Dreaming of Spirits (Short Story)
Dreaming of Spirits "Well that was fairly easy" Pullman said, twisting the top of the device shut. He was a portly man, with long spindly legs holding up a large stomach. A skinny head topped his disproportionate frame with small rimmed glasses balanced precariously on his long nose. A fine top hat adorned his graying wiry hair. In his hands was a strange thermos shaped device. Ā M looked at the device, and unconsciously looked through it. Looked into it. Saw it on the soul plane. This was a gift he had. M could see things, but had no control over what he saw or when. It wasnāt a power he could control, nor was there a desire to. He did not know when he had received such a gift or how, he did not think of such things. Within the sealing device was a vibrant blueish green orb. It pulsed and swirled. Beautiful, powerful, mesmerizing.
āYou can say that again!ā Naomi exclaimed joyfully. āPlus we made a killing with this contract. Even split three ways it should be enough to go on at least two vacations!ā She was a shorter women. Dyed blonde hair jutted from her recently shaved head, highlighting her face which was lit with a large grin.
āVacation!?ā Said Pullman incredulously, as if she had suggested they go on a spaceship ride with a distant alien.
āYes, vacation. Trip, expedition. We all have to treat ourselves once in awhile you know.ā
āWhat do you call your most recent excursion to the Ā Sanafratille Isles? The second biggest resort in the southern hemisphere.ā
āThat was forever ago!ā
āThat was two weeks ago Naomi.ā
āWellll that was my first trip in a while, and come on it wasnāt even all that. There were so many people there. Plus what can I say? A woman like me needs to live up to my worth.ā Naomi replied with a smirk on her face.
āWell what about the five-day retreat you took the week before that to the great mountains in the east, or the-ā
āOh would you shut it already I get the point. So what I like to travel, I wanna see the world not spend all my money to have random bits of junk shipped to my mansion and stuck on a dusty shelf.ā
āRand- junk- dusty shelf!ā Pullman sputtered. āHow dare you! The Pullman Estate is home to the largest most extravagant collection of worldly artifacts this world has ever, and dare I say will ever see.ā He declared, puffing out his chest and straightening the collars of his suit coat.
āJunk!ā Naomi hit back, sticking her tounge out and laughing.
āGuys, something is right.ā M said solemnly. Hoping it wasnāt too late.
āWhatās that old fellow?ā Pullman queried. In one swift moment M looked into Pullman and saw the problem. Pullman then opened the device, unscrewing the top and bottom pieces. "What are you doing! No!" Naomi yelled, reaching an arm out to stop him but freezing suddenly. M looked through Pullman and into Naomi and saw the same problem. Within them was the blueish green orb. Not as vibrant, but just as powerful. "It's in you both" M said as the energy was sucked out of the room. "What?!" Pullman and Naomi cried in unison. Pullman looked down, seeing the disassembled device as if for the first time, bewildered. To the casual observer it looked as if a slight breeze touched every surface in the antique shop. Floorboards creaked, furniture shifted, dust blew. The lights flickered as the gravity of the situation hit the crew. "Oh dear" Pullman said weakly. Unable to move his body. "It got us". M watched something unimaginable take place. For he saw through the world. Vast chasms of energy flowed forth from the vessel as it whipped its way around the space. Deep gigglings of energy washed over the entire shop. And he saw something, the spirit, rush to and fro. Darting so quick even he, a seer, could not see. "I wanna play." It spoke directly to him, in a language only he could comprehend. "You will play with me" It sounded angelic, childlike almost. Ā Pullman and Naomi were frozen in time. Unable to move, to think, to do anything. Naomi screamed as she was violently thrown against the wall, and crumpled to a heap on the floor. "Play, play, play, play with me!" The voice shrieked. Energy filled the air as the random assortment of odds and ends surrounding them began to rise in the antique shop and spin, like a whirlwind of trash one sometimes sees on a particularly windy day downtown. Naomi ran in blind panic to the door and was once again thrown back. Pullman furiously attempted to put the device back together with shaking hands, while reciting an incantation in another tongue. An antique tea kettle, rusted black, smacked him in the face, breaking his concentration and scattering the sealing device everywhere. M was stuck in place, unable to move due to a mix of fear and awe at