I extended my senses toward the pseudo-Victorian house, trying to figure out what was taking my mom so long. I was tired of waiting for her to finish her cursory exam, and wanted to get moving. Impatience and boredom did not make me a happy girl. Aileen was in the basement, her emotions neutral in my empathy. I cursed futilely that I hadn't inherited telepathy from my dad. Mom's telepathy wasn't strong enough for us to communicate, which made it really rough when we were separated during hunts like this.
Shivering, I tried not to think about Dad. Tonight was October 31st, All Hallows Eve, when the barriers to the afterlife were thin. Hopefully Sean had moved on happily, wouldn't have any need to come back after three years, but I didn't understand the motivations of the dead. I could hear them, could read their emotions, yet I couldn't see them, couldn't understand them. I wondered if anyone did.
The entire house reeked of stale sweat and mold, though the owner'd had professional cleaners in three times, and repainted once. The smell would fade, he'd told us, but always came back within a few days.
Evidence pointed to a spectre; a ghost that had become malicious and twisted, and wouldn't move on even if it were freed from this plane. The longer they stayed in the physical plane, the more violent and powerful they became. We planned to get this one cleared out of here before it became more of a danger to anyone; it had already used its tricks to kill the last residents.
Aileen had a pair of battery powered lanterns hanging from hooks on the ceiling beams of the basement, the eerie white light washing out her face, giving her curls an inky look. She was chalking a circle on the cement floor, head down, though I knew she heard me jogging down the stairs. The smell seemed stronger down here, with a sickly aroma underlying it all. It reminded me of rotting meat under a hot sun, and I bit my lip. Something powerful was lingering here, that was for sure.
"Victims?" I asked, frowning. "Bert said they were accidents."
Mom sat back on her heels, running a dusty hand through her hair. "Yeah, he did. One of them fell down the stairs and cracked their head open. The other drowned. But I can sense the violence of their deaths, their anger." She tipped her head. "They both knew they were being killed, should both be ghosts."
I bit my lip, extending my senses. I was envious of Aileen's empathy talent; she could read lingering emotions, long after the person had left. I only read current emotions, and had to be somewhere near whomever I was reading. Although, I could sense the emotions of ghosts and animals, like my dad. Just a quirk of genetics.
There were no ghosts in the house, not even a trace. It was like there had never been ghosts here. But if she said their deaths were violent, they would have remained, if only as a slowly fading shade. Some remnant of them should be here, but my probes couldn't find them.
Aileen's emotions cut off, like a wall had come between us, but I knew she was as shocked as me. She was prepping herself for whatever was here, and we could only hope we could handle it. Sean had been the brawler, going after the physical problems. She was the one who could command spirits, even if she could only see them when she channeled. I was somewhere in between, without the depth of experience either of them had.
The basement door slammed shut, causing the stairs to rattle, and I spun, eyes narrowing. Energy pulsed through my arm, and my psi blade shimmered into life. It appeared as a distortion in the air, and it hummed with my agitation. I stepped away from the stairs, waiting for our opponent to make its way down. The stench of rotting meat grew stronger, and the distinct sweetness of dead things taunted my nostrils.
Mom was murmuring under her breath, and I stood between her and the stairs, riding the tension as it built. Aileen was talking to someone, or something, yet there was nothing with us. If it were a ghost, why hadn't I picked up on it yet?
"Yes I am," I said through my teeth, throat constricted. My head was throbbing with my pulse as the presence assessed me, and I tried to tighten my shields. I couldn't believe it had gotten in so easily, barely keeping the invasive damage of its mind from psychically wounding me. I caught an image of bloody death, and reeled momentarily. "You're the one who killed those people."
Of course I am. This is my devouring ground. The presence became sharper, became clearly male, and its malignancy stunned me as it continued invading my thoughts. It has always been my devouring ground. More images assailed me, and I stumbled back, head spinning. There was violence, blood and rage, and the weight of ages behind the scenes.
"What are you?" I asked breathlessly, trying to steel myself against the pain he caused. The familiar calm began; a near chill that divorced my emotions from my thoughts and actions. A pair of eldritch sparks hung in the air at the bottom of the stairs, and I saw the hazy impression of a figure. It was mostly humanoid, but hunched and gaunt. He was starting to gain substance; I saw gray mottled skin and long claws, and trembled slightly. Whatever this creature was, I doubted it had started out as human.
"Because you're going to kill us," I supplied. He laughed inside my head, a sharp noise like glass grating against glass, and I winced.
Of course. That's what I do. I kill soft little fleshies like yourself, and I devour their spirits. You mortals are all so tasty.
"Too bad you won't get this meal," Aileen snapped. I glanced toward her, saw the smudges in the dirt at her feet, and knew she'd managed to work her power into something new. She flung her hands out, sending a telekinetic net toward the creature. He hissed, trying to dodge, but was caught in the invisible power my mom commanded. She grunted in pain as he began to struggle, and kept her hands out. He roared, pressing forward, and power surged through the air. I'd seen her net in action before; he shouldn't be able to move at all.
He merely laughed, and my blood chilled. Before I could recover from shock, he lifted his hand, and batted me away as easily as he might a fly. I flew through the air, then crashed painfully into exposed framing. Pain flared from my shoulder from impact with a stud, and my head spun. Groaning, I rolled onto my side, my blade dissipating, and tried to sit up.
Aileen gave a strangled cry, and my eyes flew open. The devourer was shambling toward her, walls vibrating faintly with the backwash of telekinetic power. He'd broken from her net, and was zeroing in for the kill. Grinding my teeth, I forced myself to my feet, forcing my blade back to life. Mom needed me, and I was still too dizzy to move.
Time slowed as the creature continued forward. She had one hand to her forehead, her eyes down, and was gesturing with the other. "Mom!" I shrieked, trying to draw her attention to the murderous thing directly in front of her. She glanced up to me, her green eyes brimming with unshed tears, and the bottom fell out of my heart. Our gazes were locked, and she didn't move as gnarly claws sliced through her neck, blood splattering in an arc. The devourer laughed, his hunger palpable as Aileen crumpled to the ground.
Or where his heart should be. There was no blood, no sign that I'd hurt him. The creature laughed, reaching for me. My left arm came up to block, and he clutched it like a vise. Claws tore through armored leather, slicing my arm to the bone, and I screamed. He leered, forcing me closer, chuckling low with his grating voice. I'd cut him repeatedly, through what should be vital areas, and yet hadn't done any damage to him.
Looking into his milky eyes, I faced my death.
His movements were slowly hampered, and he realized his predicament. I screamed in denial as his form began to dissipate, becoming translucent, leaving only glowing sparks where his eyes had been. I will not forget this, fleshling. I will have revenge. Then his presence faded entirely.
I spun, hoping against hope Aileen wasn't as hurt as I'd thought. Seeing her glazed over eyes, I sobbed, my heart breaking. "Keila, be strong," she whispered, the majority of it telepathic. Then she was gone.