My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators Page 13

  “Why are you blocking me from going to the house?”

  “You ask too many questions.”

  “And you avoid too many.”

  “Don’t make me do it…” He warned with a hint of a smile. I weaved past him irritated that I accidently stepped through his body. I halted and glanced back at him as he tightened his glare. He looked like a solid person, but his body was weightless smoke.

  “I can’t touch you?” I whispered.

  “You sound disappointed.” He smirked back. I rolled my eyes at him and continued on when a tension suddenly pulled on my neck. I placed my hand on my throat able to feel the muscles clench and tighten. Then I was pulled around so I was facing Lock again. He hadn’t moved a muscle as his eyes bore into mine, that familiar touch an outside invasion tickled my memories.

  Go back. He commanded. I shivered heavily; I had forgotten that Banished could do this, invade the minds of their hosts. Don’t make me force you.

  No! I sharply replied before my body swivelled on the ball of my foot and marched myself away from the residence. Lock’s voice tickled against my inner ear, good girl.

  Chapter Twenty:

  I marched back to the house where I found Gargoyle pacing the front. He perked up when he saw me approach.

  “Where did you go? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He appeared by my side, cupping my chin and holding it up so he could examine my face.

  “I’m fine… Sorry, I was bored. I just went for a walk.” I shook my head loose from his hold, finally glancing up at Gargoyle’s face. His brows were pinched with concern, “Seriously I’m fine. Where’s Damage?”

  He let out a frustrated growl, “I don’t know. I fear she’s gone to Miira to beg, but I don’t know for sure. Miira wants us dead, we are not safe there. We’re not safe anywhere. What makes things worse; I can’t contact the Wolf Reaper to arrange a trade, either.”

  “Why not?”

  “Mainly because I don’t know the first place to start searching for him. We used to have lanterns up in Heaven that acted like tracking devices. Without them, the Reapers are free to wander wherever they want.”

  “I would hate to suggest it, but maybe the Banished can help? I mean, he must know their whereabouts?”

  Gargoyle considered it for a moment, “Is he strong enough to talk?”

  “Oh!” I scoffed under my breath, “I think he’ll survive a few more words.”

  Gargoyle nodded before indicating to go inside. Once inside, he carefully placed me on the couch before he curled his hands around the chains and pulled Lock through the floorboards. Dragged up by his throat, he coughed and winced, gingerly placing his hand to his chest again.

  “Lock…” Gargoyle straightened his posture as he addressed the spirit. Lock turned over, snarling as usual.

  “Don’t just yank me like some dog, and I thought I told you I don’t go by that name!” He choked.

  “Where are the Reapers?”

  “Looking for a rematch?”

  “Don’t mess around with us; you are in no condition to fight.”

  “Us? By the looks of it, you’re all alone now. But, regardless I’m not here to fight.”

  “Tell us what we want to know!” Gargoyle yanked Lock up by his collar so he dangled in the air.

  Lock curled his lips into a scowl. “I don’t think you’re a natural red head.” Gargoyle rattled him, which only caused Lock to laugh, “Aw come on Gargoyle. We’ve done this dance before. You haven’t got the guts. You’re not like me…”

  “Last time a fellow Hunter wasn’t at stake. Now, I’ll repeat myself one more time. Where are the Reapers?” Lock gripped Gargoyle’s knuckles, his eyes burying into him as his internal debate raced across his mind.

  He twisted the corner of his lip into a lopsided grin, “Your mum’s house.” Gargoyle threw him to the ground. Lock’s body didn’t make a noise as he stumbled back. Now that I looked at him closely, his body seemed to be off balance, like he was constantly floating an inch or so from the ground.

  “Rachael you should leave, I don’t want you to watch.” Gargoyle muttered and I nodded my head quickly.

  “Won’t he just follow me?” I questioned.

  “Not while I hold him here.”

  Lock glanced over at me, then leaned forward like he was about to say something. He hesitated, closed his mouth, and leaned back smirking instead. “Don’t want to look ugly in front of her? You guys are nothing but pansies.” He mocked.