what he was seeing. The energy, spirits, everything was too much to take in. "Don't run, PLAY". The voice demanded. A drawer fell and crashed open, spilling cutlery across the floor. Antique spoons and forks, ladles and knives, joined the vortex and were thrown this way and that. M looked down and was surprised to see an orb in himself as well. He had not noticed any attempt by the spirit to control him, yet there it was. He felt his life energy being suppressed. All that was him was slowly getting sucked into the vortex in the pit of his chest. Mās thoughts slowed and his concentration lessened. "Why won't you play!" The voice growled. Lowering octaves dramatically. The vortex shifted suddenly as the utensils were violently thrown at M. He snapped out of its control by actively focusing his energy to push the orb back into the spirit mass, expelling it from his being. M jumped across the room, rolling and dodging the projectiles. They slammed into the wall with as much force as a bullet. Some of the more fragile objects splintering into sharp metal shrapnel. He ran towards the front of the shop and saw a terrifying display case. In it was a large array of swords and daggers, with a few butchers knives mixed in. He saw that she had noticed them at the same time. "Yes, those look fun. Will you play with those?" She asked. Ā M knew her intentions as if he were in her being, thinking them for himself. He looked back and saw Pullman and Naomi's limp bodies being lifted up off the ground and flattened against the wall. His hands, guided by the powers that be, broke the glass and in one fell swoop gathered up all the weapons in a bundle under his arm. As he reached for a lone knife in the back he realized he was too late. He looked down at his left hand, stretched out into the depths of the cabinet, and felt the terrifyingly cold touch of steel. It was at his wrist, the hilt pressing firmly into his arterial wall. He sensed the knife there, and time stopped. It was a wicked thing, the blade half a foot in length. He knew it was as sharp as a tooth of a fierce shark, and only a slight twitch would leave him dead within seconds. He also saw her for the first time, not clearly, but a figure illuminated in the darkness. She was small, not just short but tiny. As if a child. A wide grin ate half her face as she pulled the blade back, the metal sliding the whole length of the knife across the bottom of his wrist. His heart beat, once, twice, a defending roar of his lifeblood. And M knew he was dead. But he wasn't. He looked down incredulously and saw it was the blunt of the knife. The back. Not the blade which had been pressed up to his lifeline. M gasped for air, adrenaline and fear flooding his body with chills. She cackled and her spirit dropped the knife and flew to his comrades. He grabbed it and ran to a back room as she toyed with their lifeless bodies, contorting them and laughing maniacally at their screams. M scrambled to hide the sharp tools. Wondering in a fly by thought how much blood they had already spilled in their long lives, thankful they hadn't been brought out of retirement. He shakily opened a high drawer and stuffed them in. "What are you doing in here" a voice whispered. "Who are you" he replied. Jumping in fright and spinning round to face his adversary. "PLAY WITH ME" the spirit roared back. M ran and jumped over the counter, sliding across the top knocking aside a cash register which fell with a crash to the floor. He ran to the front room, relieved to see Naomi helping Pullman to his feet. "Go!" Yelled Pullman. " Go find help, we'll be fine". "If anyone can do it, it's you, seer." Naomi groggily said. "We'll hold her here for as long as we can.ā M nodded solemnly. He sprinted at the front door which slammed shut forcefully as he neared. The energy in the room intensified exponentially. A loud guttural cry rose louder and louder until it reached a deafening roar as she entered the main room. "BEGONE DE-" Pullman shouted, before being slammed against the wall. Knocked unconscious again. "Do you want to play? I'll play with you, I promise" Begged Naomi, whose eyes then dramatically turned back into her head as her back arched, limbs flailing. "LIER, MEANIE, DON'T LIE TO ME. DONāT LIE. PLAY. WITH. ME." All in the same instant without missing a step M ran and jumped into the wall length glass that was the window separating them from the outside world. As he did this he turned his body midair, striking the barrier with his back. Glass shattered and shimmered, bathing him in a beautiful cape of razor sharp fragments reflecting the setting sun. He felt the spirit start to shoot out of the store like a cannon blast, and his fingers, again each moving