Chapter Nine
damian
The clang of metal faded before I could even drop the dumbbell.
My chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, as hot breath escaped my mouth into the cool air of the gym, accompanied by the music pulsing low in my headphones.
The place smelled like iron and sweat; someone definitely needed to start re-spraying some of that fancy disinfectant.
“Yo, that’s your fifth set,” Jay called, leaning against a bench with a water bottle in his hand. “You training for an exorcism or a triathlon?”
I shot him a grin as I wiped the sweat off my jaw with the edge of my towel. “You never know which one the day would call for.”
He snorts, tossing his bottle cap at me. “You need help, man. It’s the holidays, and normal people are out there eating pies, not benching demons.”
“They pay better,” I shot back, and Marcus laughed from across the room.
“Are you hiring?” Leo asked, and we burst into a fit of laughter.
The four of us, Jay, Marcus, Leo, and I had been doing this same post-workout ritual for years.
Same gym, same teasing, same feeling that the world slows down here, and for a guy whose nights usually involved curses and flickering lights, normalcy like this felt like a gift, like a luxurious gift indeed.
After we finished our sets, we went straight to hit the locker room, filling the air with steam and conversations about everyone’s New Year’s Eve plans.
Marcus had already got that smug look, the one that says he’s got a lake house and too many bottles of whiskey already waiting for us.
“My mom keeps asking about you idiots,” he said, slamming his locker shut. “She still thinks you’re all my college roommates who failed out.”
Leo laughed. “That’s…not entirely wrong.”
Then Jay turned to me, and I already knew what he was going to say or ask.
“You coming this time, D? Or you got another ‘haunted freezer’ or ‘possessed attic’ lined up?” he teased.
Aside from working at the construction site every Saturday, I was mostly doing this, inspecting “haunted freezers” or “possessed attics.” I had thought of quitting a few years back, when this so-called gift became a curse, but when I checked just how much I made from it, I reconsidered my options, and now… now I was glad I didn’t quit.
I shook my head, smirking. “You make it sound like I pick these things.”
“You do,” Marcus countered. “You want the freaky ones. Just admit it.”
He’s not wrong, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Someone’s gotta handle them.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t always have to be you,” Leo said in a soft, concerned tone, the one I knew where it was headed. “Man, when’s the last time you went home? Like home, home?”
I glanced at him through the mirror, meeting my reflection staring back…damp hair falling over my brow, my headphones hanging around my neck, and eyes that looked more tired than I remembered.
“Mom’s fine,” I muttered. “I’ll call her after the weekend.” He doesn’t buy it, but he lets it go.
He was my oldest friend among the rest. We met when we were 12, just a few years after the incident, and he was the first person who believed the strange kid who could see and sense things that weren’t there.
Marcus and Jay came along the way. We met in college, and somehow, telling them about the gift over a very cheap blunt made it easy for them to believe me.
I slung my gym bag over my shoulder and walked alongside the guys, the four of us still running on post-workout adrenaline and caffeine that probably wasn’t good for our hearts.
By the time we stepped outside, the world had gone soft with midday light.
The parking lot was almost empty, the silence broken only by a few distant voices and the steady hum of the highway.
The air stung against my skin, crisp with Christmas cold, but we were still laughing, loud and careless, like the years hadn’t touched us.
“New year, new me,” Marcus cheered, raising an imaginary glass.
“New year, same dumb jokes,” Leo fired back.
I leaned against my truck, smiling. It was stupid, how excited full-grown men were about their planet finally completing its turn around the sun, but it was good, and it felt good.
Jay slapped my shoulder. “Don’t get lost chasing any ghosts tonight, man.”
I opened the door and tossed my gym bag inside. “I don’t chase them, Jay,” I said, sliding behind the wheel. “They chase me.” I winked, and we laughed.
“Bro, your birthday’s in less than a week,” Marcus pointed out. “You’re not spending it chasing or being chased by ghosts again.”
“Might end up celebrating with the ghosts instead of you lot,” I laughed.
“You say that like you have a say in this,” Leo replied.
That earned us another laugh, one last round echoing across the lot even though it faded quickly once everyone went toward their vehicles.
They waved as they all began to drive off, headlights blinking out one by one until I was alone in the parking lot.
I sat there for a moment, letting the music fill the air, my fingers drumming against the steering wheel.
My playlist was halfway through an old Arctic Monkeys track when the phone on the dashboard started buzzing.
A random number…no message, no contact photo, just the faint buzz of the screen against the console.
I should ignore it, maybe wait until I had gotten home, because the last thing I wanted was having a long conversation over something that was probably going to be another sleepless night, over something like a raccoon in someone’s attic.
