Andy

Elizabeth scoffs and rolls her eyes, putting down some distance between us, shaking her head as she goes. She doesn’t say anything else, which almost makes it worse.

“I didn’t tell them to do that.” I defend, and for some reason, I thought that was a good response with everything already teetering on a ridgid cliff.

“Oh, really?” She inquired, tone sarcastic. “Well then, I hope to God I don’t cross you again, because you’ll sick them after me and I’ll turn up with some unexplainable injuries, too.”

“They won’t hurt you.” I mumble.

“Yeah? What if you tell them to?”

“I wouldn’t.” I narrow my eyes at her a bit, causing her to shrug. “Whatever... I have to go check on Reece.”

“Eliza... Wait.”

She pulls open the door and hesitates, looking back at me. “I truly hope that you get all of this sorted out soon... I miss my friend. The one who’s identity wasn’t defined by what she has.”

I grit my teeth and cross my arms, unable to fully process everything. I keep losing her just as soon as I reel her in. We kiss and make up and things are good again for a bit... And then one of us does something to betray the other and we’re back to bad terms like two twelve year-olds fuming at each other over a mutual crush.

“You should probably change...” Andy’s voice comes from behind me, sounding hesitant and quiet. “If your parents see all the blood, they’ll lose their minds.”

I clentch my jaw and turn to look at him. He looks guilty enough, and it stops me from reaming him. He meant well, I know that... I just feel like there could have been a softer touch to deal with the puke stain that is Reece. He’s one of those people that you can bleach out again and again, but it never seems to go away.

