My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators (9 page)

BOOK: My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators
7.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter Eleven:

 

I stayed with them for the rest of the week. To stop my parents, lecturers and friends from wondering where I was Gargoyle planted a false alibi in their minds so they wouldn’t call the cops looking for me. He visited each of them under my careful instructions.

“What did he tell them?” I had asked Chaos as I got myself ready for the day.

“They think you’re at some volunteer camp to help raise money for an animal shelter.” Chaos bounced lightly on the end of my bed; his chirpy voice and high energy a morning welcome for me. We tried everything. I watched some of the most tear jerking films in existence, the whole time wailing into knots of tissues, but there was still no Creator. I tried fear; I tried joy I even tried anxiety and boredom to coax the spirit out. But there was nothing, not even a blip on the spirit radar.  When Monday came crawling back again, the frustration of our lack of progress wore Gargoyle’s patience to a razor’s edge.

“Stop. Just stop, no more,” Gargoyle pinched the bridge on top of his nose and shook his head. “Let’s just have a break and rethink what we’re doing.” He crossed the clearing in the other direction.

“Where are you going?” Chaos called.

“Somewhere I can think in peace.” He called back before he evaporated into nothingness.

I stood up and stretched out my back muscles. “That’s not a bad idea; I could really do with a mellow afternoon. Wanna watch some t.v with me?”

Chaos glanced back before gently declining, “Thanks Rach, but I better check up on Gargoyle.”

I pursed my lips, biting back my concern, “He hasn’t said much to me in the past week. Do you think he’s still angry about our little fight?”

“He’s not one to hold grudges, but then again… no one has ever really challenged his authority like that before. Wish I could’ve seen it.” He shrugged, “There’s some books and DVDs inside if you want to watch or read something.  I’ll be back later.”

Spending my evening lounging on the couch was a sweet blessing. When the sun disappeared and I had watched three romantic comedies, I tucked myself behind the pages of a book and drowsiness started to take its toll. I moved back to my bedroom and climbed under the covers, ready to rest; but something was pricking at the back of my mind. Maybe my imagination was running too wild, yet I found it difficult to sleep. The others hadn’t returned, either, and I really started to feel the pinch of being alone. It must’ve been past midnight when I sat up on my bed and drew my knees into my chest. I looked outside into the pitch dark night, when a soft tap knocked against my door. Gargoyle lounged by the frame, his posture slouched and his eyes peering out from behind his hair.

“Can’t sleep?” His asked softly.

I smiled, “Guess not.” Gargoyle entered my room and he took a seat on the end of my bed, clasping his hands together to rest against his chin. He sat there in silence for a few moments; eyes staring dead straight ahead and his face an unmoving stone.

“So… how are you feeling?” I asked. Gargoyle just sighed.

“Everything is falling apart. It’s just… never mind. I’ll let you rest. Sorry for disturbing you,” He got up to leave. Panicked, I grabbed his elbow and pulled him back.

“Wait Gargoyle, you don’t have to leave.  I notice there’s some tension between us. I just wanted to apologise if I had insulted you earlier.” His eyes crawled up to meet mine, and beneath the scraps of blue moonlight filling in from my window, I could see the sharp curves of his cheek bones and jaw line.

“Don’t be sorry Rachael, I apologise if I lead you to think that I am petty. That is not the case; my mind has been merely elsewhere. I came to tell you that we won’t waste any more of your time. Obviously this isn’t working. We will escort you back to your family tomorrow.” I just sat there for a moment, unsure of what to say or even how to feel. In the past week, even though it was emotionally exhausting and one of the strangest things I have ever had to do, I would still miss them.

“Will I see you guys again?” 

Gargoyle smiled at me like he was lying, “I’m sure we will cross paths sooner or later.”

“You’re going to erase my memory aren’t you?”

He then sighed dropping his grin, “Yes. I’m sorry but it’s necessary.”  I felt my chest tighten, but he quickly reassured me with a gentle touch, “It won’t hurt I promise. It’ll feel like a dream. Everything will be back to normal.”

“What if I don’t want to forget?”

“You will eventually. Believe me it’s better this way.”

