The surface of the glass turns misty and I don't understand. Cas was still alive at the end of that.
"Thomas-"
"It's not over." He doesn't sound like Thomas. He sounds like- well, how you imagine witches would sound. Powerful. In control. Not just the telepathic tagalong anymore.
This is Thomas the witch.
I glance back down and he's right. The scene is shifting, changing, not vanishing. The smoke clears to reveal Cas. But he looks different to before. Tired and bruised and bleeding, and clutching a knife. With a shock, I recognise it for what it is. My knife. My athame. But-
"Go to hell!" Cas shouts, lunging forward at something I can't see. He's in the attic, the one just upstairs. I give an involuntary shiver at the thought of what took place above my head. Whatever that was.
In the circle, the real Cas is struggling against the floor. Is he- crying? I didn't think ghosts could. It's... horrible to watch. Painful. I turn my attention back to the mirror, where living Cas is ducking away from something.
"First your father... now you... two ghost hunters in ten years. Oh, yes, this is going well for me." The voice comes from nowhere- a ghost. But where?
"Ah!" At first, I don't see why he's screaming. Then I notice the blood seeping out through his jeans, running down his leg like a waterfall. The tears in the fabric. Then the skin of his face. His arms. All of him. Everywhere.
"What the hell?" Thomas mutters. I can only stare in horror. What is this?
Before his throat is ripped out, he gives one final scream. One final jab of the athame. Then he drops like a stone and it's over. Cas is dead. Gone.
But it isn't over. The voice is chanting, saying something. Thomas starts muttering. I'm about to tell him to shut up, I can't hear, but then I realise he's translating for the voice- whether voluntarily or not, I can't tell. But these are his words:
"Bind the ghost hunter and send his weapon away. Bind him and keep him, bind him and keep him. He will not leave. He will suffer. He will feed on death as I take the living. He will live on blood. He will live on pain. Bind him. He will be punished for hunting me. Bind the child. BIND HIM!" There's a flash of light and when it fades, Cas' body is still there. But I can't hear the voice anymore. What I can hear is the sound of feet rushing up the ladder. The trap door being forced open. And then-
"NO!" It's his mother. She drops to her knees, crying. "No, please, no, I can't do this without you, no!" She buries her face in her hands and sobs. "I told you... I told you... DAMN YOU!" She yells suddenly. "You had your way. You took them both. You took them from me!" She is all alone in the world now. The ghost has taken her whole family.
The smoke fills the mirror again and this time, it really is over. Thomas is shaking. There's something damp on my face, and takes a moment for me to realise I'm crying. That was awful. Oh Cas, I'm so sorry...
"Anna?" He's standing next to me. Not in the circle. Free.
"How?" I ask. Before he can answer, I leap to my feet, the athame trained on him. He takes a step backward.
"Anna, no! It's okay! If I was still- look, I'm not gonna hurt anyone! Thomas is still there! Alive! I won't hurt him." I slowly lower the knife. "I won't hurt him," he repeats softly.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "How you died... what did that to you?"
"I don't know his name. But I-"
"That was an Obeahman." Thomas has come to stand beside us. He nods at him. "Hey, Cas."
"Hey Thomas," he tries to smile. "Sorry for, um... fuck, did I really try to kill you?"
"Yeah. A couple of times, actually." He shrugs. "It's fine. I'm alive."
"Sorry to interrupt, but Thomas, what is an Obeahman?"
"Obeah is kind of like voodoo, except way more... I dunno. It's from the West Indies; originally. My grandfather knows a lot about it." He looks at Cas again. "But that can wait. How come you're free?"
"No clue. One minute I was in the circle, then I was over here and I wasn't killing anyone." Right. Because that makes such perfect sense.
"Are you really free? Can you leave the house?" I question.
"I think so. Come with me?" The question is directed at both of us, I'm sure, but it's me he looks at. I nod.
"Yes. I want to talk to you anyway." I hold his gaze. He has nice eyes, when they're not furious or terrified or murderous. For a moment, he isn't a ghost. He isn't my latest hunting project. He's Cas, a boy my age who just happens to have been dead for a few years. Still human. Still a person. And I can't look away.
"Um..." Thomas coughs awkwardly from behind me. I start and turn to him, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. I don't know why. It's not as if we were doing anything. "Are you sure going outside is a good idea? I mean, no offence," he adds, looking at Cas, "but how do you know you won't kill anyone?"
"I won't," he says, and I believe him. "But I'm assuming Anna'll just stab me if I do?"
"Exactly," I say with a smile. I smile because I'm certain it won't be necessary. As one, we begin to walk towards the entrance to the house. "Come on, then." And the three of us step through the front door into the dazzling sunlight.