Phasmatta - ch 2-

Chapter 2 - Counter -

Ryan unlocked his phone, stuck it down in the center console, angled it toward Carl, and threw the transmission into reverse.

And damn near backed right up into another car.

Pushing the brake he stared out his window at the driver.

It was a young man that was barely in his twenties, Ryan would be. He had on dark clothes and had parked at the curb in front of the house, but part of the front of his car was sticking into the driveway.

He had dark black hair and what looked like dark eyes, but Ryan couldn’t be sure.

“You the newbie?” Ryan asked after rolling down his window and sticking his head out. “Cause if you’re the newbie, we’re going elsewhere and honestly you won’t be able to do much there.”

“I-ah-yeah! It’s my-first-first day,” said the kid. Ryan had reassessed his opinion and now thought the kid was probably eighteen.

“Fuckin’ sending me kids just outta highschool. God damnit. Probably someone’s fuck-buddy’s nephew,” cursed Ryan while rolling up his window. He didn’t have time to waste with the kid.

If he followed, great, if he didn’t, whatever.

“He seems very young,” Carl remarked.

“Har har. The irony,” muttered Ryan while spinning the wheel around. “Where’m I going? I’ll get you that fancy incense you like. Vanilla-the-fuck-ever.”

“Oh? Alright,” Carl said and leaned over, looking at the phone. “End of this street, turn right.”

Ryan did as instructed. Then followed the next seven instructions as Carl led him to wherever the hell they were going. Ryan had noticed that the kid was following along behind him fairly well.

“She’s calling,” Carl reported as Ryan looked back and forth for the address he’d put into the phone. The directions, and Carl, had just said “it’s on the left”. “You should answer.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Ryan. His car didn’t have a working blue-tooth which meant he had to put it on speaker phone. Jabbing out with a finger he hit the accept button. Then jabbed the speaker-phone button. “Hey, on the street, trying to find the address.”

“You are? Okay. Good, yes, good. Newbie found you,” Cindy said. It wasn’t a question so clearly the kid had called her.

“Nephew of someone?” Ryan asked, spotting the vans the investigation team used. They were all labeled as being plumbers, which tended to help when it came to people not wanting others to know what was going on.

The common refrain of, ‘my toilet was clogged’ or, ‘my sump pump died’ was enough for most people.

He pulled up to the driveway and parked in it.

Everyone kept telling him to park on the street in case his vehicle leaked oil, but he figured that was a non-issue if their fucking house was haunted. Oil drips should be the least of their concerns.

“No. Just someone who applied,” Cindy answered. “Pretty sure it’s a Poltergeist as well. Team got cocky and went for a cleanse. Pissed it off real good. Sitting in a circle of salt. Last I heard they were all alive though shook up.”

“A Polty? The fuck are they doing,” complained Ryan. “Polty’s got an arm. Those Holmes-Wannabe’s getting uppity?”

“Michael did it,” Cindy said.

To be fair, that was a fair explanation.

Michael was a cunt, asshole, and dickhead, all rolled into one. Michael was everything wrong with the profession in Ryan’s eyes.

He was also Cindy’s son.

“Course he did. Alright. Going to go in. Anything else?” he asked.

“No. Thank you,” Cindy growled out in her usual tone, though the words were unfamiliar to him.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled, feeling strange. He tapped the disconnect button and then put the car in park. Getting out of the vehicle he decided the best thing he could do was use the investigation teams equipment.

They tended to go in with everything possible and give it all a shot at working.

He was once again in suburbia, though this one was much higher-class then the neighborhood he’d been in previously. The cars he spotted on the streets as well as the decorations were eye-catching and obvious.

Walking over to the van he pulled the door open.

Strewn out on the floor of the vehicle looked to be the usual amount of clutter.

Magazines, plastic bags that’d once contained an item, a cardboard box with wax seals that were used to create safe corridors.

Nothing of use was in the van, though.

The team was either done with their investigation and everything was inside, but they hadn’t started transferring everything out, or they hadn’t brought much to begin with.

Ryan briefly considered checking the other van, but he could see there were no lights on in the cabin, rear, or headlights.

That meant the whole team was inside.

“What-what’re we doing?” asked the kid from behind Ryan.

“Saving the Holmes wannabes,” answered Ryan, closing the door to the van and looking at the newbie. The kid looked just as unknowing.“The work is divided into two parts. Investigation and elimination.

“The first team goes in, investigates the background. House, people, deaths, land, anything, everything. Then they check the actual house and see what’s going on inside.”

Checking his gear, Ryan found everything was it it should be. Though he did go to his trunk and refilled his salt shakers. He also grabbed a baggie full of sage and a lighter.

