Chapter 12 #2
Still holding the black paint, he backs up as far as he can on the ledge, which is not that far, to assess his work.
“Nice,” he says in my voice. He pivots so he can climb down the ladder.
Once his feet hit the ground, he jogs back far enough to fully consider the ghost. “Nice,” he says again.
He takes out my phone and pulls up the camera.
Still muttering to himself, he says, “I can show her later,” as he snaps a few pics.
“Show who?” I ask.
He nearly drops the phone but recovers quickly enough to catch it in mid-air.
“Lacy,” he says in my void. “Hi. Show you.”
Did he…? No way. I ask softly, “Did you paint this for me?”
“Um, well, you like ghosts. So”—he gestures to the billboard—“ghost.”
I can’t control the smile or the incredulous laugh that escapes. This is oddly…sweet? The gesture makes my face warm. “Wow. No one has ever defaced private property for me before. It’s very nice, Kit.”
“I mean, it wasn’t for you.”
“Liar,” I accuse.
He starts to sputter. “It was inspired by you. I always get a little something from anyone I possess. I find myself with a new interest in ghosts.”
I’m still smiling. “Of course. And who’d you take the artistic abilities from?”
He chuckles. “That’s left over from another life.”
“Your life?” I prod, seizing the opportunity.
He doesn’t answer the question. “So, you’re not going to scold me for vandalism?”
My lips purse. He clearly doesn’t realize that no answer to my question is the only affirmative answer I need.
“I don’t see the point,” I respond.
Maybe because his human life was so long in the past, it doesn’t matter to him. I wonder how long he’s been alive—or whatever this version of existing is considered.
“How many other lives have you had, Kit?”
He waits a beat before answering my question with one of his own. “What do you mean?”
I huff out a small sigh. “You know what I mean. How many other people have you possessed? What happened to them?” I’m not sure I even want to know the answer, but it’s too late.
I’ve already put it out there, so I may as well press on.
Knowing my future is dangerous, sure, but not knowing might be worse.
“Let’s start with the man from your memory.
Do you even remember his name? Did you use him until he burned up then abandon him without a care?
” My voice sharpens with each word. I need to know if I’ll disintegrate in here until my body is nothing but an empty vessel.
Kit takes a second to respond. “I remember his name,” he says simply.
“And?”
He scoffs aloud in my voice, pinching the bridge of his nose. In the void he snaps, “And of course, I remember his name, Lacy. That was me.”
I groan, matching his tone and resisting the urge to slam my head against the window. “I know that was you. But who was your host? You know, the person whose life you randomly chose to ruin.”
He groans back at me roughly. With his voice steady and slow but at the risk of erupting at any second, he says, “I understand what you’re asking, but the man you saw was me.
” He slams his hand into his chest twice, hard enough to send a jolt of pain through me.
“That’s what I used to look like, when I was fresh in the demon game.
The memory I showed you was mine, meaning I showed you how I saw things.
I see myself, even if all you would see was the hazy yellow smoke we talked about.
I can see other demons for what they truly are, smoke-less, so that’s also what you saw.
That’s why all of them except the pig looked human.
They were too new to be ruined by the evil that runs through them now.
” He swallows. “Through me now. If I saw any of them now, they don’t look like that. ”
“But you’re human,” I interject. “In my void, you looked the same.”
The eruption I was anticipating breaks the surface.
“I don’t look like that anymore! We’ve all been mutated by our time as demons, each of us growing more and more disfigured as time goes by and takes away every ounce of humanity we might have left!
I’m so sorry that I used to look normal and if that’s confusing for you.
I’m sorry you can’t get past this, but I am not human.
” His voice cracks on that last sentence.
I purse my lips, knowing the smart decision would be to stay quiet and call it a night. Guess I’m not very bright. “Kit, do you want to be a demon?”
“Why would I not?” he seethes, kicking the ground with his shoe.
“I can do whatever I want. Have whatever or whoever I want. Zero consequences. Unlimited possibilities. It’s the dream, right?
No boundaries. No emotions. No soul. I am perfectly fucking happy with who I am.
And I am perfectly fucking happy to ruin your life. ”
He picks up the extra can of black paint and chucks it at the ghost with strength I know is all his and not mine. The can explodes on the billboard, ruining the painting. Kit stalks off before I can truly observe the damage.
It would be best to stay quiet for a while.