Chapter Ten #2
I didn’t look up. “Yeah.” And I left it there, letting the loud silence follow.
She knelt down as I began to light the candles one by one, her eyes following every movement I made, the spark of the matches, the smoke curling, and the deliberate pacing of my hands.
“What are those for?” she asked, pointing to the small bottles.
“Protection oils,” I explained, coating the circle’s edge with a thin sheen of it. “Each one holds a resonance. Together, they form a barrier strong enough to keep the living in, and the dead out.”
She smirked faintly. “Comforting, and very professional, truly.”
“Humor helps,” I murmured, smiling just enough to make her relax. “Keeps the bad things confused.”
She laughed softly, but her eyes stayed wide, alert, searching.
“You really believe this, don’t you?” she asked after a beat.
“Belief keeps people alive,” I said. “Especially in situations like these.”
Her gaze lingered on me. “You sound like someone who’s seen things.”
“I’ve seen enough.”
The air around us thickened, like we were breathing syrup.
I felt it, the subtle tug that came before a manifestation.
Not enough to scare me yet, but enough to make the hairs on my arms rise.
I tried to keep my focus steady, but she kept talking, maybe to distract herself, maybe to fill the silence that was turning heavier by the second.
Either way, I welcomed it, liked it way more than I should.
Usually I would ask the people to do less talking or none at all, but with her, I couldn’t.
Not hearing her voice was almost more terrifying than hearing ghosts and entities in the silence.
“It’s not just a ghost, you know,” she whispered. “This thing…it’s ruthless. It doesn’t just haunt. It hates. It…enjoys fear. He…it’s evil and vile, and very depraved.”
My eyes lifted from the flame. “You’ve seen it?” I squinted, something about how she talked about it pricked me, how it felt like she was holding back more than she’d given.
“No, footprints only.” Her hands trembled. “It whispers my name. Sometimes it laughs, or tries to urmm…touch me.”
That last part made my stomach twist. “Spirits do that,” I said quietly. “Most times trying to reach for the life inside of you. Think about it like reaching for the sun or wanting to know where the rainbow ends.”
Her voice cracked. “It’s vile. It says things that…” She stopped, then looked away.
“What things?” I asked softly now.
She shook her head, hugging herself tighter. “Forget it, it doesn’t matter now.”
It did matter, but I let it go. Whatever she was hiding, it wasn’t my place to push. People only tell the truth when they’re ready, or when the dark forces it out of them. And for her sake, and maybe mine, I did hope she would tell me when she was ready, and not when it was forced out.
When the last candle was lit, we sat in the center of the circle, our legs crossed as the flames enclosed us in a ring of trembling light.
It was almost beautiful, the illusion of safety wrapped in danger.
Her hair caught the candlelight, strands glinting gold, her breath very visible in the cooling air.
She rubbed her hands together. “You feel that?”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “It’s starting.” I checked the time, a few minutes to midnight, and the temperature had dropped another degree.
She tried to distract herself with conversation. “It happened on my birthday, you know,” she said quietly. “My parents’ car crash.”
I looked at her, really looked. “When’s your birthday?” I asked, half because I was following her story, half because I wanted to get her a gift.
“Christmas Day,” she shrugged.
“Wait what?” I frowned and stared at her. “Tomorrow’s your birthday?”
She nodded, forcing a shaky smile. “Yup! Didn’t think I’d be here to celebrate it, but now that I am, I’m fighting off a ghost,” she laughed dryly.
Maybe it was the way she said it, how the flames looked in her eyes or how beautiful she looked in-between them that pulled something in my chest. That took me back to the time I was certain I wasn’t going to be here for my next birthday.
Maybe it was how I was subconsciously letting this woman take me to places I thought I had long forgotten.
Whatever it was, I was stupidly welcoming it in, and enjoying it.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad I’m fighting ghosts with you, Elena.” As the words left my mouth, her eyes met mine, and for a moment, the air stopped moving.
There was something about the way she looked at me, like she was trying to memorize my face, or maybe search for something familiar.
It made my chest feel too tight. Then, my hands moved by themselves, reaching out for hers, and gently resting on them, just barely, but enough to feel how cold she was.
Skin against skin, so calmly I could almost feel her blood move through her veins, it was igniting, despite the cold air around us, and the moment lasted longer than I could imagine, neither of us pulling away.
“Damian, there’s something I…” she barely got the words out when the sound came in, a slow creak from somewhere above, followed by a whisper too soft to understand.
Elena stiffened. “Damian…”
“Don’t speak,” I whispered. “Don’t move.” The candles flickered all at once, shadows lurching across the walls. I reached for the silver chain, feeling its hum against my palm, something was coming.
She exhaled shakily, and I felt her hand tighten around mine, her pulse a broken rhythm against my skin.
‘I thought the scariest thing waiting for me in this house was the ghost,’ I thought as I looked at her as her chest heaved uncontrollably, her eyes wide, focusing on me, luminous in the candle light.
‘Turns out,’ I exhaled, ‘it was her.’ And for the first time since I first saw a being that was supposed to be dead, I welcome something scary, something beautiful, but fucking scary.