12. The dark has teeth
twelve
The dark has teeth
EWAN
The darkness in the basement feels hateful and evil, almost slimy, like something oozing from a festering wound. Lana was right, it can’t be the house. It’s something else entirely. Something we shouldn’t trifle with.
But James taunts the dark, and the dark has teeth. The spirit makes itself known. I thought the Burning Crone was bad, but this is worse... so much worse.
The ghost of a woman slithers out of the void, quiet and pale.
She has long, dark hair, unbound and messy on one side while still up in an hairdo on the other, as if she pulled on it in despair.
Her pretty blue dress and corset have darker stains at the front.
Blood, I realise. There is blood coming out of her eyes and mouth, too.
My body goes rigid with fear as she slowly floats towards us, red tears spilling out of her wide eyes. James keeps the flashlight aimed at her, and the air is thick with spores and dust.
“Holy shit,” Lana whispers. “Shit, shit, shit...”
“What do you want?” James shouts at the spirit.
Why isn’t he afraid? Can’t he feel the evil malice coming from the entity?
“James... please...” I choke out, trying to pull him back.
A buzzing sounds echoes around us. At first, I think it’s the blood rushing through my eardrums, but when the noise intensifies, I realise it’s coming from the ghost. She opens her mouth wide and screams. Her voice is inhuman and loud enough to shatter the glass of the flashlight.
“I release you from the house!” I shout, voice trembling.
It doesn’t hurt to try. It worked for the others.
The ghost screams again, as if she didn’t even register my words.
BOOM. Another impact hits the house, and more dust rains from the ceiling, followed by entire chunks of plaster. The light bulb above us flickers dangerously.
The spirit vomits phantom blood, then her entire body seizes as she floats towards us.
“James!” I shout.
This time, he lets me pull him back. Just as the ghost is about to reach us, the cats come running down the basement stairs, darting between our legs.
They hiss and growl, rushing the ghost like a wave of fur and claws.
We step away, and the heavy door slams in front of us.
The house has locked us out once again. The door rattles violently, as if something is hitting it from the other side.
“Run,” Lana gasps.
This time, James doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs both our hands and drags us up the stairs and to the ground floor. The second door slams behind us, too.
“The cats,” I say, panicked.
“They’ll be fine!” Lana shouts. “They’re part of the house now, she’ll protect them.”
But will the house be fine? And what will happen to the cats if the hostel crumbles? What will happen to us and all the guests?
We reach the entrance hall and stop running. My feet catch in the carpet, and James steadies me with surprising strength. I’m hyperventilating from fear.
The tremor in the ground recedes, and we wait. Will the ghost come after us?
The silence hangs heavy around us.
Lana turns away from us, heaving. I immediately go to her and rub her back.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, squeezing my hand.
“Who the fuck was that?” James asks, still holding the flashlight like a weapon.
“I don’t know,” Lana says. “I always felt like something was off down there, but the ghost never showed her face until today. But I...” she trails off.
“What?”
“Lana?” calls a voice. We look up and find Shirley at the top of the grand staircase in a bathrobe and slippers. “What’s going on? Lucifer woke me.”
Lana lets out a sob, and in an instant Shirley comes running down the stairs.
She loses a slipper on the way but keeps running until she smothers Lana in her embrace.
My heart gives a twinge of envy. I dare a glance at James, wanting to throw myself into his arms too but he’s glaring at the hallway leading to the basement.
Don’t be stupid, I tell myself. You're just having fun in bed. Don’t expect more than what he can give you.
“It looks like the cats and the house kept the ghost in check,” James says. “But for how long?” He turns to us. “We need to figure out what to do now.”
Lana nods. “Let’s go to my office.”
As soon as the four of us step into Lana’s office, a fire comes to life in the fireplace. The house is still looking after us, which means she has won the last battle.
Lana drops on the chair behind her desk, colour finally coming back to her face, and Shirley sits on her armrest. James and I take the chairs in front of them.
“I have a theory,” Lana says, rubbing her face tiredly. “There are missing pages in the journal.”
James frowns. “I’m sorry?”
“Earl Fergus Lynch’s journal,” she gestures at the glass case by the bookshelves.
“Some pages are missing, as if someone tore them. He probably did it. I always wondered why. After that, his entries got weird, as if he was losing his mind, but I always thought it was because he was sick. He died of syphilis. But do you know what was before the torn pages?” When we shake our heads, she continues.