I leaned over and gently placed my hand on top of Gargoyle’s palm. His gaze slowly shifted to mine, bringing with him the familiar touch of toasty warmth.
Angels… they are extraordinary
. It was almost as if they were created to be the answers to our prayers. His red hair, styled haphazardly, so it sat like frozen flames, seemed so soft to the touch. His eyes, highlighted with caramel oak, and freckled with golden nuggets between each blink, were breath taking. I didn’t want to forget them, I almost felt like I couldn’t forget them, even if they did manage to erase my memory. They were just too amazing to merely shrug off.

Gargoyle let out a quivering breath, “I didn’t choose this.”

My eyebrows rose upwards, “I’m sorry?”

“To be a Hunter, I didn’t choose this.” He dropped his gaze. “They call me the half Hunter because I am tainted with Banished blood. Chaos, Damage and I are all branded with Banished names because of our imperfections. Sometimes I think it would’ve been just easier if I was purely banished so they would destroy me. Every second of every day, I fight to be accepted by the Hunters. I’m consistently rejected, regardless of how much I prove myself. It’s just so exhausting…” He pressed his lips together before standing up, “I’ve said too much. This is not a burden of yours.”

“But I get it,” I whispered while not letting my hand drop from his, “In the end you just want to be accepted, even if it means being called a monster. At least then you know you have a place in this world. But, does it really matter what they think of you? So what if you’re not perfect, look at what you’ve achieved and accomplished. As you said before, you’ve done more than what they have, you’re more worthy of a great title such as Hunter or Angel of Justice. I think you’re amazing.”

He swung his eyes back to me, twisting a corner of his lip into a silly smile. “It’s cute that you are comforting me. Come, I want to show you something.” He took my hand firmly, pulling me up so the sheets tumbled off the bed, and led me out. I didn’t say anything; maybe I was so nervous that I was scared the next noise to come out of my mouth was going to be an awkward squeak.

He took me outside before turning so we faced each other. Moonlight washed over us like a gentle sheet, a white bath of light mixed with patches of shadow and cool air. Ever so gently, Gargoyle lifted my arms upwards and placed them around his neck, the proximity between us vanishing as he took a step forward and ringed his arms around my waist. All I could do was stare with my mouth open; my eyebrows pinched not knowing what he had planned. He began to rise from the earth and I felt the strain on my arms as I was lifted with him. I instinctively snatched him closer to myself and lifted my legs to cling to his. Gargoyle only laughed.

“Oh my God! Oh my God, we’re floating!” I laughed and squirmed in his grasp, trying to look down at the ground below us. We levitated gracefully upwards matching the pace of a cloud. Once we were high enough, Gargoyle placed me down on top of the roof; and once I had my balance, he shifted downwards so we were sitting shoulder to shoulder. He leaned back on his palms and I brought my knees to my chest, looking up at the night sky overhead.

“There are the little things you miss when you make the journey into the spirit world. I miss being able to look up at the sky and watch the moon chase the sun. The breeze of a warm night and the touch of real dirt in my hands. ” He rocked his head back basking in the ambiance of the moonlight.

“There’s no moon in the spirit world?”

Gargoyle shook his head, “The spirit world is a forever changing cosmos, there’s no stability there. Even if I wasn’t cast out to spend my days on earth, I still would have chosen to be here.” I brought my head back up, trying to see the beauty through his eyes. It was like a paint brush of crystal blue was smeared across the sky, and a hole poked through the dark canvas for the moon to breath. Haloed by a ring of silver, it was able to sprinkle moonlight on the darkest parts of the earth.

“I’m glad that I got to know you better,” He added, “You’re not so bad without that brat sniffing around you. I knew you were good on the inside.”

I cocked my eyebrow, “You speak as if we’ve known each other for years.”

“We’ve met before, a long time ago, but I doubt you remember.”

“And why can’t I remember? What am I not remembering?” I asked with a hint of desperation.

“It’ll only cause you heartache, let’s leave it at that.”

“But-?”

“Shhh…” Gargoyle interrupted, “all that matters is now, this one moment. Let’s enjoy it. Plus, you must have a thousand questions about the afterlife right?” He arched his eyebrow at me and I slumped backwards.

