Tormenting the Dead
PART 1
Dennis Rafkin studied his surroundings, still not exactly sure of what he was doing in the great mansion. The walls were mostly made of cold brick, there was some marble, the floors all echoed eerily, and he soon discovered that none of the furniture was very comfortable. It was obvious that Cyrus Kriticos was not a very welcoming man and did not host company often. Dennis couldn't help but wonder what he could want with him.
He had an idea that it had something to do with his gift, talent, curse, whatever you want to call it. Being a known and powerful psychic had its perks, but it had also tormented Dennis almost everyday of his life. There were few days, even moments in his memory that were not filled with pain. Even as he sat in the rock hard chair awaiting the millionaire who had called him about a possible job, he was fighting back a headache caused by a ghostly encounter an hour before. Spirits truly were everywhere, he had simply walked into one while leaving his apartment building.
As the minutes ticked by Dennis wondered what Cyrus's proposal was. He had promised on the phone it would be something exciting, like an adventure he had said. Rafkin was no stranger to adventures, he had worked with the police several times, flawlessly finding killers and fugitives, the pay was horrible but the publicity brought on bigger things. The rich and powerful would pay any price to be able to speak to dead loved ones or have some glimpse into the life of the dead, and he could provide that for him. It would probably be no different for Cyrus Kriticos. Just then the door opened and in stepped his new employer.
"Mr. Rafkin, I presume." Kriticos was curt and to the point.
"Yeah, what can I do for you Mr. Kriticos?" Dennis asked. Cyrus hadn't offered his hand in greeting and he was thankful, he didn't feel like finding out everything about this man in one painful headrush, not just yet anyway.
"Before I explain the more intricate details of this job I wish to make sure you are exactly what I'm looking for. Therefore I would like to be able to test your abilities myself." Cyrus said, turning his back to Dennis as he walked over to a nearby cabinet.
"Everyone's a skeptic." Dennis muttered, "Look I have powers, or abilities, whatever you want to call them. I don't want them, but there they are. Take it or leave it."
"I have no doubt you have a talent in this field, my question is to what extent. Catch." Cyrus turned suddenly and threw something in Dennis's direction. A small plastic cap gun. He caught it without difficulty but immediately regretted it.
His body arked in pain as images rushed through his head:
A little boy watching TV, a mother and father yelling, the little boy in a cowboy outfit, blood, a friend with something to show off, pain, a real bow and arrows, a showdown, cowboys verses indians, cap gun verses a deadly weapon, pain, cowboys lose, the boy laying motionless blood flowing down his forehead where the arrow had gone through his skull.
"Ahh!" Dennis exclaimed as he pushed past the images and into reality, quickly throwing away the small toy.
"What did you see?" Cyrus asked immediately, showing no concern for Dennis, only curiousity about his visions.
"Why did you do that!? My god, there was a little boy he was killed by his friend with a damn bow and arrow!" Dennis sat down, clutching his head. He patted down his pockets and swore softly to himself, he was out of pills.
"Very good Mr. Rafkin, most of the others I've seen have been rather vague when it comes to specifics. It's always the same story; pain, a young man, so young, great pain, a horrible accident. No one ever says much else." Cyrus explained, pleased with Dennis's abilities.
"I think you'll find I'm a rare breed." It was true, most people with Dennis's level of abilities weren't able to handle the pain and seclusion and took their own lives at young ages. But Dennis was a survivor, he was determined to live and had accepted his gift long ago.
"You most certainly are. You're hired." Cyrus announced suddenly and headed for the door.
"Wait, I didn't say I accepted. You haven't even told me the job." Dennis said, following the man a few steps.
"Oh, you'll accept, I need you. You'll be well paid, more so than you could ever imagine. Be here at eight o'clock tomorrow evening, I'll tell you everything you need to know. Until then Mr. Rafkin." And then he was gone.
"Call me Dennis." He muttered to himself when he was alone and then showed himself out. But he'd be back the next night. He normally wouldn't have accepted such a job but Cyrus Kriticos was one of the few men who would actually be able to pay what he promised. If Dennis could get enough from him he could retire from the soul searching business and try to live a normal, sane life, and find the place in the world with the lowest spiritual population.
I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe I'm doing this ... It echoed through Dennis's head like a horrible mantra. He had gone back to Cyrus's house the next night and had been told the details of his job.
They were going to capture ghosts. Capture ghosts! Twelve to be exact.
Dennis had known for a long time that ghosts existed, had never really had a chance in his life to doubt it, but to actually capture one was unheard of. But Cyrus seemed to be serious, he had men, he had money, he had cages, equipment, locations, everything. He didn't know what the ghosts were for or why only twelve, but it wasn't to be his job to ask, in fact he was being paid not to. But oh how he was being paid. It was more than Dennis had imagined, he could definitely retire after this, that was the only reason he agreed to do it. What had captivated him were the barrier spells in the boxes. Cyrus had explained them to him at length, knowing that Dennis would need to understand everything if he were to help them. He understood completely and it made sense, but he didn't like it. Then again, he didn't have to like it, he just had to do it.
So here he was, Dennis Rafkin, psychic, out in the middle of the night at an archery field, with dozens of men hired for the same reason as him, ghost hunting. He felt kind of stupid.
Cyrus had also provided him with a special pair of glasses, he said he could see the wraiths with them. He was skeptical but wore them anyway. Dennis was getting strong vibes from the area and could feel the horrible migraines returning. He reached into his pocket and clasped his pill bottle he was about to swallow a few as a precaution but Cyrus came over. He put the pills away, they disoriented him and he knew it wasn't a good time to be anything less than completely focussed.
