Chapter 10

"I think I sold my soul to a ghost last night."

If Hunter was surprised by Daija's greeting, he didn't show it. Instead he took another bite of his sandwich and continued reading the newspaper, not budging from his spot behind his desk. "So? I sold mine for this here sandwich." He raised it up, then frowned, looking at it. "I should ask for a refund, it's a bit dry."

Scowling, Daija knocked it out of his hand, ignoring his protest. "Look, this is going to sound incredibly insane but-"

"You? Insane? Perish the thought, dear lady, perish the thought." He turned his humor filled eyes up until he was looking into her face, all traces of humor erased when he seen her. "What the fuck happened to you?"

"Don't ask."

"Well I'm asking, you look about two hours shy of becoming a zombie. Have you seen yourself, Daija? You look like you've lost twenty pounds and ten years overnight."

She had seen herself, and all she had to say was thank God Shawn hadn't noticed anything when he had left for work that morning. That might've been due to the fact that she had been hiding under the blankets; pretending to be asleep and he wasn't bothering her because he thought she was still recovering.

Her hair had turned grey and dingy overnight; her tanned skin was now yellow and sallow; her cheekbones hollowed and her eye sockets... It was like she had sat with a hair dryer propped against either eye all night and they were shriveling. She knew what she looked like the living dead and smiled; her lips cracking with the effort.

"Fuck..." Hunter looked disgusted as he plucked tissues from a holder, passing them to her. "Your lips are bleeding now." He watched as she blotted her mouth; trying not to openly look disturbed but the changes in her WAS disturbing. "What happened?" He asked softly.

Daija didn't even know where to begin, setting down in the chair opposite him and stared down at her lap. "Mark." She said finally.

"Mark? As in Dr. I'm Insane Calaway?"

She nodded.

Now he wasn't one for really believing in ghosts. Sure, there was something up with the old Morle house and he liked to joke about it, but he wasn't sure he ever truly believed it was haunted. When she had come to him for help, he had done it more for his amusement and boredom issues than anything else.

But the sudden change in her appearance from yesterday to now was enough to convert him.

He had briefly entertained the possibility that she was just trying to get him back for his joke yesterday but... A person didn't lose all that weight in one night, no damn way.

"You had better start from the top." He sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Daija took a deep breath.

***

"Daij?" Shawn stood in the empty dining room, looking around. He frowned when he didn't get an answer. Considering they lived a few miles outside of town and they only had the one truck -which he used to get back and forth to work- she sure did get around quite well. "Daija?"

The cracked basement door caught his attention, his feet quickly carrying him into the kitchen, halting by the door. Daija hated the basement, she point blank refused to go down there unless she absolutely had too. He didn't know why she hated it, but...

Feeling a hesitation that he wasn't accustomed too, Shawn pulled the door open the rest of the way.

Forcing aside the stupid fearful feelings he was suddenly experiencing, he all but ran downstairs, damn near tripping over the last step. "Daija? Honey, you down here?"

Surprisingly, she wasn't.

"Aw hell..." He sighed when he seen the old wood stove was going, frowning as he crossed the dirt floor to it. The furnace was working just fine, what the hell...

After adjusting the damper in the flue to smother the fire, he wearily turned around. Maybe taking the rest of the day off to 'cut back on hours' as McMahon had suggested hadn't been such a good idea. Lord knew they could use the money but... he had wanted to spend some time with his absent wife.

"Hello, Shawn."

"Who the HELL are you?"

***

"So... the man kept the um... fetus' of aborted babies?" Hunter recounted, his sandwich having long been thrown away; wishing he hadn't eaten the three bites he had, they were bouncing around his stomach at the moment.

Daija nodded, rubbing her tired eyes with her hands. "Yes, in canning jars. When we first moved in, I found them while I was cleaning the basement and... I threw them out. It was..."

"Gross."

"Somethin' like that. What I want to know is just what was he keepin' them for?"

"Decoration?"

She considered that, finally shaking her head. "No, you would have... had to of seen his... office." She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, knowing she was talking like she was crazy but... "He had it set up like he was a REAL doctor or somethin', you know? I didn't see the jars then... Someone must have moved them."

