Chapter Eight:
Gosalyn cackled maniacally as she pushed the knife blade into her victim's head. There was some minor resistance, but soon the inner wall of the hapless sphere gave way to the knife's superior edge. "MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!" she laughed, as loudly as she could, and sawed an opening in the top of the cranium. Pausing before removing it, she turned to Launchpad, who was sitting silently on the living room couch.
"You sure you don't wanna help me carve the pumpkin, Launchpad?" she asked, trying one last time to get a response out of him. "I'll even let you carve part of the face..."
Looking troubled, Launchpad just shook his head. His hand gripped the arm of the couch tightly. Well, at least he wasn't muttering to himself anymore. That whole "I do believe in spooks" business under his breath was a little creepy.
Gosalyn shook her head and returned her attention to the pumpkin. "Lobotomy time," she told it, and set about removing the lid and then scooping out the innards. She was having a great time today - staying home from school and everything, 'cause of last night - but unfortunately, she was the only one in the house who was. Here it was, the day before Halloween, and nobody had the presence of mind to even think about the holiday. Launchpad in particular seemed to be doing his best not to think about it, and Gosalyn thought that was just sad.
After trying to scoop out pumpkin innards with her hands alone, Gosalyn realized - as she did every year - that she needed a spoon. Well, can't do everything barehanded, she reasoned as she headed for the kitchen.
Beth was where she'd been for most of the morning - seated at the kitchen table, listlessly staring into a mug of coffee. Since she rather adamantly did not drink coffee, she'd just been staring at it for a number of hours now.
"How're things, Beth?" Gosalyn greeted her as she passed on her way to the silverware drawer. She got a sigh in response. "That good, huh?"
Beth sighed again. "My house is haunted. I live in a haunted house."
"Don't rub it in," Gosalyn said jovially. She was still a bit surprised that she was the only one who thought this whole thing was cool. Beth had been going on about it all day. "Wanna come cheer Launchpad up?"
Another sigh. "Maybe later. I need to think about things."
"Whatever," Gosalyn said, and returned to her project.
"Great. Thanks a million; we all owe you one," Drake said, and hung up the phone. He went downstairs, passed Gosalyn as she disemboweled this year's jack-o-lantern (over newspapers, thankfully), noted that Launchpad still looked semi-catatonic, and made it into the kitchen. Beth looked as unhappy as ever. "Don't let me interrupt the self-pity party," he said as he seated himself across the table from her.
She turned an uncharacteristic glare on him. "Go ahead. Laugh. I live in a haunted house."
"And this affects you personally because...?"
She shook her head. "You wouldn't understand. You don't understand. My house is haunted, yours isn't, that's all there is to it."
Drake blinked. "Welllll, I... can't fault your logic..." She glared at him again. "Look, it's taken care of. I've called in an expert with this kind of thing."
Beth looked hopeful for about half a second, and then her forehead creased. "Morgana?"
"Yep!" Drake's cheerfulness was about as uncharacteristic as Beth's foul mood, but he tended to get this way over the chance at seeing Morgana. "She'll be here as soon as she can, so -"
Both of them jumped as a yell erupted from the living room. "Launchpad??" Beth gasped and jumped to her feet. Drake followed a bit more slowly, and wasn't surprised when he saw Morgana McCawber in his living room, looking at Launchpad apologetically.
"I guess I should have knocked," she said in that high, uncertain voice she used when she felt sheepish about something. Launchpad looked like he was recovering from swallowing his tongue, but he did his best to convey that he wasn't holding a grudge.
"Morg! Thanks for coming!" Drake went to her and took her hands. "Between the Cowardly Lion and the Scarecrow here," he indicated Launchpad and Beth, "it's a relief to talk to someone level-headed about this whole thing..."
"Hey!" cried Gosalyn indignantly. "Are you saying I'm not level-headed?"
"Yes, Little Miss 'Let's Charge Admission', that's exactly what I'm saying!" he shot back.
Gosalyn grumbled, then shrugged. "Fair enough."
Morgana took a seat on the couch, and turned to Beth, ignoring the sullen look on the young woman's face. "Now, Beth - Dark tells me you're having a little infestation problem."
"Just a tad," Beth answered, a note of sarcasm - about as much as she ever used - creeping into her voice.
"Do you have any idea what might be causing it?" Morgana asked. Beth looked as though she might answer with a more biting reply, then sighed and shook her head. "Okay, so this hasn't happened at any earlier time in the year. That's a start. Well, to fill in the missing holes we'd do best to go straight to the hell-hound's mouth, as they say!"
"I thought it was the horse's - oh, forget it," Drake interjected.
Beth peered curiously at Morgana. "What do you mean, go straight to the - er - source?"
"I'd say a seance is in order." Morgana smiled as Gosalyn proclaimed this "awesome". Beth, on the other hand, wasn't so sure.
"Aren't those dangerous?"
