Grimoire - Vol 1. Revelation of Rakshas

23 - Some Much Needed Explanation

"D-Danger?" I repeated, still in disbelief, nay, denial. "Are you-you...are you threatening me?"

"What? No! What part of that sentence sounded like a threat to you?"

It definitely sounded like a threat, didn't it? Or maybe my scared mind is just twisting the words I'm hearing.

"I don't know...sorry, I guess..." Eh, I'll let her take the win here. I'm big-hearted in that way. "So you said you were a...Ginger?" Wait, that doesn't make sense...does it?

"Not a ginger, you idiot. I'm a Grimmer," She corrected me with a proud smile on her face.

"Yes, that..." Am I supposed to know what means? Why isn't she saying anything? I raised my brow, hoping she'd pick up the sign and explain it.

"..." She raised her brow too as if asking what the fudge I was doing.

"...I'm, um, I'm sorry but, um, a-am I supposed to know what that means?"

"Heh, no, of course not. I just like building dramatic moments. I would have been surprised if you actually knew about us."

"Un-huh." Control your anger, Aarav, control your anger.

Control.

"As I said, I am a Grimmer. And so are Ashraf and Ryou." Oh, that's their name. Wait, what's her name? Damn, all this time all I've referred to as is dead witch and mage and sorcerer and the scary and annoyed dead lady. Well, the latter one I kept to myself.

Should I ask for her name? Nah, that'd be awkward at this point. I'll just pretend I know it.

"Grimmers are...well, I suppose you lot have given us a lot of different names over time. Grim reaper, Soul reaper, Yamaduta, Shinigami—but really, just refer to as Grimmers, our actual title."

"A...Grim reaper..."

"Yeah. My team and I have come from a place called Aatmahal located in the realm of Inbetween. Our reason for the visit is to take care of Rakshas problems within this area."

I wonder if she actually said those words or it's just my scared mind-twisting out the words in all the wrong ways.

"So you're like the soul protector squad from heaven taking care of, um, what was it? Rakshas problem, you say?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Oversimplified but, yeah. Good on you to take it all in so well—"

"As if! Do you think you can just spout any nonsense and I'll believe it? The word 'idiot' isn't written on my head!"

"Really? Because from where I stand you do seem to have that written on your forehead."

"You—"

"Kid, come on, you can see dead souls, can't you?" She asked knowing full well of the answer. "Why is this a hard concept for you to grasp?" Well, that's a fair point. It's not like what she said wasn't possible. But it's just that—

"I haven't seen one of you before. I've been able to see ghosts since I was a kid, maybe even a baby but honestly, who remembers stuff from that age," I said. "So, it's really simple, actually. If I see it, I believe it. If I can't see it, well, you get the gist of it. And you, fall in the latter category."

"But...you can see me..."

"And I can see the weeping janitor too, doesn't make him a soul reaper now, does it? For all I know, you're just 3 dead souls that can do few magicky stuff and wear more fashionable clothes."

"You can see who now?"

"Oh, it's just some dead soul that sort of haunts our college. Real annoying guy. Cries a lot, hence the name."

Ah, the weeping janitor. Fortunately, I didn't have the displeasure of seeing him today. He was an old man with a clean-shaven face wearing a white kurta—stained red—along with a white dhoti that turned into a mist around the feet area.

From a much earlier interaction with him, I found out that he was a janitor here at our institution about fifteen years ago and was murdered by someone he couldn't really see. I think they caught the culprit anyway when he tried to hotwire a car but ended up triggering the alarm.

Coincidentally, it was my uncle who caught him. And the car the murderer was trying to steal was his.

Heh, small world, right?

Do you know those ghost stories that almost every town has? The ones that say that some location is haunted by some evil ghost or something and if you visit that place you could hear some voices coming out of nowhere like a screaming one or one of the anklets?

The weeping janitor was the ghost of our college.

By the way, I did not go looking for him. It wasn't my curiosity and love for the occult that led me to investigate his presence. I couldn't care less.

I just happened to walk by the area behind our college because I was free, not hungry and my friends had decided to not attend the lecture that day.

And during my walk, the old guy appeared in front of my sight and, ugh, started weeping.

So I did what any sane person would do—ignored him and kept on walking.

Apparently, the old dead man didn't get what that hint meant and instead decided to approach me and follow me. He started crying less when he noticed that I could indeed see him and hear him.

I swear I tried my best to not notice him. God only knows how he saw through me. This is why I think I can't be a good actor.

For a few days, he kept following me even inside the class and to my home. I got so annoyed with that constant crying sound that I ended up screaming at him to shut up. I would've thrown stuff at him but figured that since he's a ghost, things would just phase through him.

And normally I would feel bad for shouting at an elder person but the old man's guilt trapped me into thinking I should be punished for disrespecting my elder, not to mention a dead elder.

Since then, he and I have been in a silent war. I ignore him and he tries to gain my attention.

Many times I have been scolded by a professor for throwing paper balls at them that was actually thrown by the dead janitor.

Heh, well, most of them.

Sorry, tangent. I guess the point was that, to be completely honest with you all, it's not like I don't believe her, okay? I had seen enough shit in my life to doubt the reality I lived in. Interacting with dead souls on a daily basis does that for you.

So with 17 years of experience in interacting with ghosts, combined with what happened yesterday, it was hard to dismiss her words.

So, yeah, it's not that I don't believe her, it's more along the lines of I didn't want to believe her.

"I have no idea who that is, nor do I care." Now if she could read my mind, she would have learnt about the weeping janitor. See? You guys are privileged to be given such an opportunity. Be thankful. "And that's not how it works."