1.7
When I woke in the morning, the house was empty. I'd slept in late and Dad had already gone to work.
"School day, guess I'm skipping," I chuckled darkly. Or I thought it was. I wasn't really sure what day it was anymore.
I stretched out on the couch, relaxing sleepily. My body still ached a little, but I felt almost normal. I wasn't cold at all, and I was back to full… not-transparency? Opacity, I supposed.
I needed some normalcy at the moment. No ghost stuff, no cold, no nothing. I reached for the tv remote. My hand phased through it, leaving me feeling extremely stupid.
Right… That whole ghost thing wasn't going to stop just because I was tired of it. I sighed and decided to bite the bullet. If I wanted to affect anything physically, I needed ghosts. And they were both injured.
Their crystals were damaged, but they were still with me. Could I… fix them in some way? I tried willing them to go back together in the same way that I willed them out of my power. They didn't move. I had a feeling that the whole 'shattered crystal' thing was more of a metaphor than anything. Just my mind's way of interpreting my powers.
Allfather had responded in the past when I'd transferred energy to him. He'd started out barely coherent before I boosted him. And there was the initial loss of energy that came when I manifested a new ghost. I got less functional the less of my energy I had. Everything came back to my energy.
…was I like a walking battery? Was it that simple? Did I power ghosts?
I pushed some of my energy into Allfather's shard. There was a sense of joining and I felt our link spring up again. My energy began transferring to him, becoming his energy. Slowly, his fragmented shard began drawing back together.
The energy leaving me was significant. Not as much as it took me to manifest him for the first time, but enough that cold started winding its way up my fingers. I made ready to sever our link if I started running out.
Finally, the last bit of Allfather fell into place, and his shard gained a sense of wholeness. It'd taken a lot of my energy, but I still felt good. I'd figured out another aspect of my power. I started the same process on Skidmark's crystal.
His repair was much quicker. His crystal was less damaged, and it came together with less energy from me than Allfather's. It felt like the more damage to the crystal, the more it cost me to repair.
Yeah, I was a glorified ghost battery.
Skidmark's shard finished, and I flopped back on the couch. With a push, I summoned both ghosts into being. At once, Allfather loomed over the room from next to the tv, and Skidmark stood scowling in the doorway to the kitchen.
"…the fuck?" Skidmark said. He glanced around the room suspiciously.
"Taylor." Allfather said. He was at my side in an instant. "Are you hurt?"
"Tired." I groaned. "You're in my house. Need to rest."
He nodded. "I will keep-" He stopped, staring over at Skidmark. "What is he doing here? I killed him."
"He's a ghost." I said. Did we really need to have a conversation now? I was tired again.
"You're not safe with him here." Allfather drew his sword. "I will remedy the situation."
I growled something that I hoped sounded like a "no."
Skidmark stopped examining Dad's movie collection when Allfather's sword came out.
"Make a move, bitch." Skidmark raised a hand threateningly. "I'll skullfuck you in front of your whore. So cmon, make a move if you've got the balls, you bitchass queer."
Allfather moved before I could stop him. There was a blur of steel, and Skidmark's head left his body. It rolled to a stop at the foot of the couch. I expected a spray of blood, but there wasn't one.
Words failed me again. I tried to say "holy shit, what the fuck." It came out as a high-pitched whimper. Allfather sheathed his blade with an air of satisfaction.
I tried again. "Allfather, what the hell-" It just wasn't my day to talk. Energy rushed out of me in a torrent. It poured down my connection with Skidmark, melding with his energy. Skidmark's body flickered, and then disappeared. He reappeared where he was, his head back on.
"Jesus pissing Christ!" He yelled, feeling at his neck. "You sliced my fucking head off again, you weeping cunt!" He grabbed a paper weight off a table and lobbed it at Allfather. The armored Nazi leaned to the side and let the weight fly past.
"How annoying." Allfather said. He drew his sword once more. "Third time's the charm."
"No!" I shouted. "Everyone fucking stop!"
Skidmark stopped rummaging around for more things to throw, and Allfather paused in midswing.