“He talked about the woman he met during a soiree who could see ghosts.”
Understanding dawns on me. “The one like me?”
“Yes. He was jealous and obsessed. She was a pretty woman with dark hair. Noble born.”
Just like our basement resident.
“You think he killed her,” James says.
My eyes widen, and I look between them.
Lana nods. “Probably poison, judging by the state of our ghost. And she’s been haunting the house ever since. He must have written it in his journal, then later tore the pages in shame of his crime.”
“Evil bastard,” Shirley mutters.
“So there's a sixth vengeful spirit in the house. Great. And we still need to deal with the lady in Red.”
Lana sigh deeply. “I’m sorry. I’ll understand if you want to quit the job. This is not what you signed up for.”
“Actually, it is.” I laugh awkwardly. “The contract we signed pretty much covers everything from dismemberment to spontaneous combustion.”
James raises an eyebrow. “It does?”
“You didn't read it before signing?”
“I skimmed it.”
“Let’s just say we’re still pretty much in the boundaries of what working for ExorSquad entails.”
It’s his turn to laugh. “Wonderful. I’ll call Pickett first thing tomorrow.
The least they can do is send us reinforcements to deal with this ghost. And we need to learn proper ways to exorcise evil spirits.
This one looks like she’s here by choice, and simply ask her to leave nicely won’t really cut it. ”
Lana looks between us, hopeful. “You’re staying?”
James smiles at her. “Of course we are.” He looks at me, expectant, and I nod. “We’re not letting you deal with this alone. And I’m getting quite attached to this house.” He pats the wood floor by his feet. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”
The lights in the room glow brighter for a moment in response, and both women come around the desk to hug us.
There is a loud meow from the hallway and Misty enters the office, her fluffy tail up. I let out a sigh of relief. Misty jumps over the desk and unto Lana’s lap.
“Told you they’d be fine,” she says, stroking the cat. “They’re unstoppable now that they’re part of the house. No door can keep them in check and no one can hurt them. I saw them fight off a group of drunk men once. Let’s say the men bit the dust.”
To my surprise James smiles and tentatively pets Misty. She rubs her face on his hand, and he looks tense but pleased. “Thank you for saving us,” he says to her.
She purrs like an engine.
“Do you think it’s all connected?” I ask. “The house, the ghosts, the cats...”
Lana shrugs. “Who knows? I’ve been wondering the same since I came here. Do all places become sentient over time, or do some things need to align for it to happen? Is it the occult practices of Earl Lynch that started this, or the ghosts?”
“Or it could be us,” Shirley says, smiling fondly. “It could be the many people who work and live here. Or the guests who come and go. There is magic in human interactions.”
Lana smiles too. “You’re right. This house is good, so it’d make sense if she came from something good, too.”
The flames in the fireplace burn brighter for a moment.
“We’ll deal with this mess. I promise,” James says, standing up.
“Now, we still have a few hours before sunrise, and we need to sleep. Tomorrow—or today, I guess, considering the hour—we’ll take a look at that old journal of yours.
We’ll figure out a plan. It looks like the ghost is under control for now. ”
We all nod tiredly.
James offers me a hand to pull me to my feet, and we bid the girls goodnight then head out to our room.
Once the door is safely closed behind us, he helps me undress without saying a word and drops gentle kisses on my lips.
There is nothing sexual about it, we’re both exhausted to the bone.
It’s almost four in the morning. In the past hours we hunted the ghost of a French nobleman, made out on the rooftop under the rain, sucked each other’s dicks, took a shower, then faced another ghost in the basement.
My emotions are a tangle of knots I don’t have the energy to unravel tonight.
We get rid of our dusty clothes and only keep our boxer briefs on. Then James gently urges me to climb into bed, and he turns off the light. He spoons me from behind—being the little spoon is almost the highlight of my night, right after sucking him—and we both fall asleep in no time.
I’m awakened by the best sensation ever: something pleasantly warm and wet around my cock.
It takes me a moment to connect the dots, to understand where I am and what is going on.
The light is subdued in the room, it’s raining heavily outside, and droplets are hitting the small window.
Then I peek under the cover and find James nibbling the tip of my erection.
“Oh...” I gasp.
“Is that okay?” he asks, fluttering his lashes. “Your morning wood was poking me in the stomach, so it gave me an idea.”