Those went into one of his magazine pouches as well.

He grabbed a small brass censer he’d picked up at a garage sale and snapped it into place at the corner of his plate-carrier.

There was a small eyelet there that he often hung things off of.

It only hung for about two inches but it was enough to get it clear from his body as well as do what he needed it to, if he needed it.

“They do some tests, use equipment, deduce what kind of spook we got. Then they compile it, put together the highlight reel, and kick it to the elimination team.

“That’s the team I’m a part of. Elimination. There’s not many of us and we tend to work alone or in pairs,” Ryan stated and closed his trunk. He started walking toward the front door. “The investigation team is actively in there and I have to go in there and save them. Sounds like they did the dumb and tried to do my job for me. Or maybe it just got real uppity for no reason. Dunno. Dun care.”

“Oh,” said the kid following Ryan all the way up.

“Don’t cross the threshold. Stay out. The ghosts we go for are almost always tied to the interior of the home,” instructed Ryan, pointing at the open door and it’s doorframe. “Well, that’s not true. Sometimes it’s the land that they’re haunting, but those are much older ghosts. Anyways. Stay here.”

Ryan fished out his white-trash spell-book and flipped through it real quick. Worst thing about Poltergeists was their ability to throw shit around as if they were professional baseball players.

Among his many idiotic spells, all of them low grade and worthless outside of specific circumstances, was one he’d developed that made it hard for ghosts to move things.

He’d been attempting to find a spell to lock ghosts down and this one was a failure in that regard, but it did make it hard for ghosts to moves things.

For a polty, that’d be nasty.

“What’s that?” the kid asked, standing behind him.

“Spells. Shitty ones. I’m too fuckin’ poor to buy a real book,” he muttered as he activated the spell after tearing it out of the book. Then he flicked it into the house.

Drawing his holy-water filled squirt gun and holding it in a low ready position Ryan then entered the home.

The second he crossed over the threshold he felt a stickiness pass over him.

A tacky feeling that left him feeling as if he’d just finished up in the ocean and didn’t wash the saltwater off.

Beyond that, Ryan now knew they were dealing with a nasty piece of work.

Embedded in the walls were any number of household objects. Picture frames, books, silverware, even a tv-remote that was buried halfway into the drywall.

Ooooh boy did you guys pick the wrong day to try and rock a Rambo.

“Carl, any thoughts?” he whispered.

“Bad one. Worst I’ve seen in a bit,” came the hissed response from behind him. “If you manage to win, I think you’ll level up.”

Ryan smirked at that, then shook his head. All that told him was he needed to go in with over-whelming force.

Reaching down he rotated the knob on the spirit-squawk-box to on. Then he pulled out the sage, stuck it into the censer, closed it, then sparked it up with the lighter.

Given Carl’s warning, Ryan wasn’t going to play it safe.

He was going to nuke the site from orbit. Because it was the only way to be sure.

Once the smoke from the sage started to waft out Ryan pocketed the lighter, then pulled out another spell. Tearing it out he empowered it, then stuffed it up under his plate carrier and behind it.

A simple spell of blessing and safety, written out by a burnt out ex-priest who Ryan got favors out of by helping him talk to spirits.

Ryan felt more secure as the spell went off, but his senses were on high-alert.

Shifting forward, he began to quietly move through the ground floor. He noted a set of stairs that led upward but didn’t attempt them yet.

Moving room by room, he confirmed that they were all empty. Each of them had a UV-glow stick at the entry point. There was also a smoldering and almost burnt out bundle of herbs wrapped up in a burrito like roll.

Someone had attempted to use it and lost hold of it.

Panicked, I guess. Probably the wrong herbs, too.

Wait… no… those are the right ones.

Glancing at it, he now understood just how big of a bad-ass this Poltergeist was. It’d gone right through a spirit stick filled with herbs specific to it.

He could tell since the tag at the bottom which was unburnt was listed as “Ps+”. Or in otherworlds Poltergeist Plus, a super powered version of a normal spirit stick.

Big bad mamma-jamma. The fuck is this brick-shit house doing here? God-damn upper-class suburbia nightmare.

Doubling back, Ryan reached the stairs and noted the basement.

Heading down into it he saw it was empty of anything that indicated frequency of access and only held boxes.

Probably filled with decorations.

Nodding his head, he realized this would be the best spot to disperse it.

Here, surrounded by the earth and acting akin to a tomb.

He headed back up and then took the stairs to the second floor.

Slowly climbing upward a deliberate step at a time.

When he reached the top he saw he was in a small open area that branched off into several other rooms.