"Everyone. Just. Stop." I said firmly. "Allfather, over there." I pointed to one side of the room. "Skidmark, there." I indicated the opposite side. They both grumbled, but I did my best to imitate Mom's 'And I mean it'-face. After a moment, they separated.
"Good. Allfather, I need you to stop killing Skidmark."
"He's a threat. I won't leave a young woman unattended when there's a nigger around."
"Allfather," I cut in. "I need you to stop killing Skidmark because he's one of my ghosts also. Any time you hurt him, the energy comes out of me. So by hurting him, you're hurting me."
It was hard to tell with all the armor, but Allfather managed to look embarrassed.
"I'm sorry Taylor."
Skidmark laughed nastily from across the room. "She's got you whipped. Fucking big man got himself pussy whipped by the skinny little white bitch."
Allfather turned to me, his voice deceptively calm. "I really should take care of him. I'm sure I can manage something that doesn't hurt him too badly."
"I forbid you two from fighting."
"You forbid me?" Allfather said. "Taylor, we are allies, but you don't give the orders here."
"Don't I?" I said. Anger rose in my voice. I was getting pissed off the longer the two ghosts kept me from sleeping. "Because it looks like you're both dependent on me to even exist. So when I call the shots, you better listen."
Skidmark opened his mouth to speak, and I held up a finger.
"Skidmark, if you antagonize Allfather again, I'm unsummoning you."
Skidmark closed his mouth.
"Now." I said. "Allfather, would you please turn on the television?"
He did so, taking a seat beside me on the couch.
"Ain't this goddamn fucking great." Skidmark groused. "I'm stuck with Darth Klansman and his friend, Ghost Bitch."
Allfather made to stand up, but I glared at him until he stayed seated. Skidmark wandered off into the kitchen, still complaining under his breath.
After Skidmark was out of earshot, Allfather turned to me. "Did you have to resurrect the nig-"
"Allfather, if you say that word, I'm unsummoning you."
"…did you have to resurrect the person of… African American descent?" He finished awkwardly.
That was honestly a good question though. Why had I linked with Skidmark? He was generally disgusting and unpleasant, and he'd been an asshole in both our interactions so far.
"It… it felt like the right thing to do?" I said. "I can't explain why. I just knew there was a dead cape out there, and I needed to find him. And when I found him, I needed to make a deal with him."
"A deal?" Allfather said.
I explained what Skidmark wanted, and what I'd agreed to.
"That was a poor choice, Taylor. His demands may turn out to be unfeasible or downright impossible."
"I know. I just- I have to try."
"Because it feels right?" Allfather said.
"Yeah." I said. "I didn't forget your deal though."
Allfather didn't answer, but I felt like he smiled at me. He sat back, and after a moment, pulled off his helmet and set it on the coffee table. Conversation mostly died off at that point. I'd ask him to change the channel, and he would. Occasionally, one of us would comment on a show or movie that was on.
I felt myself slowly drifting off to sleep. The tv was a pleasant background noise. It was the way I'd always fallen asleep when I was sick. I'd curl up in a blanket and just doze with the tv droning on quietly.
"There's no fucking food in this place!"
The peaceful reverie broke apart as Skidmark stormed back into the room. He had a box of flour in one hand. A sword embedded itself in the wall, narrowly missing his head.
"Taylor was sleeping, nigger." Allfather snarled. More swords spiked out of the air behind him, all aimed at Skidmark.
Skidmark ignored him. "Hey, Skinny Bitch, where's all the food at? Only thing in the fridge is this shit." He held up the flour like it was crucial evidence.
I stared at him. "You're a ghost. You don't need to eat."
Skidmark dropped the box on the floor. Flour puffed up around him like smoke.
"Fine. Fuck it." He said. "There's no food, and the house is a shithole. Where's the drugs at? This feels like a place with some good shit."
I was about to answer him, when the words sunk in. I looked around the room. He was right. The house was a mess. Half-filled boxes were everywhere, and the room was in total disarray. Dad and I weren't the neatest people, but the house had never been as bad as it was now.
But what had changed?
…oh.
"Dad hasn't been taking care of it since I died."
Allfather was poking through one of the boxes.
"Taylor, I think your father might be moving out." He said.
It felt like the bottom dropped out of my stomach.
"…he's… moving?" I gasped.
