it out and like I said before I was not about to be left alone in this house. I pointed toward the door indicating I had the mind set of following him wherever he went and there was not a thing to deter me. John looked like a man ready to go against me and I was sure that could not be the case.

Then down the hall to our left a door followed the slow creaking movement of its brother to our right. It swung open without the aid of human power and came to stop just short of the wall, as of the ghost was trying to stay quiet. I stood staring at the opened portal for a second then turned back to John. Now, with those two roads laid out before us I knew what was coming so I tried to put an end to any thought of splitting us up. I pointed back down the hall to the right, to the first door that had come open because I was sure that was where John was going. It had to be his choice. This second door was just a distraction, all the action was going to happen down that right hall. Whatever this specter was it was hiding down the right hall in that room, it was just waiting for us to come and get rid of it.

Only, it was not a shock what came next. I mean I saw it coming.

That stupid door down the hall…

Two doors.

One choice.

As much as he didn’t want to split them up John knew what the spirit was trying to do just that. It had all ready attacked Keiko and appeared to them both, three different tasks that took an enormous amount of energy for a specter to do. Everything existing on the Middle World, especially those who should have passed on, required energy and each of those only had a sparring amount. The living never considered much about the invisible energy that flowed all around them. To them waking, eating, and working were the only things they knew. To the living there was no natural flow to the Universe, to the World, or the energy that connected us all. To a ghost though, the energy was the one thing it would need to stay on the Middle World.

Even as powerful as this spirit had shown itself to be it was still bound by the law of energy and the need for it. The ghost had obviously depleted itself and was now hiding until it could refresh its energy. It would need to draw it from the energy that was around and that meant living things, like him and Keiko. It was drawing one of them to an ambush to try and draw on their energy. He couldn’t change the attack, but he could change the intended victim.

John looked down one end of the hall then down the other end his eyes squinting as he drew up his senses to try and locate the spirit now. A moment passed then he looked down to Keiko and motioned he would go right toward the children’s rooms. He then pointed for her to stay again and with a reluctant nod she agreed. John then started down the hall quietly toward the children’s rooms. He made the small trip in about five steps and when he was by the pair of openings he stopped. There was a room for a small boy with all sorts of painted pictures of heroes on the walls while the other had the usual little girl flowers and pretty pink walls. The Shaman looked into both rooms, reached out with his senses, and then with a quick step went into the boy’s room.

At first there was nothing, no feeling what so ever of the ghost, but John waited. He knew it was here, hiding and waiting. He walked over to another door, the closet, and reached out for the knob. His fingers just grasped the metal when it came for him, right through the door. The old man leapt at him, its body half way beyond the wood, and into John’s chest with a scream. The Shaman grunted and stepped back feeling his body go so cold it hurt. A spasm ran through his hands forcing them into claws as he stepped back from the door. The ghost continued on forcing itself into John’s body, both becoming an eerie mix. The old man’s limbs and body popped out John’s sides and back while its face was sticking out of his shoulder.

Then there were loud footsteps running down the hall. John knew Keiko was coming and so did the ghost because all at once it turned to a small white mist and vanished back through the door into the closet. John dropped to his knee as his body shivered. He whispered over and over a single phrase as he tried to warm his body.

“I know you now…I know you now.”

I heard John groan and then drop to the floor. I was running down the hall to meet him before I know what I was doing and when I turned into the room I saw the shaman kneeling by the closet door mumbling. I also saw what I thought was a white mist retreating back into the closet, as if running from John. I walked over and put my hand on his back meaning to check on him and the touch was like ice. The shaman was so cold my hand hurt from the touch.

“By the mast…what the hell happened John?” I whispered.

There was no answer form the shaman except form his mumbling about knowing the ghost. I could only assume John had magically melded with the specter and thus somehow deduced where we stood with the damnable thing. I was about to ask him again what he meant by ‘knowing’ the ghost when there was a loud crash down the hall. I knew the sound. It was the other door slamming shut to the other room. The damn ghost was moving about like a moogle, jumping here and there and causing me to have a headache.

“What are we going to do now?” I whispered to no one with worry.

There was a second crash. The door to the same room opened and slammed again. I walked to the entrance of the room and looked out into the hall down to where the door was being ripped from its hinges it sounded like. I looked down the semi dark hallway and noticed both doors were closed at the moment. I stood there quietly watching both portals with a keen eye. I knew the ghost was still down there and it was not done playing with us or this house. A minute ticked off me clock and nothing had happened, but then I heard John gasp. I swung my head to look at the shaman and John was just starting to regain his senses somewhat. I turned back to the hall and down there at the end the door was open again. There was no creak this time like last. It was just open, like it had been left that way on purpose by someone heading out the door. I squinted to see if there were any sign of the specter then realized the ghost was invisible. I would never see it coming.