with minds of own, formed a cross pointed at the spirit. It was bounced back, confused. M was also confused. He had never made such a motion before and most dealings of this nature took more intricate routes of solving than a basic cross or whatever he had done. However there was no time to ponder this. He hit the cobble street, slick with snow, on his back. He slid a few feet, completely widened. M scrambled to his feet, cutting his hands on the rough stone and glass shards in his frenzy. He ran, feet slipping from underneath him, and fell again, hard. With a crazed look about him he clutched the coat of a passer by and pulled himself up. "Excuse me, sir, please. Are you a priest, can you help me exercise a demon". Again M was shook by his own voice. His own words. 'Priest?' 'Exercise?' Historically the church was largely unhelpful in his teams dealings. He had nothing against it, but it wasn't like in the movies. The church at this point in time had lost most if not all touch with the ancient ways of spirit, giving it up for money, or community and safety. His team hadn't the best track record with higher ups in the church either, and were officially branded devil worshippers and false prophets. Even stranger though, was the man's reaction. Seemingly unperturbed by Mās bloodied state or the undeniable fact that he had just burst through a shop window moments before. The man replied calmly, unhinging M's cold hands from his person. "Yeah.. Let me think. There is this homeless guy who says he is a priest and is always offering to cleanse people or something. He hangs around here a lot." M thanked the man and ran, fast. Making it only a block before slipping on black ice and crashing face first into the hard ground below. At that moment a loud crash, as if an explosion came from behind M. He looked back and saw the spirit rushing towards him. Larger than life, a huge plume of energy was flying a few feet off the ground. Making a beeline for him. Behind her was Pullman and Naomi, and curiously any human who had gotten too close. M looked into each of them and saw that same blueish green orb in their chest. They were held by a possession of sorts, M reckoned. Each body connected by a thin thread of energy emanating from the center of the chest, all linked to the whirling mass of being that was chasing after him. They were running faster than any human should, as if an army of zombies coming to the call of an accidental gunshot. M scrambled to his feet and continued running down the street. His feet tracing an ancient Path his physical form had no chance of understanding. But one his ethereal self knew to be true. He ran, out of breath, pushing his body beyond limits. Around this bend, past that curve. Up this street and down that alley. He hit a huge Main Street, with few cars on it due to the snow, which was falling heavily now. Large, wet snowflakes rained from overhead, hindering vision past the palm of your outstretched hand. Suddenly headlights were in his face and he jumped. Instinct, maybe, training. Maybe divine intervention. Sliding across the hood of the car and landing upright on the other side. The car spun out and flipped dramatically, a wonder as thousands of pounds of metal and plastic went flying. It ended up screeching to a halt in the middle of the street, on itās side. Headlights facing the spirit girl flying towards him, illuminating his doom. He looked back at her, and again unconsciously made the cross with his fingers. M saw it then, what he had created as it rushed from the tip of his left index finger. A wall of energy, almost like a great mass of air hitting a pigeon. However she dodged it, as swift as a hawk. Ā He fired off one more, two, three. She turned and weaved. Graceful and terrifying. Closing the gap yards at a time. Speeding towards him with a manic fury. She screamed and sent a similar barrage of energy back at him, the force knocking him back, crushing his bones against the ground. He had lost the battle of spiritual weaponry. He sat there, knowing once again doom was upon him. Seeing her close in with an army of people caught up in the wake of her rage. Suddenly, 20 feet from his frozen self, she stopped. Unimaginably fast, like a magnet coming to rest in midair, balanced perfectly by two opposing forces. And M saw a small girl, aged maybe 8, frail and malnourished. With caramel skin and short, straight black hair. Jutting out this way and that as if cut by a dull knife. Standing, with two feet on the ground, in front of the flipped car. Gazing into the headlights. Stunned like a baby seeing itās mother for the first time. "Wow." A sweet voice echoed. "So preeeeety." And it was. The snow glistened in the headlights, each