A Wish So Deadly
Chapter One
Anguish. The energy surrounding this place reeks of it. A lonely cottage perched on a hill, a dark silhouette against a brooding sky. Arched windows peek through a covering of overgrown ivy, panes waxy with age.
My boss, Alaric, didn’t tell me much about this job. Only that the old couple who lived here recently died, and their family wanted the place cleansed of any negative energies left behind. Apparently, a Soul Wraith has been seen wandering the four walls.
Weeds claw at my ankles as I cross the wild garden. Their thorny fingers snag greedily at my tights, and a small nick sends a run up the side of my leg.
I curse under my breath. That’s another pair ruined.
I’ll have to try and fix them in my room tonight, after my sister, Elara, has gone to bed.
She’ll never let me hear the end of it if she finds out I’ve ruined my last good pair.
We don’t exactly have the money to replace them.
Recently, we haven’t even had enough money for the heating.
The air around the cottage is thick. It’s like trying to breathe through a mouthful of dust, suffocating with the bitter taste of neglect. Half-empty milk bottles litter the porch, filled with murky rainwater and crusted with grime.
I retch as the smell of sour milk fills my nostrils. Quickly push open the front door and step inside. The floorboards groan, dust particles pirouetting through the air.
My rucksack lands on the floor with a thud, and I rifle through it for a bundle of sage and a box of matches. Once lit, the sage crackles softly. Little orange embers eat away at the dry leaves until plumes of white smoke curl through the air.
I suppress a sneeze, inhaling the dust and the wisps of sage that envelop me as I crouch down to inspect the post. The floor is strewn with newspapers, piles of unopened envelopes and old copies of magazines.
Blooms an eruption that splatters the midnight-blue liquid all over my body.
“Thanks,” I drone, wiping the sticky substance from my eyes and stepping back.
The exposed Soul Wraith flits past me in a shroud of black, only vaguely resembling something human. It zooms through the kitchen, toppling the remaining three dining chairs, and slithers around the doorframe back into the hallway.
I sigh as I try to scrape the liquid off my face and out of my straight black hair, but it clings, stretching into slimy strings before splattering on to the floor. The odour catches me off guard. It smells sharp and metallic. I didn’t register what it means before.
Most Soul Wraiths I encounter are spawned from untimely deaths caused by accidents – manifesting as black smoke – or illnesses – erupting as white smoke. It only strikes me now… Midnight-blue liquid means poison.
Chills ripple across my skin, but there’s no time to consider the implications. I hurry across the kitchen into the hallway, where I bend to collect my bundle of sage. It’s no longer burning, so I have to rekindle it.
The hallway is still. Even the shadows seem to hold their breath.
To my right is the staircase in front of which the old lady first appeared.
The stairs stretch up to a sunny landing, but, despite the warm rays streaming through the window, the air is chilly – that’s how you know an exposed Soul Wraith has come through here.