Chasing Demons

Chapter Fourteen: Confusion After Death

Although Manfred's vision still felt somewhat distorted after his injury, he could not miss what happened next. Two people picked themselves up from the ground of the Meditation Room, dusting off their clothes. The first one was Misty's daughter—so that was where the girl had disappeared to.

The second person, this one a man, seemed somewhat familiar. His blue hair seemed somewhat reminiscent of Franziska's, but he was sure he had seen that face before. The man was wearing a dress, which was odd, to say the least, but this was a village of spirit mediums…

Spirit mediums. Spirit mediums. He had spent most of his life trying to forget that Franziska was Morgan Fey's daughter, so he had never thought of the possible implications. He had always assumed that because Morgan had not possessed the powers that Misty had, any children of Morgan's would not be able to commune with the dead. But what if Franziska…what if his daughter was…?

Then the man smiled, and the final piece of evidence fell into place. He would remember that cocky smile anywhere—it haunted some of his dreams, even. Gregory Edgeworth. It was too much to handle. What on earth was going on here? He needed more time to think; he had been shot because he had acted rashly like a fool. Unfortunately, more time was not something that he had. It was all too much of a shock; the dark spots in his vision started to expand and he saw nothing at all.

Gregory's arms ached from the run-in with the door, but he and Misty's daughter had succeeded in their goal. They were out of the room now, the door lying in tatters on the floor. He hadn't known what to expect when he came running into this new room—he had never believed that anything could be more confusing than life itself, but it seemed as though death had the potential to be. Why was he here? Why had von Karma's daughter channelled him? Why did a daughter of von Karma's have spirit channelling powers at all?

There was a woman kneeling on the floor; Gregory could see that her face was pale and drawn. Next to her lay a body, and as Gregory crept closer, he could see that it was just not any body, but Manfred von Karma lying still on the floorboards, blood seeping slowly from a wound in his leg. Gregory saw von Karma's eyes flicker for the barest of moments, and Gregory smiled. Not perfect in every way now, are we, Manfred?

Von Karma's eyes closed, and the woman stood up as she surveyed Gregory curiously. However, it was not the woman who spoke next. Instead, Misty's daughter demanded, "Where's Maya, Aunt Morgan?" He could see her brow furrowed in concentration, but he also noticed her trembling knees and the way her feet were wobbling in her high heels. "Where is she?"

Morgan seemed almost too calm, considering there was a bleeding man lying on the floor. "Relax, Mystic Mia, and everything shall be taken care of. Mystic Maya has just taken Mystic Pearl home, or have you not noticed the time?

"I've been in the channelling chamber," Mia said bluntly. "Just like you asked me to, Aunt Morgan. I've done everything you've told me to…but this…this has gone far enough. I'm going to find Maya, and I'm going to take her very far away from here. Knowing what you've done makes me feel physically ill, and I cannot condone your actions any longer. I…" she trailed off, eyes skirting down to von Karma's body where it lay on the floor. "I just wish I knew why everything came down to this." She was holding her muffler loosely in one hand, and as she turned to leave, she wrapped it back around her neck.

"Mystic Mia," Morgan said, but Mia didn't turn around, her fingers already busily undoing the bolt at the door, "you are throwing your useless accusations at the wrong person. If you want to know the truth about everything that has really transpired…"

Mia's fingers slipped for the barest of seconds.

"…I would perhaps suggest that the best person to ask would be your own mother: Mystic Misty."

The door slammed louder than necessary, and Mia was gone. Gregory could not help but feel he was intruding in some sort of private family drama.

"So, Gregory Edgeworth," Morgan said, and Gregory started. How did this woman know his name? "It's been a long time; I doubt you would remember who I am."

Was she someone he had known before he died? He really didn't think she was—he was certain that sort of hair would be hard to forget—of course, she could have had completely different hair twenty years ago…

Morgan interrupted his thoughts. "Although I do think that you would know of my sister, Mystic Misty?"

So, this woman was Misty's sister. He failed to see how that explained anything, considering he only knew who Misty was because the police had used her as a spirit medium when they had needed help figuring out the truth behind the DL-6 incident, truth they had been unable to uncover. Gregory had perhaps been a little idealistic about the whole 'death' situation but even now he was not completely certain about who had really shot him.

"I suppose that in your current state, it would be impossible for you to follow the events of the physical plane, meaning that you do not know what affect your inaccurate testimony has had on our village." Morgan was leaning over him now, a dangerous sort of fire burning behind her eyes. "Mystic Misty was forced to leave the village in shame. They called her a fraud."

Gregory lowered his head. "I'm sorry."

Morgan's gaze followed Gregory's head, and he shifted uncomfortably as she replied shortly. "Don't be."

He didn't know what else he could say, after all, they should have just let him rest in peace; he didn't have any 'unfinished business' tying him to the mortal realm: yes, he had missed out on watching his son grow up, but he had the unsustainable feeling that although he had not been around, his son had been brought up by a loving family—well, at the very least, a loving sister.

He shook his head. He wasn't even sure where he was getting these feelings from; but why did he think that he had met Miles's sister at some point during his life?

His mind provided unhelpful images of a skinny, lithe girl, blue hair sticking to the sides of her face as sweat and tears tracked a path down his cheeks. Miles's sister: he had to protect her. What an odd thing to think about a girl he had never met.

Death definitely was confusing. If he was going to be here, he might as well figure out what was going on. "So, Morgan, was it?" he said good-naturedly, although he wondered how seriously anyone was going to take him when he was wearing a short dress, "I wanted to know—how do you know Prosecutor von Karma?" His gaze travelled to where the legendary prosecutor was still lying on the floor. "And his daughter?"

Gregory got the instantaneous feeling that this was entirely the wrong question to ask. "Your interest in the matter is unnecessary, Gregory Edgeworth. The situation is fully under control."

The body on the floor and Morgan's intense stare were not exactly hallmarks of a situation under control, but Gregory supposed that being dead, he wasn't in exactly much position to argue.

"Who are you?" the blue-haired girl asks, kneeling on top of the sheets of her bed.

Gregory smiles, pauses to answer, and feels the bullet fly out of his heart.

Gregory shook his head again, trying to clear the images he did not remember out of his mind. He wiped his forehead, shifting his blue fringe out of his eyes. Wait—blue? He never had blue hair, but Prosecutor von Karma did—although now, von Karma's hair was almost white with age.

Wait—this girl, this girl who he felt had some sort of sisterly bond with his son—was this girl Prosecutor von Karma's daughter? His son…what had von Karma done with his son? His stomach churned at the thought of von Karma having any sort of contact with his son at all, and Gregory wondered why von Karma would want to—after all, despite all his sister's influences, von Karma had given up on Gregory, hadn't he? He had shattered Gregory's dreams of becoming a prosecutor, so Gregory had become a defense attorney instead.

Even though after his sister's death there was nothing linking Gregory and von Karma bar Gregory's niece, Lisbeth, who he barely ever spoke to, Gregory had remained obsessed with von Karma. He had to know why the prosecutor had given up on him, all those years ago. Now that Gregory was dead, he doubted he ever would. He wondered if Morgan knew—after all, there had to be some sort of reason why von Karma was lying unconscious on her floor, but maybe the reasons were unrelated and he was grasping at straws.

Where is Miles now? The thought strayed errantly across his mind, but the only answer he could think of was not in this room. He highly doubted that he'd be allowed out of the room, and besides, he would not know what to do here. Where was his son? Why was von Karma here? Why was he, Gregory, here?

Gregory Edgeworth was just very confused.