Lockwood And Co. The Queen's Spirit

Chapter 8

Now, as nice as Lockwood's plan was, I knew something was going to go wrong. It always does in our field. If the ghost of Morgana was haunting the place, I knew it wouldn't be good. Murder victims usually become thirsty for revenge and commonly manifest as type two ghosts such as Wraiths and Spectres. Sometimes even Poltergeists. Those are the worst kind. They don't have a physical manifestation but that just makes them even more dangerous as they react to feelings-- anger, envy, jealousy, are everything that this ghost needs to feed its energy. The more intensely one reacts, the more powerful it becomes. If this is what we were dealing with over here, I knew it was going to end badly.

"Luce, can you pass me some of the chocolate?" Lockwood asked, bringing me back from my thoughts.

"Oh yea. Here you go." I broke off two pieces and handed it to him. We were slowly ascending up the stairs with our rapiers out. I could feel the dark radiance of psychic energy flow through my veins. It made me shiver and made my legs feel heavy, as if every step was hard to take. Next to me, I could see Lockwood's brows scrunched up in concentration. Probably searching for death glows because his Talent is Sight. He can see the spot where someone died. I can too, but Sight's not really my thing. I'm a Listener.

"This is so strange. There's not a single death glow I can see but the psychic energy is overwhelming. I can feel it coming from everywhere. Can't you as well Luce?" he asked.

"Yes, Lockwood. I know what you mean. It's like...like it's everywhere but nowhere. You can't pinpoint its location. What if it's..." my voice trailed off. This kind of sensation is unique among ghosts, all except for one.

"No, it can't be that ghost, Luce. Even if it is, we have iron chains and magnesium flares. You know they can only sense people. So don't worry. We've got this." he said. Except with Lockwood and Co, when you think everything's under control, it never is.

"How about we ask our friend, the Ghost?" I asked. The ghost in the jar was sitting in my backpack, oblivious to the happenings around it. It hadn't given me a single useful insight since we stepped into this house so I locked it up. There's only so much swearing, sarcasm and unuseful remarks one can take.

"So, what can you tell us?" I asked the ghost, pulling it out of my bag. I saw a misty, green substance form in the jar, just above the grinning skull sitting in it.

"Oh, so now you're coming to me, eh? What happened to 'Shut up, stupid skull!'?" it chided.

I sighed. "Look I'm sorry okay? I don't have time for this. You better tell me or I'll lock you up for good." I threatened.

"Hmph. Sure you are. You know I'm too valuable for that. But I'll tell you anyway because I'm nice unlike that filthy Lockwood standing next to you. I don't see what you see in him anyway." it ranted. Could it possibly get more infuriating?

"Skull..." I warned.

"Okay, okay. Keep your pants on. I'll tell you. The spirit in this house is quite powerful. I can't really pinpoint its location either. It feels like it's everywhere. But perhaps you already suspect what sort of ghost it is? I can't say for sure, but I think you're suspicions are right. There is only so much I can tell you from in here. If you let me out on the other hand...but I know you won't. You don't trust me enough. I can tell you one thing for sure though, the attic is where it's concentrated and that is most likely where you'll find the source." it whispered in my head.

"Thank you. You've been most insightful." I said. Lockwood was staring at me with a confused expression on his face. Right. I was the only one who could hear the skull. It's a Type 3 ghost and not many people can communicate with them. Only Marissa Fittes, founder of the biggest agency in London had ever done that. And now me.

I repeated everything the ghost said to Lockwood. "So it confirmed our suspicions?" he asked.

"It didn't confirm them but it's pretty sure." I replied. By this time, we had arrived in front of eight identical doors that stretched across a long passage. There were no windows which gave it an eerily trapped feeling. A red carpet rolled out across the floor while paintings littered the hallway. There was one painting of a ship that particularly caught my eye. It looked soothing, but dangerous at the same time. The ship was a harbor of peace in the midst of a raging storm.

"Ahem, Lucy? You can pick which door you want first." Lockwood said, shaking me from this painting. I didn't realize I was staring at it.

"Okay. How about that one?" I asked pointing at the third door from the left. It was the door closest to the painting. Something told me it was the right door.

"Okay. That door it is. You can open it since I did the last one in Brookshire's." he said going behind me.

"Fine." I said. One thing that we agents learn is to never hesitate over thresholds. That makes you afraid and those feelings are exactly what ghosts feed on. I grabbed the wooden handle and gave it a firm squeeze. It gave way quite fast and suddenly, a looming figure hovered over me. 

**Author's Note**

 Thanks for reading! Plz vote and comment.

--Blue