simple twist of fate

by red-starshine

part ten: the chain

Back at the House of Mystery, John flopped bonelessly onto the sofa near the fireplace, not bothering to take off his trenchcoat. He tilted his head back and let out a sigh.

Chas closed the door.

John's head tilted up slightly when he heard the door shut. "Don't suppose you'd be a mate and grab me a beer?"

"It's not even 7 in the morning yet," said Chas, still standing next to the door.

"Spoilsport," John groaned, letting his head drop back again. "I need some hair of the dog, head's killing me."

Chas sighed and headed into the kitchen. A moment later he reappeared with a small glass of water.

John glared at the water petulantly. "That better be vodka."

"You're dehydrated," said Chas, holding out the glass to him encouragingly. "Water's the best way to combat a hangover."

John glanced at him, a sardonic look on his face. "Yes, daddy." After a few moments of Chas staring at him while holding the water, John gave in. He sighed, took the glass of water and gulped it down.

Chas took the glass from John once it was empty. "Better?"

John covered his eyes with one arm and grunted, which Chas took to mean 'slightly'. In the time it took Chas to walk back into the kitchenette with the glass, wash it, put it back where he'd found it, and come back into the main room, John was out cold.

Chas turned towards John's collection of the bizarre and mystical. Books were piled high, covered in cobwebs. Some looked hundreds of years old, the spines cracking. Acting as a bookend on one shelf was a tiny glass box, with a small dark purple gem softly glowing inside, near what looked to be a golden human skull inlaid with three rubies, two in each eye socket and one centered in the forehead. A blackened heart twitched slightly inside a glass jar.

Chas idly spun the small spherical astrolabe next to a map of the United States. On top of the map was a golden helmet in a large glass display case. It looked ancient, like an treasure stolen from a pharoh's tomb.

"What are you?" said Chas, carefully lifting open the lid.

"Sorry, but I wouldn't touch that if I were you," said an unfamiliar voice behind him.

A man with dark, messy hair was standing behind him, dressed in a loose-fitting black jacket, the white t-shirt underneath ripped around the collar. His jeans were ripped as well, from what appeared to be years of wear. He looked at Chas with downcast eyes. "It's the helmet of Nabu, an Egyptian god," said the man in an Irish accent. "That helmet's all that remains of him now. He likes to posses the people who touch it."

Chas quickly shut the lid.

"Touching any of the House's collection is probably not the best idea," the man suggested. "A lot of them are dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."

"But they're just sitting out there," said Chas. "Shouldn't they be locked up or something?"

"The House doesn't get very many visitors," said the man with a shrug. "And it's fairly resistant to smash-and-grabs. There isn't really a need."

Chas let that sink in. More information to mull through later. He turned back to the man with an apologetic grin. "I'm sorry. John didn't say someone else lived here -"

The man's eyes got even more sad. He reached for the glass case, but his hand passed through it as if he were made of vapor. "That's because I'm not alive."

Chas's eyebrows furrowed. As far as his own ability to sense the dead went, the man didn't feel like a ghost. He was more like a question mark – something he didn't know how to classify with his admittedly limited experience with spirits. "Who are you?"

The man gave him a melancholy smile. "You know, I don't really know anymore? My life when I alive feels like a bad dream that I forgot when I woke up. I know that it happened, but I can't remember much about it," he said. "John calls me 'Gaz', but I think that's more of a nickname. I guess you can call me that too."

"I'm Chas." He resisted the urge to hold out his hand for Gaz to shake. He wasn't sure if Gaz would be able to touch him like the other ghosts could, and reminding Gaz again that he was dead seemed almost cruel.

Gaz nodded. "I know. I saw you when you came to the House last night with John."

Chas felt a shiver run its way down his spine. Being watched without his knowledge creeped him out slightly. "Why didn't you come out then?" said Chas curiously. "I don't bite."

Gaz was silent for a long moment. "John doesn't seem to like it much when I'm around," he said quietly, his accent making it sound almost like a question. "I don't know why. So I tend to make myself scarce when he's around, unless I have something important that he needs to know regarding the House."

"Oh, you look after this place?"

"I'm tied to the House," said Gaz simply. "Whatever I was before, it's part of me now. I know what it knows. The House's residual power is what keeps me...aware, I guess? Most ghosts who don't cross over get, uh, stuck – fixated on something. I don't. But I can't leave this place."

"Must be lonely," said Chas offhandedly.

Gaz looked at him, his eyes large. "It's nice to talk to someone," he said finally. He turned back to the shelf and pointed to the golden skull on the shelf. "Did you know that's Pandora's box?"

"I thought that was a myth. Pandora was real?"

Gaz nodded. "She was, and that was the box that unleashed suffering onto the world." He paused, looking at the box. "I'm not sure why it's shaped like a skull."

"That was going to be my next question," said Chas. He pointed to one of the long swords displayed next to the map. "What's that over there?"

"The Sword of Night," said Gaz. "It's one of the enchanted swords in the House. It can sense danger, but it also compels whoever touches it to speak the truth."

"Huh. That's a weird power," said Chas.

Gaz shrugged but didn't disagree.

There was a groan from the sofa behind them as John began to wake up again. "Ow. Fuck. Chas?" he called, sounding like he was in pain. "Another water and a handful of whatever it is you call Panadol in the States would be greatly appreciated!"

Chas rolled his eyes. When he came out of the kitchenette, Gaz was gone.

John's eyes lit up when he saw the two white tablets in Chas's palm. "You are an angel, Chas," he said, taking the tablets and water. "And not one of those bloody arsehole ones." He knocked back the tablet and swallowed them down with the water. He winced slightly, and then looked up at Chas. "Something the matter? You look a bit shaken up."

Even hungover, John didn't miss anything. "I met Gaz."

John looked away from him, staring instead into the bottom of the glass. "Gaz? Well, he must like you, then. He didn't come out for Liv at all, and she was here for a week."

"John," Chas said. "Who is he? Why'd you tie him to the House instead of letting him cross over like the others?"

John cut him off, holding up a hand. "Look, mate, that's going to have to wait for at least another half an hour, or however long it takes for this rubbish medicine to kick in." He rubbed at his temples.

"You're hiding things from me, John. Why didn't you tell me about him last night?"

"Slipped me mind," said John tightly.

Chas stared at him for a moment. "I don't believe you," he said.

John let out an exasperated sigh, his shoulders slumping down. "Look mate, he's only been at the House for a few months. I thought from how he acted when Liv was here he wouldn't bother you."

"Liv?"

"That's another long and sordid tale," said John. "Although slightly easier to sum up. Liv was the daughter of the man who owned this place before I did, the Baron Winters. Before he died, we made an agreement that I'd look after the place, feed his cat, that kind of stuff, until I could find Liv. It took me months to track her down and bring her here. But she didn't know anything about magic, and after a few days of demons trying to kill her, she didn't want anything to do with it. Practically threw the keys back in my face and ran to the other side of the country to get away from this place. That's how the House of Mystery fell into my hands."