ã€ŠRight Hand of Godã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Ghost Trick

    Chapter 1 - Ghost Trick

    The mansion on the edge of Normal, Ohio, was huge and intimidating. Boarded up windows glared upon the yellowed, tangled lawn, whose grass was tall and unkempt. Decaying flowers wilted in cracked flower boxes that slept eternally on rotting oak railings. The roof sloped up sharply in an ¡°m¡± shape and sighed like a mourner in the cool nighttime breeze, with dormers poking out on the east and west sides. Its tiles were cracked and caving in, weathered away from two centuries of life. Now it was dying with each new rainstorm, each gust of wind rattling the skeleton of its ancient framework and columns.

    Standing on the dirt path just before the withering mansion¡¯s main entrance, Jacob Davidson turned around to check out the view. His dark eyes stared out over the hill on which the house had been built, past the dirt path and his old, forest green Ford parked upon it. He could see the entire town of Normal from here, its twinkling lights beating back the encroaching night. It¡¯s beautiful, he thought with a small smile. With the Red and Beaver Rivers hugging the town from either side, their black waters brilliantly reflecting yellow dapples of electricity, it was truly picturesque.

    Jacob sighed and turned back to the unwelcoming, melancholy mansion. Compared to the beautiful Normal cityscape of twinkling lights, flowing water, and life, the house looked even angrier at the presence of the boy with chocolate skin; he was the only living thing on the whole hill crest.

    He briefly considered whether he¡¯d been spending too much time reading dramatic horror novels. He decided that he probably was.

    ¡°I hate this job sometimes,¡± Jacob muttered as he sighed and walked up the grey stone steps that rose up to the mansion doors. He paused before the tall double doors and patted his back pocket. The hard bulge of his dagger was there, which was good. He didn¡¯t fancy the idea of entering a poltergeist¡¯s lair without a weapon.

    He was crazy, after all, not suicidal.

    Thus reassured, Jacob reached for the gilded, rusting door handle of the left door and twisted. He met no resistance, which was both good and bad. It was good because it meant that he wouldn¡¯t have to lock pick. It was bad because after the last deaths here, the police had supposed to have firmly locked them. The fact that these doors were unlocked meant one of two things: either someone else had already made it here before him, or something wanted him to enter.

    He hoped it wasn¡¯t the latter. He hated that clich¨¦ in movies and books.

    Cautiously, the teen eased the door open. He winced at its loud groans.

    Jacob stepped silently into the mansion and shut the door part-way behind him. It was even darker inside than it was outside, the only light being the small amounts of moonlight which managed to crawl and squirm between the planks nailed over the windows. The seventeen-year-old blinked rapidly. When his eyes had at last adjusted to the lack of light, he slowly moved forward.

    He was in a large, rectangular room with partially collapsed staircases curving up either wall. The stale air, chilly and dry, sprang up goosebumps across his arms. He looked to his left and right; the room opened to two long hallways that ran directly along the house¡¯s front wall. There was also a set of double doors on the far end of the room, and another above those, where the staircases met at a walkway. If he remembered correctly, there was also supposed to be two rooms adjacent to this one, whose doors opened out to the halls.

    Everything was silent.

    ¡°Creepy place,¡± Jacob observed, continuing forward. He recalled from Normal Public Library¡¯s blueprints of the old mansion that the parlor lay directly through the doors below the staircase. Newspapers from the early 1800¡¯s had claimed that the McArthurs, the late owners of this mansion, had been murdered in the parlor, although their bodies remained undiscovered even now, centuries later.

    He crept along the room, across its red velvet carpet, which frayed and had become choked with dust. Upon reaching the doors to the parlor, he paused and slipped his dagger from his pocket. Moonlight caught the steel blade and made the dagger appear to have been forged from silver.

    As silently as he could, Jacob turned the parlor doorknob and eased it open. He held his breath and gradually drew into the room beyond. Ghosts didn¡¯t scare him anymore, not after seven years of busting them, but disturbing the thing here before he had a solid, physical layout of the room was just asking for another broken arm and leg. And he didn¡¯t want to have to give his dad the story of tripping down the stairs while getting a midnight snack again. With this thought in mind, Jacob squinted through the darkness to examine the parlor.

    It was big, but not as large vertically or horizontally as the entrance room had been. A long dining table sat in the center of the room with six chairs pulled up to either side of its length, as well as two more chairs at either head. All of this sat over a Persian rug, elegantly designed with gold trimming. A low-hanging chandelier dangled over the center of the table. The rest of the room consisted of couches that had once been white but had since turned somewhat yellow; a fireplace, brick and with a protective iron gate separating its hearth and pit; and wooden floorboards.

    Nothing moved. It was still only a few degrees under room temperature.

    Breathing shallowly, Jacob shuffled forth with quiet steps.

    If he were a dead body, where would he be hiding? It was, of course, entirely possible that the McArthurs¡¯ killer had dragged their bodies elsewhere in the mansion or its grounds, or had even dumped them in either the Red River or the Beaver River. Jacob doubted this, however, despite the police¡¯s conclusion that the latter was the most likely. Last week, a group of kids had been stupid enough to party in this historically haunted house, and the only one of them who had escaped claimed that her buddies had entered the parlor last she¡¯d seen. She¡¯d been about to follow them in, several moments after their entry to it, but had heard a horrible din of breaking objects and screaming from inside it. She¡¯d then ran as far away from the mansion as she could, and upon a police sweep of the area, no bodies or even signs of a struggle had been found.

    Jacob knew from experience that ghosts usually could not leave a certain, limited radius from the spot where they died. This radius did tend to vary from ghost to ghost though.

    He rubbed his chin in thought. He remembered that his ninth-grade history teacher had once said that the McArthurs¡¯ mansion had at one time been a major stop on the Underground Railroad. Perhaps, then¡­ perhaps there was a secret room around here!

    Jacob knelt down on the floor and knocked against it with his left (free) hand. It was solid; since this massive home had no basement, it should be all foundation from this floor to the ground. Not one to give up so easily, though, Jacob moved to a different, nearby spot, and knocked there, too. Nothing.

    He spent the next ten minutes on this task, so focused that he didn¡¯t notice how the air temperature inched down one degree at a time. Not until he could already see his breath.

    Nearly twenty feet from the parlor doors now, his ear pressed to the floor, Jacob happened to exhale, and he stared when he realized he could see the steam from his breath. He scrambled to his feet quickly. He reaffirmed his grip on his steel dagger.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Jacob cursed.

    The word turned into mist that hung in the air for about a second before dissipating. Brown orbs flickered back and forth, scanning the room for abnormalities. His goosebumps grew in number. Nothing was out of the ordinary, however; except for the fact that it seemed the parlor was much darker than when he¡¯d entered it.

    He scooted closer to the table, towards the center of the room. He wanted to have as much space to fight whatever was coming as he could.

    The floor started shaking and the floorboards clattered loudly. Jacob, eyes wide, nearly tripped and cursed again. One of the white couches pressed against the walls slid forward and lifted off the ground. It flung itself at Jacob from behind him, and a sudden warning chill ran down the self-taught ghost buster¡¯s back. He looked over his shoulder just in time to react to the sight of the flying couch, and hit the ground. The unusual ammunition sailed harmlessly over him. It smashed into the wall with enough force to crack the rotting wood.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Jacob intoned, picking himself off the floor.

    The chairs at the table began to creep away from it, and the teen leaped away from them. He swallowed hard. As he¡¯d thought, this ghost was definitely a poltergeist. He¡¯d dealt with several of them in the past, but from the force and velocity of that flying couch, none of them had been as strong as this entity was.

    One chair jumped into the air and threw itself at him kamikaze style. He quickly moved out of the way, and it hit the eastern wall, where it exploded into planks and splinters. Kamikaze indeed. Jacob wondered if the chair had been made in Japan instead of the usual China.

    ¡°McArthur!¡± he shouted, dodging another flying chair. ¡°Stop hiding! I¡¯m here to help you find peace!¡±

    The floor rattled more roughly now, and Jacob stumbled. He found himself glad for the fact that he didn¡¯t suffer from motion sickness, because if he¡¯d had it, his dinner would¡¯ve been added to the list of potential projectiles that the poltergeist could use.

    ¡°PEACE!?¡±

    The word boomed around the trembling parlor, so loud that Jacob¡¯s ears hurt. It was full of bass and deep as a ravine, enriched with anger. The temperature dropped again, and the teen shivered. Then, before his very eyes, a shining figure, blue and translucent, rose like a column of warm air through the Persian rug and the table.

    Jacob narrowed his eyes. It looked just like the picture he¡¯d seen of the McArthur family patriarch. Over six feet tall and sporting an impressive beer belly, the ghost of George McArthur was a moose. His once-handsome face now had a gaping hole in its mangled hair, reflecting its death blow. The living teen swallowed back a gag; whatever had done that to him had incredible strength. The ghost wore a cotton Army coat over a plain V-neck shirt, a pair of dress pants and shoes, and a belt.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t had the peace I deserve for nearly TWO CENTURIES!¡± McArthur¡¯s ghost roared, and Jacob thought he heard the hint of a sob in those words. ¡°My killer has made sure of that!¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Jacob¡¯s fists clenched. ¡°Your killer is dead!¡± he shouted, and was forced to roll under another suicidal chair. Upon returning to his feet, he glared sternly at the poltergeist, who was so surprised that the room momentarily stopped hiccupping hundreds of times a minute. ¡°Give it up already!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit that I¡¯m surprised you are able to see me even though I¡¯m supposed to be in my invisible form still,¡± McArthur¡¯s ghost grunted. ¡°That¡¯s a very rare trait to have.¡± The room rumbled like an earthquake again, even harder than the previous shaking. ¡°But there¡¯s still no way you can help me, boy! Because the thing that killed my family is not dead, and neither it was any mere human murderer! It was a demon!¡±

    Jacob¡¯s eyes widened, and the shock that burned through him was great enough to make him lose his already weakening balance. Had that poltergeist just said demon? As in the literal, evil, denizen of Hell demon?

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible!¡± Jacob shouted, throwing himself out of the path of another deadly chair. The piece of furniture showered him with its splinters upon breaking. ¡°Demons don¡¯t exist!¡± He knelt up on one knee, then lifted himself the rest of the way. ¡°Hell doesn¡¯t exist! And neither does Heaven!¡±

    He couldn¡¯t believe that something like Hell could actually be real. Because if Hell was real, that meant Heaven was too, and in correlation, God. And if God was real¡­ then why on Earth was He letting all of these poor spirits stay trapped on Earth, and letting all the terrible things in the world happen?

    He just couldn¡¯t reconcile it in his head.

    ¡°Both do exist!¡± the ghost insisted. ¡°And if you don¡¯t leave now, you¡¯re going to find that out the hard way, just like that group of teens who came the other week. He¡¯s still here, in this mansion, and he¡¯ll come for you any moment! I¡¯m frankly surprised he hasn¡¯t come already¡­ something must be holding him up.¡±

    ¡®He¡¯ is still here? Find it out just like the teens from the other week? Jacob blinked and narrowly ducked under a second couch, which slammed into the parlor¡¯s doors and blew them off their hinges. The room stopped shaking, and the dark-skinned ghost buster stumbled from the unexpectedness of it.

    ¡°GO!¡±

    Jacob¡¯s eyes fell upon the ghost and he stared.

    Tears streamed from its glowing, blue eyes. Quite suddenly, the teen realized something. George McArthur hadn¡¯t ever killed anyone, alive or as a ghost. He¡¯d been trying to protect everyone who¡¯d ever come ghost-sighting here in this mansion. From what, Jacob didn¡¯t exactly know; he still didn¡¯t believe the claim that Heaven and Hell, and therefore angels and demons, were real, so he doubted the thing tying McArthur¡¯s ghost here was a demon. But something terrified the ghost. In all his seven years of busting, he¡¯d never seen a vengeful spirit cry before.

    A wave of compassion swept over him.

    ¡°That¡­ that thing you mentioned,¡± Jacob said slowly, gaining more confidence in his budding idea. ¡°It¡¯s holding you here against your will, isn¡¯t it? Keep you from¡­ passing on.¡±

    McArthur¡¯s ghost hesitated. ¡°However true that may be, what are you waiting for? Run while you still can!¡±

    The seventeen-year-old paused, took a deep breath, held out his right arm and hand¡ªhis dagger hand¡ªand concentrated. First confusion, then recognition, and finally awe passed over the poltergeist¡¯s features as both arm and dagger glowed with an unnatural, but beautiful purple light. The light pulsed with life and warmth, and the air around it felt warmer. The mansion suddenly didn¡¯t seem as dead and decomposing as it had before.

    ¡°That light¡­¡± the poltergeist gasped under its breath. ¡°The Right Hand of God¡­ I never thought I¡¯d see that power in my afterlife¡­¡±

    Jacob raised an eyebrow. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you said just now, but anyway, if you can¡¯t pass on willfully¡­ what if I were to force you to?¡±

    The ghost stared reverently. ¡°That¡­ just might work. You¡¯re one hell of a rarity, kid. You might even be able to kill that demon.¡±

    ¡°Y-Yeah, well,¡± Jacob stammered, unused to such praise, ¡°I don¡¯t even like My Little Pony.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± The shimmering, floating McArthur¡¯s brow furrowed.

    The teen facepalmed. Right, not the time for jokes and references. ¡°Whatever, let¡¯s just get this over with.¡±

    The poltergeist smiled and held its arms straight out, perpendicular with the rest of its body. It lowered itself to the ground directly in front of Jacob. Its coat fluttered back in some invisible, otherworldly breeze.

    ¡°This¡¯ll hurt a bit,¡± the high school junior warned.

    McArthur¡¯s trapped soul nodded. ¡°Do it. The pain of being dead for over a century alongside your family, but being unable to spend your afterlife with them, hurts more than anything you could ever do to me.¡±

    The teen pointed his dagger at the poltergeist¡¯s chest¡ªright where its heart would be if it were alive¡ªand hesitated. It was far easier exorcising a ghost when it was the bad guy, when it had killed people, and he could consider it a monster. McArthur was far from a monster; he was just a sad, trapped soul, doomed to wander the Earth. His hands trembled. He swallowed dryly.

    ¡°Are you sure about this?¡±

    McArthur stared at him with wide, pleading eyes. ¡°Yes! Do it¡ªdo it now! Before that demon catches onto what¡¯s happening here!¡±

    Jacob¡¯s gaze hardened, and he nodded resolutely.

    ¡°Fine. Here goes.¡±

    His right arm and his dagger thrumming with supernatural energy, shedding that brilliant royal purple glow, Jacob stabbed the poltergeist right in its chest. Light exploded from the ghost¡¯s bod, pure and white, as an agonized howl filled the room. With each passing second, the light grew brighter and brighter, until Jacob was forced to turn away from it. When it finally faded away, and the parlor was swathed in shadow once more, he looked back.

    McArthur¡¯s soul was still there, bent over his steel blade. But it was no longer composed of the periwinkle of ghosts; rather, it was a divine white, transparent and fading from sight. A single tear dropped from its eye, and it wore the most serene smile Jacob had ever seen in his life.

    ¡°Thank¡­ you¡­¡± the purified spirit of George McArthur said, the words filled with kindness and undertones of bass.

    Then he disappeared from the Earth, for good, and Jacob let his hand fall stiffly to his side.

    He¡¯d never been thanked for his work before. It felt¡­ nice. Jacob gazed solemnly at his dagger, which dripped with black ectoplasm. Ghost blood. He wiped it on the fraying Persian rug.

    There was still work to be done here. Even if McArthur¡¯s ghost hadn¡¯t told him about the other¡­ supernatural (not demonic!) entity living here, Jacob would¡¯ve known now. Despite the poltergeist having passed on at last, he still felt evil lurking nearby. It was inexplicable; it had never happened before. But the stale air was thick with the feeling of danger.

    Keeping himself on high alert, he slowly left the parlor, whose doors were still off their hinges. Jacob poked around their wreckage, as well as the yellow-tinged, white couch that had broke said doors.

    Now that the poltergeist was gone, the house was silent.

    The teen, his arm and knife no longer glowing purple, winced as a particularly loose board he stepped on groaned. He froze, glancing around carefully for signs of movement, and relaxed. He continued forward much more carefully, an elephant walking on the frozen lake surface.

    A metallic ringing resounded throughout the mansion.

    Jacob froze again. He strained his ears. Silence followed for several moments, before the ringing surfaced again. It seemed to be coming from his right, and was loud enough to be either in the conjoining room or the floor directly above it.

    A terrible din of wood crunching and crumbling and raining down on a floor reached Jacob¡¯s ears. He jumped a mile and swiveled to his right. That had definitely come from the room next door this time. The high schooler¡¯s breathing slowed, his dark skin nearly matching the light level of the entrance hall. The metallic ringing, like a crowbar slamming against a lamppost, was back again, the interval between each reverb much smaller. His ears hurt from the commotion.

    For a split second, the massive building was silent again.

    And then the wall exploded inwards from Jacob¡¯s perspective, shattered bits and pieces of oak raining on the floor beneath the collapsing staircase. A dark object, thin and tall, flung through the wreckage. He had just a split second to see that it was a person with a bald, white head, and a top hat and black fur coat, before said person collided painfully with him.

    Jacob and the unidentified flying albino tumbled back, cursing and flailing. They rolled dizzily across wood and carpet. Finally, in a mess of tangled limbs like earbuds in a pocket, they crashed into the left wall, and their momentum was abruptly (and painfully) cut off.

    ¡°Fuck, that guy hits hard,¡± a smooth, cool voice grumbled. ¡°Does he not know the meaning of hold back?¡± The man atop Jacob paused. ¡°And actually, isn¡¯t this landing much softer than it should¡¯ve been?¡±

    ¡°Get,¡± Jacob growled, unable to see thanks to the newcomer¡¯s fur coat blocking his vision, ¡°the fuck¡­ OFF ME!¡±

    The next few seconds were an annoying fiasco in which Jacob and the man lying on him attempted to untangle themselves. When they had finally managed this, they quickly got to their feet, grumbling and muttering.

    ¡°How many times have I hit the floor now tonight?¡± Jacob mumbled furiously. He rubbed his elbow tenderly; that particular fall had scraped some spots of skin off his elbow, which throbbed red and bled slightly. ¡°This better not become a damn habit.¡±

    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± the man who¡¯d been flung through the wall said, sounding sincerely apologetic. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect there to be anyone still alive in this mansion tonight.¡±

    Jacob looked up from his throbbing elbow, ready to accept the apology, and stopped cold. His jaw nearly hit the floor.

    Standing in front of him was not a tall, bald, albino person, as he¡¯d first assumed. The top hat and long fur coat that sat on the newcomer¡¯s body were real enough. And the slick, baggy dress pants which hung around the¡­ thing¡¯s legs looked just as solid as the black Calvin Kleins which concealed his feet. There was no blue glow, suggestive of a ghost, around him. But the face underneath the top hat, as well as the form beneath the unbuttoned coat, showed the newcomer¡¯s true appearance.

    ¡°A¡­ a skeleton,¡± Jacob gasped, his voice hoarse and disbelieving. ¡°You¡¯re a moving skeleton¡­ in clothes like a private detective in an old black-and-white mystery movie.¡±

    The skeleton blinked. How it was possible for the skeleton to blink, Jacob didn¡¯t know, and was frankly too stupefied to ask.

    ¡°You can see me?¡± it said, eye¡­ sockets wide. ¡°I don¡¯t look like a normal, but admittedly very handsome, man to you?¡±

    ¡°Of course not!¡± Jacob barked. A sudden burst of rage flowed through him, and he grabbed the walking, talking skeleton by its collar. He then shoved it against the wall. He was surprised at how little effort it took to do so; but then again, skeletons didn¡¯t have nearly the weight of a normal person thanks to being all bones. The teen lifted up his dagger¡ªwhich he¡¯d remarkably managed to keep a grip on while tumbling across the floor¡ªand held the sharp steel to where the skeleton¡¯s neck should¡¯ve been.

    His arm and dagger glowed purple. The skeleton¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°The Right Hand of God,¡± it gasped, awed much like the late ghost of George McArthur. Its skull turned up from Jacob¡¯s empowered arm to his face, and empty sockets connected with dark orbs. ¡°I see now. Who are you?¡±

    ¡°The name¡¯s Jacob Davidson,¡± Jacob snarled, and he pressed his dagger closer to the skeleton¡¯s throat. ¡°But I¡¯m the one asking questions here. Who are you, and why the hell have you been keeping poor George McArthur¡¯s spirit from being able to pass on!?¡±

    ¡°Agent Skul Mann, FBI,¡± the skeleton introduced itself automatically, as if it had said this a thousand times before. It then reached into its pocket, and Jacob tensed for a moment before it withdrew a leather wallet. It let the wallet fall open, and sure enough, there was an FBI badge with the picture of Jacob¡¯s captive on it. He squinted through the darkness of the mansion. It looked legit enough, but Jacob still had severe doubts.

    ¡°What¡¯s a skeleton doing in the FBI?¡± he wondered skeptically.

    ¡°I¡¯m one of their best guys in the Supernatural Relations department,¡± Agent Mann said easily. ¡°And, by the way, I¡¯m a revenant. Not a skeleton; there¡¯s a major difference. I came to this mansion on a report of demonic activity.¡±

    Jacob was silent, thinking. The poltergeist had seemed to be talking about some other person also entering the mansion that night, and the doors were unlocked when they shouldn¡¯t have been. Still, though¡­

    ¡°Give me one reason why I should believe you.¡±

    The ironically named Agent Mann opened his mouth to reply, but he didn¡¯t get the chance. Something heavy shook the floor, and behind Jacob, the wall through which the supposed FBI operative had fallen crumbled. An arctic wave of darkness rolled into the mansion¡¯s entrance hall, full of danger and evil. The stench of sulfur permeated the air.

    ¡°Jacob Davidson,¡± the revenant said in a low and serious voice that offered no question, looking at something above and beyond Jacob¡¯s head, ¡°if you wish to live to see the morning light, let. Me. Go.¡±

    ¡°You,¡± an angry voice boomed, shaking Jacob¡¯s soul to its very core. ¡°You lost me my toy, human. You know not the forces you mess with. You know not the powers that prey in the night. You know not the might of Hell¡¯s finest soldiers. But you will.¡±

    Then, as Jacob turned his head to see what new terror had been unleashed in the dying mansion, another wave of darkness swept over them. It snuffed out all the light in the room. It was so cold that even Jacob¡¯s bones shivered.

    And that was the end of the world as Jacob knew it.

 Chapter 2 - The Revenant

    <u>Chapter Two: The Revenant</u>

    Jacob flinched at the feeling of an unnatural, evil cold, and his grip on Agent Mann¡¯s collar weakened unintentionally.

    It was this accidental action that saved Jacob¡¯s life.

    The revenant wriggled free, disappeared, and reappeared behind the high schooler with a silver sword, three feet long and sporting a red leather grip. It gleamed as though enchanted, shedding light into the hellish darkness. Jacob¡¯s eyes glared in the unexpected brightness, and he was forced to blink spots away from his pupils. When his vision was normal again, he was at last able to see the source of all this new strangeness.

    A massive monster, humanoid in stature but decidedly inhuman, towered over Jacob Davidson and Agent Skul Mann.