  Gargoyle snatched at his collar again, lifting him high enough that the pressure was uncomfortable around his throat. Lock kept his face a constant feral snarl. “There’s nothing stopping me from snapping you in half right here and now.”

  Lock rolled his eyes, “Yes there is. It’s called having no balls-”

  In a snap Gargoyle slammed one fist into the side of Lock’s head. Lock clenched his jaw to stop himself from wincing. He let his breath out in an irritated huff, “Why don’t you just do it already? You’re already a killer, what’s one more person? If it helps ease that conscience of yours, I would kill you if I had the chance.”

  Gargoyle crept forward, “I’m better than you.”

  Lock scoffed, “That’s the funny thing… you’re not. You smell just as repellent as I do. I’ve seen where you come from, who you really are. Gargoyle, the hybrid freak. It’s just so fitting.”

  Gargoyle punched him where the stab wound wept before dropping Lock to the ground, watching as he crumpled onto his knees choking back his pain. Lock’s rough voice growled from his throat, “You are so much like him, but you know that already, don’t you? That’s what you can’t stand about us Banished; you think cleaning us up will amend your own sorry damned soul. Next time I see daddy I’ll tell him his disappointment of a son says hi.”

  Lock cruelly smiled, his eyes gleaming with a touch of malice as Gargoyle buried his eyes deep into Lock’s gaze. Lock stiffened and clutched at his forehead, as if something was being drilled into his skull. Immediately Lock fell over, clutching at his head, hissing to stop himself from crying out. Not a moment later, he lashed out to break Gargoyle’s stare before sinking into shadows. Once released, Gargoyle let out a quivering breath and stumbled over. His hunched back faced me; and I tip toed up to him and gently placed my hands on his arms. He shrugged out of my grip.

  “Gargoyle, I…let’s talk about it” My voice was weak as he stormed towards the door, purposely keeping his gaze turned away from mine. He flipped the hood over his head and vanished into thin air.

  ***

  Day tipped over into night and the pain in my stomach was so unbearable I felt sick. I had scavenged the house for hours, only finding half a biscuit that had grown stale and brittle.

  “Just go and eat…” Lock’s voice dragged out from the shadows. He sat on the floor, one leg stretched out and the other drawn to his chest. He rested one arm across his knee as the other remained limp by his side and his head tilted back. His eyes were glaring forward; his face a concentrated frown like he had never had nice thoughts.

  I stopped my pacing and crossed my arms. “What you said earlier was really cruel…”

  Lock merely shrugged, not in a way that suggested he was uncomfortable, but in a manner that expressed he could not care less, “He deserved it.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t realise you and Gar-goy-le were so close.” He scrunched his face up distastefully.

  “He’s been a great friend to me.”

  Lock snorted, “Yeah, I’m sure.” He then lazily turned his head, “I really don’t like this, Rach; your whole… memory problem. It’s starting to mess with my mind too. I get it, your memory is blocked, but I thought once you saw me it would trigger it back.”

  “Well, it’s not; and there’s a good chance those memories aren’t ever going to come back.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah” He dismissed me with a flick of his wrist, like he had been lectured about this a million times be
fore. I turned around to head back to my room when he stopped me in the hallway, unfolding from the shadows. He looked at me carefully, running his eyes over my hair and face.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shhh!” He held his finger to my lips and I instinctively felt myself shuffle backwards until my back hit the wall. He towered over me as if trying to take the air I exhaled. He lifted his hand and ran it atop my head, skimming it till he hit the wall. A part of him slouched in mild relief, “I’m taller than you now.”

  “Lock, why don’t you want me to go back to the house?” I asked him. Lock’s eyes shifted back to mine, the moment of tenderness quickly overshadowed again.

  “The same reason why I don’t like being called Lock.”

  I exhaled heavily, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on here?”

  His lips twitched, “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.” My stomach gurgled as I quickly curled my arm around myself to ease the pain. “Go eat.” He ordered again in a sigh.