"Are you ready Mr. Rafkin?" Cyrus asked, anticipation coating his voice.
"Depends on your definition of ready. Getting a really bad feeling about this, yes. Ready, no." Dennis admitted, constantly looking over his shoulder, suddenly feeling paranoid.
"Either way you're going in there to help me find that ghost. I would also like you to meet Jessica Cairn, she'll be assisting you if necessary." Jessica was young, about Dennis's age, pretty and had bright blue eyes and dark brown hair that came to her shoulders. Dennis was never very impressed with women, he could never be with anyone afterall. He had learned at a young age that he could never touch anyone without pain, or images of their life passing before him and that made intimacy with a woman impossible. It was sad and very isolating, but that was his life, it wasn't supposed to be fair. Was it?
"I really don't ..." Before Dennis could finish his thought Jessica grabbed his hand and shook it eagerly.
"I'm happy to be working with you Mr. Rafkin, I've heard about everything you've done. I have psychic abilities myself, that's why Mr. Kriticos hired me but I couldn't help him as much as he needed, so he came to you. I'll be happy to help you any way I can. The spiritual energy is very intense in this area, but I'm sure you can feel that already." Dennis thought she was the most perfect woman he'd ever seen, Jessica spoke very fast, and was very eager and cheerful, but that wasn't why he adored her already.
She was shaking his hand and there was nothing, absolutely nothing. No images of pain, or even joy, no overwhelming emotions or thoughts, there was just quiet. He stared down at their hands, not believing it was true. Suddenly Cyrus broke him from his thoughts of joy.
"Shall we begin Mr. Rafkin?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, let's go." Dennis said, never releasing Jessica's hand. They began to make their way around the archery field, Cyrus's men followed along behind, two more waited in the truck carrying the cage for the ghost. It was a universal irony that the boy was haunting the archery fields, three people had been accidently shot and killed in the last week. But Dennis no longer cared, he only had eyes for Jessica.
"You're psychic too, is that why I can't link to you?" Dennis had to ask.
"Yes, I'm more of a mind psychic, reading thoughts and stuff, but to read thoughts you have to be able to block out your own. I can open my mind if you really want me to." Jessica offered, not completely understanding Dennis's immediate closeness.
"No, don't do that!" Dennis tore his hand away from hers, just in case she dropped them anyway.
"Okay. It's okay." Jessica soothed, taking his hand in her own once more. He was like a fragile child in some ways, but clearly very strong in others.
"Mr. Rafkin, the sooner you do your job the sooner you may leave for whatever activities you wish." Cyrus was losing patience.
"Right, right." Dennis reluctantly released Jessica's hand and walked away from the group. He stood for a moment by himself in the middle of an open field and got a feel for the area. Then he walked over to one of the archery targets and placed his hand on the center.
Pain, an arrow flying through the sky unchallenged, the boy, a target, a body, blood, fear, revenge, another arrow, another body, cowboys must win, indians must die, another body, pain, a favorite place.
Dennis moaned in agony as the images flew by, Jessica was by his side in a moment, suddenly frantic. She never experienced physical pain while linking, and didn't know anyone who did.
"What's wrong? Dennis, are you hurt?" She pulled his arm and dragged him from the target.
Dennis fell to his knees and gasped for breath, for the moment he ignored her and the pain, he was used to it by now. He locked eyes with Cyrus and pointed towards a small crop of trees at the edge of the field.
"He's over there, he likes to watch from over there." Dennis explained, gasping.
"Excellent, this way." Cyrus led his men across the field with Dennis and Jessica not far behind.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Jessica asked once more.
"I'll be fine," Dennis said, taking two of his meds, "That always happens."
"It must be horrible." Jessica commented. No sooner had the words left her mouth than Dennis spasmed in pain once more, nearly falling again. The boy was close, very close, and there was definitely pain.
"Cyrus, he's close!" Dennis yelled.
"I know." Cyrus was practically giddy.
Dennis looked up, past Cyrus. There he was. The first ghost.
"Meet, The First Born Child."
PART 2
Dennis had never seen a ghost before. He had felt them and connected with a few but the images were always fleeting at best and an entire view was practically impossible. But there he was before him, The First Born Son, Billy Michaels. It was the same boy he had seen from the vision he had experienced when Cyrus pushed that gun on him. He looked exactly as he had when he died. His hatchet was gripped tightly in his right hand, his indian feather was forever strapped to his head, and blood oozed motionlessly down his forehead. The boy smiled when he realized they could see him; it was time to play.
"Oh my god." Jessica whispered to herself. She quickly took off her glasses; nothing. Replacing them on her face she saw the boy in the same spot. "Maybe we can talk to him." She said, taking slow steps forward. Being psychically able to read people's thoughts that was her first instinct, but it wasn't one she should follow.
"I don't think that's what we're here for." Dennis said, pulling her back.
"Get the cage ready, start the machine." Cyrus called out.
Behind them the truck stopped and the cage was lowered and opened, it stood on wheels so it could be easily moved if necessary to catch their ghost. The recorded incantations began to play, summoning the boy; these spells were a calling, they couldn't bring the ghost directly into the cage but they kept him from leaving the area, and he had to do as the spells said. All eyes were diverted from the boy for only a split second as everything was set up, in that time their First Born Son disappeared.
"Where did he go?" Cyrus demanded, fuming that they had lost sight of their captive. The wind blew soundlessly and the moonlit sky only added to the tension in the area. It seemed as though it was a good night for hunting the dead.
Dennis clutched his head suddenly as a vision passed before his eyes. He pointed towards the shooting fields, "He's over there. He thinks it's a god damn game!"