    Wings sharp as sawblades, batlike and leathery, flapped on the monster¡¯s back, keeping it hovering in air. Its body was the color of blood circulating in one¡¯s body, not the darkened, reddish-black of dried blood scabbing on a wound. Small and beady, its eyes were blacker than the deepest depths of space. (Jacob¡¯s mother had often joked that if something was darker in color than even his skin, it was definitely evil and not to be trusted.) Most disturbingly of all, however, were the shiny scales that covered much of its body, and the long tongue, thin and snakelike, which flicked out of its mouth.

    In a fluid motion that was so fast, Jacob was rendered entirely unable to see it, the demon swept its arms down at Agent Mann, who swung up with his sword just as quickly. Both supernatural creatures¡¯ attacks connected and suddenly stopped, and Jacob finally saw what had been going on.

    The demon carried a trident red as its own skin, at least two yards long, and had attempted to slam down an overhead strike at Jacob. The revenant had blocked, however, the trident¡¯s middle prong quivering mere centers away from Agent Mann¡¯s top hat. Red metal trembled against glowing silver, both combatants tense and refusing to give. They glared at each other as though daring the other to make the first move.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on!?¡± Jacob demanded, his voice breaking. Even though he was no longer afraid of ghosts, this level of craziness was entirely out of his league of comprehension. He¡¯d spotted the occasional vampire, and had even killed a pack of what had appeared to be Stymphalian birds from Greek mythology, but not even that could have possibly prepared him for this. ¡°What the hell is that thing!?¡±

    ¡°That, my dear son,¡± said the revenant suavely (Jacob noticed for the first time that it had an English accent, ¡°is a demon. Straight from Hell itself. It¡¯s unusual for one to be as powerful as our little playmate, though, not while using its true form on Earth. It must be feeding off of some supernatural energy; a Mystery Spot, perhaps, or some kind of holy weapon imbued with the power of a human soul. Souls would potentially be able to charge a demon¡¯s true form.¡±

    ¡°A soul¡­?¡± Jacob frowned. He still did not believe he was actually looking at a demon¡ªa real, honest-to-God (honest-to-Satan?)¡ªdemon, but an idea was gnawing at the side of his brain. Or maybe that was just the insanity of it all. ¡°There was a ghost here, a strong poltergeist. It said that a demon had killed it and was keeping it from passing on. I exorcised it, though. Er¡­ the ghost, I mean.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m right here!¡± the demon exploded, and the revenant glanced up at it as though seeing it for the first time.

    ¡°Eh? You are? Well, would you look at that, you are! I¡¯m sorry. Were you getting lonely? Because if you want, I¡¯ll happily play with you. Honestly, really, I¡¯m going to play with you whether you want me to or not¡­ you might not like the game, though. It involves me juggling you around and you dying.¡±

    That didn¡¯t seem to amuse the demon. ¡°What are you, a skeleton, or a clown?¡±

    ¡°A skeleton of a clown, if you must know,¡± Agent Mann said brightly, ¡°although that doesn¡¯t quite sum it up very well.¡± Slowly, the strength of his bony hand was beginning to win against the demon¡¯s power, and the silver sword pushed the trident up by just a hair. ¡°I! Am! A! Revenant!¡±

    With a triumphant roar, Agent Mann threw all his light weight into his arm and pushed. The demon¡¯s red trident fell away harmlessly to the side, and Agent Mann¡¯s free finger bones grasped Jacob¡¯s arm.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting you out of the way of the crossfire from this fight,¡± Mann whispered quickly in the still-living teen¡¯s ear. ¡°Watch carefully, and when you can see our movements slow down enough for you to react to them, go in for the kill. This holy sword I have can kill the bastard, but not for good; if I land the finishing blow, we¡¯ll be lucky if it takes two centuries for this guy to return.¡±

    ¡°DAMN YOU!¡± the demon shouted, and awkwardly regained its balance. ¡°DAMN YOU TO HELL!¡±

    ¡°Sorry, hellspawn,¡± Agent Mann replied, regarding it with an unimpressed gaze, ¡°but only God and His angels have that power.¡±

    ¡°GRARGH!¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re just making it madder,¡± Jacob pointed out, shivering as the demon blew into the air and another burst of demon-darkness was released into the air.

    The revenant grinned at him. ¡°Good! Then it¡¯ll only make more mistakes!¡± He disappeared, and Jacob with him. When they reappeared, they were in the room which Mann had been thrown out of. Jacob noticed that it looked like it had once been a storage room, but all the cabinets and wardrobes were smashed, and there was a fresh-looking hole in the north-east corner of the ceiling.

    Taken aback by the sudden teleportation, Jacob stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance. ¡°Whoa!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°How did you do that?¡±

    Agent Mann grinned a toothy grin. His left eye socket flashed a deep blue. ¡°Perks of being a revenant,¡± he said, and somehow managed to wink despite having no eyelids. ¡°We¡¯re naturally faster than almost every other creature, but with some training and our increased healing factor, the strongest of us can amp it up to the point where it almost seems like we¡¯re teleporting. Hell, some revenants like me are even able to use our soul power to actually teleport.¡±

    ¡°¡­Hot damn,¡± Jacob said eloquently.

    ¡°Sums it up about right.¡±

    Agent Mann then flashed away from Jacob as the demon growled and turned to them. There was a ruffle of fur coat, and then the walking skeleton was right behind the demon. The silver sword already sliced through the air. The red-skinned monster stiffened and swiveled around faster than Jacob¡¯s human eye could see. Its trident flung up to meet Agent Mann¡¯s holy silver sword, but the revenant was gone again. Instead of being in front of it now, Mann was already behind the demon, his sword¡¯s motion just as fast as it had been before teleporting.

    Silver bit into a fleshy part of the demon¡¯s hip, and black ectoplasm spilled from the wound like a gruesome fountain.

    ¡°Stay still, you damn insect!¡± the demon snarled, pain twinging in its voice.

    ¡°Hmmmm, let me think about that¡­¡± Mann pulled his sword out of the demon¡¯s side, jumped up, and swung upwards. He then teleported to safety as the demon turned to try and attack him again. None of this was Jacob able to see, except for very brief flashes and blurs; not until a red trident pierced thin air, and Mann reappeared behind the demon again. His sword lodged itself underneath a scale, only for the skeleton to thrust upward and yank the scale clean off.

    The demon howled in pain. Mann shrugged. ¡°How about no?¡± the FBI operative suggested.

    ¡°I will ensure you are locked in the deepest pit Hell can offer!¡± the demon promised. It slammed its elbow backwards, no doubt hoping to catch the agent midair, but to no avail.

    Agent Mann teleported above and in front of the demon. He flipped once, twice, and used the extra velocity to land a deadly blow on the unprotected crown of his opponent¡¯s head. Unfortunately, the hellspawn seemed to have predicted this, and blocked with the rod part of his long trident. For a few seconds, as Mann fell to the ground, they appeared to be entering another lock. But then Mann disappeared again, and reappeared as he hit the floor next to the demon¡¯s foot. There, he stabbed his holy sword ruthlessly into the blood red foot.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you take a walk?¡± Agent Mann taunted. That earned him another roar of rage and attempt at skewering. ¡°Walking relieves a lot of stress, and, forgive me if I¡¯m wrong, but you seem to be really stressed for some reason.¡±

    ¡°FUCK YOU!¡± The demon¡¯s voice was so loud and angry, the mansion¡¯s nearby windows shattered like bones in a car crusher. Jacob clapped his hands over his ears for protection, but it still felt like he stood right next to an exploding firework. ¡°I WILL USE YOUR ROTTING INNARDS FROM YOUR GRAVE AS YOUR CHAINS IN HELL! YOU WILL BATHE IN YOUR OWN BOILING HOT PISS AND TEARS FOR EONS AT A TIME! I WILL FEED YOU TO THE CROWS!¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Mann gasped, hurt. ¡°You take that back! I taste terrible, and besides, some of my best friends are crows! They¡¯d never eat me!¡±

    Jacob gaped. ¡°I hope you¡¯re not literally friends with crows,¡± he deadpanned.

    The fur-coated skeleton turned to shrug at him. ¡°I¡¯ve been to some pretty low places,¡± he said flatly, and the teen wilted. Life was never going to be the same again, wasn¡¯t it?

    Agent Mann teleported away again, and the fight started up even more intensely. Despite this, however, Jacob noticed that the demon grew slower and slower each second. Its reaction time to Mann¡¯s attacks decreased ever so gradually. Most of the battle was still too fast for him to see, but he was observing more and more glimpses of it, and less and less blurs of color.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t working,¡± the demon rumbled at last, and with a nasty grin like a predator finding its prey, it turned to Jacob. ¡°Since I can¡¯t catch you, skeleton, I¡¯ll just have to make you go where I want you to!¡±

    Its wings flapped, it pointed its body horizontally at Jacob, and then it blasted at him as though shot from a canon. The rushing air coming off its wings as it flew sounded strangely like a swan singing. It soared at him with remarkable speed for such a huge creature, but all of it, Jacob could see; their plan was working and the demon was weakening!

    But he was also about to die.

    Jacob, really not liking that idea, yelped and leaped back.

    Fire-red fingers curled into a fist that punched through the air like a cannonball. The scales on its fingers gleamed in the demon-darkness.

    ¡°OI! STRAWBERRY-LOOKING BASTARD! YOU BATHE IN TOO MUCH KETCHUP, AND YOUR FIGHT IS WITH ME!¡±

    Jacob had time to think, That was a strange insult¡­ before silver flashed through the demon-darkness, cutting back against Jacob¡¯s imposing death. With a squeak of dress shoes sliding against a mildewed floor, Agent Mann blinked into vision, blocking the demon¡¯s attempted punch with the flat of his blade.

    The evil monster¡¯s sick grin grew even wider and more twisted.

    ¡°Gooooood.¡±

    Then it twirled its other hand, wielding the trident clutched within like a baton, and stabbed forward. Agent Mann¡¯s eyes widened in horror. He couldn¡¯t release the lock of his holy sword against the demon¡¯s fist scales, because then Jacob, who was frozen in fear and in the path of the punch, would die. He couldn¡¯t dodge the spear because the demon was still too quick for him to physically do so without teleporting, and again putting Jacob in danger.

    This was it. He was done.

    He closed his eyes and smiled. A single regretful tear fell from his eye socket.

    ¡°DAMMIT, NO ONE¡¯S DYING ON MY WATCH!¡± Jacob bellowed, and suddenly, there he was, dashing forward and flinging himself in the trident¡¯s path. He had no plan, no surefire way to both save this clearly innocent skeleton as well as survive. He hadn¡¯t even meant to use himself as a human shield, really. His feet and mouth had just moved on their own accord, his white Vans pounding on the floor.

    Agent Mann stared in horror as the black teen hung in space between him and the demon¡¯s trident. ¡°NO!¡± he shouted desperately. He reached out, terrified. Not again! I can¡¯t afford to let anyone else die to a demon on my watch! If I can just touch him¡­!

    Red metal, forged in the very flames of Hell, pierced black skin like tongues of fire licking up at a cross on a funeral pyre. An agonized scream rose into the air, strangled and dying like the very mansion itself.

    The ancient house of the late George McArthur claimed another victim.

    The demon stared in mild surprise at the limp body of Jacob Davidson hanging on the arrow-like spokes of his oversized weapon. He raised his black eyebrow and snorted. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say I planned that, but that just makes things easier on me.¡± He regarded Mann with a terrible grin. ¡°Now I only have to focus on killing you, and I can use this kid¡¯s soul to regain my former strength. Then I¡¯ll enjoy torturing both of you for an eternity!¡±

    Rage, simple and unbridled, swept through every bone and joint of Agent Mann¡¯s skeleton. His right eye glowed a furious blue.

    ¡°YOU BASTARD!¡± he roared, and immediately flashed away, letting the demon punch through empty space. But even as he reappeared behind his hellish opponent, a wispy white, gaslike substance lifted out of Jacob¡¯s corpse. It tried to rise up to the rotting rafters, but a wave of fresh darkness blew out from the demon¡¯s mouth. The demon-darkness mixed with the spirit of Jacob Davidson and turned it from its pure white to the same shade of periwinkle as George McArthur¡¯s ghost had been. It stopped rising up.

    Then, having no other use for Jacob¡¯s empty corpse, the demon shrugged and simply swept his trident roughly to the side. The corpse dislodged from the prongs and tumbled back into the entrance hall.

    All of this happened in a split second.

    Agent Mann watched, horrified.

    ¡°No¡­¡± he gasped, shaking his skull and steadying his silver blade. The need for revenge and his bloodlust raged within him, each new action taken by the demon only fueling it. He desperately tried to quell it, to calm it down and keep him from being taken over by it. His right eye glowed even more intensely blue. ¡°No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!¡±

    He jumped up into the air in a tight front flip. Halfway through the flip, he teleported to a spot just above and in front of the now cruelly laughing demon¡¯s mouth. With a furious snarl like a tiger, Agent Mann jabbed his sword backwards into the fleshy, exposed roof of the demon¡¯s mouth. His holy blade cut straight up through the bastard¡¯s head and clanged against its skull.

    Ectoplasm dribbled out of the demon¡¯s mouth, and it choked once, twice.

    Then its blood red body faded into shadow. The demon-darkness in the room dissipated. Moonlight crept through the boarded-up windows of the entrance hall and connecting hallways once more. The supernatural chill in the air vanished, replaced by the slight breeze wafting through the broken glass.

    It was over. Perhaps not forever, but it was over.

    Trembling, panting, Agent Mann dashed from the storage room to where Jacob¡¯s body lay in the once-more normal entrance hall. He knelt down next to it sadly. All of his rage washed away from him, leaving him with a crushing emptiness. He¡¯d failed to protect this innocent life.

    Red blood poured in small rivers out of the soulless body. Three deep puncture wounds marred the corpse and the black Bi the Way shirt it wore. They were so deep, Mann could see the smashed ribs and mangled innards. The FBI operative regarded the corpse with melancholy. This poor kid had had a good heart, and was even a wielder of the Right Hand of God; he could¡¯ve saved many more lives if he¡¯d only survived the night. And not only that; he¡¯d saved the revenant¡¯s own life.

    He¡¯d earned a special place in Mann¡¯s heart.

    ¡°You could¡¯ve done so much good,¡± Agent Mann said softly. He made to stand up, paused a moment, then closed the corpse¡¯s eyes. It seemed like the right thing to do. He then fully stood up and frowned at his silver sword, which dripped with disgusting ectoplasm. It didn¡¯t seem right to purify a soul with a blade dirtied by the blood of said soul¡¯s killer, but Mann didn¡¯t have much of a choice. If he waited any longer, Jacob¡¯s soul, trapped on Earth, risked becoming a vengeful spirit.

    Sighing, the skeleton agent turned to Jacob¡¯s floating soul.

    He gaped.

    The periwinkle, wispy spirit glowed purpled and flicked about in the stale air of the McArthurs¡¯ crypt-like mansion. Parts of it billowed outwards, then swung back in with the rest of the writhing soul. It looked as though it were desperately fighting something. Agent Mann watched, unsure of what to do; he¡¯d never seen a freshly released soul act like this before, even after being trapped by demon-darkness.

    ¡°What on Earth¡­?¡± he breathed as he watched, leaning forward in utter amazement.

    The soul writhed and wriggled, bucking like a bull that some poor sap had decided to ride. Its purple glow brightened but was occasionally snuffed out, only to return twice as brighter. And whatever it was doing seemed to be working. It slowly, painfully slowly, turned from the depressing periwinkle of a ghost unable to pass on (be it from personal or external issues), to a lighter blue; then from that to a pale white.

    Agent Mann¡¯s eye sockets widened in comprehension. ¡°Incredible! This kid¡¯s soul is instinctively using its Right Hand of God as an immune system, fighting back against the demon-darkness¡­ Simply incredible!¡±

    At last, after five desperate minutes, it again achieved the pure white of a purified soul. Mann¡¯s skull broke out into a wide, impressed smile, but the night¡¯s surprises didn¡¯t end there. Even as the soul once more began to rise up to the heavens, it jerked down purposefully, struggling downwards to its fallen body. Like a swimmer in molasses, it gradually drew closer to its destination. It fought the almost gravitational force that pulled it upwards and inched further and further down.

    Finally, one white wisp of a soul touched a mangled body, and Jacob Davidson¡¯s eyes shot open as he drew in a ragged breath. Even the three bloody wounds on his chest closed up as his breathing returned to a heavy, labored pace. Something was off, though. He still looked pale, though, his dark skin a lighter-than-normal shade of brown. And instead of having two dark brown eyes, only his left one retained its usual color; the other shone in a rich, dangerous blue.

    Jacob flipped over, propped himself up on weak limbs, and heaved. Blood oozed from his mouth and splattered against the floorboards. But the blood wasn¡¯t red; it was an inky black.

    Agent Mann¡¯s mind caught up to his eye sockets, and his jaw hit the floor as he finally connected the dots.

    Jacob Davidson, user of the Right Hand of God, had become a revenant.

 Chapter 3 - Skeletons in the Closet

    <u>Chapter 3: Skeletons in the Closet</u>

    Tired eyes blinked open, blinding spots dappling the surface of his vision. Warm sunlight beamed through the spotless window. Sleep pulled at his brain, and he groaned exasperatedly at the incessant beeping of the alarm clock sitting on his small, short bedside table. He lingered several seconds more in the mysterious state between wakefulness and its opposite. Then Jacob yawned and finally waded out of the surf of slumber, fully stepping onto the beach of consciousness. He punched the off button of his alarm, hard.

    The pure tan of his ceiling swam into view. The pleasant and comforting warmth of his blanket surrounded him. A nice, circular breeze, originating from the white ceiling fan in the center of the room, cooled his face. He was back in his bedroom.

    With a quick ruffle of bedsheets, Jacob sat up and looked down, touching three different parts of his chest. His hand met smooth skin, dark and firm. Everything looked normal. He saw no blood.

    Jacob sighed a relieved little sigh and collapsed back into his bed, his head and its short crew cut sinking into his fluffy pillow.

    Last night had been a dream, after all!

    Grateful to be alive, he laughed out loud; joy spread through his chest. He spent the next few minutes just chuckling on his bed, loving the feeling of his rising and falling chest. That dream had been terrifying. He¡¯d truly thought that he¡¯d died for a moment there.

    Then his dad rapped heavily on his bedroom door, and he immediately stopped laughing.

    ¡°Keep it down in there!¡± his dad¡¯s voice, gruff and annoyed¡ªits default tone¡ªcalled through the door. ¡°People are trying to actually sleep here! Namely, me!¡±

    Jacob rolled his eyes and slipped out of bed. The light green carpet was soft and warm. Stretching stiff muscles, he groaned, ¡°Yes, sir!¡±

    ¡°And get ready for the day, dimwit! If you stay holed up in your room for one more day this summer, I¡¯ll force feed you cauliflower for a week. A week!¡±

    Jacob shuddered. The prospect of that was even more terrifying than his dream had been. Cauliflower was evil.

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± he said again. His father, evidently please with his acknowledgement, grunted, and the sound of footsteps retreated from the other side of the bedroom door. Jacob rolled his eyes, pulled his plaid pajama pants past his knees, and then stepped out of them. Then he tossed them on his plain, midnight blue bedsheets with a snort. His father could be such a drama queen sometimes.

    A pair of American Eagle underwear followed the pajama pants, and Jacob decided to take a shower. He walked past a bookshelf overflowing with all kinds of books (though most dealt with the occult and paranormal), as well as a desk that was messy with school books, pencils, pens, and paper. Opposite this was a closet, its sliding doors closed. Jacob paid none of these details any mind, however, for his focus was on getting to the bathroom.

    One relaxing fifteen-minute shower and three badly sung renditions of Highway to Hell later, Jacob dried himself off and returned to his room. His already dark hair was even darker from wetness, and a white towel draped around his waist. Humming a tune, tapping his foot, Jacob made his way to his closed closet and slid one of the doors open.

    He yelped and scrambled backwards so fast, he tripped over the green swivel chair that was rolled up against his desk. Tears automatically formed in his eyes, and he rubbed them away tenderly.

    ¡°WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY BEDROOM!?¡± Jacob exploded, propping himself up with an elbow on the table. He pointed furiously at the grinning, chuckling figure standing in his closet. ¡°AND OF ALL THE PLACES YOU COULD¡¯VE CHOSEN, WHY THERE!?¡±

    The skeleton shrugged, amused at his reaction, and Agent Mann literally came out of the closet. ¡°Because I like a good joke, and this was the perfect opportunity for one. I mean, you try being nothing but bones and not wanting to be in someone¡¯s closet for the hilarity of their expression when they find out?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not funny, that¡¯s just creepy!¡± Jacob groaned, and he slumped against the desk to rub his tired eyes. ¡°Seriously, dude, I nearly had a heart attack just now.¡±

    ¡°Impossible, considering what you are now,¡± Agent Mann said. All the mirth had left his voice, leaving only the British accent and a sense of seriousness that made the room feel cold and disturbing.

    An egg settled in Jacob¡¯s throat. If Mann was real, then¡­

    ¡°What happened to me?¡± Jacob swallowed, the memory of last night flashing through his head. He¡¯d wanted to believe it had all been a dream, but Agent Mann stood right there before him in the flesh (er¡­ in the bones). And as crazy as he was, his dreams had never overlaid themselves upon reality before.

    A sickening feeling rose in his gut as Agent Mann glanced away from him guiltily, the revenant¡¯s finger bones clenching into fists.

    ¡°Last night,¡± the older being announced, like soldiers presenting a fallen friend¡¯s shroud to the corpse¡¯s family at three in the morning, ¡°you died.¡±

    Jacob¡¯s throat felt dry. For two seconds, his mouth didn¡¯t work. It opened, but no sound came through. Then he leaned forward, clutching the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white. ¡°No, no, no, that¡¯s impossible!¡± he denied, shaking his head. ¡°I can¡¯t be dead, I just can¡¯t! I mean, I¡¯m sitting right here, talking to you!¡±

    ¡°You ARE!¡± Mann exploded regretfully, and his fist slammed so hard into the wall behind him that the whole room felt the tremor. ¡°And I couldn¡¯t do anything to save you! It was all my fault, even the reason why you died¡ªto protect me, when I should¡¯ve been the one protecting you¡­¡±

    The pain and self-hate in his pitch was real, genuine. But Jacob still couldn¡¯t believe it. He just¡­ couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°But I¡¯m still here,¡± he insisted weakly, and Mann¡¯s right eye glowed blue.

    ¡°Check your heartbeat if you¡¯re so sure you¡¯re a living human, then!¡±

    My heartbeat? Gingerly, slowly, the tall teen lifted two fingers to his neck. He pressed them against a spot on the side of it, as his gym teacher had taught him to. A terrible chill raced down his spine. Half a minute passed, but he felt nothing. Jacob gulped. That was okay. That didn¡¯t necessarily mean anything; lots of people had trouble finding their pulse in their neck, and checking it through the wrist was still an option.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Hoping against every hope, he checked the pulse through his wrist.

    Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

    ¡°No,¡± he stammered, clutching his aching head, ¡°no, no, no. I can¡¯t just be dead¡­ I c-can¡¯t just be dead!¡±

    Agent Mann sighed and looked at the floor. This talk was always so hard, and it wasn¡¯t likely to get any easier. ¡°If you still don¡¯t believe me, look at yourself in the mirror.¡±

    After a moment¡¯s pause, Jacob rushed to follow the suggestion. He raced out of his bedroom. His bare feet slid against still-wet tiles, and he stopped right in front of the wall mirror sitting above his marble sink. He looked at his reflection. It was still there, and seemed almost entirely normal¡­ but his right eye glowed blue, just like Agent Mann¡¯s sometimes did.

    He had the horrible notion that if he were to cut himself, thick, black ectoplasm would ooze out of the wound.

    Agent Mann appeared in the entrance to the bathroom. He leaned sadly against the white door, watching as Jacob, pale as a ghost, touched his reflection¡¯s right eye.

    ¡°I¡¯m a revenant, aren¡¯t I?¡± Jacob¡¯s voice was barely above a hoarse whisper. ¡°I¡¯m just like you now.¡±

    ¡°You catch on quicker than most,¡± Mann observed. He hated this. This poor kid shouldn¡¯t have had to catch on quicker than most. He shouldn¡¯t have to be going through all this mental agony.

    Jacob took a horrified step away from the mirror, both hands on his head now. His whole body trembled, and he desperately blinked away budding tears. He backed up against the wall and flinched before whirling away. The poor guy staggered out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom like a drunkard. Agent Mann followed to make sure he wouldn¡¯t accidentally hurt himself; while it was true that not many earthly objects could hurt the body of a revenant, in this mental state, Jacob might use his Right Hand of God without thinking.

    Jacob¡¯s head lolled as he stumbled to his bed, and he gripped his bed cover tightly. For a few seconds, he just stood there, panting. Then, a growl rumbled from his lips, and he ripped the cover off his bed with a loud, pained cry. He blindly tossed it somewhere¡ªanywhere¡ªand kicked the wall as hard as he could. It didn¡¯t even hurt his foot, and this knowledge only added to his anguish. Jacob picked up his chair and slammed it against his cabinet door, creating a heavy thud.

    ¡°You better not be wrecking your room up there, young man!¡± his dad¡¯s voice shouted from elsewhere in the apartment, but Jacob didn¡¯t hear.

    He was too busy tearing books of his bookshelf and spilling them all over the surrounding floor. He was like a young child in a temper tantrum. Tears streamed from his eyes, and Jacob tried to grasp at his hair and pull it out. This was very hard to do with a crew cut, though, and the newly-made revenant soon gave up on this endeavor. Instead, he vented his mess of emotions by simply slamming his palms against the surface of his desk.

    ¡°DAMMIT!¡± he shouted, and smacked the desk again. ¡°Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why¡¯d I have to go and do that!? Why couldn¡¯t I have just moved away so you could¡¯ve been unhindered by my presence there!? Why did I have to go and fucking DIE!?¡±

    Agent Mann observed quietly; he knew that only Jacob could get himself over this now. Revenants were well-known for being creatures of vengeance, who only rested until they found their target; but not all were like that. These next few minutes were crucial for Jacob. If the boy couldn¡¯t lift himself out of his grief-induced rage, he¡¯d forever be bent on vengeance. If he quelled his anger, then he¡¯d be able to continue on ¡°living¡± as normal, with no one having any idea that he was now supernatural.

    Dull slaps rang throughout Jacob¡¯s bedroom as his hands repeatedly brutalized his desk. The seventeen-year-old¡¯s sobs made Agent Mann¡¯s heart ache, despite the fact that he didn¡¯t have a heart. A minute passed, and Jacob¡¯s state did not change; he just kept slapping, kept demanding to know why he¡¯d done this. Another minute passed with similar results, and the FBI operative carefully reached under his black fur coat. His fingerbones clasped around the hilt of his holy silver sword, which hung sheathed at his hip bone.

    He needed to be prepared for the worst. Agent Mann hated killing other revenants, but if they became uncontrollable and dangerous to everyone around them, then it had to be done.

    The next few seconds passed crushingly slowly.

    Then, with barely a minute left, Jacob¡¯s breathing returned to normal. His hands hovered mid-slap, and then he straightened up, allowing his arms to fall back stiffly at his sides. He looked at Skul Mann with a depressingly sad gaze. His right eye no longer glowed blue; rather, it had returned to its usual brown.

    Jacob¡¯s right hand lifted up, shaking terribly, and he pointed at his eye.

    ¡°How do I fix this?¡± he rasped, the words weak from all his sobbing and shouting.

    Agent Mann¡¯s hand released the grip of his sheathed weapon, and he relaxed. ¡°You already have,¡± he said proudly. ¡°You¡¯re still a revenant, and you¡¯re still dead, but you can return to your normal daily ¡®life¡¯ from now on.¡±

    Relief spread over the dark contours of Jacob¡¯s face, and he wiped the tears from his eyes and cheeks. The two revenants were silent for a couple moments, both simply glad for Jacob¡¯s return to somewhat normalcy. Then Jacob glanced down and seemed to realize that he was still only in his towel, which by now remained hanging on his waist by luck alone.

    ¡°I¡¯m, uh, going to get some clothes on,¡± Jacob told his fellow revenant, who nodded and turned around in an offer of privacy. The teen selected a pair of underwear from his wardrobe, then dropped the towel to his floor and pulled the underwear on instead. He then turned and walked over to his still-open closet, examining its contents. As he did so, a thought entered his head and he decided to say it aloud. ¡°Hey, why are you still here, anyway? And how¡¯d I even get back home?¡±

    ¡°After I killed the demon in the mansion and you became a revenant, you passed out. You¡¯d already told me your name, though, so it was a simple matter of getting my colleagues in the FBI to check for any Jacob Davidsons living in Normal or nearby towns. They found your address and emailed it back to me, and from there I just teleported us both around the town several times until I found your family¡¯s apartment. I broke in and put you back in your bed, and the rest is history.¡±

    ¡°¡­Okay, makes sense,¡± Jacob said as he shrugged on a yellow shirt with the words Golden State stenciled on it. ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer why, though.¡±

    Agent Mann paused, then rubbed the side of his skull and explained. ¡°After you saved me from a second, more permanent death, I couldn¡¯t just leave you alone. You had the chance to become the type of revenant focused solely on killing anything and everything near you, and I figured that if you woke up in the same place you died in, that chance would be far greater. Most importantly, though, if you did happen to refuse to give into your anger and grief¡ªas is the case¡ªI wanted to offer you some options.¡±

    Jacob, halfway through tugging on some jeans, blinked and turned to the FBI operative. ¡°Options?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Three.¡± A brief beat of thought followed before Mann spoke again. ¡°First, I can stay here and train you in your new revenant powers, and then go on my way. Second, I can do the above, but instead of going on my way, get you hired with the FBI¡¯s Supernatural Relations department as my assistant. They¡¯re not too picky about the age of the supernatural creature as long as the skill is there and said creature won¡¯t go rogue. Third, I can simply leave you be.¡±

    Jacob blinked. He hadn¡¯t even thought about the fact that he might have new powers and skills now.

    He frowned, and returned to tugging on his jeans. After several moments of thinking, he said, ¡°Can you give me a day or two to consider this?¡±

    Agent Mann nodded. ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll leave you with my business card, and when you reach your decision, please call.¡±

    Jacob smiled as he zipped up his fly. ¡°Definitely. Now can you get out of my room, please? It really is weird.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a walking skeleton creature; weird is in the job description,¡± Agent Mann joked, and, still facing away from Jacob, gave him a cheerful salute. He dug out a small card from his fur coat and set it on Jacob¡¯s messy desk. ¡°But sure thing. Just open the window and I¡¯ll leave you to decide.¡±

    Now fully clothed, the teen nodded and made his way to the single window in the room. He unlatched it and pushed it open, the warm sunlight dancing on his black skin. He turned to the other revenant with a warm smile. It was weird, but he already kind of liked Agent Mann. Maybe fighting demons (that definitely weren¡¯t actual demons, because those didn¡¯t exist) together just did that to people; made them more open to liking each other.

    ¡°Well, then, I¡¯ll see ya around,¡± Jacob said, saluting Agent Mann back, and the revenant turned to him with a grin.

    ¡°You¡¯re a good kid, Jacob Davidson. No bones about it. I look forward to your call.¡±

    Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

    Jacob stared out the window at the cloudless morning sky. He might not be alive anymore, but he had a lot to think about. He only hoped that whatever decision he eventually made would be the right one.

 Chapter 4 - I Dream of Jeannie (Part 1)

    <u>Chapter 4: I Dream of Jeannie (Part 1)</u>

    Breakfast that morning was an unusually quiet affair. The three Davidsons sitting around the dining table were normally much rowdier and louder. While there was still some semblance of this¡ªMr. Davidson openly complained about everything from Jacob¡¯s choice of clothing to the way that the mailman had put the newspaper in their P.O. box¡ªbut it was nowhere near as much as normal.

    Metal utensils clinked against porcelain. Soft chewing filled the air, along with the delicious aroma of greasy bacon, piping hot sausage, and melt-in-your-mouth eggs.

    ¡°¡ªAnd then when I tried to get money to pay for the damn chicken, the clerk went and gave it to the guy behind me! Can you believe it!?¡± Mr. Davidson threw his fork down on his plate in disgust as he finished telling the tale of his most recent grievance. ¡°The nerve!¡±

    Seated across the table from Jacob, 26-year-old Daniel Davidson raised an eyebrow at his younger brother knowingly. The boy snorted and rolled his eyes. Mr. Davidson observed the exchange suspiciously.

    ¡°Well, Dad, going to the ATM that sat on the opposite side of the store probably made the clerk think you didn¡¯t want the chicken.¡± As he spoke, Daniel readjusted the collar of his black suit, and shifted his red-and-white striped tie so it hung perfectly straight down the center of his chest.

    ¡°Daniel,¡± Mr. Davidson, his long nose raised haughtily, ¡°shut up.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Daniel uttered, rolling his eyes back at Jacob. He was taller than his younger brother; at his full height, he stretched up 6¡¯6¡±. With his toned muscles, broad shoulders, boxy face, and slick suit, he looked like a very dangerous businessman who led a second life in a boxing ring. But he wasn¡¯t dangerous at all; he was one of the kindest, most peaceful people Jacob knew.

    ¡°Don¡¯t yes, sir me¡ªI told you to shut up,¡± his father grumbled, and Jacob gave him a look that Mr. Davidson liked to call ¡®the bitch face.¡¯

    ¡°But, Dad, how¡¯s he supposed to show he understands you without saying that?¡±

    Dad, taken aback, sputtered. ¡°W-Well! I don¡¯t know!¡± He was quiet for a couple seconds. ¡°Daniel, why are you all dressed up, anyway? You look like a right fool wearing that at the breakfast table.¡±

    Daniel stiffened, and a proud grin spread up his face. ¡°Because today, I¡¯m registering for the special election of town mayor! I¡¯m going down to the town hall as soon as breakfast is over in order to register as a candidate.¡±

    A pause lapsed. ¡°You were serious about that?¡± Mr. Davidson said skeptically. ¡°Well, I hate to sai it, but a black man like you or me running for Normal mayor? No one would vote for you, son.¡±

    Jacob gritted his teeth and frowned. ¡°Maybe in your time, Dad, but this is the twenty-first century. People don¡¯t care about race in elections nearly as much as they used to.¡±

    ¡°Besides, I¡¯m already smarter and more qualified than any of the others who¡¯ve been strongly considering candidacy,¡± Daniel added. ¡°I¡¯ve got a law degree from Harvard, and I¡¯m running to help people, not make myself rich.¡±

    Dad sighed and finished off his last piece of bacon. ¡°Well, son, don¡¯t come crying to me when you lose,¡± he grumbled, and Daniel jerked up, pissed. Before he could say something, though, the family patriarch grabbed his now empty plate, stood up, and went to put it in the sink. He muttered, ¡°I make damn good scrambled eggs.¡± (His own cooking was the only thing he never complained about.) Then he retreated into his bedroom and closed the door, probably to sulk alone and watch college football.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill our old man one of these days,¡± Daniel said hotly as he stabbed a sausage link with his fork.

    Jacob winced.

    Even as nice as he was, when it came to their father, Daniel often saw red. It was the trouble of opposites repelling each other instead of attracting. Mr. Davidson may¡¯ve been the spitting image of an older, more grizzled Daniel with a more hawk-like nose, but they were night and day. Whereas their father was the Pessimist King, Jacob¡¯s older brother always saw the best in people and the world around him.

    ¡°So, how was your job last night?¡± Daniel asked, changing the subject. He was one of the few people who believed in the work Jacob did; who believed him when he said ghosts were real. ¡°Anything interesting happen?¡±

    Jacob silently chewed a bite of eggs. ¡°Nothing much,¡± he said woodenly. He didn¡¯t want Daniel to know that about that mess.

    ¡°So, then, I suppose all that shouting earlier about how you went and died counts as ¡®nothing much?¡¯¡±

    Jacob flinched so badly, he accidentally knocked his glass of orange juice over. Luckily, it was nearly empty already, so he had time to hurriedly pick it up before it stained the white table cloth.

    Daniel raised an eyebrow. Jacob wanted to facepalm.

    ¡°You heard all that?¡± he asked quietly. A sudden thought shot through his head. ¡°Dad didn¡¯t¡­ did he?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t make out all of it, but what I was able to clued me in,¡± his brother admitted. ¡°As for dad, he was making breakfast with Black Sabbath turned up full blast, so I doubt it. His hearing¡¯s getting bad enough without the addition of loud music and sizzling breakfast foods.¡± A sad, worried frown crossed Daniel¡¯s lips. ¡°Jacob, you didn¡¯t really¡­ die last night, right? I mean¡­ please tell me you¡¯re not some weird sort of ghost.¡±

    Jacob hesitated, and then he looked to the side. ¡°Yeah,¡± he muttered. ¡°A¡­ d-demon got me.¡± It just felt so unnatural to say the word demon. Daniel gaped; he knew how vehement the seventeen-year-old was about Heaven and Hell not existing. Jacob sighed and said, ¡°Apparently, I became a revenant, though.¡±

    Now Daniel¡¯s brow furrowed. He looked like a dog trying to figure out what new loud noise was going off. ¡°What, like Leonardo di Caprio?¡±

    Juice exploded from his younger brother¡¯s mouth, and Jacob coughed desperately. He pounded his chest with his fist and heaved. When he¡¯d at last hacked up everything that went down the wrong pipe, he looked up at Daniel like, Are you actually kidding me right now? ¡°What!? No, you moron! It¡¯s a kind of cross between a zombie and a vampire, complete with a human soul.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± A dark frown hung on Daniel¡¯s face for a while. But just when Jacob thought the man was going to say something profound or melancholic, he said, ¡°Sooo¡­ should I get the garlic, or the baseball bat?¡±

    Jacob stared. ¡°Daniel, you¡¯re the smartest person I know, but you¡¯re an idiot.¡±

    For several beats, they just stared at each other.

    Then they started laughing. It felt so good to laugh and joke about such a depressing subject as his own paranormal-ness, it helped Jacob feel alive again. It helped him feel like his death didn¡¯t matter. He¡¯d been worried that Daniel would treat him differently if he were to find out, and the fact that this fear was unfounded was an immense relief. All of his worry and stress bubbled up, up out of him melding with the air in happy little snorts and sounds, like water vapor in a teapot.

    When they¡¯d quieted back down, Jacob leaned back in his chair contentedly. ¡°Thanks for being cool about this, bro.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m your brother,¡± Daniel said seriously. ¡°If I¡¯m not able to be cool about it, then who the hell will?¡± He frowned. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t get me wrong. I really don¡¯t like the idea that you¡¯re, you¡¯re, well, undead now. But¡­ I¡¯m just glad that you¡¯re still with us, Jacob. I¡¯d have really missed you, and if Dad had lost mom and you, I don¡¯t think he¡¯d be able to live with himself.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The previously cheerful mood took a nosedive and crashed into Hudson Bay.

    ¡°¡­Once we¡¯re done with breakfast,¡± Jacob asked sullenly, desperate for something else to talk about, ¡°can I go downtown with you? I want to go visit the East Main Street Coffee House and think about a few things.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, Jacob.¡±

    Silence fell upon the table, and the two brothers returned to eating their meal. After a minute of this, Jacob looked up and said, ¡°Daniel? You¡¯re going to kick ass in that election.¡±

    Daniel grinned. ¡°I know.¡±

    The brothers quickly finished up breakfast and got ready to go out. Jacob made sure to grab his shades; a quick look outside told him the sky was still one clear blanket of blue. Daniel, who for all his smartness had a very bad time remembering to bring everything places, rushed around the apartment, scrambling about in a frenzy.

    ¡°Do you have your signature sheet?¡± Jacob, standing in the mini hall between his room and the bathroom, asked with no small amount of amusement as Daniel rushed by.

    ¡°No¡ªwait, never mind, yes. It was with the documents in the manila folder I had under my arm.¡±

    As his older brother ducked into the bathroom, Jacob continued. ¡°And your phone?¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡± The words echoed out into the wall.

    ¡°Your wallet?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°What about your ID?¡±

    ¡°Jesus Christ, man, you¡¯re like a goddamn mother hen, and you¡¯re nine years younger than me. That¡¯s just weird, dude. And, yeah, I¡¯ve got my¡­ wait.¡±

    A flash of black skin and ponytail sped by him, and Daniel¡¯s bedroom door swung open a moment later. Rays of brilliant sunlight from the man¡¯s open window spilled into the hall, dappling the shadowed, white tiles of the floor with brightened color. Jacob raised an eyebrow. His brother had practically matched the speed at which last night¡¯s demon had been fighting Agent Mann. Impressive.

    Daniel emerged from his room, wallet and ID in hand. He stuck the little card in his wallet, and slipped the wallet into his dress pants¡¯ pocket.

    ¡°Alright, Jacob, I¡¯ve got it now; let¡¯s leave,¡± Daniel said, and they started for the door. They were already outside their fifth-floor apartment and waiting for the elevator to come up when Jacob happened to look down.

    ¡°¡­Daniel. Your shoes?¡±

    Daniel looked down.

    ¡°¡­Fuck.¡±

    Jacob snickered as Daniel raced back into their apartment. Sometimes, he really had no idea how his brother had passed through law school with actually good grades. At last, Daniel had everything put together, and their elevator arrived. They rode it down to ground level, left the complex, and emerged on the street below.

    Normal¡¯s nine major roads were arranged in a sort of devil¡¯s trap shape; the original founder of the town had believed strongly in the occult. Two bridges crossed over the Red River on the pentagon¡¯s west side, and likewise on the Beaver River surrounding its eastern side. The city actually extended past the two rivers and the devil¡¯s trap itself, but most of that was suburbs and cheaper apartment complexes, including the Davidson¡¯s. Inside the pentagon, one could find all the major shopping malls, local government buildings, the jail, warehouses for self-storage, and more expensive housing/apartment complexes. To the south of the pentagon lay a series of foothills, where the late McArthurs¡¯ mansion was located.

    To get downtown¡ªinside the devil¡¯s trap¡ªJacob and Daniel crossed Garfield Bridge, the northernmost bridge leading over the Red River. Cars whizzed past them, hurrying to get into town. Joggers and bikers raced past, calling out good mornings or honking. Below them, the water sparkled in the summer sunlight; here and there, a fish leaped out the surface. As far as cities went, the bridge was quiet and peaceful; then the Davidson brothers reached Terry Street and the sounds of city life skyrocketed.

    Jacob and Daniel chatted animatedly as they walked down Terry Street, about whatever they wanted to. They discussed the Normal Sluggers baseball team, who other Ohioan cities liked to joke were just your average batters. They (or rather, Daniel) talked about Jacob¡¯s love life, which was universally known to be in the dumps. Jacob rolled his eyes and lightly punched Daniel for bringing it up.

    ¡°Ow!¡± Daniel grunted as he staggered back several feet from the blow. ¡°That hurt!¡±

    Jacob blinked. ¡°Wait, what? That was half-hearted. I only meant to play-hit you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, it didn¡¯t feel like that,¡± his brother muttered. He suddenly stiffened and looked at Jacob with wide eyes. ¡°Hold on, you don¡¯t think being a revenant gives you greater strength, do you?¡±

    Jacob¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Wait, you think so?¡±

    ¡°I felt like I got hit by a sumo wrestler or some shit just now, so yeah.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Jacob blinked again. He¡¯d always wanted super strength. He just never thought he¡¯d have to die to gain it.

    Daniel, now recovered, straightened the manila folder he carried at his side, ran back up to be next to his brother, and wrapped an arm around the boy¡¯s neck. ¡°Man, I¡¯ll bet you¡¯re the strongest kid in school now! Tiffany will want a piece of those muscles for sure, now.¡±

    ¡°Dude, she¡¯s just my friend. Shove off.¡±

    Jacob pushed him away, and Daniel did shove off: straight into the nearest lamppost. His head smacked into it and he stumbled away, dazed. Jacob flinched.

    ¡°S-Sorry, man.¡±

    ¡°Dude.¡± Daniel shook his head like a dog and fixed Jacob with a serious stare. ¡°We have got to get a handle on that strength of yours.¡±

    ¡°I said I was sorry¡­¡±

    At last, they reached their next stop, the crossroads between West Jones Avenue and Terry Street. Here was where they¡¯d part ways. It was a shorter distance for Jacob to continue walking straight down their current street instead of turning, and vice versa for Daniel. The town hall was in the center of the devil¡¯s trap, whereas the East Main Street Coffee House was on the other side of town.

    ¡°Knock ¡®em flat, Daniel!¡± Jacob said, saluting his brother, who snorted.

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll just get you to do that for me.¡±

    They snickered.

    ¡°Seriously though, man, good luck.¡±

    ¡°The election ain¡¯t happening yet, but thanks, little bro. See ya later.¡±

    ¡°See ya.¡±

    Jacob continued walking down the sidewalk and Daniel walked south down West Jones Avenue. He hummed as he went, the teen¡¯s finger tapping on his side. Music was as much a part of his life as the occult, and he loved old rock with an especially large passion: AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Queen. It was one of the few things he shared in common with his father. When he started singing or humming, usually to rock, he¡¯d often get focused on doing that and zone out.

    However, as he neared the middle of Terry Street, a crowd gathered around an alleyway caught Jacob¡¯s attention; mostly because it was a very unusual space for a crowd to gather. The police car parked by the road with its lights blinking, as well as the ambulance behind it, also helped.

    He paused, and decided to see what was going on.

    Jacob pushed through the crowd, which was pretty small and only consisted of about twenty or so people, and made his way to the front. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked no one in particular as he noticed yellow police tape holding back the crowd.

    ¡°Someone was murdered,¡± a girl¡¯s soft, feathery voice said conspiratorially from beside him, and a finger pointed forward. She sounded familiar, but Jacob was more interested in the crime scene. His eyes searched for the spot to which it indicated.

    He hissed in shock.

    Laying there on the asphalt of the alley, amongst several cops taking a slew of crime scene photos, was a man covered in sheets who was being lifted up on a stretcher by uniformed paramedics. Horrifically, though, black goo covered the man¡¯s body, his lips were a cold blue, and his eyes¡­ his eyes were horrific. Bulging out of his head, they were blank white orbs, and the veins popped out in a disturbing complex of veins.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Jacob said, swallowing. That black goo¡ªthat was ectoplasm. He could tell from over here.