As I was standing there giving myself a slap for being daft I noticed a small shadow on the opposite wall of the door. It looked human, like the old man, and then it did not. When I stared at it more closely I could make out the subtle difference of a hump now forming and a ears with long points at the top. I had seen a member of the Elvaan race more than once and now I started to think this was some elf running around fighting us.

Then the shadow changed, or evolved if you believe it. The darkness swam and swirled like black water and what it was forming now worried me greatly, more than I had been.

“John, you better get up. We’re going to have a visitor I suspect.”

A visitor, what was Keiko talking about John thought, actually forcing his brain to work. He was also trying to raise his energy again, back to a level that would raise his body temp. The ghost had absorbed more than he had planned to allow so John was fighting to get it back. Now the sky pirate was saying there was a visitor coming? It had to the ghost, had to be. John gathered his strength and with some effort regained his feet. He took a deep breath and gather his thoughts, his feelings as well. There was confusion in him that he had to resolve. When the ghost had attacked it was for the simple reason of stealing his energy, but during the task they had become one for a slight moment. Emotions had intermingled, mixed at that base level of survival.

He knew who the ghost was now. John had its name and why it was here.

So when Keiko said something was coming she had no clue what that something was, but the Shaman did. It was why he pushed his Chi energy to replenish. He walked over to the door on legs that felt a little wobbly, but there was no time to get them stable. John walked past Keiko and into the hall. His eyes picked up on the shadow the sky pirate was looking at. He noticed the change in its appearance, the ears and the hump. No need to disguise yourself anymore ghost, the Shaman thought, no need to hide behind a façade.

“I see you Saurel, or what you want me to see, but I know the real you now.” John yelled down the hall.

The shadow didn’t move. It stayed perfectly still in the room. John swallowed and yelled out again. “Staying here Saurel will not bring you justice. These people here, the ones who live here now, were not the ones who hurt you.”

At the last the shadow suddenly disappeared, like someone had turned off the light source casting it with a flick of the switch, only there was no source of light to turn off. It was just gone with a blink. John swallowed again feeling his strength, his energy, come back to its usual level. He felt his senses begin to reach out again into the ethos around him. He couldn’t feel Saurel close but that didn’t mean the ghost had left the house. It only meant it wasn’t near at the moment.

John turned back to Keiko explaining what he knew now. “The ghost has a name and a past. He lived long before this house was built and the family who lives here now was born. He went by the name of Saurel and he was a simple human who only wanted to live out his life with the one he loved, a girl named Isaura. Only he was killed by someone before they could marry, killed for something he did not have.”

Abruptly the wail erupted through the house again. It made John’s ears ache but now that he knew why Saurel made the piercing lament the Shaman held no ill. It was just sad to hear now, a cry for a love he never was able to fulfill.

A lost love? I could not believe John was telling me I was throttled and damn near sent to the other side because some fool long ago did not get a chance to bed someone. I could not fathom how unrequited love was putting me through a night like of this manner. Most Pirates live by a code which states in simple terms life is short, live it as such. Love has it place and time and if you are not touched by the emotion then you are all the better for it. To hang about in this world when the other is calling is unreasonable, to stay here hurting others in the name of love? That is just half-witted.

Still, if this was all about love and the fact this Saurel did not have a chance to experience it with his bonnie lass then all we had to do was find her and have the two chat. Problem solved, family can return, and we can get on about our business. Yet something told me this was not going to be that easy. I had a sinking feeling this Isaura was not of this world either, like our friend Saurel, and if she was not then it might be on the hard edge to get them together.

Unless…

“If this Saurel just wants to confess his undying heart, which seems to have stopped beating, to this Isaura then why do we not let them speak?” I asked after the wailing had subsided.

The look John gave me said the idea had merit, but in the end would not have worked. At least that is what I am going to assume that was what John was thinking. So having them talk was not the grandest of ideas, maybe it was due to Isaura not being alive? It made perfect sense to a poor sky Pirate such as me.

“I assume his love, the beautiful Isaura, has passed on as well. If that is the absoluteness of her current state then can we surmise that she and Saurel should have met somewhere on the other side if not for his blundering and staying round here.”

