Chapter 5

"This happened eight years ago in this very town," noted Chandra as gathered back her phone. "There have been others like her. Most of them were outside Bishopmill, yet everything else about their deaths is the same. There was nothing that makes them different from you or me. Even if there's no such thing as 7DD, it's scary to think that this could happen to anyone."

Nick paused in silent contemplation. He recalled his meeting with Igor and Elle and the words they spoke.

"Those who receive the mark die once it is completed. They can only be saved if they receive absolution from those who cursed them and if their Daimon is defeated. This one is too late for either."

"Her passing occurred some time ago, and she won't be the last to die. You can, however, save others who receive and issue these curses. That is the task I am charging you with."

"Master and I will see you again, sooner than you can imagine."

It was unusual for Nicholas to recall a dream so clearly. He remembered the woman's dress and face perfectly, as well as the boat where they had met. The 'Daimon' which had turned the little girl insane was even more difficult to forget. But it couldn't be real. He believed he must have read about this story somewhere or recalled a news report from the time. There were no such things as invisible monsters or ghosts, and even if there were, they wouldn't be interested in him.

"I wish Ramsey hadn't told me," confessed Chandra. "I've been worrying about it constantly. This sort of thing keeps me awake at night."

"I could keep you company if it would make you feel better," offered Nicky.

"That's much more frightening."

aaa

"They're watching us right now. They're testing to see how crazy you are, but you're not crazy, are you mister? You're as sane as sane can be!"

William Rigsby held a pillow over his ears to drown out the voices he was hearing. They were incessant now, forcing him to remain awake in his confined cell and destroying him mentally. He could no longer distinguish them from real people by listening alone, as their previously hazy tones were now crystal clear.

For the past hour he had been enduring the voice of a young boy. He didn't know who this boy was or why he was speaking to him and his message became progressively less intelligible as time wore on

"Billy-boy, silly boy, oh what are you going to do?
Billy-boy, silly boy, when I come to murder you!
Billy-man, silly man, doesn't it make you wonder,
Billy-man, silly man, to be lying six feet under!"

"Shut up," whispered Rigsby.

"Would you like a different song, mister? How about this:

He's so fat and lazy, and he's going crazy,
Hears the strangest voices, makes the strangest choices,
Loves the sound of money, but here's something funny,
Very soon he will be dead but not before he wets the bed."

"I said shut up you brat!"

Rigsby jumped to his feet with his hands clenched into fists. No-one was there. His cell, which was smaller than either of his home's two bathrooms, was clearly empty and had been for some time. Rigsby breathed deeply. The fear of the physical pain he now acutely experienced whenever Circe came to 'brand' him, as well as the prospect of losing his mind, were consuming his thoughts. He sat on his hard hospital bed and tried to talk over the noise.

"I can't take this, I can't take this!"

Without realising, Rigsby began rocking back and forth. One minute of freedom from the voices was all he desired. Even a solitary moment would ease the ceaseless crescendo of tension that seemed limitless in its cruelty. Previous dreams of wealth, power and influence had long since disappeared. None of those things mattered now. All he craved was for the madness to end.

But it wouldn't end, not for another 3 days. Until then, he held onto the one speck of comfort in his miserable life, the promised moment when Circe would come to end his torment.

aaa

Nick dropped his bag to the floor and walked into the communal area of his student digs. Chandra and Ramsey had yet to return leaving him alone. Instead of using this time to study the multitude of textbooks he had been coerced into buying, Nicholas placed himself in front of the television screen and slouched lazily.

A sense of relief passed over him. He had survived his first full day at Averurie University. It was a small achievement, but an achievement nonetheless, and one he intended to celebrate when his flatmates returned. Until then, he was left to watch low quality, cheap TV shows.

Two hours late, Nicholas went to the bathroom to wash his face. The feeling of cool water against his skin was refreshing and made him forget about the stresses of the day.

"Are you prepared, Nicholas Skye?"

The melodic female voice was familiar to Nick, although he couldn't tell what direction it was coming from.

"Are you there, Chandra?" he yelled through the door.

"My name is not 'Chandra', Nicholas Skye. I am Elle."

Nick glanced into the mirror and saw the mature, attractive face of Elle, complete with her distinctive long red hair and green eyes, replacing his own image. He jumped away in fright before slowly edging closer again. The girl grinned casually.

"Come with me."

Elle pulled with tremendous strength, and dragged Nicholas into the mirror. He struggled to fit inside as his shoulder and then knee collided with the sink counter. Eventually all resistance stopped and he landed on a floor.

"We are here."

Nicholas reluctantly reopened his eyes. He was in a colourless, odourless bathroom that was otherwise identical to his own. He hurriedly stood up and went to wash his hands. He noticed that the cold and hot taps were reversed, and that the position of the loo roll had moved. The other major difference was Elle, who, like him, was the only other example of colour in the world. She grinned as she adjusted the edges of her velvet stewardess costume.

"Welcome to the mirrored world. I trust you are fully prepared, Nicholas Skye?"

"I hope you're talking about a date," said Nick without conviction.

"You're funny. I was talking about the Daimon you need to defeat."

The girl floated out the door and disappeared from view. Nick lazily followed after her. He tried to find a rational explanation for what was happening as he walked through the inverted, grey shaded world outside his home. His first thought was that he had concussion and was currently being carried on a stretcher to the nearest hospital. It made more sense than what Elle had told him.

There were no other people present in the town and everything was still. The late summer breeze was absent and the sky had the appearance of being coated by blankets of thick, menacing clouds. Nick came up with his second possible explanation; this was purgatory. He wasn't as confident with this notion as he had been with the first as it would mean that he was dead, and he didn't feel dead. At least, he didn't feel the way he imagined he would feel if he was dead.

"Where are we going, Elle?"

"You shall see soon enough, Nicholas Skye."

He wasn't sure why, but Nick was unnerved by Elle using his full name. The impression that she would enjoy mentally torturing him was difficult to shake.

His focus returned when he felt a sudden coldness caress the back of his neck. Nick slapped his hand there but touched nothing beyond his shirt collar. Another sensation, this time on his right arm, caused him to shiver. That was when he saw the silhouette of a ghost. It was seven feet tall, and unnaturally thin to the point where Nicholas wasn't sure that it represented a human. He edged away from it only to witness even more behind him.

"Can you see them, Nicholas Skye?"

"Is this mirrored world haunted?" he asked. "What are they?"

"They protect the Daimons," replied Elle. "They turn into shadows once they sense a threat, just like this. Baba-Roga, appear!"

Elle threw her hand into the air in an artistic manner and the grey clouds above swirled and parted. The sky turned purple, and grand arcs of blue plasma created intricate patterns across the heavens. The ghosts that had been gathered around melted into piles on the ground before taking various different bizarre forms. Immediately they ran away as quickly as they could.

Nick leaned against the wall of a nearby building for stability. He watched as Elle's body glowed and elevated off the ground. With her body arched back and her face pointing skywards, she let out a terrible scream, and a creature on unspeakable evil emerged from her.

The monster was old and haggard. She rode on top of a mortar and carried a giant white pestle in her hands. Her black and red stripped clothes were tattered and worn, and her hair was long, thin and grey. The creature turned its wart covered face and viewed all that was around. She then lifted a broom and chanted words in a language Nick didn't understand.

Lightning rained upon every shadow, annihilating them instantly in an orgy of violence. The sound was deafening and Nick was forced to roll into a small ball to both cover his ears and shield his body. The force of the swirling winds made it difficult to remain still, and the feeling of coldness was unlike anything he had experienced before. Nick eyed Elle and Baba-Roga nervously and wondered what they were.