    ¡°Wait. Jake? Hah, I should¡¯ve known that was you!¡±

    Jacob¡¯s eyes flicked to the right, and nervous goosebumps immediately ran up and down his arms. Had his heart been working, it would¡¯ve been beating a million times a second. Standing there next to him as the person who¡¯d been pointing was none other than Tiffany Smith, a girl who¡¯d he¡¯d been friends with for as long as he could remember. Lately, though, he¡¯d started to think of her as a little more than a friend.

    ¡°Hi, Tiff,¡± Jacob said, quickly turning back to the crime scene. The crowd had parted for the paramedics, who stepped over the yellow tape hurriedly.

    Tiffany bounced peppily, shaking Jacob¡¯s arm. ¡°Man, can you believe that? That looks so terrible¡­ Who do you think could¡¯ve done it, Jake?¡± Tiffany¡¯s fiery red locks flowed down her head and over the shoulders of her green Normal Public High School hoodie as she nodded in eager wait of his reply. She looked cutely boyish, with a solidly defined chin and her lithe, thin form.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Jacob said quietly so the other people in the crowd wouldn¡¯t hear. He leaned into Tiffany¡¯s ear. ¡°I think it might be something supernatural, though.¡±

    Tiffany¡¯s sapphire orbs sparkled with excitement. She, along with Jacob¡¯s two other best friends and Daniel, was another one of the people who believed Jacob. In fact, not only did she believe him, she was jealous of his ability to see ghosts. ¡°What!? No way!¡± she gasped, and then dragged him off, leaving the rest of the crowd to stare at their backs. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go tell the rest of the gang! Adam and Xavier are already in the Coffee House!¡±

    ¡°No way?¡± Jacob said, a grin spreading across his face. He matched her pace now, and Tiffany let go of him. ¡°I was just going there myself. I wanted to have some alone time, but¡­ well, if you guys are gonna be there, I might as well tell you all what happened last night.¡± If Daniel had been cool with his whole revenant thing, he was sure that Tiffany, Adam and Xavier, three of the best people in the entire city, would be as well.

    Tiffany gave him a thumbs-up. ¡°I can¡¯t wait! Tell me all the details!¡±

    Jacob laughed too, her boundless happiness infectious. But as they started to run down Terry Street again, he couldn¡¯t help but think of that poor, dead man back there, being loaded into the ambulance. Those blue lips¡­ those vein-riddled eyes, white as if all the color had been sucked from them¡­ he hadn¡¯t heard of any ghost leaving its victims in that state before.

    He swallowed nervously. Something new was in Normal, and he had no idea what.

 Chapter 5 - I Dream of Jeannie (Part 2)

    <u>Chapter 5: I Dream of Jeannie (Part 2)</u>

    The East Main Street Coffee House was a crossroads for all sorts of people, located on the northern sector of East Main Street (as one might expect). A red brick building snuggled between two more modern ones, it was a cozy little watering hole that Jacob and his little band of friends often drank from. It had a neat green overhang curling down over the door that extended to an outside seating arrangement, which was fenced off from the rest of the street. Casual jazz music always filtered through its open windows; passersby were likely to hear keys dancing up and down the scale, or a saxophone flowing like water. Below the one smaller window left of the redwood door and the two larger ones to its right sat flower boxes that flourished with chrysanthemums, roses, and pink tulips.

    The door jingled happily as Jacob and Tiffany entered. Jacob took a deep breath, a breath full of the calming aroma of warm milk and freshly ground cocoa beans. All the tension left him. The East Main Street Coffee House was fantastic for relaxation.

    ¡°Do you want something to drink?¡± Jacob asked Tiffany, stepping over the flush red welcome mat with his friend right beside him. The ginger hummed and tilted her head, placing a finger on her chin.

    ¡°A double espresso with whipped cream and a couple shots of vanilla,¡± she decided. Then her sapphire eyes widened, the dim but warm light from the ceiling lights glinting off her eyes like gems. ¡°Oh, but you don¡¯t have to but it for me. I didn¡¯t get a job at Subway because I wanted to have less free time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on me, Tiff,¡± Jacob promised, and Tiffany grinned.

    ¡°Aw, such a gentleman.¡±

    Jacob¡¯s cheeks enflamed. ¡°Yeah, well, um,¡± he said eloquently, and wished there was a hole anywhere nearby that he could crawl into.

    He went up to the counter and waited in the short line as Tiffany skipped to the back of the Coffee House, where there was a lounge area with a crackling fireplace and sofas. The sofas were set up in a neat little U-shape, all five of them a welcoming, soft purple with blue pillows. Small tables sat in front of them. Adam and Xavier, in matching Twenty One Pilots shirts, sat together, sipping some coffee and grinning up at Tiffany. She motioned to Jacob, and they looked past her, grinning wider and waving; Jacob waved back.

    At last, the people in front of him had ordered and received their items. Jacob went up to the glass counter, which displayed an appetizing variety of fluffy desserts, and ordered Tiffany¡¯s double espresso as well as a regular coffee with cream and sugar for himself. A few moments later, today¡¯s waitress gave him the drinks, and he paid with a swipe of his Capital One card.

    He made his way to the back of the Coffee House, and Adam and Xavier immediately embarrassed him by moaning loudly.

    ¡°Guys, you sound like you¡¯re working for an xxx movie or something,¡± he deadpanned, as nearby patrons gave them rightfully disturbed stares. He handed Tiffany her coffee and sat down between her and Adam. ¡°A double espresso for the lady.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, a true gentleman,¡± Tiffany said, and she accepted the steaming Styrofoam cup with a flip of her hair. It leaped into the air like sparking embers before settling on her right shoulder, draping down her arm.

    Xavier, who sat on Tiffany¡¯s other side, rolled his eyes, leaned into her ear, and whispered something that was too quiet for Jacob to hear. Her cheeks flushed, and she punched him lightly. ¡°Xavier, man, shut up, really!¡±

    He cackled, and Jacob raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°What exactly was that about?¡± he asked, and Adam and Xavier exchanged flat looks.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t know by now, it¡¯s hopeless for you,¡± Adam said, patting his now undead friend on the shoulder, his eyes closed mournfully like he was a lost cause.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yep, hopeless,¡± Xavier decided.

    Tiffany punched him again and frowned at Adam, who held up a hand in surrender.

    Adam Jones was Xavier Fairway¡¯s long time best friend, and the two were practically brothers. Adam was a computer whiz, and Xavier was one of the best singers in the area; together, they¡¯d started a locally popular band called Half-and-Half. This name had been based on the fact that Xavier was African American while Adam was pretty much the whitest kid Jacob had ever seen. The nerd¡¯s skin was so pale he literally had allergies to the sun, and had to apply medically prescribed sunscreen every three hours or he risked looking like a tomato.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on here,¡± Jacob piped in, and Tiffany plainly ignored the looks that Adam and Xavier sent her.

    ¡°So, anyway,¡± Tiffany, clearly changing the subject from a matter Jacob had no idea about, said hurriedly, ¡°Jake! I already told them about the dead guy we saw on Terry today, so tell us about last night!¡±

    Adam grinned widely. ¡°Oh, yeah, that¡¯s right! Come on, man, we have to know. Was the ghost hot?¡±

    ¡°It was the spirit of an old man with a chunk of his forehead missing,¡± Jacob said flatly.

    ¡°So? You¡¯re into guys, too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, noncorporeal guys who aren¡¯t missing entire chunks of their body.¡±

    Xavier¡¯s dark dreadlocks shook along with the rest of his head, and his tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth. ¡°Now, now, Jacob, that¡¯s rude to disabled people.¡±

    ¡°Xavier,¡± both Jacob and Tiffany said at the same time, ¡°shut up.¡±

    He leaned away from them in mock hurt, and he shrugged. ¡°Wow, okay, team up on a guy. That¡¯s nice. You¡¯re great friends.¡±

    Adam reached across Jacob and his crush to pat Xavier¡¯s shoulder reassuringly. ¡°There, there, it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m still here for you.¡±

    ¡°ADAM!¡± Xavier sobbed happily, standing up.

    Adam wiped a tear from his eyes and stood up, too. He had a very strange skill to somehow force himself to cry whenever he wanted. ¡°XAVIER!¡±

    The two immediately wrapped each other in huge hugs, fake-bawling.

    Jacob was unimpressed. ¡°You two may be straight, but you¡¯re literally more gay than I am.¡±

    Tiffany giggled.

    ¡°Actually,¡± a snarky tenor voice said, despite being muffled by a shirt, ¡°you¡¯re bi, not gay, and wouldn¡¯t it be gayer¡ª?¡±

    The ginger kicked Adam before he could get any further in his grammatical corrections, and the blond flinched in his best friend¡¯s arms. Jacob offered Tiffany a high five, which she accepted.

    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll tell you all once you two stop hugging,¡± Jacob said. The two members of Half-and-Half immediately let go of each other and sat back down. Adam spilled his drink by accident and cursed. Jacob rolled his eyes, then told them his story.

    When he was finished, Tiffany was pale as a sheet, and Adam and Xavier gaped.

    ¡°Whoa!¡± they said in unison, looking at each other in awe. ¡°Our buddy¡¯s a zombie!¡±

    ¡°And the FBI has been hiding supernatural stuff from us all this time!¡± Xavier added.

    Adam¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Xavier, buddy! Do you know what this means?¡±

    Xavier nodded. He lifted up his finger, then another. ¡°One¡­ two¡­¡±

    ¡°THE X FILES WAS RIGHT!¡± both hollered at the top of their lungs. A little soccer mom sitting with her kid in a table against the wall in front of them glared, and they quieted back down.

    Jacob¡¯s hand greeted his forehead. Of course that would be all they¡¯d care about.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Tiffany asked, her boyish face wrinkled with worry. ¡°It must feel weird to be dead.¡±

    He hesitated. ¡°Y-yeah. It¡­ it does. But I¡¯ve come to terms with it, more or less. It¡¯s just¡­ not exactly something I¡¯m used to, you know? Like, I¡¯m fine and all, but I just feel strange.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve always been strange,¡± Adam pointed out. ¡°Now you¡¯re just stranger.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Well, Jacob couldn¡¯t really argue with that. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ kinda true, really,¡± he admitted.

    ¡°So, anyway, we¡¯re here for ya, man,¡± Xavier said with a wide grin. He offered Jacob a fist bump.

    ¡°Bro fist,¡± he said, and their fists connected. They made little explosion sounds with their mouths, and they uncurled their hands to wriggle their fingers.

    Adam stretched his back. He was shorter than Jacob, but his back was already stiff from sitting at computers much of the day, hunched over and punching in code. The boy ran a hand through his sunlight blond hair. ¡°So, about that corpse you guys saw on your way here,¡± he said, giving Jacob a look. ¡°I¡¯ll agree that it¡¯s definitely not normal. Because you see, there¡¯ve already been four others in the area around East Main Street, Terry Street, and East Jones Avenue. Basically, the whole eastern half of the city, over the past four days, have been getting these bodies showing up in them. One body per day. There are no known connections between the vics, and all have pure white eyes¡ªabsolutely no pupil¡ªblue lips, and¡­ get this¡­ no bones.

    Jacob¡¯s eyes widened. He wasn¡¯t grossed out, really, but it definitely sounded like there was something dangerous happening. ¡°Wait, you mean their bones are just¡­ gone?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± Xavier confirmed. He shot Jacob a thumbs-up. ¡°Adam found the police reports, and we talked to some witnesses. Nobody saw the poor guys get offed, but all were found in alleys.¡±

    ¡°Hm¡­¡± Jacob frowned, putting a finger to his chin and rubbing it. Unlike Xavier, who had a full-on beard, or Adam, who had stubble, Jacob and his completely hairless chin could actually rub a moustache; he just did it in pretend. ¡°That¡¯s really weird. Sounds like my kind of thing, definitely, and I know for a fact that the blood on that guy earlier was ectoplasm.¡± He said this quietly enough that only his friends would be able to hear.

    ¡°Group research in the library?¡± Tiffany suggested, smiling.

    He nodded. ¡°Group research in the library.¡±

    ¡°First,¡± Adam objected, ¡°we drink our coffees. Then it¡¯s library time.¡±

    Xavier immediately chugged his whole cup of coffee.

    ¡°¡­Fuck you, Xavier.¡±

    ¡°You know you love me, babe,¡± Xavier replied smoothly.

    ¡°Like I said before,¡± Jacob deadpanned, ¡°you¡¯re both literally gayer than me.¡±

    ~o~

    ¡°So what you¡¯re saying, is to stop this thing,¡± Jacob said flatly as they walked from the library to the nearest antique store, ¡°is an oil lamp.¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± Adam said. His face was round and pudgy, his smile calm and small.

    ¡°An oil lamp.¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°How on Earth am I supposed to capture a supernatural killer who can potentially steal my soul, take my bones out of my body to eat them, and make my corpse have aniridia with a fucking oil lamp?¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a jinn, basically,¡± Xavier jumped in. ¡°All you¡¯ll really need to do is get the jinn to touch it, and then it should be trapped inside. If it¡¯s killing people like this and eating their bones, that means it probably doesn¡¯t have a master, at least if what that book we found said was true. So somewhere along the way, it must¡¯ve gotten its lamp broken to move around. That means it has to have some way to survive, right, since they can live indefinitely inside lamps but not in the real world? That¡¯s why it eats people¡¯s bones.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Jacob said slowly, ¡°but what all does this have to do with proving I can trap it inside a lamp by touching the thing with it?¡±

    Tiffany shrugged. ¡°Well, I dunno. I just suggested it because of the genies from Aladdin.¡±

    ¡°So, a Disney movie is all that stands between me and becoming the opposite of what Agent Mann is.¡± Jacob sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. ¡°Greaaaat. Well, I suppose we had even less to go on with that Stymphalian bird invasion last year, since all we knew was that Hercules is Hercules and won because he¡¯s Hercules.¡±

    ¡°See?¡± Adam said cheerfully. ¡°Anything can be done if you just believe!¡± He made a rainbow in the air with his hands.

    ¡°That¡¯s for The More You Know.¡±

    ¡°¡­I know that.¡±

    Tiffany rolled her eyes. ¡°You did not.¡±

    ¡°Shut up, Tiffany,¡± the electronical music composer huffed. Tiffany blew him a kiss and whipped her hair around, and Xavier clapped him on the back.

    ¡°Leave the references to Jacob next time, bud,¡± he said, earning him a sigh.

    As the other three teens laughed, Adam huffed and buried his hands in his pockets. He looked like a very annoyed Edmund Pevensie from The Chronicles of Narnia. He stomped his feet on the ground with a tad more force than was necessary, which only caused his friends to laugh harder. He sighed and rolled his eyes, albeit fondly.

    ¡°Alright, here we are,¡± Jacob said as they finally drew up to the shop, called Rags and Riches. It was old, having sat at the corner of the street for over fifty years. It was an antique shop in both category and age.

    Xavier cracked his knuckles. ¡°Do you think anything here is actually work anything? We might find some other hidden gem and be able to make some big bucks off of it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here to get a lamp, not make some quick cash,¡± Tiffany told him, punching him in the shoulder again. It was a habit of hers that Xavier was not particularly fond of. ¡°Honestly, Xavier.¡±

    ¡°You punch hard,¡± Xavier mumbled, rubbing his elbow.

    The redhead smiled beatifically, humor flashing in her eyes. ¡°Good. Maybe it¡¯ll make you remember to not be a cheapskate.¡±

    ¡°Aww, come on, Tiff¡­¡±

    Jacob, who had stepped foot on Rags and Riches¡¯s threshold, casually opened the door, and a cute little bell chimed as he did so. The friends ushered themselves inside. It was a quaint place, small and unassuming but at the same time boasting a pretty nice atmosphere. It was well-lit thanks to the windows outside and some LED lights that ran along the ceiling. To their left was a counter with a cashier helping an old married couple with an ancient-looking pot.

    ¡°Not too shabby,¡± Xavier decided as they made their way forward to the rows of shelves.

    Tiffany nodded. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s pretty nice. Alright, now let¡¯s look for that oil lamp. Any old one should do, right, Adam?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, from what I remember of tales of jinns, there¡¯s not really any specific material the lamp needs to be made out of,¡± Adam said.

    ¡°Great. Then let¡¯s get cracking.¡±

    ¡°Roger,¡± the three boys confirmed, and they all split up to look in separate aisles.

    Jacob scanned the shelves of his aisle for something that would work. The store had all sorts of knickknacks, from old books that nobody particularly wanted anymore, to puzzle boxes that had yet to be solved. A display of silver mirrors caught his eye; some ghost types could only be captured by them, and it would be nice to have one handy in case there was some time where he couldn¡¯t get up close enough to pour his exorcising power into it. His old one had broken, too. But no matter; that wasn¡¯t what they were here for.

    Another minute of searching later, Xavier called loudly with the announcement that he¡¯d found one. The other three friends raced out of their respective aisles to join Xavier, who held an oil lamp that gleamed in the light. Despite the fact that the base was rusted and the large, circular handle was cracked, it looked like it had been freshly made. Whoever owned Rags and Riches must have done extensive work to make it look as good as possible. Jacob was impressed.

    ¡°Nice,¡± Adam whistled. ¡°If I was a genie, I wouldn¡¯t mind living in that thing.¡±

    Jacob rolled his eyes. ¡°First of all, this thing is a genie, not a jinn. Second of all, if you were a genie, you¡¯d be stuck in it forever. If anybody rubbed it enough for you to come out, they¡¯d send you back inside the moment they took a single look at you.¡±

    ¡°Ouch, man! That¡¯s cold!¡±

    Tiffany giggled. Her mirth rang like the Freedom Bell. ¡°It¡¯s kind of true.¡±

    ¡°Aw, Tiff¡­¡±

    Xavier shook his head, snorting at his pouting childhood friend. ¡°I guess I¡¯m not the only one they¡¯re ganging up on today.¡±

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get this thing paid for,¡± Jacob said. He sighed; he still wasn¡¯t sure that this plan would work, and he didn¡¯t like making things up as he went. He was no Indiana Jones, that was for sure.

    ¡°I¡¯ll pay for it for you, since you bought me my coffee,¡± Tiffany decided, bouncing to the counter. Jacob, Xavier, and Adam exchanged glances, then raced after her.

    ¡°Hey, wait, you don¡¯t need to¡ª¡± Jacob started to say, but the redhead was already at the counter and whipping out her wallet. They drew up alongside her, panting, and she handed the amused cashier her credit card.

    ¡°We¡¯d like to buy that oil lamp, please,¡± she said, smiling as brightly as a campfire in the late evening.

    The cashier took a look at the oil lamp. ¡°I¡¯ll need to see it, please.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing.¡± Jacob handed her the oil lamp, scowling at Tiffany. ¡°Really, Tiff, this thing has to be at least fifty, sixty dollars. That¡¯s not fair game.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll be twenty bucks,¡± the cashier deadpanned upon scanning the barcode sticker on the bottom of the lamp.

    ¡°¡­Wow, that¡¯s cheap,¡± Jacob mumbled, and Tiffany giggled.

    ¡°There, that¡¯s only a bit more expensive than our coffee was,¡± she said. She accepted her credit card back from the cashier and winked at Jacob, who blushed. ¡°Consider it even.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ that¡¯s, like, seven bucks more, and that¡¯s with my coffee added¡ª"

    Adam shook his head, standing beside his friend. ¡°Man, it¡¯s no use being chivalrous around Tiff,¡± he said, patting Jacob¡¯s shoulder. ¡°She does what she wants.¡±

    He sighed. ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± he mumbled, and Tiffany giggled. Then he looked up at the cashier, who was now grinning with amusement. ¡°Hey, you haven¡¯t happened to have been noticing anything weird around here, have you? Anything out of the ordinary? Maybe someone acting strange?¡±

    The cashier blinked, then tilted her head thoughtfully. ¡°Not sure why you¡¯re asking, but actually, yeah. There¡¯s some new girl working in the Coffee House¡ªyou know, on East Main¡ªand when I got coffee from her, she asked me if I wanted the coffee of my dreams. I told her no, I just wanted a normal black coffee. And then there was my friend¡¯s dog that kept chasing its tail for a straight hour¡­¡±

    Tiffany cooed lovingly at the thought of the cuteness from that, while Adam snickered and Jacob just blinked. ¡°Thanks, miss.¡±

    ¡°Anytime,¡± the cashier said, nodding.

    ¡°That new girl working at the Coffee House sounds suspicious,¡± Xavier said as they left the shop. The bell chimed again as they left, and the warmth of the summer day washed back onto them; the air conditioning in the shop was immediately chased away. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen her before; she must work the late shifts. And I mean, coffee of your dreams? That sounds like some sort of code word or something.¡±

    ¡°And there¡¯s no such coffee on the menu,¡± Tiffany added, raising her finger in the air for emphasis. ¡°Trust me, I know. I¡¯ve had all the coffees.¡±

    ¡°Somehow that¡¯s not surprising,¡± Adam muttered.

    ¡°Adam?¡± The ginger frowned at him. ¡°Shut up.¡±

    Jacob stared at her. ¡°Tiff, one of these days you¡¯re going to become coffee.¡±

    ¡°Not a bad way to go,¡± she mused, rubbing her chin as though she were seriously considering how it might feel to die by turning into coffee. Jacob rolled his eyes while Adam and Xavier just laughed.

    ¡°Alright, you guys, now that we got the lamp, you can go now,¡± Jacob said, clapping his hands on Adam and Xavier¡¯s backs. ¡°Thanks for the help, guys. But it¡¯ll be too dangerous for you from here on out. I¡¯ll stake out the Coffee House, and take care of this jinn when I get the chance to.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± Tiffany said brightly. ¡°Come on, Adam, Xavier. Wanna go bowling?¡±

    ¡°Bowling¡¯s for nerds,¡± Adam pointed out.

    The girl giggled. ¡°Perfect for you, then. Come on!¡± And as Adam and Xavier cried out in shock, she immediately grabbed both of their collars and dragged them down the sidewalk at full running speed. She charged forth like a cheetah, while they dangled behind her like leaves on a tree in a windstorm.

    Jacob snorted. Now they knew what it felt like to be him, sort of. Relaxing a moment in the warm sun shining its life-giving rays upon his dead body, Jacob sighed and twirled the lamp around his finger by its handle. The easy part of the job was done; now it was time for the hard part. He only hoped that this time wouldn¡¯t end in him dying again.

 Chapter 6 - I Dream of Jeannie (Part 3)

    <u>Chapter 6: I Dream of Jeannie (Part 3)</u>

    The city of Normal, Ohio was just as alive at night as it was in the warm daylight. Jacob, perched on the roof of a building across the street from the East Main Street Coffee House, was glad for the throngs of people that walked the streets at night; it would help him to not be spotted later. But for now, he didn¡¯t need them; he doubted that the genie would be able to find him up here and realize he was watching her. Through his dad¡¯s binoculars, he didn¡¯t spot anyone who looked supernatural enter or leave, but he kept a careful eye on every person who did so.

    The air was chilly, and the whizzing of cars down on the streets below droned at the edge of his hearing. Overhead, low clouds encroached on the sky, fluffy and blocking the starless black blanket. Here and there, an annoyed honk split the air in two. Jacob, who had added a grey sweater to his outfit for protection against the night¡¯s chill, laid uncomfortably on the cement roof, face down with his head leaned out over the edge of the building for a clearer look. Normally, his stomach would have felt like sandpaper after keeping this position on a rough surface for over four hours, but not today. The lack of pain was a terrible reminder of just how undead he was, and Jacob swallowed down another round of self-pity; he¡¯d made a stupid mistake, and now he¡¯d just have to after-live with it.