“Right.” I sigh, and go to my locker.

~~~


I don’t get the chance to speak to Elizabeth again before I start walking home. We did make eye contact from across the court while the medic was inspecting his knees, but there was nothing in her eyes for me.

The medic looked me over, and appeared just as confused as everyone else.

“You should have a facture or something... But nothing. You’re pretty lucky.” She laughs, putting her things back into the duffle bag of supplies she’s brought down. I caught a glimpse of the boxes of gauze inside. It looks more like she’s prepared for a murder scene than a simple volley ball mishap.

I smile, trying to seem and normal and as at ease as possible. Once she turns away, it is gone.

I am released with nothing more than a short lecture from Coach Joan about being more aware, and a form for my parents to read over. I will have destroyed it before I get home.

We collect Ashley from the bleachers, and head out and begin the lengthly walk home in almost complete silence. We had enough problems before we even walked into the gym. Now there’s just more issues to contend with.

Ashley is the first to break the ice, surprisingly. “So, what exactly are we doing tonight?”

Andy winces in thought, “Well, we have to dig you up, for one. And me, too, if Juliet isn’t able to recover my jar from my dorm.”

“Well, then, we’ll just have figure something out.” I murmur, feeling the weight of my phone in my pocket. I pull it out and check - no new messages.

We don’t discuss it much more... We already have the daunting task stuck in our heads. We’re going to dig up a body that was laid to rest over seven years ago... Why? Because demons are after us. Of course that’s a logical response.

“We’ll drop by the church before we go home and grab the Holy Water. Do you still have the empty jugs?”

Andy produces both of them, dangling from his thumbs to match his cheeky grin.

“Excellent... Might as well get started on blessing the property.”

“What if they refuse to give us water? Don’t they need a viable reason to give it to you?”

I shrug. “I hope telling them I just need it to secure my home will be enough to appease them.”

“And if that fails, we can go ghost-mode and get it ourselves.” Ashley says in determination.

“We can’t steal it! Stealin from a church is like... One of the top crimes.”

“Psshh.” Asshley snorts, “they’ve got plenty, they can share.”

“With any luck, they’ll have the fountain in the lounge area and we won’t have to explain to the priest whyy we need it.”

“Those websites did say they usually keep holy water on hand in some sort of vessel near the entry - though, do we even know the safe way to obtain it? Like do we have to say a prayer as we gather it or something?” Andy wonders, swinging the jugs in time with his stride.

“I suppose we’ll find out.”

The church came into view seven minutes later. Catholic churches are always built with overkill in mind, so of course there were soaring gothic bell towers and and spade shaped spikes adorning the wrought iron gate enclosing the property. We stood outside the open gate, gripping the flawless black bars in an iron grip, pressing against them as we look up at the impressive building.

Great, big pine tree hug the steep cobblestone walls, guarding the barred windows and crisp, white painted shutters.

“Well, no time like the present.” Andy sighs, and looks to Ashley, “you coming, man?”

“I think I’ll wait here.” Ashley deadpans, eyeing the upper stained glass windows where the crookedly cut pieces of primary colored glass formed an image of Christ hanging from his cross with his desciples at his feet.

“What? Scared of a little confession?” Andy taunts, slapping his shoulder. “We’ll be back soon. Don’t talk to strangers, and don’t go with anybody.”

I pause, taking a moment to muster up the courage to enter the gate and walk up to the front doors. Churches are supposed to be open and friendly - right? Not tall, dark, and haunting, and looking like the equalvelant of Dracula’s castle.

“Do you think any of this will even matter?” I murmur as we step through the threashold, making our way down the brick path dividing the currently dead lawn. Not for an ominious effect, of course, it is early spring, afterall.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to a great deal of trouble just to save our skin... Is any of this even going to work?”

I throw a glance over my shoulder at Ashley, and he still stands there, watching us go with unreadable eyes.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I’ve been thinking... What if we fail?”

We stop on the front steps of the chapel and look to one another with troubled eyes. There’s a glimmer of fear present in his eyes that I had never seen before.

“I mean, it is my only Earthly job to look after you. If my guardianship is gone, what else am I supposed to do?... Where will I go?”

“What does that mean?” I cock my head in confusion, trying to wrap my mind around what he is saying.

He grits his teeth and looks down, “If something happens to you... If you die, I die... And I don’t know what comes after that. So I have to keep you alive at all costs.”

“Because your ass is on the line?” I semi-joke, watching his expression very carefully.

“Because both our asses are on the line.” He replies grimly, “If you die - they win.”

My brow creases as I look at him in confusion. “Who are they, exactly? You’ve been pretty vauge on that factor.”

He sighs and throws a look at Ashley standing down the path, pacing along the sidewalk on the opposite site of the wrought iron fence. “Imagine the most terrifying, grotesque creature you have ever seen... And imagine seeing some human elements in it’s skeletal face, but also some otherwordly elements...”

