Oracle of Spirits #1 Page 2

  "You're Enid Runa, aren't you?" he asked me.

  "Who wants to know?" I returned.

  He looked at me out of the corners of his eyes and studied my face and body. "I heard about your case, and I thought I could help you."

  "So are you a detective or something?" I asked him.

  The man chuckled. "Or something," he replied.

  He pulled a card from his overcoat and handed it to me. I read the contents out-loud.

  "Paranormal Detective Ian Osman." There was a phone number at the bottom. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

  "Very serious, and I'd like to help you with your problem," he told me.

  "How are you going to help me?" I asked him.

  "I heard the details of your case from a friend and thought you had a good chance of being haunted by a malevolent spirit," he explained.

  I scoffed. "I don't think there's any way a spirit would suddenly haunt the house I've been in for two years unless it's the ghost of a chicken, and that definitely didn't look like a chicken," I assured him. I held out his card and he took it back. "Thanks for the help, but no thanks."

  He pocketed the card and studied my face. "It gave you a chill before you saw it, didn't it?" he guessed.

  I frowned. "How'd you know that?"

  "And you could see your breath, couldn't you?" he persisted.

  I stood and glared down at him. "Now you're just guessing."

  He looked up at me and took the cigarette out of his mouth. "But I'm guessing right, aren't I?"

  I sighed and grudgingly nodded. "Yeah."

  He stood and placed the cigarette back in his mouth. "Then I can help you because these guys are just going to look at you like you're nuts."

  I snorted and turned away from him. "Welcome to the story of my life."

  "Pardon?" he asked.

  I shook my head and waved my hand in front of me. "It's nothing. Anyway, thanks for the offer, but-" He held up his hand.

  "I've heard all the usual reasons for brushing me off," he interrupted me. "And I'm going to tell you I get calls back from ninety-five percent of people telling me to come over after they've had another paranormal experience. Do you really want to go through that, or can we cut it out and let me get my job done?"

  "Only ninety-five?" I mused.

  He grinned and shrugged. "Nobody's perfect."

  I sighed and looked him over. He didn't have the appearance of a psychopath, or at least the usual tell-tale signs I got from the patients. There was consistent eye contact, a clean appearance, no fidgeting, and no aura around him like he had a god complex. An ego, but no complex.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged. "All right, I'll let you come home with me, but you do anything funny and the cops will need a real detective to find your body."

  "Then let's go," he suggested. He walked past me and towards the doors.

  I reached out my hand. "Wait a sec. I still need to fill out my report."

  He paused at the doors and turned to me with a strange half-smile. "Believe me, you don't want to waste time filling anything out here, and if we hurry I can have your ghost exorcised before the night is out or your money back."

  He didn't wait for me to reply but walked through the doors.

  "Hey! Wait a minute!" I yelled as I raced after him.

  I caught up to him on the sidewalk just outside the police station. He walked fast and his overcoat billowed behind him. It made it hard not to get whacked by the thing.

  "You never said anything about payment," I reminded him.

  He chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't charge you anything for my services."

  I frowned at him. "Then what's in it for you?"

  The smile slid off his lips and his cigarette hung low. "Let's just say I have a score to settle with someone, and each destroyed poltergeist and spirit put to rest is a win for me."

  "So it's personal?" I guessed.

  "Very," he assured me. He stopped in front of a red convertible with the top down and hopped over the door and into the driver's seat. "Get in," he told me.

  I looked over the car. "You sure this job isn't going to cost me an arm and a leg?"

  He smiled and the end of the cigarette that dangled from his lips glowed red in the dim light. "Positive, now get in."

  I slid into the passenger seat and he pulled out. We sped through the heavy traffic of the Friday night, and I clung to my door handle as we zipped through and between cars.

  "Mind slowing down? I'd like to live to see another day," I called to him.

  He ignored my question, but slowed from break-neck speed to break-arm. "So I'm guessing this is your first haunting?" he asked me without looking at me.

  "Yeah, I'm practically a virgin," I quipped.

  A grin slid onto his lips and his eyes flickered to me. "I could do something about that."

  I felt my cheeks redden and I glared at him. "This is a business deal, Mr. Osman, and my occupation isn't prostitute."

  He looked away from me, but the smile didn't fade. "What is your occupation, Miss Runa?"

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced at my side of the street. "I'm a secretary for a mental health clinic."

  "The pay any good?" he wondered.

  "It keeps me fed," I replied.

  "Well fed, by the looks," he commented.

  I whipped my head to him and ground my teeth together. "I'm not fat! I'm just big-boned!"

  He held up his hands and the car steered on its own. "No complaints here. I happen to like shapely women."

  I sank into my chair and glared at the windshield. I was inwardly flattered, and outwardly disgusted. "Let's just get home."

  "As you wish."

  He drove me to my townhouse and we parked out front. Fred sat on his stoop in an old broken lawn chair. He jumped to his feet and moved over to the railing closest to us.

  "Who's that guy?" Fred snapped at me as he jerked his head towards the detective.

  "A-"

  "An old friend," Osman spoke up.

  I gave him a glare and unlocked the door to my house.