A toppled over camera set on a tripod stood in front of one doorway. A quick couple thoughts popped through his head and he figured that the camera was staring into the room it was in front of, rather than out of.

Which meant that was likely where the team was.

Easing up to the door slowly, quietly, Ryan saw what he was looking for.

Three people were huddled together in a shivering mass in the corner of the large master bedroom. They were surrounded by a semi-circle of salt that had them pushed up to the wall.

A fourth person, or a corpse Ryan figured, was laid out in the doorway to the bathroom. It’s head was facing the wrong way.

Ooh fuck.

So much for ‘everyone is safe’.

Someone got got and now they can see their own ass.

Lingering in the shadows near the circle of salt, through the flickering light of the bulbs, Ryan saw what he was here for.

The Poltergeist was completely manifested and actively hunting.

It’s ethereal figure was a grotesque manifestation of it’s coming into being. A twisted form, resembling a skeletal being with unnaturally elongated limbs and tattered, ghostly garments.

It’s eyes were black pools of emptiness and longing.

Of absolute loneliness and resentment of being alone. There was no light in their depths, only darkness.

Long shards of some type of glass stuck out of it’s skin as well as what looked like long hooks. Sticking out of it in every direction and oozing blood from each.

Anger and fear in equal measure thumped out of the specter.

Holy shit it’s bordering on a demon. God damn.

A long withered arm stretched out to the circle of salt and stopped at it’s edge. Testing the boundaries and prodding at it. It then let out a hiss.

“… soon… time… eat… soon….” Crackled the spirit-squawk-box in a discordant voice. “… soon… death… sweet…”

Oh my fuck, haha. It really is right on the edge of being a demon. I can’t just disperse this fucker. It’d just come back in a few months and more pissed than ever.

I’m going to have to corner it and let it wither for a while.

“Hey there spooky!” Ryan boomed out, his water pistol lined up on the body of the creature. He squeezed the trigger twice then turn and bolted.

A loud roar and a hiss sounded off behind him, causing Ryan’s heart to lurch wildly.

“… death… pain… death… death… death… kill…”

Hahahaaa… no.

No thanks!

Slamming against the floorboards Ryan turned, then sprinted down the stairs, and down the basement stairs. His boots pounding on the way down even as the lights began to flicker and hum behind him.

The Poltergeist was catching up to him very quickly.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” cursed Ryan as he hit the basement floor. He stumbled forward. Snatching out a shalt shaker he quickly made a semi-circle in front of himself. Deliberately leaving the back open.

Looking up he saw the Poltergeist coming down toward him. Though it was doing so by crawling along the wall.

Like a spider.

“Fuck you’re a gross one,” Ryan mumbled and extended the semi-circle backwards. Giving it several feet of lines of salt that went to the wall, but didn’t completely make it. There was an obvious gap and opening there.

“… eat… eat… death… sweet…” offered the spirit-squawk-box helpfully.

“Oh? Pass. You’re not my type. You’ve got that model thin thing goin’ on but no boobs and— aaaagh!” Ryan blurted out as the Poltergeist literally leapt at him from the wall.

That was entirely outside of his expectations, but he could work with it.

Slamming into him the Poltergeist seemed shocked.

In a colossal amount of pain and shocked.

First, it’d been bounced backward and rejected from the space. Crossing salt wasn’t a choice, but a physical repulsion.

Ryan had no idea why, but that was just the rules of the spirit world. A gigantic spiritual no-no that wasn’t able to be broken.

Nor had it been able to grab him as it intended. Even if it was rebounded from the salt, it theoretically could have pulled him across.

As long as it was willing to pay the price for forcefully trying to cross salt.

It hadn’t been able to grab him though.

The seals on his gear as well as the active spell protected him as intended.

The hideous fingers lacking fingernails slid right off him. Moving past him almost as if he were slick ice and its hands were skates.

“Ya dumb bastard, you made this even easier than I thought it would be,” Ryan hissed while holstering his water pistol.

Then he stopped dead. The Poltergeists fathomless eyes had never left him. They were latched to him.

Skittering on all fours, it quickly went around the barrier of salt to the open spot he’d put. Ignoring the pain it was going through and catching Ryan off guard.

Stepping past the barrier of salt, since it wasn’t a barrier to him, Ryan pulled out his salt shakers and hucked them at the floor.

Each one shattered into a million glass shards and salt was liberally sprayed everywhere. In the shakers there was more than enough to create a horrible and messy barrier of salt.

As if it were a coloring book worked on by a three year old, salt spread out wildly behind the spirit.

Wild strokes that joined up in multiple places but were patchwork as well.