    The Coffee House door opened, and from it stepped a woman much different compared to the rest of the people he¡¯d spied on that evening.

    The woman was tall and humanoid, wearing the black and green polo of the average East Main Street Coffee House employee. However, that was where the human appearances ended. She had entirely indigo skin, dark like the twilit sky that hung precariously in the balance between day and night. Her head was hairless, and her eyes filled with stars¡ªbrilliant, twinkling galaxies and space dust¡ªexcept there were three of them. Each of her extensive hands had long, pointy fingers that appeared sharp as knives. She was exotically beautiful, in the way that an exploding star is beautiful as it showers solar radiation and pure color into the empty nothingness around it.

    And she looked sad, depressingly so, in a way that made Jacob wish he could retreat inside himself and waste away.

    As though she cared not whether a car ran her over, the jinn didn¡¯t even wait for the traffic light to turn red. The indigo woman kept her head down, hugged herself tightly, and raced across the street like a comet hurtling on a suicide mission to the Sun. Chevies, Fords, and Toyotas blared their horns; tires screeched as a dark green Jeep stopped barely a foot from her. The jinn paid them not even so much as a sideways glance.

    Jacob let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding when she crossed the street, perfectly alright. Angry drivers opened their car doors and climbed out to shout at her, but she ducked in with the crowd of street goers on the other sidewalk.

    Jacob backed away from the edge of the building and stuffed his dad¡¯s binoculars in their hard, leather carrier, which he¡¯d strapped to his jean¡¯s belt beneath his sweater. Then he dashed over to the left side of the building, where a fire escape clung to the stone walls. It was a full story below him, but height had never bothered Jacob. He climbed over the lip on the edge, hung by his fingers, and let go.

    The fire escape clanged with his weight as he landed, but he paid this no mind and instead repeated the process upon reaching the bottom. Here, the final staircase had been swung up for protection against thieves, so he was unable to go down, and lowering it would alert authorities that someone had used the fire escape; dropping down to the ground was a necessity. His legs felt no pain from the resulting shock absorption, and he exited the alley he found himself in. Like the jinn before him, he melted into the crowd, becoming just another face of many.

    His hand patted his side; there dangled the oil lamp beside his father¡¯s binoculars, clipped to his belt by its loopy handle. The items were a little conspicuous since they made a hefty bulge in the back of his sweater, but curious people could screw off.

    Swallowing nervously, Jacob¡¯s eyes searched the sea of heads on the sidewalk for his target. There she was, a good many feet ahead of him, her bald, indigo head standing out like a beacon. No one acted strange around her; no one gave her weird, peculiar looks. She was using some sort of glamour or something to pass as human, then. But Jacob wasn¡¯t fooled by any supernatural disguise.

    He didn¡¯t make it obvious that he was tracking her. Jacob moved closer until he was only a couple strides away from her, and then stared at the windows of stores. He pretended that he was window shopping when in reality, he was watching her reflection in the glass. The jinn kept walking with her head down.

    All the way to East Jones Avenue did they walk, and the jinn broke in stride for nothing. She didn¡¯t even slow down when they came to stops at intersections, where it was too dangerous to cross because of moving traffic. Just like when she¡¯d left the Coffee House, the jinn simply continued forward, despite the honking cars whose drivers slammed their feet on their squealing brakes. Jacob gaped, flabbergasted. Did she not care whether she lived or died?

    Then again, she was a jinn, so maybe getting run over by a car simply wouldn¡¯t hurt her. With a confused frown, Jacob renewed his chase.

    It wasn¡¯t until five minutes later that the jinn changed her movement. She turned and shuffled into an alley between two brick buildings, an alley with lots of back doors and garbage cans. Jacob narrowed his eyes and stuck his hand in his pocket, grasping the handle of his trusty dagger. With a self-assured nod, the teen crept forward, peering around the corner of the alley.

    A man stood there at the end of the alley, staring at nothing and making no sign of consciousness. The jinn¡¯s speed increased, and she walked with purpose¡ªwith desperation.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Jacob muttered, and he dashed into the alley. His footsteps echoed against its walls, and the jinn froze and turned. Her eyes opened wide and¡­ terrified? ¡°Oi, Blue Woman Group!¡± Jacob hollored, waving his arms. ¡°Fresh bones! My skeleton tastes gooooood!¡±

    ¡°Why have you come here!?¡± the jinn hissed, regret coating her voice. She glanced at her comatose prey, then back at Jacob, who was now racing towards her. ¡°There was supposed to be only one!¡±

    ¡°Well, bad luck for you then, because I¡¯m player two!¡± Jacob bellowed, and closed his eyes in concentration. Power surged in his right arm. He opened them again to find the jinn baring her teeth apprehensively as she raced toward him, only her teeth were sharp, pointy fangs. They looked like they could do some serious damage if she bit him.

    Jacob tore his dagger from his pocket. The purple glow around his arm transferred to his steel blade. He winced; using his exorcising power felt like he was burning his arm even though it had never done that before. He¡¯d been worried a little that using it while he was a revenant would kill him a second time; it may not have been killing him, but it did feel like his arm was pulling a Wicked Witch and melting. He gritted his teeth and pushed passed the pain; it was worth it to save an innocent life.

    Metal dagger rang against fingers the color of twilight, and Jacob¡¯s weapon was locked in the jinn¡¯s grasp. He narrowed his chocolate orbs. It looked like the monster¡¯s fingers really were knives. This was very worrisome, especially since those sharp appendages on her other hand now reaped the air apart on a path to Jacob¡¯s neck.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    He paled and ducked. The jinn¡¯s fingers razed the space his head had just occupied. At the same time, her other hand¡ªthe one that clenched itself, uncut but steaming hard enough to make her bit her lip¡ªsqueezed. Hard.

    With a crack like a gun backfiring, the blade shattered. It broke into a hundred¡­ no, a thousand razor sharp shards that showered the floor like glass from a broken window. Jacob yelped and backed up, his eyes wide with horror. That dagger had been by his side on all his ghostbusting missions for the past seven years. He¡¯d gotten it as a gift from his grandfather on his tenth birthday.

    It felt like watching a close friend die.

    Jacob, now rather terrified thanks to that impressive display of sheer power, yelped and backed up as the jinn swiped at him again. He seemed to have rather insignificantly more speed than he¡¯d had as a normal human, something he was grateful for. If Jacob had been a second slower, those knife-like fingers would¡¯ve bit into his skin.

    His hand, trembling ever so slightly, felt the oil lamp on his belt. It was his last hope now; he doubted he¡¯d be able to get close enough to land enough punches filled with exorcising power to work. Jacob only hoped Tiffany¡¯s instincts had been right on the money.

    ¡°You¡¯re fast¡­ for a human,¡± the jinn admitted, frowning and tensing her leg muscles. ¡°But slow for a revenant.¡±

    Jacob narrowly avoided becoming a couch in a losing battle with a cat. He dodged and sidestepped clumsily, death missing him by just a hair each time. The jinn just kept getting faster until he was getting nicked on the cheek, the arm, his side. Jacob cursed, wondering how he could win; she was much faster than anything he¡¯d ever faced before, although not nearly as fast as the demon.

    What was it that Agent Mann had said last night? The madder your opponent is, the more mistakes they¡¯ll make? That was worth a shot.

    ¡°Hey, girlie,¡± Jacob said as the jinn¡¯s slicing fingers grazed his skin again. ¡°My pet tortoise is faster than you! I know skeletons that are better fighters! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!¡±

    The jinn bared her fangs again and continued her efforts to turn him into confetti. She didn¡¯t seem much angrier, however. Jacob gulped as he narrowly danced around her attacks. She just kept getting faster! Jacob had long since shut off his power, since it was using too much of his concentration to keep up, and it hurt his arm too badly, anyway.

    Then the woman with the starry eyes chopped a little too fast for him to avoid. Her fingers raked through the air, and instinctively, Jacob raised his right arm and blocked her hand.

    Pain flared in his arm, pain like the jinn¡¯s fingers were fire eating away at a log in a campfire. He¡¯d never felt this kind of utter agony in his life. The only time that had come close had been back in his freshman year of high school, when he¡¯d broken his arm and one leg during a job concerning a poltergeist. Even the demon¡¯s trident that had skewered him last night hadn¡¯t hurt like this; he¡¯d died too quickly to feel any pain.

    ¡°YAAAARGH!¡± he howled, his voice bouncing off the alley.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± the jinn said sadly, her three eyes closing. ¡°But¡­ I¡¯m so hungry¡­¡± She reached back with her free hand and prepared to stab forward. Then her words registered in Jacob¡¯s head, through the feeling of acid in his arm. His eyes widened, and he made several connections all at once.

    How sad she¡¯d looked, coming out of the Coffee House¡­ the way she¡¯d simply walked carelessly across moving traffic¡­ how panicked she¡¯d been about Jacob¡¯s arrival. He remembered what Adam had said about jinn without lamps feeding on human bones. A rush of sadness and understanding coursed through the creeks and rivers of his blood vessels, which were now filled with ectoplasm. His arm glowed in its royal purple light, and lodged inside it, the jinn¡¯s fingers smoked.

    She hissed in pain and ripped her knife-like fingers from Jacob¡¯s right arm. They were charred as if they¡¯d been stuck in a bonfire. Black ectoplasm now flowed freely from Jacob¡¯s newest wound, but even as he groaned and cursed, upon shutting off his power again, he found that the agony from being stabbed like that was already starting to fade. He panted and clasped his hand around the oil lamp¡¯s clip, beneath his grey coat.

    ¡°You never wanted to kill those five other people, didn¡¯t you?¡± he declared, and the jinn backed up.

    Her eyes reflected the cosmos as they widened. ¡°If you already know that much, then why are you hunting me, user of the Right Hand of God?¡±

    Jacob blinked. Right Hand of God? he thought, looking down at his right arm. So that¡¯s what this power is called? Come to think of it, I think I heard McArthur¡¯s ghost and Agent Mann mention that. I¡¯ll have to ask Mann about that.

    ¡°I only just figured it out now,¡± he admitted sheepishly. ¡°But tell me, if you don¡¯t want to kill, why are you doing that?¡±

    ¡°Why would you care!?¡± the jinn cried, and she swiped at Jacob again. This time, though, the attack was slow enough to fully dodge. He leaped away and skidded to a stop.

    ¡°Because I might be able to help!¡± Jacob said, and he smiled to show he truly meant it.

    She looked like she was going to attack again, but hesitated. ¡°Why would you wish to help me?¡± she asked tiredly.

    ¡°Because I want the pointless deaths in this town to stop. I want everyone to be able to live peacefully, and if I can do this peacefully then that¡¯s even better.¡± He hesitated and sighed. ¡°And honestly¡­ I think I can kind of understand you. I just died myself last night, and apparently almost became wrapped in vengeance¡­ so I guess I¡¯m feeling a little forgiving tonight. What¡¯s your story?¡±

    The jinn looked at him, studying him carefully. Then she deflated and a tear slipped out of her eye. ¡°My past master¡­¡± she began, choking up, ¡°wasn¡¯t a very good man. Not to me, at least. When he bought my lamp from an auction in Colorado and accidentally rubbed it three times, I came out, but he was so terrified that he broke it. My lamp, my home. He ran and ran, and I was left all alone, wandering the country, weak and a mere shell of the jinn I was before. I had to rely on human bones to keep going¡­ I was afraid of death.¡±

    Jacob swallowed. He understood; when he¡¯d finally realized that Agent Mann was right and he was dead, he¡¯d been terrified. He¡¯d been beside himself with worry and fear about what he was going to do, what was going to happen to him.

    ¡°I can give it all back to you,¡± Jacob promised, unclipping the oil lamp and bringing it out from under his coat. ¡°I can give you a new home, so you don¡¯t have to kill anymore.¡±

    The jinn stared. ¡°A-Are you sure? After everything I¡¯ve done, I¡­ I d-don¡¯t deserve to live¡­¡±

    ¡°Everyone deserves to live except the evil bastards who kill for the sake of killing,¡± he told her. He offered the oil lamp out and shook it. ¡°Do you want to not have to kill or not?¡±

    She looked down at the lamp, then up at Jacob. She hesitated a moment more. Then the jinn smiled. ¡°Thank you, revenant,¡± she said, her tears flowing freely. ¡°It¡¯s been months since I¡¯ve had a proper home. My name is Hilaal. If you are ever in need of a wish, please rub the lamp three times, and I will be there. You need not worry about any problems with the law, for my job at the East Main Street Coffee House was nothing but a glamour, and the other employees as well as anyone else who interacted with me will soon forget about my having worked there; any documentation of my presence will also be erased.¡±

    Jacob shifted awkwardly. There it was again¡ªthat being thanked thing again. It gave him a lump in his throat that he wasn¡¯t sure if it was a good feeling.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± he muttered, and Hilaal the Jinn reached out and touched the oil lamp.

    There was a rush of air like a tornado getting sucked down a drain, and Hilaal spun and grew smaller. She became smaller and smaller, a shrinking indigo whirlwind, until finally all of her was sucked through the spout of the oil lamp. The whooshing died down, leaving only the sound of the pedestrians and cars outside the alley way. Far at the end, the man who¡¯d been about to be the jinn¡¯s next unfortunate victim blinked, and looked around.

    ¡°W-What¡­?¡± he muttered, scratching his head in confusion. ¡°Where am I? Why am I in this alley?¡± He looked up it and saw Jacob standing there with an oil lamp in one hand, and the hilt of a shattered knife in the other. He backed up against the back of the alley in terror. ¡°A g-gangster! Please don¡¯t hurt me, I have a w-wife and k-kids!¡±

    Jacob¡¯s fingers clenched around the hilt of his dagger. He hated being confused for a gangster on these jobs, simply because he was a black man living in the city, carrying a dagger at night. ¡°Relax, I won¡¯t hurt you,¡± he said soothingly, and turned to walk away. The poor guy was left exceedingly confused.

    The teen frowned and considered the day¡¯s events.

    His brother Daniel didn¡¯t care that he was a revenant. Neither did his friends. He¡¯d almost died at the hands of that jinn, and probably would¡¯ve had he not offered to help her.

    Jacob sighed and ran his hands through his dark hair.

    He supposed it was time to call Agent Mann.

 Chapter 7 - Men in Black

    <u>Chapter 7 ¨C Men in Black</u>

    The following morning, Mr. Davidson was quite pleased to hear that Jacob would be going out early again. He was less pleased when Daniel, who was now a registered candidate for Normal¡¯s special mayoral election, told him he was going out to make campaign posters and signs with an old college buddy. Mr. Davidson did not stop the man, however, and so his eldest son again accompanied his youngest down the elevator, although this time to the complex¡¯s parking floors. Jacob and Daniel walked to where the former¡¯s car was supposed to be parked, only to find it wasn¡¯t there.

    Jacob cursed. ¡°I forgot that I left it back at McArthur Mansion. That¡¯s a long way out of my way; it¡¯s not even in the damn devil¡¯s trap.¡±

    Daniel, now dressed in a red striped American Eagle shirt and khakis, his ponytail laid straight down his back, shrugged. ¡°You want me to bring it back here?¡± he offered. ¡°I can just send ol¡¯ Barry a text saying I¡¯m running an errand for ya real quick. He¡¯s cool; he¡¯ll understand. Then you can go get started on heading to your meeting place in the meantime.¡±

    That was a huge help. ¡°Thanks, Daniel,¡± Jacob said sincerely. His older brother clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning widely.

    ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it, my man.¡±

    Daniel went to grab a bike so he could get to McArthur Mansion as quickly as possible without leaving another vehicle behind, and Jacob left for Normal City Park. It was a rather conspicuous place for a skeleton to be walking and training a sort-of-living corpse in the supernatural, but Agent Mann had assured him over the phone the previous night that glamours would stop the public from seeing Mann for who he really was.

    ¡°I¡¯ll look like a kindly, handsome coach to any curious eyes,¡± he¡¯d said in that smooth British accent of his. ¡°Probably.¡±

    ¡°Probably?¡± Jacob had been skeptical.

    ¡°Well, you can never be too safe around the weaker magics, especially ones that you didn¡¯t cast yourself. And since I unfortunately was no Harry Potter in life, I have to get rents from the resident witch in the agency. She is not my biggest fan. Also, dogs.¡±

    He¡¯d added that last part so quickly, Jacob had almost missed it. ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°Dogs are not confused by any glamours, and love bones,¡± he¡¯d explained. The shudder in his voice had been practically audible. ¡°This park will be crawling with them. Honestly, the only reason I¡¯m going to be training you there is because it¡¯s the only open space in the devil¡¯s trap big enough to do it properly.¡±

    Jacob still snickered at the memory of their conversation even now, as he dashed down cement sidewalks bathed in sunlight. It was unusually effortless to do so; he didn¡¯t even work up a sweat. He was amazed by how much his stamina had increased now that his heart couldn¡¯t threaten to beat out of his chest from the exertion. He was also running much faster than the other runners on the sidewalk. The teen revenant wondered if, one day, he could match the speeds of the cars beside him.

    As Jacob ran beside the road that made up the top of the devil¡¯s trap¡¯s outer circle, the rising sun felt comforting and warm against the back of his neck. He breathed in the cool, humid air lifting off of the Red River happily. When he had reached the y-axis of the road, where the Lesser Erie River split into the Red and Beaver, he turned right onto Jones Avenue¡ªwhich, like the Lesser Erie above it, split into East and West Jones Avenues. These roads completed the upper point of the star in the devil¡¯s trap, and helped create three sectors of the city. Jacob, however, only cared about the sector laying between both Avenues, where Normal City Park could be found.

    Here he arrived five minutes later, clocking in the total time of his trip at around twenty minutes. Still breathing as easily as if he¡¯d never ran at all, Jacob entered the dirt path that wound over a wooden archway. The words NORMAL CITY PARK stared down at him, written in the color of chalkboards. Thick, short bushes hugged the path, and further down, some kids cheerfully jumped back and forth over them while their mother watched with a disapproving frown. Here and there, large oak trees, their many branches reaching out like long and spindly fingers, towered over impressively green grass¡ªkings usurped from their natural thrones by skyscrapers that encroached upon the park¡¯s contours.

    Pedestrians were everywhere. Bikers tore down the paths laid throughout the expansive, diamond-shaped preserve. Families sat at wooden picnic tables, eating sandwiches; kids clambered as high as they could up trees; lovers sat on benches facing the fishing and swimming pond. Jacob¡¯s eyes ignored any normal humans¡ªhe only wanted to see a Mann about a skeleton.

    ¡°Looking for someone?¡± a voice said from behind him, and Jacob yelped and turned on a dime. Agent Skul Mann¡¯s grinning skull was there, his clothes the same as when Jacob had last seen him.

    ¡°Was that really necessary?¡± Jacob grumbled over the skeleton¡¯s chuckles.

    ¡°No,¡± Mann admitted, ¡°but I¡¯m a jerk with teleportation. Therefore, your argument is invalid.¡±

    ¡°¡­Fair point.¡±

    ¡°I am a master at the pranking business, in case you were wondering.¡±

    Jacob wasn¡¯t.

    As a group of bikers raced by and rang bells on the front of their handles, Agent Mann clapped, grinning even wider. The sound was rather rattley thanks to his hands being nothing but bones. ¡°Right then. Top of the morning to you, my dear boy. I¡¯ve already contacted the FBI and told them I¡¯ll be training you as my assistant, as per your decision last night. I asked for permission to stay here in Normal when not on missions in the meantime, and the higher ups agreed, so! You and I should have plenty of time to get started.¡±

    He paused and looked at the slightly cloudy sky, as though daring it to argue. Jacob rose an eyebrow. A second later, though, Mann¡¯s eyeless gaze fell back down to him.

    ¡°Murphy seems to be keeping himself in check today,¡± the other revenant said brightly. ¡°Splendid!¡±

    Jacob blinked. ¡°Er¡­ Murphy?¡±

    ¡°Murphy¡¯s Law, my dear boy,¡± Agent Mann explained. ¡°Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, especially when you tempt fate. That¡­ that last part isn¡¯t actually in the Law, it¡¯s just something I¡¯ve noticed on my job.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± said Jacob. ¡°So, yesterday morning, you mentioned me having new powers as a revenant. Can you fully explain this, please?¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± The fleshless revenant nodded and started walking down the path. Jacob followed at his side. ¡°The main powers we revenants have,¡± Mann said, ¡°are increased strength, speed, and healing.¡± Discreetly, Jacob looked down at his right arm and rolled his blue shirt¡¯s long sleeve up. The deep cut from his fight with the jinn the previous night was almost fully closed already, and had scabbed over very soon after he¡¯d left the alley.

    Jacob wasn¡¯t quite sure how any of this was possible since he didn¡¯t have a beating heart to pump his blood¡ªor rather, ectoplasm¡ªbut he decided not to question it.

    He rolled his sleeve back down before Mann could notice. ¡°Do we have other powers?¡± he asked. ¡°You said those are our main ones.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we do. Just one, though, and you already know about it¡ªwe can tap into our soul¡¯s power to teleport. That takes years for even the best non-vengeful revenants to learn, though, so for now we¡¯ll be working on your speed, strength, and overall offensive skills.¡± Agent Mann paused. ¡°Well, you in particular also have the power known as the Right Hand of God, due to the fact that it can exorcise any supernatural beings but manifests in the right hand.¡±

    He was silent for a few moments. Then Jacob looked up at his new coach with a frown. ¡°So, then do other people also have this Right Hand of God?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called the ¡®Right Hand¡¯ for short,¡± Mann said, ¡°but yes, there are a very small amount of people who do use it. A mere seven people are born in each generation able to wield it. Currently, there are sixteen known wielders alive, including you. There may be others, but they just haven¡¯t been found yet.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Jacob said, studying his powerful hand, ¡°thanks for letting me know.¡±

    ¡°You may have to watch your back, Jacob. Some of these Right Hands are monster hunters, and don¡¯t tend to ask before exorcising. If they find out about you, you may be in serious danger.¡±

    He hadn¡¯t even considered that. Jacob shivered at the thought that he might now be hunted just as he¡¯d hunted ghosts for these past seven years. Suddenly the warm morning didn¡¯t seem so warm. The friendly people visiting the park seemed like any of them could be stalkers, carefully watching Jacob for the right time to strike. Then he blinked as a thought occurred to him¡ªhe already knew that death didn¡¯t hurt, that one second you were alive and the next you simply weren¡¯t.

    What did he have to be afraid?

    As quickly as the sunny summer day had turned cold and foreboding, and the friendly people into possibly conniving stalker/murderers, everything returned to normal in Jacob¡¯s mind¡¯s eye. He stretched and gave his new coach a thumbs-up.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful,¡± he promised.

    Agent Mann took a deep breath. ¡°You¡¯d better,¡± he said quietly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get your bones all rattled,¡± Jacob said.

    ¡°I can¡¯t help it; without muscle, they rattle with each step.¡±

    The two chuckled as they walked. Then they reached a clearing in the bushes and the skeleton revenant turned off onto the grass. A dog in the distance¡ªa little white dog with long, fluffy hair¡ªhappened to glance at Agent Mann and started barking and pulling on its leash. Its owner struggled to keep it from dashing off. Jacob shook his head, amused.

