After The Gods Have Died Chapter 4

The Tale of Room 620

There was only one other bedroom in the apartment, obviously the girl's. The decor was a mishmash of stuff from every show aimed at her age group, from Sailor Moon to Power Rangers. It would have been cute if there hadn't been a visible layer of dust over everything, a testament to how long she'd been plagued by the boogyman. Callum didn't even need to look to know where the closet was, nestled against the wall to his right. He could feel it in the air, the shadows thick and heavy. Oppression and despair hung about to be breathed in at every moment, to wiggle and burrow into pores. Even those with no link to the spiritual side of the world would be able to tell that there was something wrong here, something malicious. The exorcist was willing to bet that Mr. Powell would have moved from here the minute the infestation started if it had been feasible for them.

Callum turned to face the closet, a word murmured under his breath to strengthen his eyes, though it was almost an unnecessary step. From the shape of the walls and the size of the room it was clear the closet was a small one but looking into its open doors it appeared to be endless. Ink and void inhabited the space instead of clothes and toys. It was bad. Usually the cases Callum saw it was just a heavy shadow that seemed to eat the light that spilled in rather than absorb it entirely like this one was. Still he could handle it, he just wondered how long Jack had feared it without saying a word. She seemed like a tough kid, she's have to be to face this and still have her mind intact. He pulled his hair out of its bun only to pull it back up, trapping more have than before so that none of the stray hairs could tickle and break his concentration.

He started with runes of protection and containment. Though he'd had the girl line the entrances to the room with salt he really didn't want the boogyman escaping this room. It would be hell to track it down if it managed to get out of here, spirits that were made up of shadows were slippery things that could hide in hard to reach places. He'd made the mistake once of not putting up the barriers and lost a boogyman out in the streets. It hadn't been all that old, barely more than a few wisps of shadows and he'd not thought it would be that big of a deal, after all he did get it away from where he'd been paid too but when it resurfaced it was monumentally worse. It had turned deadly, claiming more than one life before it spiked on Callum's radar again. Those deaths were on his hands and he wasn't about to let that happen again. Especially not with a boogyman that had been feasting for as long as this one clearly had.

The runes sizzled and burned into the air before they vanished, their power spreading to do Callum's will. It wasn't until he felt them settle that he made his next move. Rolling up his hoodie sleeve, the exorcist held a hand out toward the black hole. The limb was limp, fingers curled into a resting position, everything about the pose was non-threatening, almost crossing the closet's threshold. If he could lure the creature out it would make this fight a lot easier. Of course nothing about this week had been easy for Callum, why would this have been any different. The boogyman only shifted in its pit, not taking the bait.

“Fine, you wanna play that way we will.” Callum grumbled before he regained his focus. The purple bags under his eyes were heavy, his mouth set itself into a grim line. For once he looked like the powerful exorcist he claimed to be instead of a lost child playing grown up. “Get out here.”

His command was laced with power from his lips, the words tingling his tongue to confirm the magic they held. Unfortunately the boogyman wasn't all that impressed, some sticky mockery of laughter pressing in on the air. The words were repeated more forcefully this time, Callum wasn't going to take shit from a spirit. This time it listened, compelled to follow the directions though it was clearly trying to fight against it. Limbs made of nothingness and nightmares thrashed at the closet's entrance, whipping the air angrily as if it had been the thing to betray them. It might have been feasting on Jack's fears but clearly the forging had made it slow and sluggish. This boogyman would be an easy exorcism.

“Creature of darkened dreams.” Callum started the needed chant. Again he failed to follow what tradition and training had taught him, he's learned on his own that it was his belief in the words that mattered, not the actual words themselves. “The light you eat is sacred, your actions are blasphemous. Children are not a feast for your never ending hunger. Remove yourself from this place or be destroyed.”

There was laughter once more, a grating sound that made Callum's skin crawl with disgust. It brought a rolling, a shifting from within the void. This was going to be an annoying battle it seemed, this particular boogyman was obnoxious. Still Callum wasn't concerned, this wasn't anything more than an attempt to scare the exorcist, an attempt that was doomed to fail. He repeated himself, two chances to leave before he brought a spirit or demon their death seemed reasonable, particularly since the Fortuna method was to always kill. It wasn't that the redhead was sympathetic to the spirits, he just found it less draining to bind a creature from entry to this world than to destroy it completely. Of course it was just another reason his family hated him and favoured is sister, she was just as ruthless as the rest of them. The downside to his 'humane' method was that he sometimes underestimated his opponent. They usually chose to be alive and banished rather than suffer through an exorcism.

