Chapter 11:

Steve, Sarah, and I picked up some fast food burgers on the way home since we had missed dinner. I promised to meet them tomorrow for another trip to the hospital before parting ways with them. After that, I made a late night stop at a butcher's for chicken blood before heading home. I swear it looked like something on Angel, weird guy purchasing blood on the night of a full moon. The butcher himself didn't seem to mind though. Just another sale.

So then I found myself standing just outside of my apartment, hoping to every deity there is that she wasn't in there. Susannah, I mean.

I opened the door and took a glance around the living room and study. Nothing. A few books were off the shelf and on the table, but otherwise there was no sign of her. I heaved a sigh of relief and made a beeline for my room. I quickly rummaged in my closet for the box of ghost busting items I had packed. Into the duffel bag went some white candles, a paintbrush, the chicken blood, and some other items I'd rather not mention. Just in case any of you are foolish enough to try this at home. I don't care how haunted or experienced you say you are, this sort of thing can go awry easily and the only blood on my hands will be chickens', not yours.

Anyway, I packed the necessities and decided to catch some sleep before the event. I set my alarm clock for 11:30. Unfortunately when I woke up, the beeping alarm wasn't the only thing I heard.

"Isn't it a bit early for school, Jesse?" Sitting up, I saw none other than Susannah, who was perched on the corner of my bed nonchalantly. Her green eyes were bright and her head was tilted at me in mock curiosity.

Rather than answering her, I sighed heavily and got up, reaching for my duffel bag and pulling on my shoes. She didn't take kindly to being ignored.

"Jesse de Silva, what are you up to?" She sounded somewhat playful as if chiding a younger sibling, but she obviously wanted a good answer.

I replied shortly, "Out."

The she raised an eyebrow at me and stood up, her skirts ruffling on the bedspread. Her playful tone was gone. "What do you mean, out? Are you going back?" She, of course, meant the school. Perhaps she thought I had given up after last night, but there wasn't even a chance of that now.

"If you must know, yes I am." At this point I had left my room and was halfway to the door. Susannah had followed me so I turned around and added, "If you know what's good for you, querida, you'll stay away from there tonight. Bad things are going to happen and I don't want you to get caught up in it."

She looked angry now. "Stay away? What are you planning, Jesse?"

I turned back to the door as I responded simply, "An exorcism."

Susannah appeared suddenly in front of me and held me back from the door. "An exorcism, Jesse?! That's madness! You'll get yourself killed! Or worse!"

"So?" I answered harshly. "Bryan can't get away with this, Susannah."

Her expression changed from anger to confusion. "Get away with what? What happened today, Jesse?" I couldn't look her in the eye, but she got it anyway and held my shoulders tightly. "Bryan hurt someone, didn't he? Who was it? Carrie? Jenny?"

I frowned as I remembered how pale Gina looked when she was unconscious. I said vaguely, "Friends from school, alright?" I took a deep breath and continued, "Look, Susannah, I have to do this so if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away." At the last word, I brusquely pushed my way to the front door and slammed it closed. I could swear I heard Susannah yelling at me through it, but paid it no mind as I approached the elevator.

Taking the familiar path to school, I noticed that yellow police tape had been wound around the chain link fence that separated the courtyard from the street. Yeah, right. Like that would stop me. Vaulting over the fence, I set down my duffel bag and got to work. Again, I am not telling you what I did and with what materials. Too dangerous, end of story. Not this story, that is, the exorcism explanation one.

Once I was done painting the chicken blood, I was still murmuring the enchantment when I heard the familiar rough voice say, "What the hell are you doing?" Although you can be certain he didn't say "hell." When I didn't answer, he roughly shook my shoulder and said, "Hey, I'm talking to you! Where'd you get that picture from?"

I set down his photo in the center of the ring of candles and finished my chant. I finally answered him calmly, "I'm setting things right, Bryan."

He eyed me warily. "What do you mean by 'right'?"

"I mean that I'm letting you go back." Looking back on this, I admit I was being a bit weird, talking levelly in half-truths and whatnot. But hey, two people were hurt and I was upset, all right?

Bryan's eyes went wide in surprise and (I'm sad to confess) hope. He asked, "You mean it? Everything will go back to the way things were?"