  Fred's eyes swept over Osman and his look got uglier. He showed off what was left of his yellow teeth with a sneer. "Never seen you before."

  "I don't get out much," the detective replied.

  Fred glared at him and turned to me. "So what's going on around here? I thought I heard a TV blaring and saw the cops come."

  "I accidentally turned my TV up too high and got called on by someone," I lied. "They took me to the station for a statement."

  Fred's eyes flickered to Osman. "Are you a cop?"

  Osman smiled and shook his head. "I don't have that pleasure."

  Fred snorted. "Ain't no pleasure around here. It's liable to get you shot at, if you know what I mean."

  "Perfectly," Osman assured him.

  I noticed the detective's indifferent attitude irked my creep of a neighbor. Fred wasn't my favorite human, but I didn't want him to hate me. It would make him that much more difficult to deal with. I pushed open the door and wrapped my arm around one that belonged to the detective.

  "Well, it's always nice talking to you, Fred, but we really need to get inside and-um, reminisce about old times," I told him.

  Fred leaned on the railing and pursed his lips. "If you've been at the station then who was turning the TV up all those times for the last half hour?" he asked us.

  I froze and felt my blood run cold, but I managed an unconvincing chuckle. "Guess I'll have to scold my dog for watching TV while I'm out. Anyway, we'll see you later."

  I shoved the detective inside and shut the door hard behind us. I leaned against the door and shuddered. The detective turned to me and raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm guessing you don't have a dog who likes to watch TV," he commented.

  I shook my head. "Not even a cat," I assured him.

  "I see."

  The detective strode forward and swept the room with his eyes. I noticed his eyes had a strang
e tint to them, almost like they reflected light really well. His teasing demeanor was dropped for a serious look. He wandered through the dining room and into the kitchen to the hanging grocery bags, and back to the burst eggs where he paused.

  "And you're sure you've never experienced anything like this before?" he asked me.

  I snorted. "I think I'd-" A memory hit my brain like a punch to the chin.

  The alley. That cold feeling.

  The detective looked up at me and frowned. "What is it?" he questioned me.

  I bit my lip. "I. . .well, I might have felt something tonight when I was walking home from the grocery store."

  "What did you feel?" he persisted.

  I shrugged. "I don't know. Some sort of a chill, I guess. Kind of like-"

  "Someone walked over your grave?" he guessed.

  I blinked at him, but gave a nod. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

  He turned away and walked through the kitchen to the living room. "So you suspect that the spirit followed you?" he asked me.

  I followed him and shrugged. "How should I know? But if it did I don't want to keep it." The detective stepped between the TV and the couch, and he turned to TV.

  My eyes widened as I was struck with the realization that he was replaying what had happened earlier step for step. The pause at the grocery bags, my going up to the eggs, then into the living room where the TV clicked on. He was playing me. That is, he was following my steps exactly.

  I stepped into the living room, but made sure I had easy access to the front door through either the kitchen or the hall.

  "How are you replaying my steps?" I questioned him. "I didn't fill out a police report, and I didn't give the cops this much info."

  He faced the TV and his tense face reflected in the dark glass. "Let's just say I have a keen smell for these things," he admitted.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "Let's not, and say I'd like to know who the hell you really are. Are you in on this? Is this some sort of joke by Fred or-"

  I jumped when there came a heavy thud from directly above us. The detective rushed up to me and pulled me behind him. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the stairs.

  "Do you have a roommate?" he asked me.

  My heart thumped loudly as I shook my head. "No."

  "Then stay here. I'll go see what that was," he told me.

  "Like hell I am," I retorted.

  "All right, but stay behind me," he ordered me.

  CHAPTER 4

  He led the way up the stairs to the hallway on the second floor. The doors to the two rooms lay on our left. The closest to the stairs was the large bedroom, and the second one was the small bathroom. The noise had come from the bedroom, and he moved over to that door. I remained attached to his back and was right behind him when he grabbed the knob. He reached into his coat with his other hand and looked over his shoulder at me.

  "Move back down the hall," he ordered me. "And get ready."

  "For what?" I whispered.

  "We'll see," he replied.

  I pursed my lips, but stepped down the hall closer to the bathroom. My heart thumped so loud in its chest I wondered how it didn't alert the intruder to our presence.

  He flung the door into the room and jumped back. His hidden hand pulled out a slip of rectangular paper with some thick black writing on one side and he held it out in front of him like a small dagger he meant to throw. I held my breath waiting for the dark shadow to fly out and attack the detective.

  Good thing I breathed out because nothing happened.

  The detective relaxed his stance and frowned. He disappeared into the room and I heard his feet clack along the old wood floor. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

  "I guess we imagined it," I spoke up.

  The bathroom door behind me flew open. I spun around in time to see the dark shadow from earlier leap out and fly towards me. Its pale white hands reached for my neck and its burning eyes froze me in place. My eyes widened and I raised my arms to protect myself.

  The detective slid out of my room and sprinted towards me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed me against his side as he held up the slip of paper. The black creature stopped so suddenly that its cloak billowed out in front of itself. The thing dropped its hands to its sides and glared at us from two yards away.