"Well then, let's show him how to play." Cyrus was truly enjoying himself now, "Louder!" The spells increased and everyone's eyes scoured the field for their supernatural prey.
Dennis and Jessica both gasped suddenly as images raced through both their minds; they were receiving the same psychic message. It was a warning.
Screams of pain. Blood. Targets. Arrows rapidly flying through the air.
"Look out!" Jessica yelled, dropping to the ground, taking Dennis along with her.
Cyrus and a few of the men around her listened and followed suit but the others were unable to hear her over the playback of the incantations. The sky was suddenly filled with arrows all aimed at them. Dennis heard someone scream and looked up to see one of Cyrus's men stagger a few steps and then fall to the ground, a dark shaft of wood piercing his back. Dennis could only stare as the man died before his very eyes, it was horrifying, but unfortunately he had seen worse.
"Oh my god, this is insane." Dennis commented, rising to his feet and dragging Jessica along to take cover behind a tree.
"Bring the cage closer." Cyrus shouted, uncaring about the arrows flying around them. He was literally walking towards the face of death, and he was as calm as if he was taking a Sunday stroll.
"He's mad." Jessica said, chancing a look from behind their cover.
"Damn right." Dennis agreed.
Cyrus strode purposefully towards the center of the field, showing no fear. The arrows abrubtly died away and Kriticos was left alone in the field, yet strangely not alone. The wind blew softly, slightly ruffling his coat. It was then that Dennis noticed the holster.
"He's gonna challenge him to a duel? You gotta be kidding me."
"He is crazy after all." Jessica said, not really believing it before.
Cyrus smiled as his prey came out from hiding and faced him from across the field, the boy smiled too while floating several feet above the ground. The millionaire pulled back the tails of his coat, revealing a holster on either side of his hips. This seemed to please the boy even more as they both moved into defensive stances. The two combatants stood at the ready, fingers twitching millimeters above their weapons, silently waiting for the unspoken moment to draw. Tense seconds passed and neither ghost nor man had broken the other's gaze. Suddenly Cyrus's face broke out into an even greater smile.
"Now!" He called excitedly.
Dennis looked out just in time to see the cage be pushed around the apparition, and then closed, sealing in their ghostly friend. But before the doors could close a single arrow sailed through the air directly towards Cyrus. He jumped out of the way but could feel the breeze from the arrow against his scalp.
Dennis hadn't seen the men sneaking up behind the ghost and knew the boy hadn't been ready for it either. He watched amazed as the ghost pounded on the walls of his prison, desperately trying to break through the barrier spells. His malicious grin was quickly replaced with hatred and outrage.
"Excellent." Cyrus whispered brushing himself off as he stood, now intent on getting a closer look at his capture he made his way across the field. When he reached the cage he put his hands up to the glass, his features were in absolute awe. The boy held his gaze once more, perhaps trying to frighten him to death, it didn't work. Cyrus reached down to one of his holsters, pulling out the boy's own small toy gun. "Look familiar?" He asked tauntingly.
"I can't believe it frigging worked." Dennis said, dumbfounded as he came out from behind the tree when he felt all was safe.
"Isn't he magnificent, Mr. Rafkin?" Cyrus asked as his psychics approached.
"That wouldn't be my exact choice of words." Dennis said. The boy looked at him and caught his gaze as well, but unlike Cyrus he could hurt Dennis from where he was. Dennis reeled suddenly as the ghost connected to him psychically, nearly causing his head to split open in pain.
"Ahh! Son of a bitch!" Dennis exclaimed, gasping and stumbling away from the cage, distancing himself from the apparition's touch.
"Fiesty young man isn't he?" Cyrus said, amused.
"Whatever. Look, you got your ghost, I'm still in shock about it, but you got him. So I'm out of here, like right now!" Dennis exclaimed, already on his way out of the field.
"Of course, my men and I will take care of things from here. You've been a great help. See you tomorrow night." Cyrus called back cheerfully.
"Tomorrow?!" Dennis had had enough of this to last him years.
"Yes, I did contract you for the capturing of twelve ghosts, and I assure you I want them as quickly as possible."
Dennis could only watch helplessly as Cyrus turned and walked away, clearly ending the conversation.
"Come on, there's no reason for us to stick around." Jessica said, taking Dennis's hand to lead him. He followed without thinking, grasping her hand tighter. He had actually forgotten how wonderful it was to be able to take comfort in another's person touch. Had never actually known, to be honest. But he found he liked it.
"Yeah, we should get out of here."
Tomorrow would be a very busy night.
One down, eleven to go.
PART 3
Dennis Rafkin couldn't believe how much his life had changed in only a week. His normally pain-filled and secluded life had been thrown out the window by his latest, and hopefully last, employer, Cyrus Kriticos. A normal week for Dennis was once going to the home of some rich old bag who wanted to communicate with her long dead son or husband. He would humor them for a time, make a painful connection, tell them what they want to know, and then go home somewhat richer and avoid as many living, and dead, beings as possible.
But now he was spending his nights in dark, bone-chilling places, filled with spiritual energy, capturing ghosts. And his days were spent with the wonderful, magnificent, amazing, Jessica. She was perfect in all ways that mattered. She was smart, funny, pretty, and best of all Dennis could touch her. There was no pain with Jessica, only contentment. Dennis supposed that the two matters equalled each other out, good for bad. But he could always be happy knowing that eventually all the ghosts would be captured, and after that happened, Jessica would still be there.
"Do hurry up Dennis, I would like to capture all my ghosts before I myself end up in the grave." Cyrus called back from his position at the head of the group. Dennis had been lost in thought but quickly snapped out of it. Easily catching up, Dennis followed Cyrus into the high school auditorium; it was time to capture the third ghost.