"Maybe."
"I ain't splitting anything I find with you. Finders fucking keepers." Skidmark said. He moved toward the stairs, and I unsummoned him. I was in no mood for his shit at the moment.
I worried the hem of my shirt as I tried to think of what to do. Dad was moving. Of course he was. There was nothing but memories tying him to the house. He was the only member of our family left!
Oh fuck fuck fuck fucking fuck-
"Taylor, take a deep breath." Allfather said soothingly. "He might be moving."
I took a single deep breath and then continued hyperventilating. Allfather took me by the shoulder and slapped me across the face. Or he tried to. His hand passed through my cheek like I wasn't there.
"Huh." We both said.
Allfather balled up his fist and aimed a light punch at my shoulder. Again, the blow passed through me. He poked me gently in the arm, and I felt his gloved finger touch my skin. Before I could protest, he poked at me again, this time with his sword. I didn't even feel it.
"It seems that I can't hurt you." Allfather said. My panic was dying away at this new revelation.
"Now that you're calm," he continued. "Why don't I just speak to your father and explain your situation?"
…
…
"I- that's- fuck- that- is-" I stuttered. I buried my face in my hands. It was so obvious. Now that I had my ghosts I could communicate with people. I could tell Dad that I was okay!
"I'll take that as a yes." Allfather said.
"We'll wait until he gets home." I said. Something warm flared within me.
It felt like… hope.
I sat contemplating what I'd say to Dad. It was going to be downright bizarre speaking to him through Allfather. I couldn't touch Dad, and he couldn't see me, but we could still talk to each other.
Allfather broke into my thoughts. "Taylor, look." He pointed at the television.
What.
My picture was on screen. That was my school photo. No other pictures ever looked as awkward as my school photo. After a moment, the picture minimized to a corner of the screen and the news anchor continued his report.
"…Hebert's body was found in a locker at Winslow High School last week. Initial reports placed the death as a tragic accident, but shocking new information has come to light."
He paused for a moment, and then with disturbing enthusiasm added, "See it only on Channel 4."
The news cut to a content warning, and then rolled a video. It was grainy, low quality, like something shot on a camcorder or cell phone. Every time it moved the edges pixelated. It focused on a floor, and then swirled about wildly before settling on two girls.
Two girls that I knew.
Sophia and Emma were hunched over an open locker in a hallway I recognized from Winslow. The camera moved in closer, coming up behind them.
"It reeks." Emma said. She giggled at Sophia's reply, but the camera didn't catch what was said.
The camera continued hovering at about waist-level, and the person filming kept putting their fingers over the screen. It was like they were hiding the camera. Like they didn't want it to be seen.
"Didn't think you were that squeamish, Madison." Sophia said with a smirk. "Don't want to get your hands dirty?" She was wearing a pair of thick rubber gloves and dumping a drywall bucket full of…
It was my locker.
They were putting together the trap in my locker.
Distantly, I felt my hands start shaking and pressed them against my knees. My eyes stayed riveted on the screen. They were laughing and joking while they set up my locker.
"Think fast!" Emma cried, and she flicked a bit of filth at Madison. The camera jolted wildly as Madison dived out of the way. Emma and Sophia both laughed again.
After a moment, Emma set the bucket aside and slammed the locker door with an air of finality.
"This'll do it. She'll show us what she's made of for sure."
"She's a pussy." Sophia said.
"You'll see." Emma said, her voice confident. "She'll come out of it better. A survivor. Like I did."
Sophia scoffed. "Once a bitch, always a bitch." She turned and ambled off down the hall, the bucket under one arm.
Emma hesitated for a moment, and then followed after. The camera watched them go before turning to the locker door.
"Jesus Christ." Madison whispered.
The camera cut to black.
After a few seconds, text appeared. The clip took on a different feeling, like it was something added on to Madison's video. It felt cheap; the kind of cheap you saw in amateur youtube videos.
[The black girl in the video is Sophia Hess.]
Sophia's school photo appeared. A screencap of Sophia from the video lined up beside it. They were clearly the same person.
[Interesting?]
[Not as interesting as this.]
A new picture appeared alongside the first two; a woman in a hooded cloak, wearing a mask. A cape. I blinked. Was that Shadow Stalker?