  "This is none of your concern," the creature hissed.

  "Humanity is my concern," Osman shot back. "Now what do you want with the girl?"

  I whipped my head to the detective and glared at him. "I'm not that young!" I snapped.

  The creature in front of us let out a raspy chuckle. "You foolish mortal. You believe a protection talisman can prevent me from my prey?"

  "It can do more than that," the detective countered. "It can destroy you."

  The creature hissed and tensed. "Nothing you hold can destroy me."

  The black thing sprang at us with its long hands outstretched. Its fingers lengthened into claws that would have skewered us clear through. The detective tossed the paper like a ninja tosses a star, and the slip of parchment cut through the air and stabbed itself into the creature's chest over the heart.

  The thing let out a blood-curdling scream and fell face-first onto the floor a foot short of where we stood. Its body twitched for a short while before it stilled. I clutched onto the detective's shirt and shuddered. It was a close call.

  Unfortunately, it wasn't done. The thing shuddered and raised itself onto its arms. I saw black blood ooze from around the stiff paper. It clutched its chest with one pale hand as its eyes glared at us as though we looked into the fires of hell.

  "You. . .who are you?" it gasped.

  The detective slipped out of my grasp and knelt down in front of the black thing. "Someone who doesn't like you," he quipped.

  Osman reached out and yanked the paper from the creature's chest. The paper left a slit that widened. The hole spread over the creature's body, and caused its black body parts to crumble into small specks that disappeared before they reached the floor. The thing tilted back its head and let out a long wail. I clapped my hands over my ears and cringed at the terrible, echoing sound. The rest of its body was consumed and transformed into the vanishing specks until nothing remained.

  The detective stood and pocketed the clean piece of paper. He turned to me with a smile.

  "You won't have any more trouble with that thing," he assured me.

  I realized my mouth was open and my ears were still clapped over my ears. I snapped my mouth shut and pointed at the empty floor.

  "W-what the hell was that?" I questioned him.

  "A dark spirit. One of the worst in the paranormal world," he explained. He studied me and his smile slipped off his lips. "Do you have any idea why it would have followed you home, and what it wanted with you?"

  I partially turned away from him and threw my arms up. "How am I supposed to know? I just walked home form the store and it was here!"

  "They're usually attracted to others like them, or to humans who have a certain aura around them," he told me.

  Osman's eyes narrowed and they took on a strange, terrifying hue. Their autumn depths changed to a distinct bright yellow that made me stumble back. They had the look of a predator, and I had no doubt of where I stood on the food chain. He reached into his overcoat at the same place where he'd taken out the sharp-as-a-dagger piece of paper.

  "Do any of those descriptions fit you?" he questioned me.

  I stepped back way from him and held my hands in front of me. "Wait a minute. I'm the victim here, remember? The haunted one. Scared out of her mind. That ring a bell?"

  He took a step towards me. "Paranormal creatures have been known to masquerade as humans," he countered.

  I rolled my eyes and gestured down at myself. "If I was a paranormal creature would I really take this chubby a form?"

  "They've been known to take worse," he told me.

  I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Listen, I don't know why
it followed me or why it stuck around, okay? I just want you, your piece of paper, and this night to just go away. I'm really grateful for your help, and I'll be really glad to pay you for your trouble, but this has kind of taken a couple of years off my life and I'd like to keep what's left of them, so could you please stop scaring the shit out of me and leave?"

  The detective scrutinized me for a few seconds before he dropped his hand. He rummaged in his pocket before he held out another one of his cards. "All right, I'll believe you, but keep my card. Just in case."

  I furrowed my brow, but took the card. "Why? The thing's gone, isn't it?"

  "Until we can figure out why it followed you home others may do the same," he pointed out.

  "'We?' I want nothing to do with this," I told him.

  "I'm afraid it can't be helped. You're who it wanted," he reminded me.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned. "Wonderful. . ." I muttered. I sighed and dropped my hand. "Anything else I should know before you disappear into the darkness?"

  Osman walked up to me so we stood shoulder to shoulder and faced different directions. There was a mischievous smile on his lips that made me frown. "Only that it was a pleasure to work for such a beautiful woman."

  I blushed and turned away from him. "Yeah, well, nice to meet you, too," I returned.

  "Well, good evening, and-" He paused and frowned. "Hold still for a minute. There's a spider in your hair."

  "What? Where?" I yelped. I reached up to brush my hair through my fingers, but he captured my wrists in one of his hands and pressed his other hand against my scalp.

  "There. Got it," he told me. The detective released my hands and bowed of his head. "Goodnight."

  My shoulders drooped and I sighed. "Goodnight, and I hope goodbye."

  A sly smile slipped onto his lips. "Only Cronus will tell."

  I blinked at him. "Cronus?" I repeated.

  He bowed his head, and strode past me and down the winding staircase. I heard his feet clomp across the floor, and soon after the door opened and shut. I leaned against the closest wall and ran a hand through my hair.

  "Thank god it's over. . ." I mumbled.

  How wrong I was, and how tired I felt from all the harrowing excitement. I shuffled into my bedroom and flicked on the light. My shoulders drooped and I rolled my eyes.