intricate web of ice brought into deep focus. M noticed all the possessed followers drop in unison, the thread of controlling energy released, swirling in curious hesitancy around her. People slowly awoke, groggy and exhausted. He cautiously got to his feet and continued down his path, jogging now, each step sent a wave of agony across his nervous system. He felt his ribs and knew that more than a couple were broken. His ankle burned with each step and his muscles writhed. Blood was pouring from a deep laceration above his right eye and he tasted iron as he coughed. She saw him and screamed, although it was more of a whine this time. "PLEASE. PLAY WITH ME. PLEASE" and she ran, on two feet this time, with a strong physical form, at him. She was unbelievably quick, and caught up to him in no time. He turned back and saw her leap at him. He put his hands up and she managed to bite him, right in between the thumb and index finger on his right hand. Her skull so small, it fit perfectly there. In one fluid movement M grabbed her by the jaw and picked her up, she was so light, and he yelled, "A child like you shouldn't play with adults." And threw her in a perfect arc to the right. As her face flew by his he saw tears line her eyes and looked into her. Their eyes locked and everything stopped. M's eyes widened with shock, the fear fueling his body instantly turning to pity in his blood. He saw into her. He felt pain, loneliness, and neglect so deep. An unfathomable pit of darkness, with a frightened little girl at the base of it. He couldn't stop his action however, and she fell hard, sliding and bouncing across the cobbled street. M continued to stumble down The Path, knowing he was almost at its end. At the place he was supposed to be. In the distance, about a block up, he saw a large man, dirty and unkempt. Wearing a black beanie and a coat three sizes too big, with baggy gray sweatpants. As M neared, the man's eyes locked onto him. He was maybe 27 at most. With large, rosy face, as if he had grown up but the baby he once was decided to keep its cheeks. Brown hair poked through underneath the hat, and he had a wide smile on his face. "Are you The Pri-" M started to ask as he approached, not stopping. Without looking he knew the girl was very close behind him. "YES!" The homeless man cried out in joy "Yes I am, I know you. I know what you need and I will help." He offered an outstretched hand to M, who took it, and they ran. The man ran and ran, pulling M faster than he thought his weary broken body could. The homeless man's hand was oddly warm. Even in the blistering snow. Slightly sweaty. M looked into him as they fled and was amazed. He had never seen such purpose. This man was here on this earth, exactly for this moment in time. No other point before had mattered and M knew nothing after would either. The homeless man was experiencing a state of pure ecstasy, holly unbridled joy. Through a maze of back alleys and near-invisible passages, they emerged. They were here. This was the end of The Path. M knew it. As the came out of the dark alley the snow slowed, all at once, to a beautiful trickle. It was dark by now. With street lights lighting the square. Before them was a magnificently giant cathedral. And before that a statue of a huge being, with wings and long glorious hair. M couldn't tell if it was a demon or angel, it was more than either of those words could hope to describe. The spirit of the girl came around the corner behind them at this moment. And M felt all her fury and pain and fear dissipate at the sight of the statue. M's eyes were locked hopelessly on to her, he was vaguely aware of the homeless holy man doing something beside him. But he could not look away from Her. The little girl slowly walked to the front of the goddess and fell to her knees. M found himself collapsed but could not remember the sensation of falling. His attention was unequivocally hers. Every sense his body had, every hair standing on end, every bit of his focus was hers in that moment. Tunnel vision was an understatement. She was crying, tears of relief streamed forth, so meaningful only a refugee of great and unexplainable pain could understand. He was sucked into her and saw how happy she was. Relieved. Everything was okay now. Everything at peace. "Mommy!" She yelled, sobbing great ugly tears, huge gasping breaths wracked her body. "Mommyyy" she could not get any more words out, and did not need to. For she was heard by the universe. A great pillar of light flashed as she was dissipated, the homeless man's work done. And M laid there. The snow fell. Drifting softy, peacefully. Down from the heavens, licking his face as he slowly faded into unconsciousness.