It was that assumption that grab the boogyman a chance to curl dripping, damp shadow limbs around Callum, pulling into into the creature's nest.

“Fucking shit.” Talking in the haze of darkness was difficult, the light from the door barely more than a dim glow. Clearly this one wasn't reasonable. No way he was going to escape having to destrforoy it. Well, at least he'd given it a choice, it wasn't Callum's fault he'd chosen wrong.

The redhead struggled in the creature's hold, ideally he'd get himself free before he attempted anything else, this atmosphere would only hinder his words. Unfortunately he'd not expected to find the hold impossible to break, destroying his new plan in one fell swoop. Right about now he was wishing he was charging more, increased difficulty should increase the cost but Mr. Powell needed the low price he'd been quoted. It would make Callum feel like shit to change that now. The exorcist let his body go limp, pretending to give up the struggle in one last attempt for freedom. He followed it with another hard thrash against his bonds in the direction of the faint light but the shadows only tightened their grip. It was time for him to think on his feet, his usual deal wasn't going to work.

The boogyman hadn't bound his hands, just his arms and only the tops of them at that. Even with his limbs pinned Callum was not defenceless. He closed his eyes to the darkness, refusing to let it dampen his spirit or wiggle into his fear, tracing runes against his jeans. He almost didn't need the chant that was barely breathed to assist the runes, he knew them so well they would flare to life in his fingers at just a thought. They weren't exclusive to his style of exorcism, anyone even halfway good would have this in their repertoire for moments just like this. They called forth light, a clear, strong light to sear at the darkness around Callum. No shadow was so strong it could fight this light, their bodies forced to stretch away from the source if they wanted to survive.

The boogyman let go, hissing and retreating as far from the light as it could manage, a moving mass of void.

“You chose this.” Callum gave the grim reminder before he added more strength to his runes, flicking them free of his fingers. “Eliminate the shadows.”

That wasn't a command he would need to repeat, his runes always listened to him. Right now they flew about, a cold flame licking at the angry nothingness until it was only a dark spot on the wall. That was a stain no cleaner or portion would be able to remove, the only physical trace that proved the boogyman was ever there. Callum sighed and slumped down to the floor, trying to catch his breath and slow his pulse. He'd made some dumb mistakes this time, he'd need to be more careful in the future. Just like those he fought, the redhead would rather stay alive, stay breathing. He could dwell on his fuck ups later, for now he was just glad the small family that had hired him would be able to sleep through the night tonight.

After another heavy sigh confirmed that his lungs were in fact still working and the spots in his vision faded, Callum figured it was time to try and get up. As he was pushing himself up off the floor however, something caught his eye. There was a shimmering in his magic, bright spots in the now seemingly dim natural light. There was something in the corner where the boogyman had tried to escape to, a rune or a spell or something. Callum didn't like that. Never before had be known a feareater like a boogyman to use that kind of magic, it was supposed to lay in the shadows and the shadows alone. This was more than that. The exorcist stuck a tip of one finger in his mouth, pulling it back out when it was wet down to the first knuckle, hoping to give his next move the added power from his lip piercings. He dragged the damp fingertip over the hidden rune or seal. He didn't care what it was for or what it was trying to do, he wanted it gone.

“Void.”

There was a flash of light that was brighter than his runes had been, blacking out his vision for a few terrifying moments, especially when it refused to be blinked away at first. When his sight did clear there was no trace of a shimmer, whatever it was vanished with the light. Good. The job was done and young Jack should find herself free of nightmares. At least free of the constant, intense nightmares that had been plaguing her. Finally getting to his feet he wasn't surprised to find his legs wanting to give out. It have still been a fairly simple exorcism but that haze of fear he'd been pulled into was strong. Callum grimaced at the fluttering his heart seemed to assume was necessary. He needed to get his ass home so that he could sleep this shit off.

Stumbling out of the closet revealed one reason the light had seemed so dim. It was darker outside than Callum had thought it would be, the sun was casting its rich red light on the sparse clouds. The whole thing had taken longer than he'd planned for it to, hopefully the father and daughter weren't too scared, huddled together in the room next door. He straightened his clothes, wishing there was a mirror in here so he could check to make sure he didn't look too horrifying but he was willing to bet if there had been one at one point they moved it after the boogyman set up shop. They liked to use them as a source of fear, even now Callum's sister couldn't have on in her bedroom at night though she'd claim it was because she was modest and didn't need it. He knew better, he remembered her terrified shouts when they were young.

Callum redid his hair for the third time that day, this time leaving it long in a ponytail, at least then the mess looked intentional, like he'd made it messy on purpose. His legs didn't want to work but they did as they were told, taking him out of the room that already felt lighter, towards the family waiting on his update. He knocked first before opening the door, he didn't want them to get scared and think something inhuman was coming in.