    ¡°You¡¯re great with dogs, Agent Mann,¡± he said, and the skeleton groaned. His pristine, white skull went whiter somehow.

    ¡°I was really, really hoping this wouldn¡¯t happen,¡± he moaned in such a terrified manner that Jacob exploded into snickers.

    They ignored the furiously yipping dog as best they could, and made their way to the welcoming shade cast by the leaves of one of the park¡¯s oaken kings. There, they rested for a moment, and then Agent Mann reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded-up sheet of computer paper. He unfolded it, and Jacob saw that, on it, a thick, black line of ink separated two columns of text. The column on the left was in red, and at the top, ¡°STRENGTH¡± had been written in large and bold letters. Likewise, the right side was labeled ¡°SPEED¡± in blue.

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to be training up my Right Hand?¡± Jacob questioned.

    ¡°No, we¡¯re not,¡± Mann confirmed. ¡°I don¡¯t use the power myself and so have no idea how to train people to use it. Also, without a stronger body and soul, your own power could end up harming you now that you¡¯re supernatural. I want you to use it as little as possible from here on out¡ªfor most supernatural creatures, there are other ways to stop them.¡±

    Jacob remembered how using it last night had made his arm feel like it was on fire. ¡°Alright, fair enough.¡±

    Mann handed Jacob the white paper. ¡°Now then,¡± he said as Jacob took it, ¡°this will be your training regime for the next week or so. At the end of the seven days, we¡¯ll start doing some practice bouts. In the meantime, I¡¯ll be setting things up for you with the Supernatural Relations department. Sound good to you?¡±

    The teen nodded and cracked his knuckles. ¡°Let¡¯s do this!¡± Jacob exclaimed, bouncing from foot to foot.

    ¡°I like your motivation, my boy! Start with the first item under STRENGTH.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡±

    If people thought it was weird that (from their point of view, anyway) a man dressed like he¡¯d walked out of a British black and white film rode on the shoulders of a black teen while said teen repeatedly punched an oak tree, nobody said anything about it.

    ~o~

    JUST OUTSIDE SAN FRANCISCO

    Dead bodies, ectoplasm leaking from their decapitated necks, littered the warehouse on the hill beyond the many multicolored houses and other buildings of San Francisco. A choking silence hung in the air from the gallows of Death, mixing with the dust that kicked up off the cold floor. Crates and rusted machinery hid in the dark shadows from the single figure who strode near the inside of the building¡¯s walls. The figure was swathed in white robes that reached down to his sandaled feet, and in his hands, he clenched a silver sword that¡ªlike his right arm¡ªglowed with red light. Green adorned the shoulders of his robes, green like the fronds of palm trees.

    His breathing was slow and steady; his footsteps were silent and regal.

    He passed by another row of crates, and a woman¡¯s quiet sobs reached his ears. The towering man paused and backed up, peering through the darkness by the light of his right hand.

    There, concealed between a small crack in the row, was a woman, the only other living thing still left alive in this abandoned self-storage. She cried and cowered in the darkness. She wore grimey clothes, wrinkled and stained black. Her mouth was slightly open, and her teeth long and pointy, as though designed for piercing flesh. Her skin was unnaturally pale.

    The man grunted and lifted up his sword. He stalked forward, scoffing.

    His footsteps echoed now, and the woman glanced up fearfully. Her eyes fell upon the man and she pressed herself against the crate behind her. Her breathing picked up and staggered; her hands trembled.

    ¡°You killed them,¡± she sobbed hatefully, baring her teeth. ¡°A-All of them. Even the babies! How c-could you do that!?¡±

    ¡°How?¡± The man drew up to her and gripped his sword tighter, holding it up with just his right hand. His face was old and set; he had multiple chins, and his nose sloped sharply down like a skating pipe. Dark but greying hair sat on his head in curls. ¡°It¡¯s simple. You¡¯re bloodsuckers¡ªvampires that live for human blood and blood alone. My people will never be safe as long as your kind are here.¡±

    ¡°We swore off human blood years ago,¡± the vampire hissed, shrinking against the crate. ¡°We haven¡¯t touched the damned stuff in over a decade!¡±

    ¡°It always starts the same,¡± the monster hunter replied coldly. ¡°The farmers find their cattle and sheep dead, drained of all their blood. Then more. And then the children start to disappear.¡±

    The woman swallowed dry air, then stopped shaking and glared up at him.

    ¡°You¡¯re no man, Father Adam. You¡¯re more of a monster than I am.¡±

    Father Adam paused and considered her words. ¡°No,¡± he told her at last. ¡°I am a priest, and you are an abomination.¡±

    Then he swiped, and in one clean motion, it rolled away into the shadows, disappearing behind more crates. Black liquid oozed thickly from the stump of her neck.

    Father Adam scoffed again, reached underneath his robes, and took out a handkerchief. He used it to wipe his sword clean of the vampire¡¯s vile ¡®blood.¡¯

    ¡°You have no right to call anyone a monster,¡± he spat, and turned to dispose of the vampire nest¡¯s bodies in the sunlight outside.

    ~o~

    MCARTHUR MANSION

    Spokes whirred and pieces of dirt leaped away from quickly pedaling tires. Daniel Davidson¡¯s ponytail bounced in the wind as he powered up the dirt path that led to the site of his little brother¡¯s death, and subsequent transformation into a revenant. He still could hardly believe that whole series of events, but Jacob rarely lied to him and so he had no reason to doubt the poor kid.

    Finally, he reached the top of the hill and braked. He looked up at the huge mansion in front of him and stared.

    ¡°It¡¯s straight out of a shitty horror film,¡± Daniel muttered. He swung himself off the bike, landing lightly on the dirt path. Jacob¡¯s car sat several feet away, facing the dilapidated walls and boarded-up windows of the mansion. He laid his bike down gently on the path and crossed onto yellow, half-dead grass.

    Daniel drew up to the green Ford and patted its trunk. ¡°Alright, baby, let¡¯s get you home,¡± he said, and made his way around to the driver¡¯s door. Jacob had left it unlocked with the keys still inside, so it was a simple matter of opening the door and climbing inside. He grabbed the key ring off the seat, sat down, closed the door, fastened his seat belt, and made to stick the key in the ignition, but an unfamiliar voice suddenly came from the backseat.

    ¡°Daniel Davidson,¡± said someone amusedly in a heavy Irish accent, ¡°didn¡¯t you forget your bike?¡±

    Daniel jumped and cursed, then turned around in his seat quickly. A man with a purple shirt and a khaki suit and pants sat in the backseat. His face was round and pudgy, a friendly grin turning up his red lips. But, strangely, his eyes were pure black.

    Daniels¡¯s own brown orbs shot open, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out his conceal-and-carry pistol. He pointed it at the black-eyed intruder¡¯s forehead and snarled, ¡°Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing in my brother¡¯s car?¡±

    ¡°Who the hell,¡± the mysterious man mused, his smile not fading in the slightest. ¡°Funny choice of words. Do not worry; I do not wish harm on you. I simply thought you might like to, ah, make a deal.¡±

    ¡°A deal?¡± Daniel frowned. He didn¡¯t lower his gun, but instead released the safety; something about the intruder gave him the heebie-jeebies. ¡°Who are you? How did you know my name?¡±

    The man snorted in amusement. ¡°My name does not matter. You wouldn¡¯t be able to pronounce it even if I told you, regardless. No, what does matter is that left hand of yours.¡±

    ¡°My¡­ left hand?¡±

    ¡°Asking questions with other questions¡­¡± The man sighed and rolled his eyes to the heavens. ¡°Just like a law student to do that. Look at your left hand, Daniel.¡±

    On reflex, the twenty-seven-year-old did so.

    And stared.

    For some strange reason, his left hand and arm glowed with blue light, but not the periwinkle that Jacob always said ghosts were made of. No, this shade was an evil, deep indigo, so dark it was practically black. Daniel yelped and shook his hand desperately, but the light did not fade. He gulped and glared at the smartly dressed man, whose pudgy face turned up a little with a new smirk.

    ¡°What the hell did you do to me!?¡± Daniel shouted, furious now.

    The man again seemed more amused than anything. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything to you, Daniel Davidson. You¡¯ve always had the Left Hand of Lucifer, from the moment of your birth¡ªit¡¯s only been awakened thanks to my presence. And you see, it is exactly why I am here talking to you.¡± He considered that statement. ¡°Well, I was actually waiting for your little brother to return after he beat up one of my squadron members to congratulate him for it, but it is a happy accident that you came instead. That left hand of yours can make or break your election to town mayor, Daniel, and I can help with that¡­ if you only accept my little deal.¡±

    Daniel narrowed his eyes. He had no idea what was going on, but that stuff about Jacob beating up one of his squadron members¡­ ¡°You¡¯re a demon,¡± he spat. ¡°How about instead, you fuck off and stay the hell away from my goddamn family!¡±

    His skin crawling with fear and anger, he pressed the pistol¡¯s trigger.

    If clapping in a car hurt one¡¯s ears, a gunshot was deafening. The eldest Davidson brother¡¯s ears rang, and he flinched. When he looked back at the demon, he was shocked to see it had vanished¡ªgone from the backseat. His bullet hadn¡¯t even connected, but was instead lodged in a deep hole in the headrest.

    ¡°Shooting people is quite rude, you know,¡± the demon¡¯s voice said in his ear, and David quickly turned to see it crouched over, sitting on the Ford¡¯s dash and smirking even wider. ¡°Dangerous, even. Do that to someone normal, and you might not like the consequences.¡±

    ¡°What do you want with me!?¡± he demanded, training his gun on the intruder again.

    It chuckled. ¡°Now we¡¯re asking the right questions. I want to train you to help you control your power and grow. In return, I¡¯d like for you to perform some¡­ errands for me. Whaddya say, friend? Want to win?¡±

    Daniel loaded another bullet into his pistol and aimed between its black eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll win on my own terms, demon bastard. Get the fuck out of my brother¡¯s car.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright, no need to get your panties in a bundle,¡± the demon soothed, chuckling. It reached into its shirt¡¯s chest pocket and took out some items. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ crushed baby¡¯s skull?¡± It withdrew a corked vial filled with white dust. ¡°Check. Virgin¡¯s blood?¡± It withdrew another vial, this time filled with a red liquid that definitely looked like blood. ¡°Pfft. Clich¨¦, but check. Coconut shells?¡± It withdrew the last item¡ªa bag filled with hard pieces of coconut shell. It opened the bag and popped one piece in its mouth. ¡°Delicious; check.¡±

    ¡°Get the fuck out,¡± Daniel said again, testing the trigger.

    The demon rolled its eyes. ¡°I¡¯m getting there, I¡¯m getting there.¡± And then Daniel¡¯s jaw slackened; after it produced a bowl from nowhere and smashed the vials, their contents flowing into the bowl and congealing, a wall of pure darkness opened up behind it. The undulating shadows pulled the demon in, and it decided to give Daniel some parting advice.

    ¡°If you¡¯re ever losing the election and feel like you might need a little help, just shout and I¡¯ll be there,¡± it promised, grinning a Cheshire grin. ¡°Ain¡¯t it great to know somebody¡¯s got your back? Oh, and by the way, tell your brother about any of this, and I will rip out your carotid and eat it for breakfast. Toodles!¡±

    The demon sank fully into the wall of shadows and darkness. The wall dissipated, and when it had gone, nothing more of the khaki-clad demon remained. Daniel swallowed dryly, then unbuckled and hurried out of the car. He raced to his bike and strapped it on the two bars on the Ford¡¯s roof, then climbed back into the driver¡¯s seat, buckled up again, and stabbed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life and Daniel performed a very fast three-point turn. He didn¡¯t care how many speed limits he broke¡ªDaniel never wanted to see this place again, and so with a terrible squealing of tires, he raced off down the hill.

    His left hand stopped glowing.

 Chapter 8 - The X Files

    <u>Chapter 8 ¨C The X Files</u>

    A week passed quietly in the town of Normal, Ohio. There were no supernatural deaths, no rumors of ghosts haunting houses. Jacob enjoyed the peace by hanging out with Adam, Xavier, and Tiffany at the Coffee House in the mornings. They talked about the upcoming senior year of high school, and what kinds of plans they had; they talked about Half-and-Half, and where Adam and Xavier might have their next gig; they talked about the special mayoral election and who had the best chances. All three of his friends were already eighteen and planned to vote for Daniel. Jacob also, of course, planned to vote for his older brother, who had been surprisingly quiet and reserved the past week; but he didn¡¯t turn eighteen until October 30<sup>th</sup>, the day before the special election.

    From eleven thirty in the morning clear until eight in the evening, Jacob would train up his extra strength and speed. They fell into a pattern of strength training for the mornings/early afternoons, then a half-hour break for lunch and finally practicing speed in the evenings. Agent Mann, for all his snark and occasional pranking, was actually a very good coach¡ªso good that Jacob wasn¡¯t sure that this was the skeleton¡¯s first time doing so. Upon asking whether Mann had tried any other assistants before, the older revenant quickly dodged the question.

    ¡°That¡¯s unimportant,¡± Mann said. ¡°Now, try and take this pen from me, and if you don¡¯t manage it in under an hour, that¡¯s two hundred more push-ups you owe me¡­ using nothing but your pinky.¡±

    ¡°Mannage it,¡± Jacob said, snorting. ¡°Good one.¡±

    The skeleton paused, then grinned. ¡°Hey, that was a pretty good¡ªOI!¡±

    While he¡¯d been distracted by his own accidental cleverness, Jacob had dashed forward and ripped the pen in question from Agent Mann¡¯s finger bones. Smirking, he backpedaled and tossed it up in the air. He let it twirl twice, and then caught it. Agent Mann pouted.

    ¡°Now that was just impertinent,¡± he grumbled.

    ¡°Impertinence is in my job description,¡± Jacob returned.

    ¡°Touch¨¦,¡± said Agent Mann. ¡°Now give me back that pen and let¡¯s do this the right way.¡±

    ¡°Yes, mother.¡±

    It was on the seventh morning that things again took a supernatural turn¡ªor at least, more supernatural than they already were. Jacob woke up yawning, shoved off his covers, and slammed his alarm. The clock crunched, and Jacob facepalmed; that was the third one this week. He really needed to get used to being a knock-off DC superhero, as Xavier liked to put it. Groaning, Jacob rolled out of bed, staggered to his closet, slid the door open, and nearly had a heart attack (despite not having a beating heart to attack him).

    ¡°Do you ever get that feeling of d¨¦j¨¤ vu?¡± he quipped in a high-pitched, girly tone, once he¡¯d calmed down from the shock of seeing a grinning skull in front of his long sleeves.

    ¡°You are terrible at accents,¡± Agent Mann informed him, climbing out of Jacob¡¯s closet, ¡°and especially British ones. Please never do them again.¡±

    Jacob rolled his eyes and sat on his desk¡¯s swivel chair. ¡°You know, most people only come out of the closet once.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, most people also are not skeletons.¡±

    ¡°¡­Fair point.¡±

    ¡°Now, you may be wondering why I am here,¡± the revenant said with a roll of his own eyes, to which Jacob muttered something about obvious questions being obvious. ¡°The answer to that is, frankly, aliens.¡±

    ¡°Er¡­¡± Jacob gaped. ¡°Come again?¡±

    ¡°Aliens. Little green men. Possibly from Mars. Probably like to get the landmarks.¡± Jacob stared blankly, and Agent Mann frowned. ¡°Oh, come on, you did see Independence Day: Resurgence, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°You mean the Star Wars rip off?¡± Jacob snorted. ¡°No thank you. Adam and Xavier saw it in theaters and told me it wasn¡¯t worth the extra pricey popcorn.¡±

    ¡°Well, it was rather similar to Star Wars,¡± Mann admitted under his breath, then sighed and placed his hands on his waist. ¡°That¡¯s not the point. In a nearby town, there have been UFO sightings, three yesterday and one a few hours ago. Supernatural Relations apparently has enough reason to believe these incidents are connected and the sightings may be accurate, and have asked you and me to get to the bottom of this since we¡¯re closest.¡±

    Jacob blinked. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned. The X Files really was right. Sorry, Scully, but I¡¯ll have to invite my friends Adam Jones and Xavier Fairway. They really are interested in the extraterrestrial and might legit kill me if I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a no-go,¡± Mann told him. ¡°This is a Skul and Jacob adventure only. If the higher-ups find out I¡¯ve brought other people on the job, they will not like it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised what Adam could do with a computer,¡± Jacob told him. ¡°And Xavier¡¯s memory is better than anyone I¡¯ve ever heard of.¡±

    Agent Mann studied him, then sighed again. ¡°Alright, I don¡¯t bloody like this, but alright. Because I like you, your friends can come. Just make sure they dress up in suits and ties and look like they¡¯re interns, or something.¡±

    When Jacob called them, Adam and Xavier were ecstatic. They got permission from their parents, saying that they¡¯d just be hanging out with Jacob all day, and he picked them up before heading off.

    Jacob drove everyone since Agent Mann didn¡¯t own a car (with his teleportation, he himself usually had no need for one). The main reason they drove at all was to have some back up transportation over the next couple days, in case the job went on longer than expected and Agent Mann was off on his own for some reason. As they sped down the road to their next destination¡ªa quaint town named Beaver Falls¡ªneither of Jacob¡¯s friends stopped thanking him or telling him about all the possibilities of what kinds of gadgets the aliens might have. Agent Mann sat with crossed arms in the passenger seat. The more Adam and Xavier fanboyed over the situation, the more the skeleton¡¯s eye twitched and he shifted around in his seat; he purposefully stared out the window at the endless fields of grain, wheat, and corn (mostly corn).

    His patience wore thin after around fifteen minutes.

    ¡°Can you STOP?¡± Mann exploded at last, throwing his bony hands up in the air. ¡°This job isn¡¯t some fantastical adventure to prove that the government conspires; it¡¯s a special investigation into circumstances that have never before been explored. We have yet to make direct contact with the extraterrestrial on a governmental scale, so depending on how this turns out, if the UFO sightings are legit and tied with the recent disappearances, this job could either help further our race or doom humanity.¡±

    Adam and Xavier fell silent, their mouths hanging open. Jacob¡¯s skin suddenly felt rather itchy.

    ¡°Um¡­ sorry,¡± Adam said quietly, fiddling about with his hands. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize this was that big of a deal.¡±

    Xavier squirmed against his seatbelt. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sorry, too,¡± he said.

    Agent Mann took a deep breath and then sighed and shook his head. ¡°No, I must apologize as well. I didn¡¯t mean to tear into you two like that. I¡¯m afraid the stress of this mission was getting on my nerves.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re a skeleton,¡± Jacob pointed out. ¡°You don¡¯t have any nerves for the stress to get on.¡±

    The passengers blinked and paused. Then Xavier cracked a grin and Agent Mann snickered once. Finally, the dam broke and the awkward, tense silence was replaced with laughter. The rest of the ride was much more carefree and easygoing, although the weight of the job definitely put a noticeable damper on Adam and Xavier. The trip lasted around another ten minutes, and then they arrived at Beaver Falls.

    Jacob, Adam, and Xavier had all been to Beaver Falls before, mostly for football and baseball games. Beaver High and Normal High had a long rivalry, and their students constantly competed in just about every major high school sport. Beaver Falls was a rather small town, though, with a population of around fifteen thousand. It mainly consisted of brick and plaster houses, several fast food joints, one or two great restaurants, and a downtown municipal/shopping district. There was also a large golf course on the outskirts of town, where Mr. Davidson liked to spend a considerable amount of time when he wasn¡¯t working, moping, or drinking his past away.

    ¡°I¡¯m almost getting nostalgic,¡± Xavier said wistfully, staring out the window as they entered town.

    Agent Mann, curious, looked over his shoulder towards the black eighteen-year-old. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±

    Jacob passed a particularly slow driver. ¡°Xavier used to live here in Beaver Falls,¡± he explained. ¡°His family moved to Normal when he was four. He still has a lot of memories of their old place, though, thanks to his photographic memory.¡±

    Xavier nodded and tapped his head. ¡°Everything I¡¯ve seen since I was around three is all stored up in here. I can just pull out memories like computer files.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Mann said thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s quite useful, especially on this type of job.¡±

    Xavier preened, and Adam rolled his eyes.

    ¡°So, where¡¯s our first stop?¡± Jacob asked as they rumbled over some train tracks. The poor old Ford wheezed as it bounced over the steel girders.

    Agent Mann reached into his pocket, pulled out a small notebook, and turned several pages. ¡°21059 Genesis Road,¡± he read, and Xavier choked in surprise. The skeleton stared. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I was just surprised,¡± Xavier coughed. ¡°That¡¯s my old address.¡±

    Jacob raised an eyebrow. ¡°Now, isn¡¯t that just a clich¨¦,¡± he stated, and promptly followed the directions Xavier giving. As they passed by Beaver High, the teen flipped it off and catcalled. His ex-girlfriend had left him for a Beaver High senior, so he hated the school even more than some of Normal High¡¯s football jocks. Adam, amused by his best friend¡¯s antics, shook his head and grinned.

    ¡°You are so immature sometimes,¡± he teased. Xavier sighed.

    ¡°Adam. Shut up.¡±

    At last, they arrived at their destination¡ªAdam¡¯s old home, and the current home of a Mr. Law, a witness to one of the disappearances. It was a short, stout little one-story with soft yellow walls and a tiled roof. Longer than it was wide, it had flower pots with blooming lilies and a lawn that wrapped around the whole house. A white picket fence protected it from its neighbors¡¯ dogs, and an asphalt driveway ran up to an attached garage. Jacob pulled into this driveway and his Ford rumbled to a stop; the engine shut off with one last cough for good measure. The group piled out, making their way up to the house¡¯s door.

    ¡°I never pegged your family as the apple pie life type,¡± Adam told Xavier as they stopped. Agent Mann¡¯s finger bone pressed the doorbell; a sweet little chime pinged inside the house.

    ¡°They weren¡¯t,¡± Xavier confirmed. ¡°They tried to be, but Dad was too ambitious with his accounting job, and so we ended up moving into the city instead. They were always much happier with an urban jungle full of people around them then a quiet, boring town where nothing ever happens.¡±

    ¡°Except, apparently, alien abductions,¡± Agent Mann supplied. Jacob rolled his eyes.

    Xavier shrugged. ¡°Yeah, well, Beaver Falls didn¡¯t have any UFOs back in 2003.¡±

    Jacob, still somewhat skeptical about the aliens being real, frowned. ¡°And still might not have them now,¡± he said. He would have added more, but at that moment, the door opened, allowing the two revenants and two humans to see the house¡¯s owner.

    The current owner of the house was an eccentric man. Tall and disturbingly overweight, with a purple-stained white V-neck and spaghetti sauce dribbling from his beard, he looked like a much fatter Albert Einstein. He had pure white hair that stuck up wildly, like hay straws.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± the man asked, confused.

    Agent Mann dug into his chest pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it up to show off his FBI badge. ¡°Good day, sir. I am Agent Skul Mann, FBI. These here are some interns that I¡¯m allowing to shadow me today. May we ask you some questions about last night?¡±

    ¡°Since when are we interns?¡± Adam whispered to Jacob.