“The one you fought in the woods...” I pause, “You pushed back on it’s face, but the way your hand conformed to it... It wasn’t human at all.” My voice shakes with anxiety. “It looked like a dog.”

He flexes his jaw a bit, looking like he’s actually struggling to get some words out. “It sounds cheesy as fuck, but the more ‘souls’ you consume, the more you start to replicate the people you stole from. That one in the woods had a thing for stray dogs, I think...”

“Animals, too?”

“They’re not as potent, but they’ll do the trick.” He murmurs, placing a hand on the handle of the door. I look down at his hand, and back to his face. “Have you?”

He quickly shakes his head, “No. I haven’t needed to, and I wouldn’t even if I did... It’s not only the appearance you take on, but their mannurisms and quirks, as well. I’d rather stay away from that.”

He blinks and clears his throat. “Shall we?”

I hesitate, now not as sure of it as I was five minutes ago. “Will the holy water even do anything?”

“It’ll create a barrier. I can confirm that. It’s all we can do right now.”

Not a lot of choices... More often than not, I catch myself thinking about the extraordinarily absurd things that have so casually become apart of my everyday life. It’s very strange when talking about spirits eating stray dogs can be as casual of a conversation as catching up with an old friend about work.

I nod towards the door and he pushes it open with little effort. The heavy looking wood door drifts inwards, shedding a triangle of brillant sunlight across the foyer lit by high-hanging glass chandeliers. The entryway is paved with deep red carpet, and the accent furniture is all painted a sleek, inky black to match the brooding exterior.

We hear laughter, and we look to one another. “It’s a weekday.” I murmur, and nod towards the direction of the sound. We follow it down the main hallway to a pair of double doors left cracked open. I peek inside, and see a large group of people milling around the pews, dressed in black lace and velvet dresses, dabbing their eyes with neatly folded tissues. In front of all the people, atop the stage and behind the marble podium, is a long, ghostly white casket. Around it, are tall, clear vases full of white calla lillies and orchids. There’s a poppy wreath to the left of the stage with a large photo of a girl in a long, neon pink gown, holding the arm of her date with a massive smile.

“Oh... It’s a funeral.” I murmur, informing Andy. He peeks around me through the sliver in the door at the elaborate arrangement and frowns.

“That’s not fair.” He sighs.

Something sparks in his eyes, and it drives him to push open the door further and venture in. I hang back, just trying to keep from being spotted.

He walks ever so slowly towards the stage where the coffin stands. His steps are graceful and precise.

He doesn’t spend a lot of time looking at the people in attendance. Instead, he swiftly makes his way towards the back of the room where the coffin sits atop a stretcher covered in lace.

His mouth opens and he places his hand on the edge of the coffin, peeking in. He looks to his left, and appears to be speaking, though no one is there. He nods a few times, and reaches out towards the invisible being to do what looks like placing his hand on their shoulder. He looks at them with an open, honest expression and nods again, mouthing words I cannot hear.

After another two minutes, he spreads his arms and wraps them around thin air, and smiles sadly.

They talk for a bit longer, and he gestures towards the casket, and then gestures towards the door where I wait. He doesn’t break eye contact as he explains, and from the way he is pointing and the expressions he is making, I have no doubts that he’s telling her about the ‘passing over’ bit he had figured out early on.

I decide to go ahead and finish searching for the ‘fountain of holy water’. Multiple websites stated that most Catholic churches keep large reserves of it near the main enterance, but I can confirm that no such thing existed in that foyer.

I peeked into a few of the adjacent rooms, seeking a room that might contain an unusually ornate fountain spewing the blessed goods, but I didn’t find anything that matched my imaginations’ interpretation.

My nosiness may or may not have paid off when I opened a door and found myself face to face with the priest. He is sitting behind his desk signing some papers, and looks just as startled to see me as I feel.

“Hello, Father.” I greet him with a quick nod, trying to excuse myself as quickly as possible from the awkward interaction.

“Hello, child... How can I help you?”

Well, Hell, I mean, he is offering...

“Do you know where I can get some holy water?”

His brow creases in confusion and concern, and I start to wonder if there’s a secret term for it that only the holiest of people know.

“What for, if I might ask?”

“I need to bless my house.” It’s not a lie...

He cocks his head a bit, and purses his lips in thought, and I immediately expect him to say ‘no, sorry, you don’t attend my church, therefor - I cannot give you any.’ but surprisingly, that’s not his immediate answer.

“Why the urgency?”

“I think I have something... Dark in my house...”

“I would be more than glad to come do a proper cleansing for you-” He began to offer, getting up from his chair. I interupted him as politely as I could manage. “Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.” I smile, trying not to look troubled or act like I am possessed, myself. “I just want to protect my property, then those things will go back into the woods... I think.” I tack on at the end, because the truth is, I have not got a clue what kind of an affect it will have.

He squints at me a bit, looking like he’s judging me, but that’s a sin, so I have to scratch it up as him just trying to read me better.