Rushing over to the back of the salt circle, Ryan used his boot and started pushing it into a mound. Quickly encircling the ghost as it tried to cope with the salt it’d tried to cross, as well as the enclosure it was now in.

“That isn’t how you disperse them,” Carl remarked. He was sitting on one of the stairs that led down.

“No shit bud, this thing wouldn’t be dispersed regardless of what I did. It’s time for operation Fortunato,” grumbled Ryan as the Poltegeist took swipes at him over the salt.

Each time it did it continues to roar and hiss, screaming wordlessly

Thankfully Ryan’s spell and seals were still active, but he could tell they were wanning quickly due to the onslaught.

Finishing, Ryan ducked away and took several feet away from the bastard, panting hard.

The Poltergeist lifted its hands up and made throwing motions.

Several boxes nearby shuddered, tipped over, and landed on the ground with a thud.

“Yeah. No more throwing. You’re in a… a time-out, buster,” Ryan proclaimed, wagging a finger on his left hand at it. With his right hand he pulled out his cell phone. He tapped Cindy’s number.

She picked up instantly.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Got’em,” Ryan said in a huff, staring at the Poltergeist. “Saw someone down. Head was on backwards. Didn’t see who. Three alive. Dunno beyond that.

“Took the entity and bolted to the basement. I’ve got them here in a salt time-out. It’s too strong to disperse given how enraged it is and how strong it is. This would’ve been a month long chit-chat and knock down.

“Not much I can do now. I need that stupid plan I put together. Fortunato. I’ve got a priest that can do the post-stuff. Think you can have Fortunato delivered to this location?”

“Yes,” Cindy said, sounding incredibly relieved. Then hung up on him.

“Guess her precious daughter-in-law is up there and alive,” Carl offered up.

“Yeah, probably,” grumbled Ryan. He really didn’t want to think about Marla right now. She was the absolute last thing he wanted to deal with after having dealt with this bastard of a specter.

“Kids coming,” Carl remarked, glancing over his shoulder.

“What? Why?” Ryan asked sounding angry and confused.

“He’s following Marla,” answered Carl helpfully.

Groaning, Ryan let his head fall forward, staring at his feet. Then he nodded it as this was clearly what would happen.

“You leveled up. You didn’t beat it in the normal way, but you beat it,” Carl offered in a “cheer up!” kind of voice. “See? Look. You even have your first stat point. You can put it where-ever you want!”

“You couldn’t disperse it?” asked a female voice. It sounded like they were at the bottom of the stairs now.

Behind him, really.

There was a slight lilt to the words that lent itself to an accent the couldn’t place, but was certainly slightly foreign..

“Nope. Fucker’s ramped to the moon like a meth-head digging for crumbs in the carpet and just as anxious,” Ryan said, still not looking up. “Cindy’s sending me stuff for a plan I have to get him taken care of. Someone will have to come back later with a priest to make sure it’s done.

“Who… went down? I didn’t get a good look.”

“… eat… eat… hungry… need… need… need… need…”

“Scott,” Marla said in a whisper. “It was Scott.”

Ryan took in a short breath, then let it out.

That was a surprise, but also not a surprise.

He’d been steady with the detective work but shaky when things went wild. It wouldn’t be surprising for him to break the salt circle’s protective barrier.

This was all a bit of a shock, if Ryan was being honest.

People got hurt sometimes, but a death wasn’t something that’d ever happened since he’d starting working for Cindy.

“… kill… kill… eat… eat… pain… pain… help…” protested the spirit-squawk-box.

“What’s the plan you mentioned?” asked the kid. It sounded like he was right next to Marla. Ryan was still refusing to look up.

“Found salt on sale in bulk. Since we need it for work, I did it as a write off and bought a whole bunch,” Ryan said, staring at his boots. He didn’t mention he’d spent several nights when he couldn’t sleep filling containers with said salt. “Going to brick this fucker up in salt. Plan Fortunato.

“Leave him there for a month or so then disperse it once they’re weakened. Shouldn’t be that hard at that point.”

Ryan took the censer hanging down and opened the side. He shook the burning sage out next to the salt then closed the censer again. Not looking up, pretending Marla didn’t exist, he headed upstairs.

“Heading back to my original job. Come on, kid. Nothing for you to learn here,” muttered Ryan. He saw Marla’s shoes as he passed by but still didn’t look up.

When he exited the house her heard the spirit-squawk-box hissing, but he coudln’t make out the words. The Poltergeist was still muttering to itself.

“… Ryan…” he heard far too clearly.

Which meant it wasn’t real.

Clicking his tongue, realizing he’d need to cleanse himself later with several blessing or a trip to holy ground.

He turned the knob to the off position on the device and went to his car. He still had a job to do.