    The black teen rolled his eyes. ¡°Just go along with it.¡±

    The house¡¯s current owner, who evidently hadn¡¯t heard the two¡¯s exchange, opened his mouth in an o of understanding. ¡°This is about the abduction, isn¡¯t it!?¡± he exclaimed excitedly. ¡°I promise you it wasn¡¯t a figment of all that Bud Light. Please, please, come in¡ªno government agent is turned away at the home of Newton Law.¡±

    The fat man stepped aside, clearing the entrance. Adam and Xavier snickered quietly at his name, and Jacob stared somewhat pitifully.

    ¡°Your name is Newton Law?¡± he repeated.

    Newton sighed. ¡°My parents were Harvard science professors and also hated me,¡± he said. Agent Mann kicked Adam and Xavier when they only snickered even harder. Jacob just snorted and rolled his eyes at them fondly.

    ¡°If you two are done, let¡¯s enjoy Mr. Law¡¯s hospitality,¡± Mann suggested, although from his tone and the mirthful shine in his eye sockets, he clearly was having trouble holding back laughter of his own. And so they filed into Xavier¡¯s old home one by one. They didn¡¯t bother taking off their dress shoes. Newton Law lead them to the living room, a messy place where conspiracy theory books lay strewn about the floor and coffee table, and posters of alien movies had been taped over every inch of the walls.

    ¡°It¡¯s always the nutcases,¡± Mann muttered with a forlorned sigh into Jacob¡¯s ear.

    Xavier frowned deeply. ¡°I don¡¯t know whether I should gag, puke, or laugh,¡± he told the other three as Newton hurried off into another room with a claim of having pictures. ¡°This bastard turned the place into a pigsty.¡±

    Adam patted his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t let it bother you; it¡¯s only one of the dirtiest rooms in the tri-county area.¡±

    ¡°Says the one whose room hasn¡¯t been cleaned in over a year,¡± Xavier said evenly.

    ¡°Oi! That¡¯s an organized mess! This is just a mess, nothing organized about it!¡±

    ¡°You two act like an old married couple,¡± Agent Mann deadpanned, and Jacob threw his hands up in the air.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± the Right Hand user exclaimed, relieved. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been saying for ages!¡±

    Newton waddled back into the living room with a large and expensive-looking camera clenched in his hands. ¡°I took a bunch of pictures,¡± the man said hurriedly, as though the group might not hear him if he spoke at a normal pace. He popped a thin 8-GB SD Card out of the camera and handed it to Agent Mann. ¡°They¡¯re all contained on this SD Card here.¡±

    ¡°Er¡­ thank you.¡± Somewhat perturbed, Agent Mann wiped his finger bones off on his dress pants after securing the card in his pocket; the damned thing was already coated in grease from Newton¡¯s stubby fingers. ¡°Mr. Law,¡± he said, ¡°where and when did you observe the UFO?¡±

    ¡°Just outside the men¡¯s club on Cougar Street,¡± the fat man replied immediately, and Jacob blanched while Adam and Xavier once again descended into snickers. ¡°At about midnight,¡± he added.

    ¡°Who puts a men¡¯s club on Cougar Street?¡± Xavier whispered, grinning widely.

    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Adam wheezed from the hilarity. ¡°Where else would you put one?¡±

    Unimpressed, Agent Mann discreetly kicked them each a second time.

    ¡°Can you describe what you saw that night, Mr. Law?¡± Jacob asked, pointedly ignoring his friends.

    Newton Law nodded, his little, beady eyes widening in excitement. ¡°I sure can! So, after I left the club, I started to head for my Jeep. But halfway down the parking lot, the sky suddenly shown bright as day, and there was this whirring sound, like a plane¡¯s rotors. I looked up, and there was the UFO, this big, massive cylinder hovering over the parking lot a couple rows down from me. A yellow beam shot down from it and sucked up a girl who was leaving after her shift. She¡¯d worked at the club until that time. Then the whirring sound grew louder, and the UFO sped off into the night sky.¡± His whole recounting, he spoke a million miles an hour; he was so fat that his b¡¯s were slurred.

    ¡°Thank you for your time, sir,¡± Agent Mann said with a curt nod. He turned to the teens. ¡°Come, men, let¡¯s get going; we¡¯ve several more people to interview yet.¡±

    He headed for the door, and the three boys followed suit. Newton thanked them for the visit and told them they could come back anytime to hear his Bigfoot theories; rightly disturbed, the group hurried out of Newton Law¡¯s house. Jacob couldn¡¯t have been happier to exit that disgustingly messy house, and sighed a breath of relief when they had returned to his Ford.

    ¡°Do you think we can trust his word?¡± Jacob asked as they all entered his car.

    Adam stared. ¡°He believes in Bigfoot. Never trust anybody who believes in Bigfoot.¡±

    ¡°Adam, shut up. I wasn¡¯t asking you. Although I do agree.¡±

    ¡°Whether we can trust him depends on the statements of the other witnesses, and on how well his pictures match up with his story,¡± Agent Mann mused. ¡°Of course, that assumes that his pictures are even legit to begin with. If they¡¯ve been photoshopped, his entire story can be immediately discarded as untrue.¡±

    Adam clicked his seatbelt into place. ¡°Leave that to me,¡± he said proudly. ¡°I¡¯ll find out whether these photos are the real deal or if they¡¯ve been edited and messed with.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    The skeleton nodded. ¡°That¡¯ll be your job, then. Xavier, can you and your photographic memory record every interview, including this one?¡±

    ¡°Can do,¡± Xavier promised. ¡°I¡¯ll remember everything without fail.¡±

    ¡°Brilliant. Then Jacob and I will handle the interviewing. Now, then, let¡¯s see about the next house¡­¡±

    ~o~

    ¡°Ah, that hits the spot,¡± Jacob sighed happily as he set down a steaming cup of coffee on a circular table before him.

    The group had finished their witness interviews early and decided to take a break at a local Starbucks. It was now around two-thirty in the afternoon, and although the fast food joint was busy, it had free internet and, of course, coffee. Both of these perks were something the revenant and his charges desperately desired. Xavier was busy finishing up his reports of the afternoon¡¯s interviews, and in the meantime, Adam used his laptop to make a map of each UFO sighting. Thanks to a computer app he¡¯d developed himself in the past, based off of pre-existing web apps, he¡¯d proved that none of the photos taken had been tampered with. Now he was just using Newton Law¡¯s account of the abduction he¡¯d witnessed, as well as those of the other witnesses, to come up with a crime map.

    ¡°Guys, check this out,¡± Adam said at last, turning his computer around for all the others to see. He¡¯d pulled up a map of the city and had marked each reported sighting with a red dot. ¡°These sightings all seem to fall in a pattern. Do you see the shape they make?¡±

    Jacob squinted, pop music drifting into his ears from the store¡¯s speakers. One dot was located near the top of the digital map of Beaver Falls. Another was placed diagonally down and to the left of the previous one. A third had been marked on a spot below the second, but horizontally halfway between the first and second, with a fourth on the same height as the third (but located on the other side of the uppermost dot). Lost, Jacob shook his head.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Xavier, glancing up from his notebook, said. ¡°I was never very good at connect-the-dots, and to me, that just looks like a weird quadrilateral.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re going to have to throw us a bone,¡± Agent Mann told the computer whiz with a glint in his eye socket. ¡°I can provide one for you if you like.¡±

    Adam stared. ¡°It is so weird to try and picture you as a skeleton. You look like the twin of Daniel Craig.¡± He shook his head in amazement and turned his laptop back around to face him. ¡°Hold on a sec, guys.¡± He right-clicked the mouse, plugged into one of the laptop¡¯s USB ports, several times, and dragged it across the circular table. Jacob, Mann, and Xavier watched curiously. When he was done, he showed the screen to them again and asked what they saw that time.

    Jacob blinked. Lines now connected the dots, but had been drawn in such a way that the shape resembled¡­

    ¡°A star,¡± he said suddenly. ¡°It¡¯s a star!... But it¡¯s missing its fifth point.¡±

    Agent Mann¡¯s eye sockets widened. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re right! That¡¯s¡­ weirdly symbolic.¡±

    Xavier raised an eyebrow. ¡°I think Jacob¡¯s rubbing off on you, Agent Mann.¡±

    Adam rolled his eyes. ¡°Ignoring that, precisely! It is indeed what I believe to be a star with the fifth point missing. All the other points, as you can see, are located at the dots representing the UFO sightings. And since a period of seven hours exists between any two chronologically adjacent sightings, I believe that the UFO¡¯s next appearance will be at the missing fifth point in half an hour¡ªthree o¡¯clock.¡±

    Xavier gave a standing ovation. ¡°Bravo! You actually sounded smart!¡±

    ¡°Xavier,¡± Adam said flatly, ¡°shut up.¡±

    ¡°Oi, that¡¯s our thing to you,¡± Jacob said. ¡°You can¡¯t just steal it like that.¡±

    ¡°I can do whatever I want, it¡¯s a free country.¡±

    ¡°Boys,¡± Mann sighed, and they quieted down. He peered at the map. ¡°That missing dot looks like it¡¯s near the riverbank.¡± Beaver River ran southeast from Normal to right past Beaver Falls, which had actually gotten its town name from a miniature falls in said river.

    Jacob stood up and stretched. ¡°Well, then what are we waiting for? Let¡¯s go find those aliens!¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t got any time to lose,¡± the skeleton agreed, his smooth British accent pleasing to the ears.

    Xavier grinned and snapped his notebook shut. ¡°Now this is getting me excited!¡± he exclaimed. He high-fived Adam and laughed manically. ¡°We¡¯re about to make history, my man!¡±

    ¡°HISTORY!¡± Adam whooped.

    Agent Mann groaned. ¡°Did you already forget what I told you about the importance of this job¡­?¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Jacob deadpanned.

    And so the two revenants and two humans left the Beaver Falls Starbucks, driving as fast as they could through town without breaking the speed limit. The old Ford drowned and hacked as they went. Adam and Xavier stared up at the sky through their windows, keeping watch for any circular, flying objects. None came, though, and twenty minutes later, they fought their way through traffic and arrived at the missing point of the star as indicated by Adam¡¯s digital map.

    They found themselves at a sprawling picnic area by the riverbank, where fire stoves and picnic tables had been set up for anyone who wished to use them. Scarcely spaced trees, short and stocky, grew from the ground, and the grass was freshly cut; chopped blades still lay scattered about like some mad scientist¡¯s sick experiment to mess with allergic kids¡¯ heads. That day, a surprising lack of people made use of the picnic area¡¯s public utilities, although this pleased Agent Mann. The less people there were, the less who were able to be potentially abducted or become witnesses.

    The group of four picked a table and sat down. Minutes crept by like tortoises, and they waited with bated breath.

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s really going to come?¡± Adam wondered after several minutes of inactivity.

    ¡°A map correctly depicting the next appearance of the target is a clich¨¦ in stories with these kinds of situations,¡± Jacob said. ¡°It¡¯ll come. Hey, what time is it?¡±

    Agent Mann checked his iPone. ¡°It¡¯s three now.¡±

    Everyone stiffened, training their eyes on the sky around them. Large puffs of clouds hung in the air like anti-gravity cotton candy, but nothing that looked a large, cylindrical alien spaceship. Silence fell on them all as they scanned the heavens for anything extraterrestrial. The only sound was the rushing of water from Beaver River, which flowed by a mere twenty feet away.

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Jacob tilted his head. ¡°Nothing¡¯s happening.¡±

    ¡°So much for clich¨¦s working in real life,¡± Adam muttered. ¡°That¡¯s disappointing.¡±

    Agent Mann nodded, almost about to agree, when a thought crossed his mind. He blinked and smacked his bony forehead. ¡°Wait, I forgot!¡± he said quickly, drawing the others¡¯ attention. ¡°My phone¡¯s clock is a minute fast!¡±

    ¡°Of all the things to forget¡ª!¡± Xavier started to grumble, but at that moment, a low-pitched drone filled the air. It started soft and quiet at first, but increased consistently in volume before dying down, and Adam yelped and pointed up in the air. Down at the other side of the picnic park, a family of five enjoyed some sandwiches, but as Jacob watched in escalating horror, a spaceship zoomed into existence above them and slowed to a stop with remarkable efficiency. A yellow beam dropped down from a hatch that opened in the middle of the ship¡¯s bottom, and the family started to scream and flail their arms as they were pulled up into the sky.

    As Newton Law had described, the spaceship vaguely resembled an airplane, except it was much wider and longer than any plane Jacob had ever seen before. Grey and menacing, it hovered in place through some unknown means. Wings extended from either side, each one carrying two rotors that were currently unpowered. A thruster had been constructed in the butt end of the ship.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Agent Mann cursed as the family slowly rose up higher. ¡°They¡¯re being abducted! We need to save them, but we can¡¯t let that ship get away! We don¡¯t where it might escape to, or how fast it is!¡±

    Adam stood up quickly, tensing. ¡°What do we do?¡±

    ¡°Leave it to me,¡± Agent Mann said. ¡°I¡¯ll bring that ship down.¡± He got to his feet and his right eye glowed blue. But nothing else happened, and he stiffened. ¡°I can¡¯t teleport through that hatch the beam¡¯s coming out of! I think the beam is blocking it somehow!¡±

    Xavier gaped. ¡°No way! Shouldn¡¯t that be, like, impossible!?¡±

    ¡°Not unless it¡¯s made out of some strange kind of material,¡± Jacob muttered, narrowing his eyes.

    Agent Mann nodded, clenching his teeth. ¡°Or magic.¡±

    Adam thought for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re super strong, right? Try punching through some weak point on top of the ship. If you can do that, you might be able to make it crash.¡±

    The skeleton considered this. It would take tons of force to pull that off, and for anything but a demon it would normally be impossible, but by adding his soul power into his fist¡­ ¡°That might just be possible,¡± he said. ¡°Wait here; I¡¯ll be back in a few seconds. When it crashes, we¡¯ll board it together.¡±

    He took a deep breath, then the skeleton revenant disappeared from their picnic table. When he returned to sight, Mann clung to the side of the alien spaceship using nothing but his finger bones. He started to slide off, but even as he did so, he caught sight of the ship¡¯s top. The skeleton teleported to an area where he could safely stand. Mere moments later; he heard a metallic grating; the hatch through which the beam blasted was closing. The aliens had completed their abduction.

    That low drone started up again; the rotors had begun turning rapidly. The ship would likely take off very quickly.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Agent Mann said again, and closed his eye sockets. He took a deep breath and imagined retreating inwards, deep inside himself. He searched for the warm radiance of his soul, and found it near where his heart would have been had he had one. He pictured his wispy soul enlarging, growing denser; Mann curled his hand into a bony fist, fell into a horse stance, and punched downwards with all the force of a train. He then teleported to a second location and punched there, too.

    The metallic roof crunched where his knuckles struck it, and collapsed inwards, revealing pristine white halls. Air rushed out from the hole at him, and an alarm blared. The rotors whined and slowed, and Agent Mann teleported back down to the ground. Startled at his sudden appearance, Jacob, Adam, and Xavier jumped a little.

    Adam leaned forward. ¡°Did you do it?¡± he demanded, concerned.

    Mann nodded groggily. ¡°It should start crashing because of the change in air pressure any second,¡± he panted, and the boys cheered. The FBI agent leaned against the wooden table for support; increasing his strength like that so much had really used up way too much of his energy. He could feel his vision swimming and fading. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be of much help to you guys for a while,¡± he gasped, clutching his skull. ¡°I¡¯ll leave the rest to you¡­ whatever you do, don¡¯t¡­ do anything to make their species declare war on us¡­ I¡¯ll be sleeping now.¡±

    He slumped forward and fell over the table, unconscious.

    ¡°Is he alright?¡± Xavier asked.

    Jacob swallowed, but nodded firmly. ¡°I¡¯m sure he is,¡± he said. ¡°He must¡¯ve just overextended himself by punching a hole in that ship.¡± As he spoke, the spaceship in question tilted and slowly began to fall, picking up speed second by passing second. The teens looked up as it came down, heading on a path towards the river. Two seconds later, the massive ship crashed, shaking the very earth and throwing up a huge plume of water into the sky. Some of the ship tore off of the rest, revealing a pure white room that appeared to be some sort of bedroom; bunkbeds lined the walls, and cabinets were added wherever the beds weren¡¯t.

    Adam gulped nervously and stepped forward. ¡°Alright, gang,¡± he said, both fear and excitement evident in his voice. ¡°Let¡¯s board that alien spaceship.¡±

    ¡°Right behind you,¡± Xavier assured him.

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Jacob agreed. He nodded and stepped up alongside his friend, frowning at the extraterrestrial construct before him. ¡°Let¡¯s rescue those poor people who were abducted and secure Earth¡¯s safety.¡±

    Together, the three friends picked their way carefully down the riverbank¡¯s cement blocks, only coming to a stop when they¡¯d reached the ship itself. It was almost as wide as Beaver River, and the side with the torn-off panel faced them, resting on the riverbank. They wouldn¡¯t even have to wade in the water. All they had to do was simply walk into the ship, and so they did. They made sure to watch the ground for any loose shards of sharp metal plating.

    It was cold inside the ship, chilly like after a rainstorm tears through town on a fall day. Cautiously, they strained their ears for the sound of footsteps, although with the ship¡¯s ridiculously high-pitched, alarm wailing in their ears it was hard to hear anything else.  They moved quietly through the bedroom to the opposite end, where a dent in the white wall took the general shape of a door. Upon reaching it, the dented-in wall automatically slid open to the left.

    Skin crawling, blood racing, the boys crept into the corridor. It was long and as white as the bedroom had been; it seemed to stretch clear from the spaceship¡¯s back to its front. Here and there, grey ventilation covers had been built into the walls near the ceiling. Light bulbs in said ceiling broke up its otherwise smooth, metallic shine, and cast bright light all throughout the corridor. More of the dented-in doors were unevenly spaced down as far as the hall went. Each had a grey screen on the wall directly to its right, and above this, a metallic panel with strange characters and symbols in an extraterrestrial language Jacob couldn¡¯t make heads or tails out of.

    Xavier tried approaching one door, but it wouldn¡¯t budge. He frowned and tapped the screen next to it, and what looked like a passcode entry popped up.

    ¡°Great,¡± Adam grumbled. ¡°I bet all the doors are locked from this side through passcodes or whatever.¡±

    Xavier groaned. ¡°How are we supposed to save that family, and the other abducted people, now?¡±

    A door opened some ways down the hall, and tons of strange creatures carrying guns rushed out. They were certainly no ¡°little green men¡± from the movies. They stood upright, balancing on three slimy legs with doglike paws attached. Their skin was sleek and grey, and each creature sported seven noodley arms with hand paws that had five fingers and a thumb. Their bodies were thin but sturdy-looking; their faces were tall and oblong. They had catlike, yellow eyes.

    ¡°¡­The fuck are they?¡± Xavier asked eloquently, both fascinated and grossed out by them.

    All of the aliens present¡ªaround eight or nine¡ªimmediately swiveled their heads toward Jacob, Adam, and Xavier. The futuristic guns pointed directly at them, and the aliens opened their mouths to reveal yellowed teeth, and an otherworldly hissing, clicking noise slithered from their throats. The Earthlings backed up a couple steps.

    ¡°What¡¯s it saying?¡± Adam gulped, eyeing the weird guns nervously.

    Jacob, mystified, shook his head. ¡°Beats me. But whatever it is, those guns say they are not happy to see us.¡±

    Xavier swallowed, then stepped forward, raised his hands, and made peace signs. ¡°Please lower your weapons, er, whatever the hell you things are!¡± he said loudly. The aliens paused and frowned. The teen¡¯s hands trembled a little, but he continued. ¡°We do not wish you harm! We come in peace!¡±

    Adam squeaked. ¡°Xav, are you fucking kidding me!? They have guns pointed between our eyes and that¡¯s what you say!?¡±

    ¡°Adam, shut up!¡± Xavier hissed, his voice unnaturally high and his ears pink. ¡°I¡¯m terrified out of my mind here and your snark is not helping!¡±

    Meanwhile, the aliens looked at each other, chattered in their hissing/clicking language, and then the one in the middle and standing ahead of the others reached behind its back. The boys tensed, fearful that it might be reaching for ammo; Jacob slipped his hand into his pocket to grab at his dagger in case things went south. But before he could do anything stupid, the alien produced from behind its back not ammo, but some device that appeared to be a long, silver can with a button on the end. It pressed this and said, ¡°Well, why didn¡¯t say so?¡± in perfect English.

    All the aliens grinned and lowered their guns, returning Xavier¡¯s peace sign.

    Jacob¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Okay, what?¡± he said.

    ¡°We are the Slydrinothgmnackians,¡± the creature said in a friendly tone. Now it was time for Adam and Xavier¡¯s jaws to drop at the pure absurdity of the name. ¡°We had assumed you were the ones who attacked our ship, but if you come in peace, then you clearly did not do so. It must have been those pesky Drantinokyiamites again. Pesky fishpeople with their constant bombardment of our ship, thinking the Galactic Supershell Games are still happening¡­ they lost fifty light years ago! Yeesh. Don¡¯t you wish they¡¯d just accept that already?¡±

    The other aliens nodded, chattering in annoyance. Jacob decided telling them that their mentor, Agent Mann, had in fact caused the damage might not be the best option.

    ¡°But enough about that,¡± the alien said, rubbing its paws. ¡°What brings you Earthlings to our humble starship?¡±

    Adam¡¯s mouth opened and closed silently, his words dying in his throat before he could speak.

    Jacob blinked and shook himself out of his stupor. ¡°You¡­ um¡­ abducted some of our people and we¡¯d like them back?¡±

    ¡°Oh, is that all?¡± The alien nodded, and some of its friends rubbed the backs of their heads sheepishly. ¡°I assure you we didn¡¯t mean to cause any alarm. Actually, we were already planning to return the Earthlings we took yesterday to their homes, safe and sound and not remembering a thing. So, you can have them!¡±

    Everyone gaped.

    ¡°¡­Is this not going at all like anyone else expected it to?¡± Xavier asked blankly.

    Jacob and Adam could only nod.

    ¡°Why¡­ did you take them?¡± Adam managed to say.

    The alien winced. ¡°Oh, right. On our home planet, a seer named Ylsknnomasttma foresaw that prophets born on this planet could predict the end of the universe. We¡¯ve been taking potential prophets and hypnotizing them to try and get them to reveal the message to us, but so far, no one has said a peep. We¡¯re about to perform the next hypnotism test on the new prophets right now, if you¡¯d like to watch¡­ er, what¡¯s your names?¡±

    ¡°Jacob Davidson,¡± Jacob answered on reflex.

    Adam raised a shaky hand. ¡°Adam Jones.¡±

    ¡°Xavier Fairway,¡± said Xavier.

    Pleased, the alien nodded and glanced at its friends. ¡°Men, kindly introduce yourselves to our guests.¡±

    One by one, going down the line from left to right, the other slimy creatures did so.

    ¡°Zolswargz.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Rakksolstnmy.¡±

    ¡°Bdesnjolsgax.¡±

    ¡°Strestanmebbes.¡±

    ¡°Fthzynmitas here.¡±

    ¡°Yttobobsie, bitches.¡±

    ¡°Genysmobbzots.¡±

    The alien who¡¯d done most of the speaking so far, and who appeared to be his friends¡¯ leader, clapped. ¡°Well done! And I¡¯m Fred.¡±

    ¡°¡­What,¡± Adam said, which summed up Jacob¡¯s own thoughts pretty damn accurately. Xavier facepalmed.