  “Eat what exactly? There’s nothing here!” I motioned to the kitchen before pulling my head back and noticed Lock’s sadistic smile. “What?” I cocked my eyebrow as Lock winked.

  “Let’s go for a walk....”

  Chapter Twenty-One:

  We were back at Whitehaven, the short trek through the forest enough to remind my body it was running on empty. It was roughly 9, and Lock motioned his chin forward, signalling towards a lone guy manning a hotdog stand. He flipped sausages with a pair of tongs, shifting from foot to foot to keep himself from freezing.

  Lock perked his brows at me. “What are you planning?” I whispered.

  “You said you were hungry?” He glanced back smirking, “I’m here to serve.”

  I looked back; it wasn’t exactly an empty area. He had taken us to the central park where teens littered the estate, mothers with prams walked around the hem of the gardens along the walk track and the hotdog man was stationed in the middle of them all.

  Within the span of a breath, Lock disappeared into a shimmering gust of ash, his fog like body shifted across the breeze. I stood back watching cautiously as he arrived at the vendor. Becoming visible, Lock summoned a small spiral of dark matter in his palm, which he toyed with and twisted around his fingers. Stretching it out in the shape of a stick, he stepped up to the man and proceeded to jab the stick at his hat. Swiftly, he knocked the hat off so it hit the ground; and once the man turned to snatch it, Lock blew it just beyond his reach. Lock pushed it along the pathway before flinging it upwards so it was hooked in one of the tree branches above their heads.

  The hotdog guy quickly found himself distracted playing piñata for his hat and Lock returned, presenting the now unattended cart with open arms. I shook my head no. He narrowed his brows, not understanding my hesitation. I motioned to all the other people with a stern look. Lock rolled his eyes, curling his lips into a devilish grin before shifting over towards the parked cars. Effortlessly, he got into the closest vehicle, unhooked the handbrake, and pushed the car into a downwards roll along the level road. I gasped as the bystanders all stopped to watch before a few men ran over to catch the runaway vehicle. Despite their best efforts, Lock kept the car at a constant and steady pace. Everyone swivelled to watch and I took my chance, feigning shocked interest before helping myself to two sausages and a burger from the cart. I took refuge underneath a nearby tree as Lock materialised next to me, his hands in his pockets and taking a deep bow.

  I couldn’t help but laugh in-between mouthfuls, “You really are a bad influence.” Lock beamed, incredibly pleased with himself.

  I scarfed down the food as if I hadn’t seen meat in years. Once my stomach settled and I cleared my mouth of any crumbs, I patted my stomach contentedly. Lock lounged next to me, a few steps over. We both sat with our backs against a tree, I faced the homes, whereas Lock occupied himself with trying to make the fallen leaves levitate in his palm.

  “Hey…” I said, coaxing him to drop his focus and glance over, “thanks for that.”

  He smiled weakly, “No problem. Can’t have your stomach grumbling all night, it would drive me insane.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Interact with earthly objects?”

  “Oh” He opened his palm and played with a very small ball of black smoke, “This is the energy that we collect from the darkness. It helps us make contact with things on this plane, though sometimes it’s really hard to control it. It can be dangerous; if I summon too much I could end up blowing up the object I wanted to interact with. Not enough obviously means I do nothing. I’m getting quite good at it though; it takes a bit of concentration, so sometimes I drop things by accident.”

  He turned away as I ambled over, angling my head to see him properly, “What are you?”

  Lock cocked his eyebrow, “I feel like this is a trick question.”

  “No, I mean sometimes I see it, the demon side - like how your eyes glow like they are fire and the whole shadow thing, but sometimes I don’t. Like now for instance. What are you?”

  “Gees, you want me to categorize it?” He sighed.

  “I’m interested. I mean is it like anything they say in the books?”

