Phantom Chained

Chapter 41. Witch Hunters. Elm

'Joergen Peter Lehtonen'

The invisible girl started to repeatedly yank my sleeve and I decided to humour her by squeezing her nervously fidgety fingers. Looks like she only just realised that we are in the middle of a pleasant family reunion. She's an idiot, what can I do. Meanwhile, the grandpa continued on, back in his upper layer.

"As I understand, the condition of our deal, treaty or service... forgive me if I offend you, sir Psychopomp, but I do not know how to proceed with this properly... Anyhow, I have to tell you how I ended up here, my story and tragedy, which could be a problem... for you see, I do not quite remember much these days and it is getting harder to discern memories from fantasies. I have lived through a lot and thought even more! Too long! Too much! Pain and time are deadly to memories! Pain muddles all intelligent function, my dear Psychopomp! But there is a way! My greatest tragedy is that I cannot remember the cause of my troubles, kind sir. To get those memories back, I would have to pass into the depths of my own temple, but I cannot achieve that alone. All of my attempts so far have been utterly fruitless, but now... With your help, sir Psychopomp, we will enter and comprehend, and we will pass!"

"We will pass?" I wondered.

"We will pass into the long-awaited and merciful eternity."

Using the opportune moment, my intuition began to unravel its ball of snakes, awakening with clamorous hissing, injecting an immense feeling of wrongness... the snakes pulled me away from the wraith, beyond the black soil and onto the snowy wasteland. "S-s-snow is-s-s better, fros-s-st is good, back there is-s dangerous-s-s, s-s-scary, very treacherous-s-s." I wholeheartedly agreed with the snakes, but what choice did I have?

The deadman continued on and on, slipping from a formal and pleading tone to his normal wheezing.

"I could show you, but I h-have to warn you that the procedure is not verh-hy pleasant... although this shhhaould not bother you, kind sihhr, as you ahhahre a professionahhgh..."

"Enough talking, then!" I cut. "Do something already! If you want to show me something then bloody do it, I don't have all of eternity to just sit here!"

"Hreghh... I love diligent onehhs. Give me your hheh hand... now let me juhheghst put thhee thhis coal in your hhhahnd... don't hraagh struggle, you were thheheh one that wanted it!"

The fucker shoved a scorching lump of coal into my hand! The pain rang through my entire body but the soul's dry hand kept my arm locked dead in place until the fire exploded into a rumbling curtain of darkness. As I looked into the shadows moving within it, I somehow ended up amongst them, pursued by the dead soul's raspy voice.

"Memories live here at large, honest and bare. Gaze upon them, sir Psychopomp, and receive the answers you so desperately seek."

The shadows swirled, condensed and changed the area, forming into a detailed phantom, while the pain in my hand quickly dulled to a slight itch as I found myself standing in a closed room... although I wasn't exactly there, the last months spent inside a human body automatically put the visual receptors at a certain height as if I was really standing on that earthen floor. I still held contact with the girl but that wasn't much of a concern at the moment; the mission was nearing its climax and I was sure I wouldn't need her anymore, regardless of the outcome.

The clarity of the deadman's memories turned out to be incredible; by some incomprehensible means, he managed to convey even the rancid stuffiness of the room and the suffocating feeling of the stone walls deep beneath the ground. I doubt I could ever explain how that feeling was expressed, but I could tell you that I had no doubt that I was experiencing it.