Now the look John gave me was more like I had a small stroke of genius. I felt proud and invigorated by my good fortune and then something else came to me. I leaned in close and whispered to the shaman. “Then would it not be an act of heroism and compassion for you to send Saurel on his way back to the great beyond? You could use your crystal and maybe some magic spell to help him see the light, and even help old Saurel to step through. Maybe that one from earlier before, that one might do the trick.”

From down the hall the wail started again. It was loud…and mournful I have to admit to no one by myself. I started to think about my Captain and what I felt the day he was taken from me. He died as he lived giving no quarter and taking for none of the same, and I missed him more than I cared to admit.

The request to forcibly break the bond Saurel held on this realm sending him back to the other Worlds would not have worked John surmised. The ghost had never crossed over, never taken the steps needed to cross over. He had fought against the light, or dark depending on your soul, every day since his untimely death and since there was no magic bridging the gap between the realms for Saurel he could not simply be ‘forced’ back with a spell. The only way John knew of stopping Saurel’s rampage was to have him make the choice to leave, to cross over, and that would be just about the only thing he could do to free the ghost and the family.

“I can’t send Saurel away with my magic. He has not crossed over so he is not here by any means I can sever with magic. We have to convince him to make the final journey. ”

The look on Keiko’s face told John she had no clue how to make that happen, which was where he was at the moment. Then the silence finally caught the Shaman’s attention. It was abrupt, the wailing long gone from the house. The feeling all around John changed to taking on a more ominous darker sensation, like the taste of anger in your mouth. He swallowed and sniffed the air, iron and burnt like that of an old fire pit. He whispered while keeping an eye on the entrance to the room.

“I think we may have angered Saurel. Stay behind me no matter what happens.”

The air around them grew cold and dry. John’s breath condensed to white plumes as he called out to the ghost he knew was there. “Attacking won’t send us away Saurel and it will not bring you the love of your Isaura.”

John felt Keiko fall in behind him and it was just in time as the door to the room suddenly came to life slamming shut with a loud bang sending a burst of wind into him. Before he could say a word the door opened again and slammed shut and opened and slammed shut in rapid succession. It just kept going till the wood finally gave way and ripped free from the hinges sending slivers flying. “Stop Saurel! This won’t bring you the peace you seek!”

The cold in the air deepened as the ghost Saurel forced his presence. The door jamb abruptly split as the wall around it buckled from a great weight. The room shook from the force, the floor shifting under John’s feet. Still the ghost kept coming, its unseen force shoving and crushing the walls around what was left of the entry into the room. The Shaman took a breath feeling the cold sting his lungs. The ceiling by the door collapsed in throwing debris everywhere. John started to wonder if the house would, could take much more of Saurel’s anger. He began to think of a possible plan to escape the ruin of the home just in case he and Keiko needed to as the ghost kept up its thrashing.

John could not send the ghost back? I was reeling from that statement. He was supposed to be the mystic all knowing and wise shaman, how could he not be able to send the specter back to the hell it crawled out of. I was about to respond with a barrage of words questioning this point when John said we may have angered Saurel.

Now just what at the bottom of the blue ocean is that supposed to mean? Then the whole damnable world went to hell with one big thud. The walls to the room began to shake and splinter, like the hull of a cheap dingy, and I was sure it was all going to cave in around us. Pieces of the door and the wall around fell onto the floor then a chunk of the ceiling dropped down in a cloud of white dust. It was trying to kill us I was sure of it. Saurel was trying to send us to the great ocean beyond with this tantrum it was throwing and there was not a thing I could see to stop it.

“Stop it John! The ghost is going to kill us!” I screamed.

More of the ceiling collapsed and the wall around the door began to buckle even more. Soon we’d be buried in this child’s room if the ghost kept flailing at us. John just watched with his usual calm demeanor while I stood behind him with eyes the size of Gil’s as Saurel destroyed this house. I gave a small prayer to my Captain hoping he would be waiting for me when I was done on this world, and then it all stopped. The assault on the walls, the loud crashing, and the room falling in on us…it all just went away. I took a deep breath expecting, anticipating the attack to begin again. This Saurel was just playing dead, trying to lull us to sleep. It would start trying to get to us again at any moment now.

Only the ghost did not try anything else. It was mercifully quiet and I for one was happy for it. If I never heard another wall being crushed so something could get to me I would die a blessed pirate. Still, all I wanted as out of the room and out of that house. John looked at what was left of the door for a moment more, too long to me, so I asked him just what he was looking for.

