Time for the next chapter of my ghostly tale! The cliffhanger that ended the previous chapter is quickly revealed and partially resolved, but our heroes aren't out of danger yet.
What the hell just happened? Emma found herself asking for the umpteenth time tonight. There's been a brilliant burst of light and a blast of air that nearly knocked them off of the sofa, but honestly - what really happened? She had witnessed similar signs from curses breaking, whether from a True Love's Kiss or whatever the hell else broke curses around here, but this was an entirely different type of curse. Would the curse breaking to free the trapped spirits look or feel the same?
Sensing that her magic was still intact - for the moment, at least, Emma gave a quick swish of her hand to bring the candles back to life. Beside her, Killian was hunched over with his head lowered to his knees and arms still drawn tightly over his ears. "You okay?" she asked, giving his shoulder a little nudge.
Killian drew his head up hesitantly, his eyelids tentative in their opening before he dared lower his arms. "It's quiet…" he whispered, sounding befuddled by that very revelation.
"You don't hear the voices anymore?" Emma asked, hopeful the spell had been a success, but not rushing to inform David or Regina until she was certain.
"I don't believe so...," Killian replied, intently listening for any voices present aside from his wife's. "I think Regina's spell just might have worked…" His voice trailed off as Emma noticed his eyes were locked in an icy stare, but she couldn't tell what he was focused on.
But trying to figure out precisely what Killian was staring at became less important as she became aware of a presence attempting to fill the space between them. "What the hell?" she exclaimed as she felt something trying to force its way between Killian and herself, but even though she was feeling as though that same something was trying to push her away, her husband appeared oblivious to it. "Killian?" she called out to him, but he just sat there, seemingly entranced by whatever was still in this room with them. "Killian!" She shouted his name once again as a chill enveloped her.
The temperature inside the mansion hadn't exactly been balmy all night, but it now seemed to have dropped at least another ten degrees in mere seconds. She knew that all of the windows in the room were closed and even though there had been a blast of wind that had blown through the room just moments ago, it hadn't been this cold. She thought about what they could be experiencing and all that came to mind was that there must still be a spirit here that didn't cross over - one that was suddenly manifesting its presence. It was also blatantly trying to separate her from Killian by inserting an invisible barrier between their bodies, but she'd been prepared for it this time.
"Oh, hell no!" she cried out, directing her words to the unseen spirit. "Not this time, pal…" If this thing was trying to possess Killian again, it wasn't happening. Earlier, when she'd healed the majority of his injuries from the tumble down the stairs, she'd snuck in a protection spell blocking any entity from gaining control of Killian's body again. She doubted even a virus could sneak in right now and that was perfectly fine with her. She hadn't trusted Jeremiah or any of his other ghostly friends to keep their word and not take another turn at controlling the pirate against his will. A quick-thinking modification of the protective spell she'd placed on his heart long ago to prevent Gold or anyone else from taking it had been a potentially brilliant idea, but she had no way to measure its success or failure unless a ghost tried to possess him once more.
Now, with him transfixed - some sort of magic attempting to exert influence over him - she would get her answer, but if her plan was successful, it also meant that they'd be dealing with a very pissed off ghost - and she was definitely right about that. The presence she felt trying to repel her from Killian was exerting increasing force, reaching a point where the pressure was so great it actually tipped over the sofa, sending both Emma and Killian tumbling to the parquet floor. Emma recovered almost instantly, rolling off of the upended sofa and drawing herself into a ready-for-action crouch (not that it would be particularly effective against an invisible enemy). Hampered by the prior head injury, Killian didn't get up quite as quickly, struggling against the sensation of blood rushing to his already pounding skull which left him slightly disoriented. Fortunately, at least the impact with the floor had broken the trance. He toppled over onto his side in attempt to right himself, but couldn't seem to muster the strength to push himself even to his knees.
But what Killian didn't realize was that he wasn't just fighting against his own vertigo - something was intentionally trying to keep him pinned down. It took Emma only seconds to realize that the entity was still attacking him. Oh, no you don't, she thought as she propelled herself forward, grabbing a fistful of the soft, black leather that made up the collar of Killian's jacket and yanking him off of the fallen sofa. The abrupt movement caught him off-guard, leaving him slightly dazed until he regained his senses. One thing was absolutely certain though - they were definitely not alone in this room.
And this ghost wasn't playing nice anymore.
Angered, the spirit diverted its attention from the couple, instead focusing its energy on objects in the parlor - starting with small items it could easily manipulate as it worked toward larger ones. Emma's thermos suddenly became a projectile launched at her head and while it was easily deflected, there were undoubtedly going to be more.
"I'm thinking that maybe we should get out of here…," Emma suggested, although she truthfully had no idea where they could go in this blasted house that would be safe.
"I don't think that this spirit intends to allow us to leave here, Love," Killian replied as he regained his wits. "Our unseen companion is rather upset that you prevented him from possessing my being again - and thank you for that, by the way."