“Holy water is something I only give out to trusted members of my clergy.” He states it in a slow, calm, patronizing voice, like it’s something I should know already. “And I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in attendance at one of my sermons.”

I shake my head, trying to remain as honest as I can whilst staying on his good side. “I am not a member of your church... I actually go to another church.”

“Really?” He inquires with a fake undertone of excitement, “Which one?”

“Riverside.” I state blandly, hoping he doesn’t pick up on the fact that it’s not even a branch of the Catholic churches in Pendant... But of course, he frickin notices.

“Riverside...” He muses, tugging on the hairs of his scrawny greying beard thoughtfully. “That’s a Church for Christians.” He states the obvious. “You’re not Catholic?”

“No, sir.” I have to keep forcing that upbeat ‘I’m-not-going-to-murder-you’ tone.

“Then why didn’t you approach your own priest about your predicament?”

Shit.

“Because they don’t have holy water.” I lie, I mean, I don’t know, but I didn’t bother finding out because I didn’t want my parents to know when father big-mouth decides to bring it up to them.

He squints at me again, and this time I’m certain it’s in judegment. “Are you sure about that, miss?”

I nod.

“Hmm...” He hums, looking down at his desk, clasping his fingers together atop his paperwork.

“You seem pretty young, miss... Which makes me think you might be doing this without your guardian’s consent.” He raises his gaze to me with so much authority I struggle to maintain eye contact under the pressure. “Is that what you are doing?”

Well, what the hell am I supposed to respond with? If I say no, he’ll probably want to see my ID as proof, and if I say yes, he’ll make sure word of this gets back to my parents and church.

“Yes...” I sigh.

“Do your guardians know that you need Holy water for a cleansing?” He cocks his head again.

I shake my head, “They do not.”

“Have they, too, experienced the wraith of your unholy guests?”

Ooh it took a lot to not narrow my eyes at him suspiciously. I know right away what he’s trying to get at, and I’m not having any of it.

“No,” I reply curtly, “In fact, Father, they don’t know about any of it, because they wouldn’t believe me, anyways.”

“Do other people see the things you do?” He asks in a suggestive tone, remaining perfectly calm, like calling me clinically insane wasn’t wrong of him to do on his part.

“Of course they do... If the spirits want to be seen.” I say it in the same tone he’d used earlier when implying that the holy water was for his church members only.

“How do you know that?” He asks with that perfessional tone of curiosity again.

“Because one of them is my best friend.” I narrow my eyes at him, unable to control my expression. “And he’s here with me right now.”

“Demons cannot enter the church.” He waves his hand dismissively.

“I didn’t say he was a demon,” I say through gritted teeth, “I said spirit, okay? And right now, he’s all I’ve got to keep them at bay unless you help me.”

“Keep what at bay?”

“What is this?! Twenty questions?! The demons in the woods behind my house! They’re the angered, mutilated spirits of the civillians killed by Charlie Apture in the 50’s. They’re up there in the Deadzone, and they’re angry.”

That definitely sounded insane.

“Ma’am...” He says after a long, thoughtful pause. “Would you mind taking a seat while I make a call?”

“I’m not doing anything you say.” I spat through gritted teeth, “You’re probably one of them for Christ’s sake.”

That was the only thing to get a rise out of him. He lifts his eyebrows and gives me a hard look. “Listen, young lady, do not take-”

“The Lord’s name in vain.” I growl. “Yeah, I know. I’m religious, I was raised with morals and values and taught from a very young age to always help someone who asks for help, that is something you could stand to learn.”

“I am going to ask you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m going to prove to you that I’m not crazy.”

“I think you do need help. Please let me help you.”

“You’re not going to help me the way I asked, will you?” I sigh, the hopelessness coming through in my voice. “You’re either going to ship me off to an asylum, or you’re going to wait until you see my name in the obituaries.”

That was enough to get him to pay close attention.

“Please help me, because if you don’t, I don’t know how much more the three of us can do.” I sigh, dropping my arms to my sides.

Something about him changed. He wasn’t trying to be a smartass anymore, and he wasn’t trying to reach for the phone now. Something in his expression pushed me to keep going.

“I can prove it to you - I can. Let me get him.”

He looks skeptical, but he doesn’t preach of his distrust, and instead, nods, giving me the go-ahead to prove myself.

"Okay, miss?..."

“Asheen Hunter.” I sigh.

“Okay, Asheen... You’ve piqued my interest. Prove to me that the spirits are real, and the holy water is yours.”

“I thought holy figures weren’t supposed to make deals?” I cock an eyebrow, then sigh. “Anyways, you’ve got it. I’ll be back in ten minutes with the best evidence I can possibly provide.”

Notes

Not gonna lie - I've had this written for like two weeks but couldn't post it because I wasn't sure about it yet. The way this chapter is set up plays into the events of the next and I had to make sure this one was a good predecessor

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season, and are just as pumped as me for the release of Vale on the 12th!

Also, I found this lovely song today and it matches the events taking place in the story later on. I can always use new inspirational tracks! On that note, if you have any songs that you think match this story, please comment them! I like building soundtracks for the stories I write.

Ashes of Eden - Breaking Benjamin

Here's the complete playlist of my current soundtrack.

Andy Soundtrack