"Oh, only if you don't know what you're doing," Morgana said airily. "And you needn't worry - I minored in contacting the dead at the Eldritch Academy. Shall we?"
Launchpad looked reluctant.
Beth really wasn't surprised. He may actually have had the worst experience of any of them, looking in the mirror and without warning seeing a ghost behind him while he was all alone. She'd assured him that he didn't have to join them in the seance, but he'd insisted, and she admitted to herself that she did feel a bit braver herself with him around. Maybe it was just by comparison, but whatever the case, she found it a lot easier to step into her darkened home than she would have thought.
Morgana, on the other hand, gasped as she floated inside. "The psychic resonance here is astounding! How could you have doubted that there were ghosts here?" Drake and Beth looked at each other, chagrined, and Gosalyn gave them both a smug look. Morgana remained oblivious to this as she looked around the living room in a manner that suggested she was looking past the walls. "I should have been called some time ago! There's definitely more than just one spirit here!"
"I know," said Launchpad quietly. "There's somethin' in the walls, too." From his subdued manner, Beth could tell he was not particularly at ease. She took his hand, and he held it gratefully.
Meanwhile, Morgana had touched the wall next to the door, and now she nodded. "You're right. The house itself is containment for one, and the other seems to be more of a night-walker."
"Are they dangerous?" Beth asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
After a pause, Morgana answered, "The woman isn't. But something here is malicious. When are the emanations the strongest?" she asked, her voice taking on a professional quality.
"Er - around 2 am, I guess."
Drake nodded agreement, even though he'd only been there the one time.
Morgana seemed pleased by this. "Perfect. Then they'll be easier to keep under control at this hour of the afternoon."
As they gathered into a circle, Beth felt her courage dissolve that much more. "You said something here was ... evil?" she asked timidly.
Dismissively, Morgana answered, "Evil may be too strong a word... However, there is a strong sense of anger here. But the female presence is a separate one, and she's the stronger of the two. We'll contact her, and you'll have nothing to worry about." She smiled, and held out her hand. "Relax." Beth still felt doubtful, but took Morgana's proffered hand in her own free one. On her right, Launchpad's hand was sweaty and warm; by contrast, Morgana's was disconcertingly cool. Drake didn't seem the least bit bothered, Beth noted as her neighbour joined the circle. Gosalyn completed it, and the five of them stood unbroken as Morgana closed her eyes and began to speak.
"Hands vermilion, start of five
Bright cotilion, raven's dive
Nightshade's promise, spirits strive
To the living, let now the dead come alive!"
Beth shivered at that last line. Morgana's voice seemed to take on an echoing quality as she continued, switching now to words which Beth couldn't understand. She kept her eyes closed, her back straight and her head lifted high; Beth tried to echo her posture, but found she just didn't have the confidence. She checked Launchpad - his eyes were closed as well, though she wasn't sure if it was as part of the ritual or because he was scared. Were her eyes supposed to be shut? she wondered suddenly, half in a panic. What if she was ruining the whole thing by keeping her eyes open? What if nothing happened and it was all her fault? What if something *did* happen, would that be worse?
Her breath caught, and her thoughts came to a screeching halt as the air before them thickened and shifted. What started with the same basic look as smoke rearranged itself, changed its looks, and Beth knew she was looking at a ghost being pulled onto their plane. She looked to Morgana, whose brow was now furrowed as she spoke the final lines. The words became English again, though they made little sense to Beth:
"As flies the lizard, serpent fell
As goblin vizard at the spell
Buried, dead, and slain - Rise again!"
And with that they all looked, and saw what Beth had seen forming: the woman in white, mistier than she had been the night before but still there. Her hair and robes flowed about her as though she were underwater; her legs faded into nothing before they reached her feet, and so she simply hovered in the air in the middle of the room, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open.
The woman from the newspaper article - the woman from her dreams. Looking at the faces of her friends, Beth was surprised to realize that, apart from Morgana, all the others recognized her as well. To Morgana, she whispered, "Will she... can she speak?"
"If she is spoken to," Morgana answered, her own voice just above a whisper. She looked pleased with her handiwork. "We could start by asking her name..."
"Stella," Beth answered, and the ghost opened her eyes and watched them. Her eyes were surprisingly bright, not the shadowed hollows which some movies suggested. "Aren't you? Aren't you Stella D'Oro?"
The ghostly woman didn't move - not even her mouth - but her voice, known to most of them from the night before, whispered "Yes," slowly.
"Whoa, keen gear! Can you make yourself look scary, like those ghosts in that movie where the people die and new people move into their house and the ghosts of the other people want to -"
"Gosalyn," Drake said, his voice a quiet warning. The ghost of Stella D'Oro looked back at them, appearing perplexed. Gosalyn looked chastened and fell silent.