"So, it's the same spirit? The one who called himself Jeremiah?" Emma wondered, trying to figure out why any ghosts would have been left behind if Regina's spell had been successful. Why didn't this one cross over?
"Aye," Killian confirmed. "Tis the same entity. The other voices I was hearing earlier tonight have gone silent so it appears the others have moved on…"
"Why the hell didn't Jeremiah move on?" Emma asked as they ducked an airborne urn that sailed over their heads. "Is that why he's so upset?"
"I don't think so," Killian said, shaking his head as he strained to understand the spirit's message through the chaos. "He's quite irate, but the aggression appears to be directed more towards you than anything else."
"Damn - what did Regina get wrong that kept this one here?" she questioned as the flames of the four candles she'd just re-lit flared, the flames reaching nearly the height of the taper candles themselves before they began blending together to form what looked like a mocking face in the fire. Emma waved her hand to squelch the maniacal flames with a magically guided breeze that would once again envelope them in darkness, but both would agree that they were more unnerved by the fiery visage staring back at them than they were of the dark.
"That was truly disconcerting…," he started to say as they remained frozen in place, trying to discern where the next attack might originate. In the faint light that remained, a glimpse of movement drew his eyes upward and he immediately recognized that the motion he was seeing was the parlor's chandelier swaying - and separating from the ceiling. "Swan - look out!" He cried out as the bracket that once secured the massive light fixture to the ceiling pulled free and sent the entire metal and crystal contraption plummeting to the floor. While they managed to roll out of the way of the bulk of the fixture, broken glass sprayed everywhere along with bits of bronze shrapnel.
"I think he's gotten stronger without the competition," Emma stated as she carefully brushed away the crystal shards along with the dust and cobwebs that accompanied them. "Maybe that's what he wanted all along?" she theorized, figuring it wasn't any crazier of a thought than anything else they'd faced tonight. "I think it's time we got the hell out of this house!"
"I'm in full agreement with you there, but this spirit is not about to cooperate," Killian warned. "From what I can garner, this spectre is quite incensed, yet at the same time, he appears to be gloating…"
"Gloating? Really? Look, I'm partially glad that you can still hear him," she responded, "but I'm really sorry about what it did to you…"
"We can discuss all of that later, Love," Killian assured her. "Right now, it seems our friend, Jeremiah, is in need of a recharge. These manifestations and manipulations drained his energy, so we may have a brief window of reprieve…"
"We should head back to the butler's quarters. I don't think the ghosts have invaded that part of the property because from what I saw when I was briefly in there earlier, nothing in that area seems to be even remotely enchanted." She pushed herself up to a standing position, still wary of invasive spirits and flying objects as she searched for the radio, knowing it had fallen somewhere around the overturned sofa. Killian, still on his knees, spotted it first, locating it beneath one of the loose cushions. He leaned forward to retrieve it, wrapping his fingers around the device before he finally pushed through the dizziness and forced himself to stand.
"If you think that's the best, lead the way, Love," Killian replied, extending his arm to offer the radio to her which she accepted and pocketed, certain they would need it later. She took a few steps over to the console table where the still smoldering candelabra rested, eyeing it suspiciously before daring to pick it up. They were going to need the light, but would there be residual spirit energy accompanying them if they brought it with them? After a brief hesitation (and a struggle with lingering doubt that her magic would fail again), she wriggled her fingers ever-so-slightly to re-light the wicks.
"Good thing I healed that ankle of yours," she quipped as she lifted the candelabra from the table. "We'd better move quickly before Jeremiah regains his strength. We've got to head through the kitchen to get through the butler's quarters and I really don't want to get caught in there by a pissy spirit who can move objects…"
"There'll be no argument from me," Killian assured her as they darted out of the parlor, back into the vestibule. He unintentionally kept a fair distance between himself and the curving staircase as they dashed past it, heading down the corridor that would lead to the dining hall. "Hurry, Love," he urged. "Jeremiah isn't exactly pleased with our attempts to elude him. I can hear him cursing us - and using words far less refined than those of my crew. He isn't yet prepared to throw any more parlor tricks at us yet though."
"Good. C'mon then...through here," she advised as she grabbed his hand, practically dragging him into the dining hall towards the unfurnished square anteroom, immediately noting that its door, which had been propped open earlier, was now closed. She briefly contemplated the possibility of the door being blown shut by the blast of wind moments ago or if it had been intentionally closed by ghostly manipulation. Either way, she had no intent of lingering as she gave the door a forceful kick to swing it back open and allow them to pass through. One more swinging door admitted them into the kitchen where eerie glints of candlelight reflected off of the still shiny steel, aluminum and chrome.