They had already captured The First Born Child and The Torso. The latter of which still caused chills to creep down Dennis's spine when he thought about it. Two nights ago they had travelled to a dark, damp woods by a lakeside cabin. It had been an awful night just to be outside, and Dennis hated to think of what they had been after. The Torso had been a far less dangerous ghost than The First Born Child. Being unable to attack or even know what was going on around it. It had been Dennis's job to help locate the different pieces of the poor soul, which were scattered around the woods. It took three hours to find all of him. After the first hour or so it became obvious Jessica wouldn't be needed that night, and Dennis was anxious to allow her to leave the gory woods. They were sure to meet up later at Dennis's apartment. After the capture they had put the pieces in the same containment cube, allowing the ghost to rearrange himself if he wished.
The sight and memory of the ghost was still tormenting Dennis, it was easier than the first capture, but by far more gruesome and straining. No sooner would he find the spirit's leg than he was ordered to locate an arm or even the head. It had been a long night to say the least.
But it was over now. He had been granted a night away from ghost hunting while Cyrus tracked down his third ghost; The Bound Woman. She had shown up in at a small-town high school dance. Boys were ripped out of their dates' arms and hurled into walls, and thrown through tables. None of the girls were touched but all had quickly fled from the dance. Dennis didn't know how Cyrus could be so sure this was their ghost, but once again, he didn't ask any questions.
As he passed through the auditorium doors he spotted Jessica, speaking seriously with Cyrus. She turned and saw him and smiled. A smile which soon faded as Cyrus said something to her, and she became serious once more. Dennis walked over to them.
"So, what's the deal with this one?" Dennis asked. He tried hard not to think of the ghosts as people, or living things. It made the job easier. But knowing their backstory sometimes helped with the capturing; he had learned that the first night while capturing The First Born Child.
"The Bound Woman: Charlotte Blanche. Very pretty girl who loved getting the attention of the males around her. Loved it a little too much unfortunately. On the night of her prom her date found her in the arms of another man. He tied her up, killed her, and buried her in the school football field. She hasn't been much of a fan of men or school dances ever since." Cyrus explained, deepening his voice and taking far too much enjoyment out of relaying the tale of the soul's demise.
"Great. Well, I don't sense her in here. If she is still around she must be somewhere else in the school." Dennis said, but still scoured the auditorium while wearing the spectral glasses.
"She's still here, I can feel her. But she's not around her, she may be upstairs." Jessica offered, trying to help.
"We'll have to call her down here then. I don't feel like hauling the containment cubes up any flights of stairs." Cyrus said thoughtfully. His men were just finishing bringing in the cage and the playback machine into the auditorium. The room was rather large and had been cleared out for the dance, which hadn't been cleaned up yet. There were tables and chairs stacked up against the walls, there was a stage across from the main doors and from there several other doorways leading to different sections of the school.
But something was wrong, Dennis could feel it. His psychic powers laid mainly in sensing ghosts and wraiths, but every now and then he would catch a glimpse of the future, his future. And he knew what he saw there he could never change. He had seen his mother's death, himself in a car crash that had happened several years earlier, and he had even seen himself meeting Cyrus. Now, he was seeing something again. He closed his eyes as the pictures rolled by.
The auditorium, people screaming, men running, The Bound Woman chasing him, tables falling, blood.
The glimpses of the future never brought pain, but he moaned nonetheless.
"Dennis, what's wrong?" Jessica asked, but already knew he had felt something psychically.
"I don't know, it wasn't clear enough. I couldn't make anything out." Dennis nearly whispered, keeping his eyes closed as he played back the images in his mind.
"Is she coming?" Cyrus asked sternly. If the ghost were to appear suddenly they wouldn't be ready yet.
"What? No, I don't think so. Not yet." Dennis said, a little dazed.
"Good." Cyrus walked away to bark orders at his men, "Is the cube ready? Then what are you waiting for? Get it into position." He walked over to the playback machine and made a few adjustments to the incantations, making sure they said what he wanted. "That's better. Now, let's catch our ghost." He pressed play and the spells sounded, loud and clear in the echoes for all to hear.
Everyone waited tensely, they were beginning to become accustomed to the routine of ghost hunting and they all knew hell would strike soon. Dennis had the urge to take Jessica's hand and keep her close, he had a bad feeling about this ghost. Pain flared through his mind along with images of spiritual unrest. Without thinking he spun around and pointed to the ceiling.
"There!" Dennis yelled, catching Cyrus and the rest of the men's attention. The Bound Woman came floating through the ceiling before them all, floating eerily in the center of the gym. She was only eighteen in appearance, but her once beautiful brown hair was ragged and trapped around her neck by a coil of rope that had probably strangled her to death. She stood there, silent and solemn for a few moments, and then without warning, she attacked. Moving almost instantaneously she appeared behind a group of three men. She took one by the neck and threw him across the room, proving she was strong despite her timid size.
The other two would not be so easily taken though. They immediately brought forth two quantum flares that startled the ghost.
"Quick, get her into the cube." Cyrus yelled, from his position atop the ghostly prison. Maneuvering quickly the men tried to back her into the cage but she wouldn't be caught yet. The Bound Woman flew back, purposely knocking down the tables behind her and sending them crashing onto the two men. They tried to run but were trapped underneath.
Dennis stood frozen for a moment then clutched Jessica's hand and began to run, "We gotta get out of here." He knew they wouldn't possibly be safe trapped inside a building with a ghost. For a human there would be no escape guess what that refers to. The couple raced along the other side of the auditorium, intent on escape. Cyrus and his men could catch the ghost themselves. Just as they reached the containment cube disaster struck.