But the moment I look at the number again, really look at it, and a chill runs down my spine.
Not out of fear, or worry, more like recognition, a tingle of some sort, a tug in my chest, the kind I’ve learned over the years not to question.
So I took a deep breath, then answered. “Hello?”
But I got nothing, just slow, uneven breathing. I straightened in my seat. “Hello?” I repeated, gentler this time. “You’ve reached Damian Hale.” Still nothing, except the faintest sound, like a stifled whimper that escaped by accident. It was a woman.
“Hey,” I said, lowering my voice. “You don’t have to say anything yet. Just…breathe. Can you do that?” The line crackled, and I could hear her trying to control her breath, small tremors hidden beneath the silence.
“I’m not here to judge,” I continued quietly. “Whatever it is you think you’ve seen, whatever’s happening, you’re not crazy for calling.”
There was a pause, followed by the faintest whisper, shaky and tired “…You believe me?”
I smiled to myself. “I wouldn’t have picked up if I wasn’t going to.”
That got her, and the next breath she let out was softer, almost relieved. “I…I wasn’t sure you’d answer. I almost hung up.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” I leaned back against the seat. “Why don’t you tell me your name first?”
“Oh right,” she giggled, so lightly I almost missed it. “Elena.” There was something about the way she said it, hesitant, almost like she was unsure of it herself, that pulled something in me.
“Elena,” I repeated, tasting the name. “Pretty name.”
A tiny laugh escaped her, a little nervous but real. “You sound like the type that says that to everyone who calls.”
I chuckled. “Only the ones who breathe like they’re running from something.”
Then the silence returned again, but not as empty. “It’s been…strange lately. I don’t know how else to say it,” she said calmly.
“You can start anywhere,” I encouraged. “Whatever comes first is more than enough.”
So she did. Her words tumbled in fragments at first, from the quiet family house, to the storms that didn’t match the forecast, then the way the air sometimes shifted at midnight. She didn’t mention fear outright, but it laced every pause.
“Have you always lived there alone?” I asked.
“No, no, I’ve been here for just a few days,” she said. “My parents died last year, and my brother’s supposed to visit in a few days, but…until then it’s just me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“It’s okay. I’m…I’m used to the silence, but this is different.” There was a sadness in the way she said it, it wasn’t heavy or a pity show, it felt like an extension of herself, like something worn out from being used too long.
I wanted to keep her talking, so I asked, “You say you haven’t slept since you got in?”
“Not before 3 am.” She hesitated. “I keep seeing him…it,” she corrected, and that stuck, but I let her continue. “Feeling things, and hearing things. But maybe it’s just me being stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Elena,” I assured her faster than I had planned.
Her voice went quiet again. “You really believe that?”
“I do.”
Another small laugh, but this one was warmer. “You sound too sure of yourself. You don’t even know me.”
“That’s part of the job description, and I do know you. You’re Elena, are you not?”
She chuckled this time, and I could only wonder if that made her less tense. “You said your name was Damian?”
“Yeah.”
“Damian,” she repeated slowly. “You sound…calm.”
“I have to be,” I said with a smile she couldn’t see. “Otherwise, who’d believe me when I say I see ghosts?”
That got a real laugh out of her, it was light, melodic, a sound I hadn’t realized I needed to hear until it filled my truck.
I found myself wanting to hear it again, so I kept her talking for the next ten or so minutes.
I asked harmless questions to keep her anchored, why she was back home, where home was, what she did for work, her friends.
Something about her was off, sentences she almost slipped out but stopped, but as I tried to keep her talking, I realized that somewhere in there, I didn’t want to hang up.
Eventually, the clock on my dashboard blinked 1:13 p.m., and I forced myself to speak.
“Elena…I want you to try and get some rest. Keep the lights on if it helps, and eat some food. I’ll be there later this evening to check things out, alright?”
“You will?” Her voice brightened just a bit.
“Promise.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you, Damian.”
“Anytime.”
There was a pause. Neither of us ended the call, so I just listened to her breathing again, how it was softer now, steadier even.
“Well,” I said finally. “I guess I’ll see you soon, Elena.”
“I’ll be here,” she said, her voice smiling through the line. “You sure you don’t need the address?”
“Everyone in town knows your house, Elena. I’ll find you.”
“Okay,” she laughed right before the call ended, but the echo of her laughter stayed long after.
As I started the engine, I caught myself grinning like an idiot. I didn’t know her, not really, but her voice clung to me, like a quiet melody threading through the noise in my head. And for the first time in a long time, I wanted night to come faster.