Chapter 6 Haunted Halls #2
When I reach the attic I look around for Seth, but draw back in shock at the visage in front of me.
He’s sat on an old trunk in the corner with his legs crossed…
legs! My eyes trail upward and take in his solid frame, he’s got on giant black boots with rows of buckles and dark leather pants.
His torso is covered by a sleeveless hoodie, with his arms wrapped in a dark gray fabric that spirals down to his elbow.
The rest of his arm is covered in laced-up leather bracers with open-fingered gloves, which makes me pause to take in his skin.
It’s pitch black, with a disconcerting swirling effect just under the surface.
My eyes shoot to his face and I clear my throat to hide my shock.
He has a face. Well, kind of. The hood from his hoodie is pulled up but set back a bit to show off a swath of inky black locs.
His face seems to be made up of two parts—the top half is that of a human skull, which he wears almost like a mask over his dark skin.
From the bottom of his nose down it’s the same pitch-black skin with underlying swirls.
I move forward impulsively, suddenly fascinated and wanting to get a better look.
“Hey, buddy! If you’re done checking me out I have some news.” Seth’s dark mouth quirks with humor. His eyes which are still whirling blue orbs, the size and shape of a normal eye inside of his sockets, dance with unchecked mirth.
I smirk in his direction and run a hand along the back of my neck in chagrin. “Sorry, Seth.” I pull in a breath and stop before him, that same vaguely familiar mingling of spices playing at my nose. “You have news? Already?”
He sits up and leans forward before answering, “So I spoke with all of my connections and they all came back with the same answer. No witch is gonna help us.”
My shoulders sag in defeat but I nod my head, “That’s okay Seth, thank you for —”
“I’m not done,” Seth glares at me with mock annoyance and I huff. “No witch will help, but there is talk of a necromancer who might.”
I stare blankly at my new, clearly deranged friend. “A necromancer.”
“Yup,” he pops the ‘p’ and I want to smack him and that jolly countenance right off his face.
A fucking necromancer. He’s got to be joking.
I’m eternally trapped in a house thanks to a witch I trusted with my life, and he wants me to ask the equivalent of a witch on crack who deals in death for help?
Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. It’s just not worth the risk.
Not now, when I have Trissa to make my days tolerable…
good, even. A small smile spreads across my lips and I look back at Seth.
“As much as I appreciate the effort, I don’t think that’s something I want to mess around with. What happens if I never complete the ritual? There’s not like some deadline before I poof out of existence is there?”
“… No.” Seth tilts his head as his eyes focus in on me with renewed interest, “but you’ll be stuck in this house forever.”
My stomach sinks with disappointment but it’s not as bitter a feeling as it would have been even just a couple of days ago. “Okay.”
Seth’s eye sockets widen and I wonder at how they can do that if it’s made of bone, as his orbs flash with surprise.
“Well… okay then.” He sits back against the wall and crosses his arms, staring at me all the while.
A mischievous grin cracks open his mouth, and I catch a glimpse of dangerously sharp-looking teeth.
“Who is she? He?” He purses his lips and I can’t help but let loose a laugh as he continues. “Whose halls are you haunting?”
“Her name is Trissa. She moved in yesterday.” My stomach swoops and I hesitate briefly, suddenly not wanting to share any part of her… even with Seth. “I’m claiming her.”
Seth lifts his hands innocently and shakes with laughter, “She’s all yours, bud. I’m not cut out for romantic crap.” His laughter dies and a pained expression flits over his face so fast I almost think I made it up, but then he sighs, “No point. They all cross over, eventually.”
The mood shifts and I glance at Seth trying to figure out what I should say, or if he even wants me to say anything. Before I can make up my mind Seth jumps up and brushes some of the accumulated dust from the trunk off the seat of his pants.
“As much as I’d love to stay and hold hands while we bond over our dark and twisty feelings, if there’s nothing else, it’s my day off and I have a coffee date with a necromancer to cancel.”
I gape at him before grinding out a response, “You already contacted the necromancer?”
Seth shrugs and shadows start to circle around his legs, working their way up to wrap around his torso as they pick up speed, “I move fast, buddy.”
A frown pulls at my mouth and I start to say something, but Seth cuts me off. “And hey, don’t be jealous. I would have asked you out to coffee but ya know…” He gestures toward my ghostly form and scowls. “Cock blocked by a witch.”
“Uhm, I don’t know what normally happens when you go to coffee, but my pants stay firmly in place, Seth.”
He casually waves a hand in the air in dismissal, “potato, pah-tah-toe.” He’s almost fully shrouded in shadow now, and leans forward quickly, his face suddenly serious. “If you change your mind, just call for me.”
My chest clenches momentarily, his sincere extension of friendship has filled part of the gaping wound Leona left behind, but I trusted her with everything I had, everything I was.
It’ll take time before I get comfortable letting down the walls I’ve inadvertently been building up for the past fifty years.
But, for the first time in so many years, I want to.
I look into the swirling shadows that have started to recede in on themselves and shout, “Thank you.”
A faint laugh sounds out as the shadows dissipate and I smile to myself, feeling hopeful that between Trissa and Seth my next fifty years will look nothing like the previous half century.