    ¡°Come!¡± Fred the alien said happily, motioning for them to follow him with all seven hands. ¡°To the Observation Room!¡± And with that, he marched back to the room from which he and the other Slydrinothgmnackians had come. His buddies followed him.

    Jacob, Adam, and Xavier exchanged flabbergasted looks.

    ¡°Do we¡­ follow them?¡± Adam wondered, tilting his head.

    Xavier frowned. ¡°It could be a trap.¡±

    ¡°We have no way to get through the other doors or any idea of where they¡¯re holding the abductees,¡± Jacob pointed out. ¡°Plus, they could¡¯ve shot us when they pointed their guns at us in the first place if they didn¡¯t like us. I guess¡­ we just follow them for now?¡±

    The three teens paused, then nodded. They headed off to the room that Fred and his fellow aliens had left to; meanwhile, the alarm died off. Upon entering the new room, the door slid shut behind them and they took stock of their new surroundings. It was a long and cramped room that was empty save for a few benches placed near the opposite wall, which was entirely built of glass. The wall was actually one large window overlooking a darker chamber where the abducted family sat, strapped to four separate chairs with goggles over their eyes. Another alien paced back and forth alongside them.

    The aliens¡¯ hissing/clicking language filled the room, although none of the ones in the Observation Room seemed to be chattering.

    ¡°This room plays any sounds from the Hypnotism Chamber through speakers built into the walls,¡± Fred the Slydrinothgmnackian told them. ¡°The hypnotism process has gotten much efficient and faster to complete the more we¡¯ve used it, so we should start hearing results any minute¡­ if the, ah, subjects are willing to speak. Do not worry; none of those Earthlings in the Chamber will be harmed, nor will they have any adverse suggestions implanted in them. Please, have a seat.¡±

    None of the Earthlings chose to sat down; it would be much easier to fight in the case of Fred having lied if they were already standing. Jacob watched the hypnotism carefully; if anything happened other than what Fred the Slydrinothgmnackian had claimed would happen, he¡¯d immediately try to rescue the subjects.

    After a few minutes of only the alien language coming through the speakers, the youngest member of the abducted family¡ªa sweet little boy wearing a baseball cap, a striped shirt, and shorts¡ªspoke.¡¯

    ¡°Beware the left hand,¡± the kid said, and Fred¡¯s eyes shot open.

    ¡°Results!¡± he gasped, leaning forward. The other aliens chattered excitedly.

    ¡°Shh,¡± Yttobobsie hissed. ¡°He¡¯s saying more.¡±

    And so the boy was. ¡°Beware the night of the dead,¡± he warned. ¡°The bell shall open the gates of death, and man shall fall. Beware the left hand.¡± The kid¡¯s voice was definitely not normal; it was hollow and toneless, as if an empty tunnel had been given the ability to speak. Something about it made Jacob shiver, made his hackles raise on end. He swallowed dry, cold air and turned quickly to Xavier.

    ¡°Oi, you getting all of this?¡± he said quietly.

    Xavier, wide-eyed and pale as a sheet, nodded.

    ¡°Beware the left hand!¡± the boy continued to say, more intently this time. ¡°The serpent¡¯s servant shall corrupt the just! Beware the night of the dead! The virus shall gather the detested and the fallen. The black eyes shall wake the right¡¯s bane! Beware the left hand! The key may be found only through the just man¡¯s heaviest price! Four shall stand at the gates of death; three shall return to the land of life! Beware the night of the dead!¡±

    The ship started to shake now, and the room grew ever colder. Jacob could see his breath. The alien down in the Hypnotism Chamber had long since stopped speaking in its extraterrestrial language; it ran around in circles, clearly terrified. The Slydrinothgmnackians up in the Observation Room with the boys also were panicked, chattering amongst themselves in fearful tones.

    ¡°Beware the men with black eyes!¡±

    The glass looking out into the Hypnotism Chamber cracked; now the Slydrinothgmnackians stood up and began to backpedal out of the room. Down in the Chamber, the boy¡¯s goggles sparked with electricity.

    ¡°Beware the left hand!¡±

    ¡°WHAT¡¯S GOING ON!?¡± Adam bellowed as the ship¡¯s alarm again blared, and he backed away from the quickly fracturing window.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Fred gulped, eyes wide with terror. ¡°Nothing like this has ever happened before!¡±

    ¡°BEWARE THE CAGED SERPENT AND HIS SERVANT!¡±

    The boy¡¯s goggles shattered and fell away from his eyes, finally allowing Jacob to get a good look at them; to his shock, they were pure light. ¡°BEWARE!¡± The word boomed throughout the Observation Room like a volcano eruption, easily overpowering the squealing alarm, and the glass window shattered. Any Slydrinothgmnackians still there scampered away, out into the hall, and the boys were hot on their heels.

    For two terrible seconds, the ship rocked back and forth as though it might simply turn over on itself. Jacob¡¯s ears rang, and he clapped his hands over them, howling.

    Then, quite suddenly, the commotion died.

    The Slydrinothgmnackians, cowering for safety against the corridor¡¯s walls, slowly drew to their full height and looked cautiously at the Observation Room. The floor was littered with glass; some white panels on the ceiling had torn free and hung by only some metallic-looking rope.

    ¡°Um¡­ Fred?¡± one of the aliens¡ªwas it Zolswargz? It could¡¯ve been Fthzynmitas¡ªspoke up hesitantly. ¡°What do we do?¡±

    Fred looked scared, but also confused. ¡°Check to see what has happened,¡± he suggested.

    They all hurried back into the room, which other than the dangling ceiling panels and shattered glass window, actually had not suffered much damage. In the Hypnotism Chamber, though, the abducted family¡¯s hypnotism goggles had all burned off, leaving nothing but ashes on them and not even scarring their faces. They groaned blearily and sat up; their restraints had been broken. And as for the boy...

    He hovered in the middle of the Chamber, his hands outstretched and his eyes still spotlights. Jacob thought he saw the faint image of feathery wings stretching out from the boy¡¯s back. Then he blinked, and the boy¡¯s eyes were normal again; no wings were there. He hung in space for a brief second, then fell to the ground.

    ¡°JAMES!¡± cried the mother suddenly, running and leaping to catch him.

    Jacob stared, eyes wide. Adam, Xavier, and Fred and his aliens all stared, too.

    The events that had happened that day would be something that none of them would forget for years.

 Chapter 9 - Short Circuit

    <u>Chapter 9: Short Circuit</u>

    The next few minutes were chaotic. Fred barked orders to his fellow aliens in Slydrinothgmnackian. The slimy, seven-armed creatures rushed around in a storm of terror and befuddlement. Down in the Hypnotism Chamber, the alien who¡¯d been overseeing the process tried to let James the Prophet and his family out, but the door was busted and refused to open. Fred¡¯s buddies returned with a ladder and several brooms; they immediately set to work sweeping all the glass on the floor into piles.

    Once a reasonably large space had been cleared, the aliens with the ladder eased it down into the Hypnotism Chamber through the Observation Room¡¯s now completely broken window. They leaned the ladder against the wall below said window. An escape route thus created, the family and the Slydrinothgmnackian overseeing them began to clamber up it.

    ¡°That,¡± Xavier choked while all this occurred, ¡°was not fun. Let¡¯s never do that again.¡±

    Adam nodded and raised his hand. ¡°I second that motion. The aliens part? Let¡¯s do that again. The mysterious-prophet-thing-making-a-massive-fuck-all-explosion part? Hell to the no.¡±

    Jacob¡¯s hands trembled as he remembered the little boy¡¯s hollow voice. His warnings echoed in the revenant¡¯s head. ¡°Fred,¡± he said after a moment, ¡°do you know what any of that meant?¡±

    Fred, who had been silent since giving orders to his alien buddies, closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. ¡°No,¡± he admitted. ¡°The only things I think I might understand are the mentions of the ¡®night of the dead¡¯ and the ¡®men with black eyes.¡¯ The former likely points to Halloween, while the latter definitely refers to people possessed by demons. Anytime a demon possesses anyone, whether that person is an Earthling or a Slydrinothgmnackian, that person¡¯s eyes turn pure black¡ªblack as the farthest, emptiest corners of space.¡±

    Adam gulped a knot in his throat down. ¡°That,¡± he said, ¡°is terrifying.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Fred said quietly.

    Xavier frowned and wondered aloud, ¡°Fred, now that you have your prophecy, what are you going to do next?¡±

    The alien hummed, crossed six of his arms, and rubbed his ovular chin with the last hand. ¡°We will probably return to our home planet of Fortuna after repairing the damage done to the ship,¡± he said thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯ll take a couple days though; in the meantime we¡¯ll put up a magic barrier so no prying eyes see us, and so any boats coming through skirt around us. We do need to return to our home planet, however, to discuss things with our queen. If the talk goes well, you will see us again in about two months, friends.¡± His yellow eyes narrowed, and he uncrossed his arms. ¡°It seems that war is coming to your planet, Earthlings¡ªa war against an evil that you cannot beat alone. You will need all of our help.¡±

    Jacob swallowed and then set his gaze. ¡°Why?¡± he asked, and Fred blinked. ¡°Why do you care about all of this so much, anyway? And why are you willing to help us if there is a demon war, or whatever?¡±

    ¡°Because if the demons win, then they will almost certainly go to any lengths to free their master, Lucifer, from his cage in Hell that he has spent eons in.¡± Fred frowned. ¡°Actually, I¡¯ll bet he¡¯s the ¡®caged serpent¡¯ from the prophecy.¡±

    ¡°How do you know all of this about Lucifer and demons?¡± Adam asked before Jacob had the chance to.

    A dark look passed over the alien¡¯s face, and he sighed morosely. ¡°Because Earth isn¡¯t the only planet plagued by the supernatural, or where prophets walk,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Our prophets just all went silent millennia ago.¡±

    By that time, the abducted family had long since climbed into the Observation Room and had promptly been escorted to another room, where they¡¯d be wiped of all their memories from the past ten or so minutes. They would also not wake from a trance until they made it to their own homes.

    Their conversation over, Fred bowed to his guests and led them out of the ship. He didn¡¯t try to memory wipe them or put them into a trance thanks to their friendship; he trusted them to warn whoever needed to be warned about the coming war. This was largely due to the fact that he was Clear Sighted and recognized Jacob as being a non-vengeful revenant. Soon after the group had finally left the ship, the abducted people were brought out and given to Jacob and his friends.

    ¡°I could help with some of the rebuilding if you¡¯d like,¡± Adam offered eagerly, his eyes practically shining with excitement. ¡°I¡¯m a bit of a technological whiz myself, and it¡¯d be really cool to see how your ship functions.¡±

    ¡°I may just take you up on that offer,¡± Fthzynmitas, the tallest of the aliens, said with a grin. ¡°We don¡¯t have many more passengers on our ship, actually, so any extra help would make things faster. I¡¯m the head engineer on this starship, so give me your telephone number and I¡¯ll call if I need your help.¡±

    Adam¡¯s giddiness shone in waves. ¡°Awesome!¡± he said bubbly, jumping from foot to foot like a seven-year-old at a theme park. ¡°Sure thing! Our first day of our senior year in school is starting in a couple days, anyway, so I literally won¡¯t be missing anything if I don¡¯t go. Here¡¯s my number¡­¡±

    Yttobobsie, the shortest alien, snorted and raised his eyebrows. ¡°Those two are getting along well,¡± he noted with bemusement.

    Xavier frowned. ¡°I almost feel a little jealous,¡± he said, though from the tone of his voice, he was just teasing.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s been nice knowing you bitches,¡± the alien said with a salute. ¡°Lightspeed.¡±

    Jacob and Xavier grinned. ¡°Lightspeed,¡± they said together, saluting Yttobobsie in return.

    ¡°Lightspeed, Earthlings,¡± Fred said; it seemed to be their version of see you later or maybe godspeed (Jacob wasn¡¯t quite sure). Then, he turned and hissed/clicked at his alien buddies. The Slydrinothgmnackians all returned to their ship¡­ but not before Fred paused and turned back around to hand Jacob the grey, can-like object from earlier with a grin.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Jacob wondered, taking it curiously and recoiling at the strange warm, tingling sensation it gave off.  A quick examination showed no noticeable grooves in its sleek, cylindrical sides, nor anything else of potential importance save for the blaringly obvious button on the top. He blinked rapidly and stuffed the device in his pocket.

    Fred winked. ¡°Just a little piece of Fortuna technology,¡± he said mysteriously. ¡°It should help in the coming war with the demons.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jacob said gratefully, and he meant it. It felt nice to be given a token of intergalactic friendship. He still couldn¡¯t quite believe in all this prophets and demons thing, even after all that had happened today; but he knew something big was coming and having extra preparation was nice. ¡°What does it do?¡±

    The Slydrinothgmnackian chuckled and returned to following his fellow aliens aboard their starship. ¡°Oh, now where would the fun be in me telling you? Magic and science go hand in hand, Earthling. I think you should be extremely grateful for that once you discover its use, however.¡±

    Fred stretched and at last boarded the starship once more, leaving Jacob, Adam, and Xavier alone with the previously abducted people. Xavier stretched, grunted, and jabbed his thumb at the latter.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, ¡°now that that¡¯s done, what should we do with these guys?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Jacob blinked and glanced at them. ¡°¡­Well, I mean, the police and stuff will be here any moment. There¡¯s no doubt they heard the ship crash and someone reported its location. So¡­ let¡¯s just leave them here, I guess?¡±

    Adam and Xavier exchanged glances and shrugged.

    ¡°Works for me,¡± they said in unison.

    ¡°Alright, then all that¡¯s left to do is get Agent Mann and get in the car, and then let¡¯s blow this Popsicle stand.¡±

    They carefully climbed back up the cement-slab covered hillside, where they saw police cars driving towards the picnic area in the distance. The three friends then hurried over to Agent Mann, still slumped over across their picnic table, unconscious, and carried him to where Jacob¡¯s old Ford was parked. They stuffed him in the passenger seat, and then everyone hurried in and buckled up themselves. Jacob revved up the engine and the car slowly growled to a start. After a few seconds of not working exactly right, the Ford¡¯s tires squealed and it chased off down the parking lot into the road.

    The drive home to Normal was much more melancholic than the drive down to Beaver Falls. Without Agent Mann up or the abducted family to deal with, Jacob and his friends had nothing to do except ponder the day¡¯s events. Adam and Xavier were excited to have met aliens at last (with Adam being particularly excited at the idea to be working on repairing an actual starship), but the disturbing prophecy was a wet blanket on these emotions. Jacob couldn¡¯t shake the foreboding feeling he¡¯d had since the prophecy had been given, especially concerning the warning about the ¡®left hand.¡¯ He didn¡¯t know why, but for some reason, that part in particular felt deeply personal.

    Twenty minutes into the drive, bones creaked against each other, and Agent Mann groggily sat up in the passenger seat. He groaned and yawned. ¡°Ugh, it feels like I put all my muscles through the wringer,¡± he complained, rubbing his eye sockets and stretching.

    Jacob and Xavier looked at him in delighted surprise. ¡°You¡¯re finally up!¡± they exclaimed in tandem. Adam tilted his head and lifted his pointer finger up in the air.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t have any muscles to put through the wringer,¡± he pointed out. A shit-eating grin turned his lips up.

    Agent Mann groaned and slumped over. ¡°Exactly! Owwwww¡­ I am not expending that much soul power for a long time unless I really need to. That was so not worth it.¡± He stretched again, then sighed and looked over his shoulder at Xavier. ¡°So, how¡¯d it all go?¡±

    They filled him in quickly, Xavier providing just about every detail. In the few times he stumbled over a memory, Adam and Jacob jumped in to help.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what this thing does,¡± Jacob finished up, fishing the can-like device from his pocket and handing it to a curious Agent Mann. ¡°The best theory I¡¯ve got is that it can be used to speak other languages without training, since Fred pressed the button on it before talking in English. That doesn¡¯t seem terribly helpful in a war against demons, though, so I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Agent Mann studied the alien device for a few seconds. ¡°I can¡¯t say that I have any more of an idea on what this does than you three,¡± he confessed, ¡°but I can tell you that this thing is swimming in magic spells and charms that I¡¯ve never even felt before. And I¡¯ve been at this job for several centuries. Hell, I¡¯ve been doing it since before the FBI was even founded, was even a seed of a thought.¡± He shook his head in wonder, turning over the can and simply feeling it. ¡°Just what the hell does it do¡­? Well, I¡¯m going to send it in to Supernatural Relations so that they can test it, experiment on it.¡±

    Xavier nodded. ¡°Fair enough. We don¡¯t want to use it and actually turn Tiff into coffee.¡±

    Jacob snorted. ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth,¡± he muttered.

    Agent Mann stuck the device into his pants pocket for safekeeping, which unfortunately created a rather suggestive bulge. Adam happened to glance at it and coughed. Laughter spilled from his mouth, and he cried mirthfully, ¡°M-Mann¡­ It looks like you¡­!¡± He wheezed and descended into a fit of snickers before coming up for air. ¡°It looks like you have a boner! PFHEEHEEHEE! Get it!? A fucking boner! PFHEEHEEHEE!¡±

    Mann blinked and looked down. ¡°Oh, so it does.¡±

    Xavier sighed tiredly and turned to frown at his still-snickering friend. ¡°Adam,¡± he said flatly, ¡°shut up.¡±

    Jacob¡¯s head hit the steering wheel and he groaned.

    ~o~

    ONE HOUR LATER

    FBI, WASHINGTON D.C.¡ªSUPERNATURAL RELATIONS DEPARTMENT

    ¡°Hullo, Rowling,¡± a smooth British accent rolled out as the door to the small office opened and presented a tall skeleton wrapped in a black-and-white detective film protagonist¡¯s clothing. The revenant¡¯s skull smiled beatifically as he stepped from the hall outside onto the office¡¯s calming, yellow carpet. Paintings of bursting supernovas and beach boys surfing on ten-foot waves hung on the light green walls, and metal cabinets had been stacked against each other on the wall opposite the white door. A single red oak desk slept in the center of the room, with a computer, several books written in ancient runes, and stacks of papers covering it. A decidedly unimpressed blonde woman sat on the other side of the desk, frowning at the newcomer to her office.

    ¡°What do you want Mann?¡± Rowling sighed, her purple suit wrinkling as she folded her arms across her chest. Her emerald orbs fixed him with a look flatter than a cutting board.

    Agent Mann pouted in mock-hurt. ¡°Oh, Rowling, how looks can kill!¡± he sang. ¡°It pains my heart¡­ not that I have one to be pained, of course.¡±

    Rowling¡¯s forehead met the surface of her desk, causing her Mac laptop to jump a little and a pen to roll a few feet. ¡°Goddammit, Mann, quit it with your stupid jokes,¡± she groaned. ¡°I already had to clean up Martin¡¯s newest mess down in the Magical Creatures Wing.¡± Her face gained a few years with each word she spoke. ¡°Does he even realize how damn hard it is to bring baby dragons back to life? And don¡¯t even get me started on the Bermuda Triangle water Tolkien spilled in the Magic Research Wing. The floor there hasn¡¯t stopped smoldering since six this morning.¡± A very, very exhausted groan croaked from her throat. ¡°You better have some good news for me, or I swear I will burn your bones in a summoning spell.¡±

    Agent Mann blanched. ¡°Someone¡¯s happy to see me,¡± he mumbled. Then he sighed and brought out the alien device Jacob had given him. ¡°I do have good news, though, actually. All the abducted citizens of Beaver Falls have been returned to their homes, and good relations with the aliens have been secured.  As it turns out, they were here to uncover a prophecy about the end of the universe, and one of the prophets they¡¯d taken told it at last. After we left, they gave us this device for help¡­ I think it might just make your day.¡±

    He set it on Rowling¡¯s desk, and the woman gingerly took it, her emerald eyes shooting open. ¡°Interesting,¡± she murmured as she rolled it over and tapped it once with a long fingernail. A spark shot from it to her finger, and she winced. ¡°Fascinating¡­ this remarkable spellwork¡­ these charms¡­ I¡¯ve¡ª¡±

    ¡°Never seen anything like it?¡± Mann guessed, nodding. ¡°Neither have I, not in the 500 years since I first became a revenant.¡±

    Blonde locks fell over the woman¡¯s face and she brushed them aside. ¡°This truly could be the discovery of the century,¡± she said, noticeably more cheerful than she had been seconds ago. ¡°If we could reverse-engineer this spellwork¡­¡± Rowling actually salivated at whatever it was she thought, then started and wiped her mouth. She set the device down on the center of her desk. ¡°I must say this is a truly impressive find. Now, then, I must inform Mr. Riggs about this so that he can set up a safe testing room for me. Return to your office and write up a report on your mission.¡±

    Mann sagged. ¡°I hate paperwork¡­¡± he whined, and Rowling rolled her startlingly green eyes as she walked past him.

    ¡°And don¡¯t think this brings you any higher on my list of people I like, Death Breath,¡± she told him with a stern glare.

    Agent Mann grinned and turned to follow her out of her office. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dream of it, Witch Bitch.¡±

    ¡°Dull Skull.¡±

    ¡°Wand Blonde.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not even a proper insult,¡± Rowling deadpanned.

    Mann huffed. ¡°Oh, shut up! Insult rhyming is hard!¡±

    They were so focused on their mutual insulting, they forgot to close the door. As they continued down the mostly empty hall to their separate destinations, they happened to pass a dark-haired man with a pudgy face who wore a khaki suit and pants. Strangely, a pair of black shades sat over his eyes, even though he was indoors. He wheeled a cart with a cage that contained a periwinkle ghost moping about inside.

    Agent Man spared him a brief nod. ¡°Good evening, Bob,¡± he greeted pleasantly. ¡°You finished with those experiments on possessor-types?¡±

    Bob smiled thinly. ¡°Oh, nearly,¡± he said amiably.

    Rowling sighed. ¡°Just¡­ please don¡¯t screw anything up in a way that might damage shit,¡± she pleaded. ¡°I¡¯ve had it with magically fixing others¡¯ mistakes today.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Miss Rowling,¡± Bob said, as calm as a kitten napping in a ray of sunlight. They passed each other by, and Agent Mann and Agent Rowling returned to their bickering. Bob¡¯s pleasant smile thinned to a smirk, and he wheeled the cart into Rowling¡¯s office. He then took a keyring from his pocket and unlatched the ghost¡¯s cage. Upon hearing the metallic click, the transparent spirit perked up immediately and floated out of its cramped prison.

    ¡°Now, then, my little ghost¡­ go!¡± he said, and an Irish accent began to bleed out. ¡°Go and possess this new tool. Use it and push our¡­ friend further and further towards his destiny! Kill anyone standing in your way. Do all this, and I may let you pass on yet!¡±

    The ghost nodded, and flew towards the alien, magical device sleeping on Rowling¡¯s desk, unattended. It vanished inside the can and Bob grinned darkly. The device glowed periwinkle and began to shake. It flipped upright, and then with a crunching of metal, arms extended from its sides, legs extended from its bottom, and it began to grow.

    Bob chuckled and left the possessor ghost to its own devices. Behind the glasses, his pure black eyes gleamed with malice. His deed was done; now it was time to wait and witness the wonderful destruction.