Emma hesitated only for a split-second as they made their way through the room Killian would have referred to as the galley, her mind suddenly invaded by images of flying pots, pans and most worrisome - knives. She shook her head vigorously to dismiss those disturbing thoughts before yanking open the final door that would take them outside onto the covered sidewalk connecting the mansion to its caretaker's residence, whispering a silent prayer that no magical barrier would stop them and then giving silent thanks as the door opened unhindered.
"Swan, we need to move faster," Killian stated anxiously as they passed through the doorway. "We have a very antagonistic spirit here that has nearly reached full strength again!"
They sprinted the remaining few yards to the detached apartment, the dwelling which Killian not-so-fondly recalled had been the Apprentice's home - at least before he'd trapped the old man inside the Crocodile's mysterious, magic-sucking hat, all while the pirate himself had been Rumplestiltskin's unwilling slave. It hadn't been one of his prouder moments, and he sensed Jeremiah taunting him with the haunting memory. Laughter echoed in Killian's ears - evil, mocking laughter that only brought further shame about his actions. Emma noticed his brooding as she shoved the door open, drawing him out of his self-imposed trance by taking hold of a fistful of his lapel and yanking him inside the apartment's living room. She gave him an forceful, almost impolite shove away from the entrance as she slammed the door behind them, turning the deadbolt lock instinctively before realizing how ridiculous that action seemed in retrospect. A deadbolt wouldn't exactly be any barrier to a ghost she thought as she stood breathlessly pressing her back to the doorframe and then two words came to mind.
"Now what?" Emma sighed loudly before pausing to catch her breath. "Can you still hear Jeremiah? What's he thinking now?"
Killian stood in the center of the Apprentice's former living room for a few seconds, listening for the ghostly voices that had plagued him all night before realizing that no - he couldn't hear anything except his own pounding heart. "No. I don't hear him, but I'm not about to believe that or let my guard down just yet. It may just be another trick."
"Hopefully not," Emma replied, unintentionally flinching at the sound of a door slamming in the distance, certain that it was Jeremiah locking them out of the main portion of the mansion. "Earlier tonight, Jeremiah said that the Apprentice knew of their presence, but since he lived here and not in the main house, maybe the old man created some sort of barrier to keep the ghost out of his home?"
"I hope you're correct," Killian replied, massaging his aching temples as he dropped his exhausted body onto the dust-covered, faded plaid sofa. "I'm not certain how much more my head can take…"
"Maybe the Apprentice has some aspirin or something stashed around here?" she suggested, trying to determine where the bathroom might be as she hadn't made it past this room earlier.
"I'll be fine, Swan. Question is - can we leave the property from here without traipsing back through the main house?"
"I don't know, but…" Her train of thought trailed off as the radio in her pocket came to life and she heard the muffled sound of her father's voice.
"Emma? Hook?" David voice pleaded anxiously. "Are either of you able to hear me?" She suddenly realized that while they were trying to remain a step ahead of a ghost, David had been sitting out in front of the mansion, most likely seeing the flashes of light and maybe even overhearing some noises of a rather disturbing nature.
She shoved her hand into her pocket and withdrew the radio, immediately depressing the Talk button. "Yeah...we're here, Dad."
"Oh, thank goodness!" They could hear David's relieved sigh over the crackle of static. "I was seeing more of those strange lights and then, a few minutes later, I thought I heard a crash. I got out of the truck to see what was going on and when I looked through the front window, I could barely make out the chandelier laying on the ground next to an overturned couch…"
"Sorry - we didn't exactly have time to alert you," Emma responded as she made her way over to the other side of the room to join her husband on the sofa. "We've got one angry ghost to deal with here. Killian is pretty sure that the others were freed to cross over, but there's still one here - Jeremiah - and he's dispensed with all of his pleasantries."
"Well, Regina's here," David informed them, the announcement coming as a bit of a surprise to both Emma and Killian. Was she just following up to see if the spell had worked and if so, why didn't she just call David to inquire? "That ghost - Jeremiah - she thinks he might be dangerous…"
"I think we've found that out," Emma replied, perhaps a little too snidely. "He tried to possess Killian again, but I blocked him with a protective spell. I think it pissed him off just a bit because he started throwing stuff at us."
"Where are you now?" David asked impatiently. "You're not still in the parlor, are you?"
"No, we're around back - in the butler's quarters where the old Apprentice used to live," Emma explained. "If you can find a way back here without going through the mansion, it doesn't seem like this section has enough magic for Jeremiah to use so we seem to be alone. He probably has the main house on lockdown again."
"Okay, thanks," David responded. "We'll find a way to get back there because Regina needs to fill you in with what she just told me." The radio went quiet again, leaving Emma and Killian to ponder the last part of David's statement. What exactly did Regina need to tell them and did it have anything to do with Jeremiah possibly being dangerous? Just what the hell had they walked into tonight?
There's one chapter left in this little adventure. Is Jeremiah really who he claims to be? Everyone is going to have to work together to stop this ghost before he tries to invade Storybrooke.