  Lock snorted, picking up the leaf again to spin in in his fingers, “Books huh? Like your fairytales? Like the supernatural craze hitting the bookshelves? Well, let’s see. I can’t be like a vampire; vampires are too romantic and melodramatic. Werewolves, on the other hand, are lustful creatures controlled by pure, dominant instinct. That’s surely not us. Demons, or should I say Banished, we’re…” He laughed and toyed with the leaf, speaking aloofly into the space ahead until his tone dropped with the weight of an unwanted thought.

  “Banished are…?” I urged.

  He shook his head, rattling the worry away and he looked as if surprised to see me there. He then lowered his gaze onto the leaf where he crushed it, “Imperfect.” He tipped his palm so the crumbs scattered to the floor. “Not exactly the best pick for a romantic lead.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, “Well, life isn’t a fairytale. You take what’s given to you.”

  “Exactly,” Lock then bit into his smile, “In the end you need to take control of life. Unlike fairytales, Angels are not going to win this time.”

  “Hmm…” I pursed my lips uncomfortably; I should’ve expected such an answer. I cupped my head in my hands, twisting my words over my tongue, “I was scared of you, you know. For a very long time I thought you were some sort of monster out to harvest my soul.”

  Lock chuckled weakly, “Well you’re not exactly wrong. Banished tend to take souls but…I never wanted you to be scared of me.”

  “That prank you played on me with James, for whatever reason you did it, it … it made my life hard. I just wanted a normal high school life full of first time experiences with boys, the graduation dance, a date at a movie, and being invited the cool kid parties, but I was constantly avoided like the plague.”

  “Being normal is overrated.”

  “It meant I was left out a lot, for instance our last valedictory dance I didn’t even have a partner. James had gone and no one was brave enough to risk taking on this ridiculous ‘curse’.”

  “So… you want a partner to dance with?” He asked with nervous laughter, “Such a girlie dream. Well I’m here if you need a partner?”

  I laughed, “With a demon? Thanks, but no thanks, plus,” I lifted my hand and waved it through his foggy body as it dispersed and rebuilt, “you can’t even touch me.”

  Lock licked his lips, smiling despite a persistent frown, “I can if I concentrate really hard.”

  “I rather not risk being blown up, thank you.”

  He smiled gently, “Point taken. I really didn’t want to make life hard for you, but when it comes to other men-”

  “Rachael.” Gargoyle approached us with a slight pant, shifting his eyes towards Lock who stiffened his posture. He then looked back at me, whispering, “I thought I told y
ou not to come into town…”

  “She was hungry.” Lock intervened, “I said it was okay”.

  Gargoyle pursed his lips, “I should’ve known it was your idea. You do not get a say in this, Banished! The only reason why you’re even here is so we can trade your sorry soul for Chaos. Don’t make me regret letting you live. Rach, head back before someone spots you.”

  “But Gargoyle-”

  He gave me one last fleeting look, “Please don’t fight me. I’ll restock the food and meet you back there. Please, this is serious. Go back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two:

  I went home like a teenager caught out past curfew. It was a quiet trek back, and once I got to the cottage I felt even more suffocated by the silence. Gargoyle finally returned home with minimum groceries - barely a loaf of bread, and some milk and cheese. He placed them on the table and retreated quickly before I could call him over. He moved in and out within a heartbeat, slamming the door as he left. Feeling the pinch of abandonment, I went looking for him outside. I had a torch with me, yet the moonlight was strong enough to keep the area bathed in light. Lock followed me to the door then stopped as I stepped out onto the grass.

  “Rachael, he’s a Hunter, believe me he’s fine. He’s probably just sulking because we didn’t obey his stupid rules” Lock jeered from the threshold, arms across his chest and his eyes a blaze amongst the gloom.

  “He’s been avoiding me a lot lately. I’m just worried.” I answered back before continuing. The leaves were slippery underneath my shoes, dampened from an earlier shower, while insects and birds kept at a constant chatter.

  “He doesn’t want to speak with you.” Lock said in a mild shout. I choose to ignore him. What does he know anyway? “Don’t you think it’s a bit dark to be wandering around?” He added.

  “You stay in the house then if you’re scared” I bickered back.