The Bound Woman had been watching Dennis and Jessica. She had seen Dennis pulling Jessica along roughly and had decided that he must have been hurting her, and needed to pay. She flew towards them. Suddenly, Jessica fell to the floor, losing Dennis's grip as she fell.
Dennis stopped and turned around, "Jessica, come on!" He looked up just in time to see The Bound Woman flying towards him. He ducked and ran, instincts taking over. But the ghost had other plans. She flew into the opposite pile of heavy, metal tables, and knocked them down, attempting to hit Dennis. The psychic was able to move out of the way for the most part, one of the tables grazed his back and knocked him down, but he avoided the avalanche.
As he gasped for breath he lit up a flare he found nearby, it was only after it was lit that he registered the scream. The loud, horrible, ear- piercing scream that shattered Dennis's heart and crushed his soul. There was only one, it was shrill and horrified, and had belonged to Jessica. She had been caught in the middle of the crash of tables. He could see her now, unmoving and lifeless under the twisted mass of metal and wood.
"No!"
Tears pricked at his eyes but his instinctual need for vengeance won out over sorrow. His eyes sought out the ghost he had been trying to capture, that he now only wanted to kill once more. It was flying away now, toward Cyrus and his men.
Dennis got to his feet and screamed, "You bitch!" Then he hurled the flare through the air with all his strength. The ghost turned and saw it. She vanished quickly to avoid the flame and reappeared several feet away ... right inside the containment cube. The doors slammed with an air of finality, and The Bound Woman was added to Cyrus's collection.
"Well done, Dennis." Cyrus exclaimed cheerfully as he approached his psychic after taking in the sight of his captured speciman.
Dennis didn't even turn around. He was busy clearing away the tables that were trapping the one woman he could touch, the one woman he could love. He moved the last table and knelt beside his motionless, silent beauty. Her eyes were open but the life was gone and blood was pooling around her body. Tears streaked down Dennis's face, she was already gone, he could no longer sense her soul.
"What a shame." Cyrus said from behind, but clearly thought little about the girl, "I am sorry Dennis." It was false sentiment, but it didn't matter. Dennis didn't care about Cyrus.
For his part Kriticos was too happy with his latest prize to be upset. He turned around and strolled back to his men, leaving Dennis alone with his grief. So very alone.
Rafkin rocked himself back and forth, trying to keep his sanity. But with life being so insane it was very hard to do. As he sat by his dead love he thought, ghosts weren't people. They weren't human, never were. They only existed to cause pain, especially to him. And it had to stop. He would make it stop. His friend, Cyrus, he could make it stop. He had the equipment, the power, the motivation. Yes, together he and Cyrus would stop all of them, keep this from ever happening again. The ghosts had to pay, whether they were living in eternal damnation or not, they had to pay.
Dennis Rafkin had just received a new outlook on life. And it would not be a good omen for his future.
PART 4
Two days, twelve hours, forty-three minutes. That's how long it had been since Jessica died, and there was Dennis, back out with Cyrus helping to catch another ghost. Trying to exact revenge for the love he lost. He had spent the last two days locked away in his apartment trying to get flashes of Jessica from the objects around him, but he had been unable to connect with her in any way. During that time his anger and hatred towards the souls that had stolen her away had grown, and those feelings of contempt had quickly taken over Dennis. He had once blamed the unfairness of life for the gift he was given regarding his psychic powers, but right now he blamed only the unearthly spirits that were causing him pain. He felt as though his soul had been ripped from him, so he saw no reason why he shouldn't rip a few souls back in return.
Tonight they were catching The Withered Lover. Dennis hadn't asked for her backstory and Cyrus hadn't offered one. All he knew was her name was Gene and she died in a fire. Not a good way to die, Dennis knew, but neither did he care. She was dead and he would catch her.
They were driving to the location now. Dennis had been lost in thought the entire night and only now asked where it was they were going.
"St. Luke's hospital. It's where she died, not too long ago. She should still be around." Cyrus replied curtly.
Dennis just nodded. He couldn't help but wonder how Cyrus planned on capturing the ghost with all those people around. St. Luke's was a busy place, but as was his job, he didn't ask questions. They arrived shortly afterwards. Cyrus's men were already there setting up the containment cube and playback machine. It was only when they pulled directly into the emergency lane that Dennis realized something was wrong. Looking out the window he couldn't believe his eyes; the entire hospital was deserted.
There were no lights on, the doors were locked, and there wasn't a soul in sight, living or dead, other than Cyrus and his men. Dennis knew that Kriticos was rich and had a lot of power, but to be able to get an entire hospital evacuated for his own personal gain was something he hadn't imagined. He quickly realized that Cyrus had either lied or bribed to get what he wanted. It wouldn't have been hard for him to make up some excuse why the hospital would need to be closed, asbestos or something. But it also would be very easy for him to offer to build a new wing or buy the latest equipment for them in exchange for closing the hospital for one night. Dennis knew money was power and it suited their needs nicely, but he also felt slightly sick.
"Come on Dennis, I'm not paying you for nothing. Get a move on!" Cyrus seemed to be always yelling at Dennis for something, but he thought it was just Cyrus's way of getting things done. He hadn't seen Cyrus interact with anyone he truly seemed to like, except for his ghosts. But the wealthy philanthropist didn't seem as hostile towards Dennis as he once did, Cyrus was actually quite pleased with how well Dennis was performing. He had been vital in every capture so far, but needed to make sure he stayed in line.
Dennis hurriedly got out of the car and followed Cyrus into the building. Hospitals always gave him the creeps, but he wasn't about to tell Cyrus that. The moment he stepped through the door he was thrown back by the intensity of spiritual energy the place gave off. He bit his lip to keep back the cry of pain that the hospital was causing.
