I'd already been here longer than I expected to be. Again. I don't know if it was my timing, which had been off for the last couple of months, or if it was the weird ghosts I decided to track down. Whatever it was, I'd been here only three weeks – one week too long – and I was getting quite bored. The queen bee at this particular school was about as typical as they get. She looked like a model, was completely self-assured and was basically a downright b*tch. (Good thing my mom wasn't a telepath as she would have grounded me for at least three months if she'd heard me use that word…) Anyway, the rest of the people here weren´t much more different and even the buildings seemed to have a competition to see which one could be the most boring. The only thing that wasn´t average was something I immediately hated; the constant rain. How was I supposed to enjoy my training when every time I went outside I was soaked within seconds? And that there, was the actual problem I had with this town. I hated to admit it, but my mom had been completely right when she'd said it. I probably wouldn't have bothered with the mundaneness of everything around – god knows I never have before – if the weather hadn't made me so cranky.
Good thing I was finally ready to take on that creepy teenage-ghost tonight.
While walking up the stairs, I kept repeating everything I knew about this Don-guy as if it was some kind of mantra. Teenage boy, who hanged himself after being bullied about his colour for more than three years. I checked to see if my athame was still tucked away in my pocket – which it was. Still lives in his family home; mostly reported seen on the second floor. I felt a killing-calm rush over me and wrap around me as some kind of cosy blanket. Killed six boys over the course of forty years. I quickly texted my mom, saying I was in the house and would be back for supper within two hours. Isn't very aggressive; doesn't come out often. Within a few steps I'd be on the second floor. Leaves most people alone. Then there I stood. in front of the room where half a dozen boys had found their deaths. And I walked in.
Dons eyes bulged out of their sockets and his face became ashen. Not only did the boys lips become a sickly shade of purple, but so did a large ring around his neck. His fingers started bleeding and I had to admit that I hadn't seen anything that bothered me as much as this guy did. It wasn't the fact that he looked so creepy – I'd seen much worse things than a hanging – but the fact that he wasn't even my age. He couldn't have been much older than fourteen and already a rope appeared out of nowhere to cover up the circular bruise around his neck. I thought I'd been prepared for this, but I became seriously nauseated when I saw that hate shine out of his eyes. How could somebody that young be so depressed that he couldn't see a way out of his misery?
But even though I felt horrible for the way this boy's life had ended, my disgust for having to kill him was pushed away rather quickly when Don came strolling towards me. Boy or not, he was still a killer that had to be put down. And only I could do that. Only I could avenge those lives he had taken and give the boy some rest.
"I really hate your kind, you know?" Don had a wicked grin on his face, made only creepier by the fact that blood had started pouring out of his mouth – I really didn't want to know where that came from…
"That popular kind of guy who thinks he can get away with everything." With every step he took, his face became more and more feral and less human. The killing-calm I had felt at the beginning of the evening began to fade away. That blood wasn't right. The age wasn't right. And the amount of hate couldn't be right either. Every story I'd heard had indicated he'd be just an ordinary ghost. Every scouting I'd done had said the same. What else had I missed?
"The kind of boy who takes everything he wants and doesn't care about the consequences." He cocked his head to the side and laughed hysterically. What the - Okay, the hell with it. I couldn't let him get any closer than he was already and I was good at improvising. Sometimes. When I was lucky.
With a heavy sigh, I walked out of the house. I'd been lucky today, but I really didn't feel like meeting another surprise-ghost like Don. I did my homework for a bloody reason! And even though Don was long gone, I could still hear his voice ringing inside my head; The kind of boy who thinks he can get away with everything and doesn't care about the consequences.
Did I care about the consequences? I always thought I did the right thing, sending these killer-ghosts away, but, what about them? What did I do to those ghosts who were once human? Who couldn't do anything about who they were now? Who had once been just like me?
I'd have to ask Gideon about that sometime. But in the meanwhile, I'd seen a letter saying something about a hitch-hiker who drove people off of bridges… And I had to admit that it would be nice to have an easy job for once.