“Are we getting out of here now or do you need to ask a few more questions?”

The eerie quiet never stopped as the shaman did not respond to me. I had had enough of this though and I took a step forward exiting the room with two quick steps. When I saw the hall leading up to the room I gasped. Long gouging marks, like claws, were all along the halls and every one lead back to the end of the hall and the rooms there.

“Shiver me timbers!” I whispered in shock and disbelief. Old Saurel knew how to throw a tantrum.

When John stepped out into the hall and saw the damage the ghost had done in its fit of rage he gave a small whistle as the only sign of his shock. He had come across specters and entities that attacked the living with scratches and slaps, but nothing like what he saw on the walls here. The plaster was not only gouged, it was ripped in long runs and strips. It looked as if someone took a steel rake and dragged it down the hall, only with a lot more power than an average human could possess. He took a step past Keiko and down the hall noting the nail marks were just a little bigger than his own hand. Saurel must have been a large man in his day the Shaman thought as his moccasins quieted each of his steps.

“She must have been a very special lady to you Saurel, to love her so much to stay behind like this. Isaura must have been so beautiful she took your breath away when you looked at her.”

There was no answer to John’s words. He could still sense the spirit here in the house, but the rage and anger of moments ago were gone. Now there was just the pain and loneliness of exile in the air as John kept walking down the hall past the top of the stairs. “What was it that drew you to her Saurel? What was it that made Isaura the one you would never forget?”

This time, on the faintest of whispers, a single word drifted to John’s ears. If not for the enchantment of his hat he might have never heard it so subdued was the answer. “Eyes,”

The Shaman smiled and stopped in the hall where he had reached before hearing Saurel. “Her eyes eh? It must have been like looking into the eyes of an angel so sweet and pure. They were blue weren’t they, the color of the sky above on a perfect day when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.” As he finished the quiet took over again. There were no words this time as the Shaman looked back to make sure Keiko was all right. “Loving her came easy to you didn’t it Saurel, so easy it was like breathing, and yet you were never one to love easy were you? As hard as man in life as you are in death, so stubborn and hard and alone.”

There may have been no sound to the ear, even the heightened ones of John, but the Shaman could sense the sadness from Saurel. He had been so in love with a woman who never returned it to him, so lost in the emotion he had refused to cross over because he couldn’t bear to be to be away from her for any reason including death. It was why he stayed here at this spot. He didn’t haunt the house but the land it sat on.

He was still waiting for Isaura to return. He just wanted to see her one more time.

All this talk of seeing an old love one last time, well it all sounded quite sappy to me. I have never and hope to never become so engrossed in someone else, either sex or race makes no difference, to which I refuse to leave when the time has come to exit. If that ever happens I hope someone with just an ounce of compassion will put me out of my obvious misery.

Love is a four letter word never spoken round me.

Still, as I watched John talk to the air with such compassion as if to talk someone out of ending their life made me feel just a little emotion. I looked around wondering if this Saurel was close or if he was hiding in the bedroom again. The shadow that crossed the hall just moments before had gone missing after the attack on the door, maybe Saurel was lying in wait? I could feel the heavy cold in the hall just as before, but the nastiness in the air had disappeared. It no longer felt like someone out to kill me or make some attempt to end my life. It just felt…lonely. I swear in a blink, just stepping out past the busted door, I started to feel the crushing despair of being alone. I started to feel like I had been abandoned, cast out, or whatever word fits your need for the moment.

“Are you lonely Saurel?” I abruptly found myself speaking.

As soon as my voice echoed in the hall I felt like I had trespassed into a place I should have stayed well away from, yet John felt the opposite. He motioned for me to continue with a nod and just as quickly as I found my voice it was gone now. I rarely find myself for a loss of words, never actually, but at the time I could not find one to say. It was the pressure, trying to force me to converse with a ghost who was having a weak moment with a lost love. I was tempted to tell old Saurel his love had long left this realm for the next and that h e should just shove off and do the same. Then I rubbed my neck remembering how the specter damn near throttled the life from me.

“I know it’s hard Saurel, being alone and all, but staying here waiting for your long lost bonnie lass to come home to a home that is not yours is not what she would want. She would want you to move on, you deserve to be away from this place Saurel, to be happy.”