"Is she here?" Cyrus asked, noticing the lines of agony in Dennis's expression.
Dennis clutched his head, "Maybe. It's pretty hard to tell when the whole building is full of disgruntled spirits! You can take your pick, there's like fifty ghosts here!"
"No, I want her specifically. I need to know if she's still here." Cyrus spoke through clenched teeth. He reached into his pocket and hauled out a picture, slightly bent and somewhat singed. There were two children, a boy and a girl, and also a husband and wife. Cyrus held out the picture to Dennis, "Here, now find her."
Dennis just looked at the picture for a moment. The family looked so happy together, and so normal. They didn't look like any of them should be involved in something like this, living or dead. He couldn't help but feel that he was breaking up a family.
"You didn't say she had a family." Dennis said accusingly, not reaching for the picture.
Cyrus pushed it closer to him, "Exactly, she had a family. She's dead now so it hardly matters does it? Jessica had a family too, do you think the ghosts care about that?" Cyrus knew it was a low blow, but didn't particularly care. He needed Dennis's cooperation, and that remark would do it.
Dennis's face hardened and images of Jessica crushed underneath piles of tables came back to him. Without another word he took the picture from Cyrus and crushed it beneath his palms.
Fire, a family, Christmas, pain, love, children, fire, sorrow, loss, love, a hospital room, a doctor, fire trucks, misery, love, loss.
Dennis gasped. That had sucked. The family's love had been so strong, so infinite. This ghost wasn't staying in this plain because it had lived a life of torment, the love of its family was keeping it on Earth.
"Well, is she here?" Cyrus asked impatiently.
"Yeah, she is." He replied quietly, sorrowfully.
"In that case we better move upstairs. If she is still here she's probably in the ward for burn victims. I hear it's a horrible way to die." Cyrus commented, then shouted orders for the cube to be brought to the fourth floor. While Cyrus and his men loaded up the elevators Dennis held back a step. Quickly turning away from the group he downed four or five of his medication pills. This place was giving him a major and constant headache, which he didn't need at the moment.
They reached the fourth floor and Cyrus moved his men into the largest room he could find. All the rooms were cleared out, no beds or equipment anywhere, so it was easy to maneuver the containment cube.
Dennis felt a flash of pain, somehow less intense than usual. He also connected with the ghost; love and loss. Those were the feelings he got from the spirit. He understood completely, but was in so much pain emotionally it was hard for him to care about anyone else.
"She's here, on this floor at least." Dennis told Cyrus.
When the cube was ready the incantations were played, on Cyrus's command. "I wouldn't worry yourself Dennis, this capture should prove to be less straining than our previous ones. I have a feeling our Withered Lover won't resist at all."
As if on cue she suddenly appeared before them. Her face was scarred on one side, and she was still dressed in her hospital garments. She began to stride towards them slowly. Dennis was surprised, she wasn't angry or hate-filled like every other ghost they had met. Her expression held curiousity, and something else he couldn't describe.
Cyrus rubbed his hands together greedily, "Excellent. Get around her, and open the cage." He ordered. Several men moved behind the ghost slowly while others stood ready with the cube.
The Withered Lover just watched them, not understanding why she had been summoned to them. Then she saw Cyrus coming towards her with the cage, noticed the men behind her, saw the pained and regretful expression on Dennis's face, and knew something was wrong. She tried to leave but was confined to the room by the spells, she tried to back away but the men behind her brandished quicksilver flares and she couldn't pass. In fact, they came closer and closer, forcing her back step by step. She knew she was being pushed into the cage, but couldn't fight back. She didn't want to hurt anyone. It was only when the cage doors snapped around her that she regretted her choice.
Dennis couldn't believe it. She had been afraid of them. Not just afraid, terrified. That had never happened before. She hadn't fought back or tried to escape like any of the other ghosts, she hadn't gone on a ballistic killing spree or thrown everyone around the room. She had simply backed into the cube without resistance. It felt wrong.
Cyrus brought his hand to the glass and looked into the eyes of his sister-in-law. He had met her only in death, but he thought she was beautiful. Dennis joined him at the cage and looked in on her as well. She looked so sad, her eyes held so much pain that he thought they might be a reflection of his own. The spirit hadn't fought earlier but she now scratched futilely at the walls, trying to escape. She pleaded with her eyes for them to let her go, she needed to be free, needed to watch over her family.
Dennis watched her with a detached curiousity, and he felt himself unwilllingly thinking of these ghosts as people. People who had once lived just like him. He quickly pushed those thoughts aside, they wouldn't do him any good. Besides, they all had to be captured, every last spirit, wraith, and ghost, to make sure they wouldn't hurt anyone. Not ever again. But still he couldn't pull his gaze away from their Withered Lover.
She continued pleading silently as she scratched at the walls. Then she saw Dennis and had an idea. She reached out for him psychically, she didn't want to hurt him, but it was the only way.
Dennis reeled in pain and fell to his knees as images cascaded through his mind.
A family, love, a fire, pain, family, love, home, protection, need to protect them, a family, eternal love.
He gasped for breath for a moment and made no move to get up from his position on the floor. The pain of loss he had felt in the ghost, combined with his own were proving too much for him. He was breaking down quickly, and finding it harder and harder to function or care about anything.
"Did you see anything?" Cyrus asked curiously.
Dennis lifted his gaze, tears brimming his eyes, "No, nothing. Just hurt like a bitch." He said, wiping away the shameful tears. He wouldn't tell Cyrus what he saw, he kept it to himself. The pain of the entire experience was becoming too much though. In a desperate attempt to free himself, if only for a while, Dennis swallowed several more pain medications. When he looked up he saw Cyrus's men moving the cage away. He looked at the ghost once more, Gene. No, just a ghost, he thought. She was still pleading but would not purposely cause him any more pain. He couldn't free her even if he wanted to, which he did. Cyrus would never allow it.
