Ghost Whispers |-/ Joshler

me·gil·lah

\mə-ˈgi-lə\
noun
a lengthy and tediously complicated situation; a long involved story or account

My edit (little teaser for an upcoming chapter)

Tyler and Anxi watched as the body was lowered from the flagpole.

With skin flayed from his bones and his eyes gouged out from their sockets, Dr. Ulka had been strung up the previous night.

One word, one simple word, had been dug into his pale chest by a blade. Sodomite.

It was hard to believe that Mortem had done that, but by the time the body had been towed away in multiple bags filled with slop and muscles, Tyler came to the conclusion that the angel couldn't've.

Sure, Tyler used Josh as a weapon of anger against him, but he would never do that. He had someone do it for him.

"Tyler," Anxi faced the brunette. "Did you do that?" Someone had to be her avenger, and it could only be him.

"What? There's no way I could've. But I'm glad he got what he deserved." He was going to put his arm over her shoulder, but now she didn't like to be touched. He had to respect that.

"Besides, someone else probably just got fed up with him. He made a lot of enemies."

Nurse Taylor ushered the patients away from the window, and Anxi and Tyler found seats at a new looking card table. They made quick work of it, both anxiously picking at the thin surface with their nails.

Where are you, Mortem? Tyler thought to himself. If you killed Ulka, shouldn't you at least pay one more visit? Tell me about Josh?

But he was an angel now. He could be summoned by prayer. Picking his hands up from where they were messing with the tabletop, he formed a steeple with them.

He closed his eyes and breathed in. Thinking thoughts of the angel himself and uttering a Hail Mary that he remembered from his choir boy days, he waited.

And he waited. When nothing happened, he clamped his eyes shut as tight as possible so hard that his arms shook.

"Praying isn't gonna do much in here." Someone said as they took a seat next to Tyler, scaring Anxi a little. Prying open his eyes, Tyler saw that Adrian had joined them.

"I wasn't praying." Tyler muttered, dropping his arms on the table.

"Looked like it to me. But that doesn't matter," Adrian adjusted his position in his chair, hands gesturing to Tyler. "What matters is that the bastard is gone. Everyone can breathe a little bit easier."

Ulka must have left a whole lot of horrible impressions. Everyone in the ward, even patients who weren't under his 'care' loathed him.

"And I know who did it." Adrian added.

Tyler choked on his spit, eyes going wide. "Y-you do?"

"Of course," Adrian stated matter-of-factly. "I'm not stupid, am I?"

Tyler returned to his normal state and shook his head no. He still looked at the man, who had developed deep rings under his eyes.

"It was the CIA." Adrian finally said, pointing at Tyler.

Relief washed over Tyler. He slumped his shoulders and laughed a little.

"Don't laugh," Adrian huffed. "I'm serious. Don't you ever wonder why he has a Russian last name but not an accent? He was on the run from the CIA."