I was not sure if what I said had an effect of not. How do you read the face of a ghost? I stood there in the hall looking at John waiting to see if anything was broken, thrown, or just smashed up against a wall and hoping all three did not happen to me. I could see the shaman looking all around for some kind of a sign, reaching out with those supernatural senses of his. To me, it was too damn quiet.

John watched closely as Keiko talked to Saurel. She wasn’t bad at this he thought, talking to the air in a compassionate manner. Her voice was soothing to him the Shaman thought. It also gave him time to think and formulate a plan on how to make Saurel cross over. It would be easier and more honorable to have the ghost chose to step into the light, but at this point John could only assume the chance of that happening was not good. Saurel had made the choice at his death to not cross over because of his lover for Isaura, and that had not changed over all the long years. Add to that the deep resentment of being alone and the emotion of outright abandonment and the Shaman was facing a deeply entrenched enemy who was not leaving quietly, as evident by the damage to the house so far.

If he had to force the ghost to leave, and there was no way of knowing if he could do it without causing more destruction, he would need help. His small spell of sending a spirit back would not work in this case as he had all ready stated to Keiko, which made the chore harder but not impossible. John just had to come at this from a different angle, a certain perspective. If he couldn’t force Saurel out maybe he could trick him to cross over? It would have to be near perfect but if it was done right they just had to be just close enough to perfect to trick him. The plan was forming up in John’s brain, not a complete layout yet, but enough for him to start and do the rest on the fly.

“Saurel, what Keiko says is right. It’s time to move to the next realm, to the other worlds and rest. Isaura would want this like she said, as a matter of truth, Isaura would tell you this herself if you would listen.”.

As the last of John’s words went silent in the hall the door to the office started to move on its own again. It had been closed since the attack but was now swinging of its own accord, pushed by some unseen force. The Shaman watched closely as it did and when the door was finished moving his keen eyes picked up the shadow on the opposite wall again, just like before. Saurel was standing and waiting for the rest of the offer to be presented John thought. “Isaura never came home all these years Saurel because she had moved on herself, left this world for the next, and she would tell you staying behind and torturing this family and yourself will not bring you peace. Revenge never heals Saurel. It hasn’t all these years and it never will.”

The shadow stayed still. The ghost was still listening as John carried on. “I can bring Isaura to you Saurel. I can lead her here from the other worlds and she can speak with you once more, but if I do you must leave this house and this family be. You must cross over and let peace be upon this place Saurel, do you understand?”

John stood back and waited for an answer from the ghost…it didn’t take long for one. With a blink the shadow in the room was gone and the temperature in the hall dropped to freezing once again.

I was starting to convince myself this all might end in a way I could understand, yet the shaman told the specter he would bring him his lost bonnie lass and I was lost once again. How was John going to have them meet? We had no idea who this Isaura was, or at least I did not, or even if she was still walking this world and here goes the shaman making a promise like that. I admit I had a long string of doubt building on this one.

Then the hallway went cold again, like it had done a dozen times this night, and I knew that damnable ghost was there with us once more. I swallowed hard and looked to my left then right trying to make sure if old Saurel went crazy he’d have to work hard to squeeze the life out of me. I looked at the stairs like a man drowning who was just thrown a rope, those steps were my rope incase I started to drown here in this hall. Yet there were no attacks or crazed thrashing, just a strange mist that seemed to gather round John and mine’s feet. It floated along just above the floor covering our boots gong no higher than our ankles. And then I was speaking again and once again I had no idea as to why.

“You can trust John there Saurel, he is not the type to steer one on the rocks. He can bring you Isaura but you will have to abide by his rules. You will need to leave this family be. They had nothing to do with what caused you to be separated from your love for all this time. Attacking them like you have been doing is unjust Saurel.”

There was no response from the mist or the air or anything. The billowing white fog at me feet kept swirling and it was still cold so I started to assume my little plea fell on deaf ears. I had no real basis to think a ghost had ear so I was not surprised at the silence. I looked to John to hopefully signal him if I should continue on when an ocean of sadness just seemed to hit me out of blue sky. I suddenly felt like my whole existence had been lost, torn away from me. I was so depressed and despondent all at once I would have cried if I knew how and in the storm that were my emotions now I kept hearing one word over and over.

Isaura

Isaura

Now I knew what was going on. That specter had touched me, sent all the loneliness it had been feeling all these years and put it right into me. It was not trying to take me over possess me in some spectral way. Saurel was just passing along how bad he felt and I understood why amazingly. He missed Isaura, so much he would agree to John’s rules. For one last look at his lady love he’d leave this world and cross to the next.