"Yes. I just need you stand there, by your picture, and close your eyes." I pointed at the ring. His picture was there, propped up on a stone and illuminated by the light of the candles.

He complied quickly and started talking. "It'll be great to end this, you know. I was getting tired of not being seen by anyone. Once Shannon hears I came out of death for her, she'll be begging for me to come back. Don't you think so, De Silva?"

I wasn't listening though. I was eyeing the swirling vortex that was opening above Bryan's head. It had an ominous red glow and tendril-like smoke was creeping out from the edges to reach for Bryan. However, Bryan chose that moment to open his eyes and ask me, "Hey, are you listening?"

"Close your eyes!" I shouted back, but it was too late. He spotted the red smoke wrapping itself around his wrists and ankles and with a loud obscene curse, jumped out of the ring.

That's it. Easy as pie, the vortex started closing up again as Bryan furiously yelled at me, "What the hell was that, De Silva?!" Before I could say he was answering his own question, his eyes narrowed, "You were sending me away, weren't you?!"

He made a gesture to hit me, but I got there first. I slammed my fist into his nose, hearing the satisfying crunch of nasal cartilage tearing. Bryan was taken completely off guard, not knowing that I could touch him. He landed heavily on the ground a few feet from the ring. Unfortunately, his football background had him on his feet again and livid. He wiped his bleeding nose and said, "Oh you're in for it now, asshole…" That was when the chain fence started rattling again.

Bryan dove at me and the two of us brawled. A good hand-to-hand fight is always fine with me when battling it out with ghosts. It's unfair enough as it is that they don't have to catch a breath or worry if I break their arm, but I also have to watch out for flying objects trying to impale me. I caught Bryan in the face quite a few more times, both of us yelling obscenities. Mine might have been in Spanish though; I was too far gone at that point to have noticed.

Finally, Bryan wouldn't take anymore. While I was still getting in a good few blows, I suddenly noticed that the fence wasn't rattling anymore. That's because the entire thing had been wrenched out of the ground and flying at me like giant metal fly swatter. I left Bryan where he was and took a step back in surprise. The fence threw me back against the building. Hard. My ribs didn't break, but I knew I there would be some bruises later.

While I was pinned to the building, Bryan slowly got up and got his bearings. He was muttering "Jesus…" while checking his ghost form for obvious injury. I tried to move, but my aching ribs protested with every attempt. Bryan walked up to me, a sneer on his face. "Look who's stuck now. I bet you think you're so damn cool, De Silva." Personally, I didn't know what he was talking about. Did he really think I wanted to be down here to kick his ass into the afterlife? I could be at home with Susannah and reading a book or something. But, no. I am here, trapped against a building and being taunted by a dead guy. What a lovely way to spend an evening.

He kept talking, "Here you are, coming to my school and stealing my girlfriend and you expect me to just lie down and take that shit?" Bryan punched me for emphasis. Several times. Now, I'll have you know that I am used to taking hits and I've worked out so that the pain is lessened when stuff like this happens. But Bryan was ruthless. His throws were mostly to my gut, which were already sore from the impact of the building. By the time he was done, I thought that my insides were turned to a soft, barely-pulsing mush.

Bryan took a step back and the fence fell from me. I collapsed on top of it, on my side. As if I wasn't in enough pain, he threw in a few more kicks while I was down. I didn't give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out though. I have more pride than that. And also more guile. I was still muttering the incantation for the exorcism under my breath.

"When I'm done with you, I'll take Shannon and this whole damn school with me too." That's when he grabbed my shirt to pull me up, and I finally got a well-placed kick below his waist. You know, there. Devious of me, yes, but I feel the circumstances called for it. He doubled up in pain on the ground and said with a groan, "What the hell is wrong with you?! Why'd you do that?!"

I said simply, "Because I'm the mediator." Then I kicked him into the ring of candles. Sounds melodramatic, I know, but what else was there to say?

The vortex instantly opened up again and the red smoke tendrils shot down and caught Bryan. Cursing horribly, but not being able to struggle much because of my kick, Bryan was lifted into the swirling vortex. He looked like some sort of morbid marionette puppet. As he disappeared into the mist, I looked up and thought I had caught a glimpse of stars.

But my gaze shifted slightly to the right as the ground quaked beneath my feet and suddenly I saw no more.

A/N: Too short, I know. The next chapter is much longer to make up for it.