As Dennis watched her being hauled away Cyrus came and stood by him, "The easiest capture yet." He commented.
Dennis said nothing. He couldn't get the image of her sorrowful, pain-filled eyes out of his head. But he did acknowledge that Cyrus was wrong. This hadn't been the easiest capture, in many ways, mentally and emotionally, it had been the most grueling. He was actually hoping that the Torn Prince would be dangerous and challenging, he didn't think he could handle anymore feelings of guilt over capturing innocent ghosts. But was it right for him to declare himself judge, jury, and executioner of these people? He didn't even want to think about the answer to that. An answer he knew all too well.
PART 5
Dennis stood outside his apartment building, pacing impatiently. Cyrus had said that he'd be picking him up tonight, so Dennis waited anxiously for his employer, already wanting the night to be over. He was edgy and paranoid lately, more so than usual. His normally haunted dreams had been strangely calm and eerie last night as he dreamed of the Withered Lover. He awoke with an overwhelming sensation of guilt, and idly wondered if captured ghosts could still haunt people's dreams.
A shiny red sportscar pulled up to the building, knocking Dennis free from his train of thoughts. He had never seen the car before and wondered who owned it. To say he was surprised when Cyrus Kriticos stepped out of the vehicle was quite an understatement.
"What's with the shiny wheels?" Dennis asked, knowing nothing about cars he had no idea what Cyrus was driving around in, but it looked impressive.
"Just a small ploy to bring our next ghost out in the open. He was quite a car fanatic." Cyrus explained, moving into the backseat and motioning for Dennis to follow. He did so without question, eyeing the driver in front.
"So, which one of Casper's friends are we catching tonight?" Dennis asked once they were on their way.
Cyrus, who was not amused, answered, "The Torn Prince. A high school jock whose pride wouldn't let him turn down a challenge to a drag race. He would have been better scraping up his shattered dignity in the end."
"But then you wouldn't get your ghost." Dennis pointed out, staring out the window.
"Too true, it's a good thing for us that he accelerated when he should have braked." Cyrus's lips curved slightly. Dennis just nodded and looked out the window. They eventually stopped at the side of the road on a turnoff, Dennis first thought something might have broken down but then remembered the ghost liked car racing and knew they were in the right spot. Dennis thought he recognized the place but couldn't be sure. He got out and started walking around, trying to figure out where they were. Tonight he didn't feel like talking or even interacting with anyone. His heart hurt from Jessica and he couldn't get the image of Gene's eyes out of his head. They were so sad and pleading, and all because of him.
He stood alone on the sidewalk and stared ahead as the men behind him prepared the immense machines and equipment they needed. The road they were on was dangerous, it zigged and zagged and they had pulled over just around an extremely sharp turn that went around a huge hill. After a few minutes Cyrus approached him impatiently.
"Dennis, we're almost ready, quit standing around." Cyrus ordered, then turned back to his precious containment cube. Dennis sighed and walked back to him.
"I'm not getting anything Cyrus, I don't think he's around." Dennis said, knowing it was not what the man wanted to hear.
"If he's not here now, he's been here recently. There was a four car pile up here five days ago, nobody knows what happened. I know for a fact that it was our Torn Prince." Cyrus reached into his pocket, "I need to know where he is." He tossed a set of car keys toward Dennis.
Dennis caught them and spasmed as images flashed through his mind, Cars, girls, sports, gotta be the best, sharp turn, speed it up, he's slowing down, crash, fire, I lost, everyone loses, no one can make that turn, crash after crash, death after death.
Dennis dropped the keys and gasped for breath. "Oh god, a lot of people have died here."
"Yes, they have. Now where is he?" Cyrus demanded.
Dennis continued to draw in deep breaths, "No, I mean more people are gonna die if we don't get out of here. He's ..." He never finished his sentence.
The sound of squealing tires suddenly hit everyone's ears. They looked up in time to see a black car come flying around the corner at top speed. It headed straight for the group of men and machines and as it sped closer Dennis saw that it had no driver.
Cyrus's men scattered everywhere. The car ploughed one of them down, crushing him beneath the wheels. Then the vehicle stopped, reversed, and ran the man over again. As everyone ran for protection the car did figure eights in the road and then stopped, setting its sight on a new target.
Dennis and Cyrus were beside Cyrus's new sportscar, watching the carnage. Suddenly Dennis got a flash and closed his eyes to see it better. An explosion, a big one. Looking at the driverless car in the road, revving its engine, Dennis knew what was going to happen. He grabbed Cyrus's arm and pulled him back behind the car.
"We gotta move!" He shouted, practically throwing Cyrus to the ground as he crouched down and covered his head with his arms. No sooner had he gotten to cover than the black car sped forward and slammed into one of Cyrus's trucks. The truck and car were totalled and both burst into flames. Dennis looked up to see flaming wreckage where he and Cyrus had been only moments before.
"Thank you Dennis," Cyrus said almost sincerely as he got up and dusted himself off.
One of Cyrus's men approached and reported, "The playback machine's destroyed. Unless he stays willingly there's no way to keep the ghost here or from hurting anyone else."
Cyrus was more agitated than scared, "Damn it, we need him tonight."
Dennis wasn't worried about the ghost leaving, he wished it would, he was worried about it killing everyone before it decided to leave. He knew something had to be done before the Torn Prince tore up a few more people. He got up and took a deep breath, finding he had courage hidden away somewhere. Yelling to Cyrus he jumped into the sportscar, "Get that cube ready, now!"