“Yeah actually… what is it like being an Angel? I mean, do you guys really go around blessing people and trying to rid the world of wickedness?”

“There are a few different types of angels, so I can only speak of my own experiences. For me, after my passing, I just understood that my job was to hunt Banished and demons. Maybe one day you’ll meet another type of Angel and you can ask them what it’s like.”

“Hmm…” I murmured.  Gargoyle shifted so he was on his back, his arms tucked behind his head so his bony elbows poked out like ears. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as a reoccurring thought kept bugging me.

“Gargoyle…” I whispered after a long moment of silence, “What happened to you?”

Gargoyle glanced up surprised by my question but his face quickly hardened, fading back into whatever dark memories lingered there. “You want to know why I’m tainted? Well…” He cleared his throat, “When I was still alive, I killed someone.” He hesitated as I remained quiet, waiting for him to go on, but he was reluctant.

“You can tell me, I mean you’re going to wipe my memory anyway, right?” I reassured.

“I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not ashamed either, this man deserved to die, but…” After a few heavy breaths he continued, “I had an older sister named Delilah. She was the type of person who could smile when rain ruined her hair after two hours of grooming or the type that still found herself caring for a bee that lost its stinger in her arm. She was always so cheerful and optimistic about life. She was the exact opposite to who I was; guess that’s why I always admired her so much.

“We had a tough child hood which led to me messing up a lot as a kid. Our father was… a man of alcohol. I didn’t know what was happening at the time when dad would visit Delilah in her bedroom late at night. Our mother was not ignorant. She chose to not hear the crying or see the blood left on the bed sheets. Man, I hated him so much. For years all I wanted to do was to pick up my baseball bat and bash his head in if he ever tried to touch Delilah again. But I was always too small and too scared. I started to go to fighting classes; I ran harder and faster and longer every day. I even picked up boxing. I was building my body stronger and stronger, waiting for the perfect moment I could stand up to him and knock him on his drunken ass. Then one day I came home to a chillingly silent house. His car was parked in the driveway, but I couldn’t find him anywhere, but I could hear Delilah crying from the bathroom.

“I found Delilah pressed against the bathtub with her arms wrapped around her abdomen. A dark patch was blooming on her clothes where she clutched herself and was pooling to the ground. She looked up at me, a dribble of blood in the corner of her mouth, and I just knew it was him. All I remember was seeing red. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I eventually found him out in the garage fixing up his bike. He turned just in time to see my hand swing down into his shoulder. He was a big man and I was still small enough that he overpowered me easily. I can’t remember the pain as he drove his fists into me; I can’t remember the pain when he took the knife out and ran it along my chest. We were fighting so wildly that everything was just a blur. He pressed me into the floor, pinned his forearm against the back of my neck and pushed all his weight down to choke me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a canister within reach, so I snatched it and poured the petrol all over his face. I got backsplash of acid on myself and I remember it burning my earlobe and down my neck. He was howling and thrashing, both palms over his face and writhing on his back like a spider doused in poison.

“I was in such rage that I took his lighter from his pocket and set the whole place on fire.  It was memorizing, the golden cocoon swallowed him completely in a matter of seconds. I watched until he stopped moving and smoke filled the room. But fire moves fast, faster than I was expecting. It crawled on top of the other canisters and they exploded. I was thrown off my feet, hitting my head against the back wall and knocking myself out. I was dazed, but managed to move my body inch by inch towards the back door. I was bleeding heavily, my vision was pooling into darkness. The fire had already reached the rafters and painted the walls. By the time I reached Delilah she had already died. I just sat there next to her till the smoke spat me out of my body. When I awoke, I was this.” He gestured down to himself.

BOOK: My Demonic Ghost #3: Hunters and Creators
7.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Dead Room by Ellis, Robert
Dog Lived (and So Will I) by Rhyne, Teresa J.
Killer Dust by Sarah Andrews
The Long Weekend by Veronica Henry
Evil Star by Anthony Horowitz
Jason Frost - Warlord 04 - Prisonland by Jason Frost - Warlord 04