More shots rolled in. A close-up of Shadow Stalker. A still of Shadow Stalker fighting. Shadow Stalker clearly illuminated by a streetlight.
Interspersed with these pictures were more of Sophia. Sophia at track. Sophia posing with Emma and Madison. Sophia laughing as she dumped waste into my locker.
"Oh my god." I said.
"Taylor, what's going on?" Allfather said. He looked between me and the television. "Why are you on the news?"
More pictures. Damning pictures. Sophia changing in an alleyway, a mask in one hand. Shadow Stalker being struck during a fight, her mask askew. A long-shot of Shadow Stalker on a rooftop, talking to a red-haired girl.
[Get the point?]
[What does one of Brockton Bay's Wards have to do with a dead girl?]
[Who watches the watchmen?]
"We've received this absolutely shocking video from an anonymous source." The news anchor cut in, his plastic smile firmly in place. "For those of you who've just tuned in…"
"Turn it off." I said.
"What?" Allfather sounded concerned. "Taylor, are you-"
"Turn off the fucking tv."
Allfather complied. I stared dumbly at the blank screen.
Sophia Hess was Shadow Stalker.
All the pieces fell into place. I understood. A hundred confusions coalesced into one shining, awful realization. Not just about Sophia, but about Winslow, and the Wards, and why all the teachers looked the other way.
"Allfather, I'm going to put you away for a little while." I was perfectly calm. Allfather opened his mouth, but before he could speak, I unsummoned him.
It was fortunate that no one could hear me.
When Allfather came into being again, I was slumped over on the couch.
"Taylor, you've been crying." Allfather said.
"Yeah." My voice came out a rasp. My throat was raw and sore from screaming.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head. "Not now. Maybe- maybe later." I laughed a little, and then regretted it when my throat twinged with pain. It was funny though. I had an easier time talking to a dead supervillain than my own father. I'd never even mentioned the bullying to Dad.
But… but now… I could change that. Use my second chance to do things right. And the first step to doing things right was…
"When my Dad gets home, I'm telling him everything." I sniffed a little, and met Allfather's gaze. "She killed me. That girl in the video killed me."
Allfather was silent for a long moment. "You're going to kill her." It was not a question.
"Not yet." I said. "I have to talk to Dad first. He needs to know."
"I stand with you, Taylor."
"Thanks." My fist was clenched so tight that my nails were cutting into my palm. "And after that we're going to find Sophia. We're going to find Shadow Stalker."
Allfather smiled viciously. "And my wrath shall wax hot."
I curled up on the couch. "Is that a quote?"
"A bible verse. It's probably out of context. I only ever remember it because it involves swords." He paused. "Shall I go?"
"Do you want to?"
"Save your strength. Call me when your father comes home." He smiled again- a wolf's smile; hard and unforgiving. "When I come next, I'll teach you what it means to kill."
I matched his smile, and Allfather vanished once more, returning to my power.
I snuggled deeper into the couch. My understanding had crystalized into something new; something darker, born from two years of hell. I wasn't angry. I had something infinitely worse than anger.
I had conviction.
I had conviction, and I knew exactly what Allfather meant about wrath.
When sleep came, I didn't dream. I lay like the dead; peaceful in my knowledge of what was to come. Of what I was going to do to Sophia.
The back door slammed and I came awake all at once.
Dad was home. Dad was home and I could finally talk to him.
Finally come clean.
We'd be a family again.
I scrambled across the room and bolted straight through the wall. There was an instant of the cobwebbed space between the walls, a cold darkness that was the fridge, and then I was in the kitchen.
The light was on, and two people were standing in the fluorescent glow. Neither one was my father. I stared at them in incomprehension.
Why were they here? …Didn't they work with Dad?
"I'll head upstairs and get some clothes." The man- Kurt said.
"Right. Let me uh…" Lacey hesitated.
"His insurance papers. See if those are around. The hospital doesn't need them, but they'll help."
"I just- I mean Christ, Kurt. I can't believe Dan'd do something like that."
Kurt didn't say anything. The expression on his face told me all I needed to know.
Grim disbelief and worry.
Dad was in trouble.