"Oh yeah, old Jas Coleman did because he wanted to up the real estate value." Hunter scoffed, shaking his head. "And this, um, ghost... asked you to help him finish his work?"

"Yes... in a manner of speaking." She hadn't exactly told him ALL of it, not about to recount she had had sex with a ghost; feeling a trace of color flooding her sunken cheeks.

"Hmmm..." Hunter tapped his jaw while he considered this. He knew he looked like nothing more than a giant lug, all muscle and no brains, Lord knew he didn't help that opinion with his antics; crude mouth and juvenile antics but he was anything but a dimwit.

One simply did not work in a bookstore and not have some sort of intelligence.

That and as nobody really bought books that often, he had felt compelled to read them himself, at least that way they weren't going completely to waste. Some things he had found so interesting that he had actually had read up further on the topic.

"You know... Nazi's used to do human experimentation."

"Human. An embryo is not human."

"Just... hear me out, okay?" Hunter stood up and began pacing, trying to word the thoughts in his mind so they wouldn't come out sounding stupid. "They did genetic experiments on twins, they did sterilization experiments, a lot of different things. And it wasn't just the Nazi's, but Japan did it too. Hell, the United States has done it."

"I'm going to assume you have a point."

"I do, I'm getting there. Calaway fashioned himself a doctor, right?"

"Of sorts."

"And he kept the embryos?"

She was slowly beginning to see where he was heading with this. "That's a bit... out there, don't you think?"

"Not really." Hunter was actually sounding excited as he continued to pace. "What if he was? Experimenting on them, I mean? Wouldn't that be fucked up?"

"More than a bit." She agreed dryly. Daija glanced at her wristwatch, which was hanging loosely from her thin wrist, grimacing as she took in her paper dry skin; how her veins were so prominent, the skin drawing taunt over them and tendons. "I need to get home... I have to, to figure out some rational explanation for-"

"Your new look."

"To give to Shawn."

He patted her shoulder awkwardly.

***

Shawn's truck was in the drive. Daija frowned as she stumbled up the drive; feeling like her brittle legs were going to snap in half. She was so tired, so damn tired, all she wanted to do was make it inside and collapse. Sleeping on the wooden floor really didn't seem like such a bad idea really.

When she made it inside after what seemed like hours, Daija looked around for signs of her husband; her eyes immediately darting to the tightly closed door. "Shawn?"

"He isn't here."

Whirling around was a bad idea as it made her lose her balance. Grabbing the doorframe to steady herself, she found herself staring at Joanie. "What're you doin' here?" She demanded, trying to sound calm and strong but her voice came out just as tired and weak sounding as she felt.

Joanie's hazel eyes were pure ice as she regarded the smaller woman, one side of her mouth curling up in a leer. "I'm here to help you, of course." She said, her sweet tone at odds with her eyes, with the inflection of the words. "Why don't we go down to the basement, hmm?"

***

The basement was exactly as it should have been, dirt floors; wood stove... There was just the matter of the swirling green light that was thick like fog surrounding their feet.

"Mmm, he's here." Joanie inhaled deeply, a low moan escaping her blood red painted lips. "Can you sense him?"

Daija just shook her head, her tired mind trying to catch up with what was going on. Her vision was blurring, her eyes ached so much. She just wanted to sleep.

"Come on, to the back room." Joanie wrapped an arm around Daija's waist, helping her across the floor; laughing in delight as the mist creeped up their legs. "He's so pleased you're here, Daija." Joanie let go long enough to grab a shelf that Daija and Shawn had assumed was bolted to the wall and slide it to the side; revealing a small stone door. "In we go."

"No..." Daija did not want to go through that door, into the darkness that was sinisterly welcoming them. "No..." She felt like if she crossed the thresh hold and went into that room, she would never come out. And if she did come out, it wouldn't so much be her and someone, something else.

"Yes, how on earth on we going to make you feel better if we don't go in there?" Joanie said reasonably, her arm slithering back around Daija. "Besides, He's in there, waiting for you, don't you feel him?"

Whatever was in that room, Daija did not want to know; letting out a muffled scream of pure terror as she was pulled into through that door.