Beth found, slightly to her surprise, that she wasn't as scared as she'd been before. This woman wasn't threatening... she was so sad, so normal. Well, aside from being see-through. To Morgana, she asked, "What else should we say?"
"We want to know why she's caught here, what her unfinished business is. Or if something is holding her here." After a moment, Morgana added, "If all else fails, we can try an exorcism." She nodded to Beth. "Ask her something."
"Right. Because it's my house, and... right." Beth swallowed. "Stella?"
The quiet "yes" which came in reply was almost just a breeze.
"Um..." Beth paused as Launchpad's hand seemed to become more slippery than it had before. She held it more firmly, hoping he could keep steady for a while longer. "Are you... are you trapped here? I mean... WHY are you trapped here?"
"Why don't you move on?" Morgana added, and Beth had to wonder irritably why Morgana hadn't just done the questioning herself to begin with.
The spirit sagged in midair and hung her head. "Malachai," came her voice, blowing past them almost tangibly. "His power... his revenge."
The misery in this reply made Beth's heart twist. Beside her, Morgana asked, "Who is Malachai?"
"Spirit..." the whisper replied. "Powerful... wicked."
Surprising herself, Beth blurted out, "Can we help you?"
Stella's ghost raised its head once more and looked her in the eyes. Beth was almost certain that Stella was as surprised by this offer as she'd been when she said it. "...Yes..." The voice was hesitant this time, almost reluctant. She looked ready to say more, but no words followed. Her eyes stayed with Beth's, and the message in them gave more understanding than her words could have.
"It has to be tomorrow, doesn't it?" Beth asked. It clicked into place. "We can free you tomorrow."
Almost mournfully, Stella answered. "Yes... but..."
She stopped again and reached forward towards them. Forgetting the others, Beth dropped Morgana's hand and reached back for her, stepping ahead of them. "We'll help you! I promise!" She didn't hear Morgana telling her to reform the circle until it was too late; she reached for Stella, and her hand passed through the figure as it returned to mist and was gone.
"Beth, don't touch her!" Launchpad said urgently, pulling her back towards him. Gosalyn and Drake crowded around her, and Morgana lectured her almost scoldingly about how dangerous it was to break the circle during a seance, about how she was putting herself at risk by doing something like that. Beth heard, but paid little attention. All she could think about was how she was going to free a spirit that had been trapped for over forty years.
"Okay, then. Tomorrow evening around 7 pm, we'll meet back here after Gos gets back from Trick-or-Treating and head over to Beth's." Drake's proclamation was met with a variety of responses: an agreeable nod from Morgana, a look just short of glee from Gosalyn, an expression on Launchpad's face that made him think they might need to get the smelling salts ready, and a very blank expression from Beth. "A-hem... Beth?" he prodded her verbally, and she came back from whatever mental plane she was visiting. "Seven tomorrow night, any objections?"
She blinked a few times, then nodded, her brow furrowed. "Um - no, sounds good. What - what exactly are we going to do?"
Morgana answered. "Well, first I'm going to look up Malachai - hope I have the spelling of that right - and see what can be done. It may just be a simple release spell... But if it's too complex..." She shifted uncomfortably. "Well, we might end up having to exorcise."
"Like... Sweatin' to the Oldies?" Launchpad asked hopefully.
"Er, no... Exorcising, as in performing an exorcism."
Launchpad blushed, and Drake rolled his eyes.
"Like the movie about the girl who gets possessed by the demon and her head turns all the way around and - uh -" Gosalyn paused, catching the look on Drake's face. "And, that was the movie Dad wouldn't let me see, so I only know about that stuff from, uh, a book."
Drake kept an eye on Gosalyn as he said, "That sounds good. Why don't we just do that, get rid of everything in the house at once and forget the research?"
"Well," Morgana said slowly, "we could... Exorcism is a related spell, just... a lot more powerful. And permanent. And where a release spell would simply cancel out whatever's holding her there, exorcism is... well, it's like death for the dead."
"NO," Beth said firmly. Drake hadn't thought she'd been following the conversation, since she'd been silent since Morgana had started to go over their options. "We're helping her, not killing her. Or - killing her more."
Sounding a little worried, Morgana said, "I understand, Beth, but exorcism might be the only-"
"No. I mean it." Beth crossed her arms and looked at everyone else. "No exorcisms. At least, not for her. This is my 'resolved face'," she said to Drake. "You've seen it before, you know what it means!"
Drake turned to Morgana, and they exchanged looks. Finally Morgana nodded. "I'll find another way. I promise." Beth's expression softened a bit. "I really do have to go now, though," Morgana added, rising from her seat on the couch. "I don't want Father to get all snarly that I've been gone so long. Until tomorrow, Dark dearest," she said, as she bent and gave him a peck on his cheek, then rose and gave everyone else a smile. "Goodbye, everyone." She clapped her hands together, and vanished.
"I'm never gonna get used to that," Launchpad said a moment later.