Spirits

Chapter Seven

Marvin paced through the empty house.  Although it had been twenty-four hours since Rose's attack there was still a lingering electric charge in the air.  Something about it bothered Marvin, like it belonged to a distant memory that he couldn't quite place.  He stepped through the house, his arms folded behind his back, eyes scanning each room.

He made his way through the strewn books in the study, past the splintered desk and into the lounge room.  Shattered glass and broken furniture covered the floor, but Marvin was focused solely on the wall next to the fireplace.  He walked slowly up to it, several large shards of glass were buried deep in the wall, a trail of dried blood streaked down from each piece.  Marvin could not quite believe that Rose was still alive, people rarely escaped a spirit who was powerful enough to do this. He and Lewis had visited many such sites over the years, the traumatic deaths often led to the formation of new spirits. The hunters today called them 'cubs' because of their animalistic nature and insatiable desire to feed, although Marvin knew them by many other names. They were barely recognisable as the people they once were, appearing distorted and grotesque. Unable to control their spirit form they looked more monster than human, their vengeful, confused and disfigured shells almost always gravitated to their place of death. But Rose was not dead, and Marvin wanted to know why.

A lingering scent of charcoal permeated the air, he initially dismissed it as the fireplace, but as he took a step back he noticed a wide charred circle on the floor boards.  He bent down to inspect it, but whatever had caused the circle of fire was gone. He suddenly felt very uneasy, something very strange was going on here.  He felt the familiar static tingle on the back of his neck again and furrowed his brow, trying to place where in his past he had come across it before.

 - - -

The bright moonlight lit the stone driveway like a white ribbon that led back to the Crater house.  Farrell couldn't be sure how long he'd been out, he'd lost track time of after leaving the train yard.

He picked up a stone and threw it into the darkness, the stillness of the night was interrupted by a solitary splash as the stone landed in the algae covered pond. Farrell imagined it slowly sinking beneath the surface, it would probably never see the light of day again.

An ear-piercing scream cut through the night air. Farrell couldn't see anything, but he knew it had come from the house. He began to sprint towards the front door, but before he got there Rose ran out the door in her white night gown and headed straight towards the woods.

"Rose," Farrell called out, but she didn't respond.  "Rose!" he yelled again louder, but she kept running, disappearing into the tree-line.  Farrell paused, unsure of what to do. He swore under his breath, there was only one thing he could do. He ran after her.

 - - -

Alex rode his bike up the hill, still fuming.  The cut above his eye throbbed and a constant dull ache radiated from his ribs. He had no desire to go home, his parents probably didn't even know he was out. He pulled the bike to the side of the path, taking in his surroundings for the first time. He'd been so angry that he hadn't really been paying attention to where he was going, and now he found himself in the churchyard atop the hill outside town. He hadn't been here in years.  He wheeled his bike through the old cemetery and propped it up against one of the walls of the church. He looked up at the bell tower, Farrell had dared him to climb it once.  He would have only been about six at the time, but the rush he got from climbing to the top was so addictive he used to come here all the time to climb the tower and sit and look over the town. It had been years since he'd last been out here and as he looked up at the bell tower above him he wondered if he could still make it all the way to the top.

It didn't take him long to find the crack in the wall where he could wedge his foot and and boost himself up to the window ledge. From there it was easy enough to grab onto the edge of the roof and shimmy to the butress where he could pull himself onto the roof.  The roof tiles were more cracked and broken than he remembered and as he ran along them to the bell tower, beginning his climb without pausing. All the old hand holds were still there, although he was almost twice as tall as he used to be and didn't need half of them. His hand slipped off a moss covered stone and he dangled for a second on one arm. He looked down, the ground seemed so far away. Farrell refused to climb up here with him, he'd been petrified of heights, but for Alex the rush of free-climbing was addictive.

He reached the window ledge at the top of the bell tower barely breaking a sweat.  He knew the latch on the window never quite locked properly and squeezed his fingers under the frame and pulled it open.  He hoisted himself up onto the ledge and sat looking over the town from the tallest point for miles.   He closed his eyes and let the cool wind blow over the sweat on his face, it was calming.  This was the best he'd felt in a long time. He opened his eyes and surveyed the town, from here all his problems seemed so far away.

He looked down at the ground twenty metres below him and was hit with a dark thought.  All he would need to do would be to just lean forward.  It would all be over in just a few seconds, no one would care, no one would even notice that he was gone.  He tried to shake the thought from his mind, but found himself standing up, closing his eyes and leaning into the breeze.

A noise from somewhere blow him drew him back to the present. He opened his eyes to see a figure in white burst from the forest and dash up the hill and into the church.  He paused quizzically, he thought for a moment he recognised her.  A few seconds later a second figure sprinted from the woods behind her, this time he definitely recognised him.  It was Farrell.

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