“Halt!”

Jack jumped out from behind the corner, salt clutched tight in her little hands like a makeshift weapon. Actually against the types of creatures that had been bothering them lately it wouldn't be terrible. Her face broke into a smile when she saw him, at least for a moment, but then a thought must have passed through her mind because her expression had hardened again. “Are the ghostbuster? The real one?”

“Yup. It's really me. Sprinkle me with some of that salt though, just in case. It'll help make sure nothing's hanging on.” Callum help out his hand, palm up so she could test him. Actions were more trustworthy than words, especially after an encounter with something like a boogyman who could take any shape they wanted in dreams, tell any lie. She eyed him warily but did it anyway, pouring a small pile of the white grains in his hand. Nothing happened. He even brought the palm to his mouth, licking the salt and grimacing at the taste.

“Ew!” That seemed to be enough for her, accomplishing his task. She wore a smile now, giggling at his absurdity. Jack stepped aside so he could come in, regaling the tale of his stupidity to her dad as if he'd not just witnessed it for himself. The stunt was worth it if it put her at ease and helped them both forget any fears that he wasn't truly himself.

“So it's all gone. There's a stain in the closet corner but it's harmless, I promise.” Callum's words brought relief to the father's face, years melting away with the first real smile he'd worn in what the redhead was willing to bet was months at least.

“Oh they were right when they recommended you.” Mr. Powell's statement surprised Callum. He wasn't aware anyone would recommend him beyond in an occasional list of non-Fortuna exorcists. Usually i was the flat rate he offered when bidding for a job although unlike his usually fare he'd not heard a radio ad to help this family. He was just being paranoid, after effects of the boogyman fight. Why would a recommendation be weird, he did work in this city before.

“Who recommended me?” Still Callum needed to ask, his curiosity wouldn't let him just leave it alone.

“Oh um this older woman from the company I originally spoke wi-”

“Whoa mister! Nice ring!” Jack cut her dad off but it was too late. Callum had already figured out where the rest of that sentence was going and it made him nervous. His family hated him and his methods, why would they recommend him to anyone? He was so preoccupied with the questions that information brought that he didn't register what the girl had said until she grabbed at his hand to examine it.

“I'm not wearing a...” His voice trailed off. He was wearing a ring, one he knew he couldn't have been wearing because he'd never seen it before. This wasn't something he'd ever heard of happening before, not in any of his training or readings. He swallowed and managed a smile anyway, the last thing he wanted was for Mr Powell to think he'd fucked something up and decide not to pay. “Oh right. I totally forgot I had it one, thank you.”

“It's really gone?” Jack looked so worried, so hopeful as she stared at is ring that it made Callum's heart hurt. She'd been through so much from this infestation. “Really, really?”

“It's really gone. There's that permanent shadow on the wall now but that can't hurt you. I promise. But you could try and make your dad trade rooms with you, so you're nowhere near it.”

“Okay.” She looked relieved now, relieved and tired. He hoped that she would get to sleep enough to make up for all the missed nights, he'd never managed it. Then again there was a lot more he was up against to haunt his nights. He'd catch up on sleep when he was dead. “Thanks mister.”

“No problem. You know what? To promise you have good dreams next time, take this.” Callum slipped the chain and the charm off, holding it out for her to take. “It's a good luck charm for dreams. It only lets the good ones through.”

“Really? Thanks!” She seemed excited, slipping it onto herself before she wrapped her arms around her dad in a hug. The little family looked like it had been through hell and back but at least it was still intact.

Jack's father invited him to stay for the celebratory pizza party they were going to have but Callum declined, it was getting late and he really needed to sleep. The girl wanted to make it a sleepover, just to make sure the 'shadow ghost' really was gone but thankfully her dad distracted her with deciding what to put on the pizza. Mr Powell was making the pizza himself, which was sorely tempting but the exorcist left to get out of their hair. As much as e hated to pass up a free meal his limbs were begging for sleep and the sudden appearance of the ring had killed his appetite for the night anyway. He'd need to examine it later, where he trusted his senses to know what they were feeling.

The exorcist was so exhausted he just looked for the nearest bus stop and hopped on. The route was more roundabout than the one he probably should of taken but he didn't care, he was just grateful to be sleeping. At least the trip was uneventful, except at one stop when some drunk tried to argue with the driver on the fare and it's cost but Callum barely noticed it. He was too busy watching neighbourhoods pass by, wondering what it was like to be settled down like that. Maybe one day he'd know but not now, not for years yet. He'd have to make it that long.