Cyrus looked confused for a moment, then smiled as he saw Dennis start the car and pull away. "You heard him. Get it ready!"
Dennis tore out of the area, away from the wreckage, having no idea what he was doing. He purposely squealed the tires as he went around the impossibly sharp turn and then u-turned once he reached the other side of the pass. "Come on you son-of-a-bitch, come and get me." He whispered as he stopped the car and put on his spectral viewers. The Torn Prince was flying toward him, bat in hand.
"Ah!" Dennis screamed and covered his head as the windshield caved in from the strike of the bat. Reaching down he put the car in drive and hoped Cyrus was ready with the cube. With his head still down he put his foot on the gas and raced away. He looked behind him and saw the Torn Prince smiling; when he looked in the rearview mirror he saw nothing. The ghost flew after him and Dennis punched it around the turn, barely making it.
Looking up he saw the cube in the middle of the road, men were around it checking it over. He beeped the horn to get them to move. He headed straight for the cube putting his foot to the floor. Turning around he saw the Torn Prince was still in pursuit. He was close to the containment cube. A little more, a little more .. He turned at the last second and slammed on the brake. Behind him the ghost was unable to stop or turn and slammed into the containment cube with enough force that it shook. Expecting to be able to pass through it, the Torn Prince was confused long enough when it couldn't that the doors shut behind him.
Dennis braked as hard as he could but couldn't stop the car from diving into a ditch. He struck hard but it could have been worse. Luckily the car was very well safety equipped and the airbag erupted as soon as the brakes were pressed too hard. He opened the door and stumbled out, very dazed but alive. When he looked up he saw Cyrus heading towards him, leisurely, accompanied by one of his crew of 'ghostbusters'.
"Very well done Dennis, I'm impressed. I might just give you a bonus." Cyrus said, then turned to look at the containment cube where the Torn Prince struggled for freedom. Dennis smirked at the thought and took his painkillers out of his pocket; he really needed a few right now. Cyrus saw this but said nothing for the moment. He began to walk away and motioned for Dennis to follow.
"You know Dennis we should really talk. I'm very curious about your psychic powers. Even after this is done I may have some very rewarding uses for you and your talents." Cyrus said. Dennis nodded, knowing the only reason Cyrus was finally really speaking to him was because he had just proven himself. By saving Cyrus's life and then capturing the ghost he had just shown that he was invaluable and could be an asset to Cyrus. "What are you doing now?"
Dennis was surprised and scratched his head, "Uh, nothing. I don't have any plans."
"Good. My men can finish up here. Come with me to my home, we'll talk." Cyrus said and Dennis followed him as he led the way to the car. He stopped at the containment cube and stared as the Torn Prince shook the walls by slamming his bat against the glass. Cyrus knew it wouldn't break but admired its will for freedom.
"Beautiful, isn't he?" Cyrus asked suddenly.
Dennis was a little taken aback by the question, "Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder." He muttered as he walked toward the car. Just as he reached for the door handle he heard tires squealing loudly in the distance and coming towards them. Cyrus moved out the car quickly and both men looked toward the containment cube. The Torn Prince still struggled inside desperately. They each looked at each other, wondering if perhaps the ghost could still control objects while captured.
"Maybe it's just a joyrider." Dennis offered as an old Buick sped into view and towards them.
"I had this road closed very tightly." Cyrus assured him as they both waited to see what the car would do.
The black vehicle braked hard when it reached the location of the ghost hunters and two people hurried out. A man and woman. They were in their late twenties and seemed very determined. The man came rushing up to Cyrus as the woman took a moment to study everything around her; the fires, men, and containment cube.
"You have to stop this Mr. Kriticos, now!" The man demanded.
Cyrus looked disgusted, "Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?"
"Damen Fletcher and this is Kalina. We broke through your little road block a few miles back. You can't do this, it's like slavery." Damen said adamantly.
"Slavery indeed. We are doing nothing of the sort." Cyrus said, brushing past him to his car once more.
"Capturing human beings and using them for your own ends, I'd call that slavery." Kalina pointed out.
"Human beings? These people are dead, I think they gave up their rights upon departure." Dennis said pointing toward the containment cube.
"Dead or alive they have thoughts and feelings. This is wrong!" Kalina's eyes glazed with determination.
"How do you know they feel anything?" Dennis asked, putting doubt into her even though he knew that supernatural beings indeed did feel things, "Besides, even if they do these are dangerous human beings. We could be saving a lot of people."
"Good point Dennis. Now let's be off. Michael," Cyrus called to one of his men, "Take care of these two will you? See they don't bother me again."
"Get back here. You can't just walk away from this Cyrus!" Damen yelled as the millionaire walked away.
Cyrus stopped in his tracks and looked to the man, seemingly deep in thought, "Yes, you know you're quite right. I can't walk away, I firmly plan on driving."
Dennis actually laughed. Cyrus sneered in Damen's face and then got into his car, very satisfied.
"If word gets out on this it could ruin you, have you thought of that?" Kalina asked as she pushed back by the security men.
" 'If word gets out'? Lady, if any news reporter were to hear that ghosts are real, dangerous and Cyrus Kriticos has a couple, then that reporter and their source would look like quacks."
"Very well said Dennis. Now hurry up, we really must be going." Cyrus ushered him forward. Dennis mock waved to the couple being led away and got in the car.
The drive back to Cyrus's was pleasant and Dennis found himself feeling more and more comfortable with the millionaire. Eventually he began to think he may even be able to consider Cyrus a friend. He hadn't had a friend in a long time, and he hoped it could be true.
THE END