“You can do that?” Principal Dexter asked, his eyes somehow becoming wider.
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
“I’m sorry, but you have to realize how farfetched this all sounds,” Dexter said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. “A river spirit who looks like a horse? And eats children?”
Abigail rounded to face him and crossed her arms. His reaction was what she was afraid would happen. She didn’t appreciate his tone and found it frustrating that he was scared and worried one minute, but so quick to laugh her off the next.
“Look, you called me. Not the other way around. You’ve seen it with your own eyes. Regardless of how farfetched it sounds, it’s the truth, which is what you hired me for. Now, I can take care of the problem and you can pay me for my services, or I can get back in my car and leave. But don’t come crying to me when an angry river spirit devours a student because you laughed me off.” She barely took a step towards the door before he hurried to stop her.
“Wait, wait! No! Please, don’t go. I’m sorry. You’re right, I was the one to call you.” When she looked back at him, he wrung his hands, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I just…when becoming principal this isn’t exactly what I thought my job would entail.”
“Always prepare for the unexpected. Now, what do you want me to do? Trap it or bribe it?”
“Well, I mean, I suppose if it can be convinced to help protect the school that doesn’t sound so bad. I wouldn’t feel right trapping it.”
His answer surprised her, considering most people wanted spirits gone so they could go back to their regular lives and pretend they didn’t see beyond the veil.
Abigail nodded, letting her backpack slip from her shoulders and onto the floor. “Fine. But I’m going to need privacy and you’re going to have to lock the door.”
“You want to lock us in here with that thing?”
“Spirit. Call it a spirit. If it’s going to be living here, you need to address it properly,” Abigail corrected. “And no. I want you to lock me in here with it.” At his concerned look, she added, “Don’t worry. I’ve done this many times before. I know what I’m doing. Which is the main reason I need to be alone. These types of situations need to be handled delicately. You’re going to leave here, you’re going to lock the doors behind you, and you’re going to go wait in your office.”
“What if you need help?”
“I won’t. I’ll call you when it’s safe.”
Dexter nodded and reached into his pocket to withdraw a ring of keys. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”
“You can thank me by writing out that check while you wait.”
Dexter made himself scarce, locking the cafeteria doors behind him. Abigail studied the TV, staring at the blurry image of the spirit. It had been a few months since she had dealt with an elemental and it had been a harrowing experience. Spirits tied to the land can be finicky.
They are the rightful protectors of their domain and don’t take too kindly to humans encroaching on their territory, which seemed to be happening more and more each year. The unwavering need for human expansion wreaked havoc on the spiritual ecosystem that had existed since the dawn of time.
If humans only knew how much their actions truly disturbed the world around them.
Abigail tore her eyes away from the screen and scanned the room. When she was confident she was absolutely alone, she closed her eyes and took a moment to center herself. As much as she wanted to get things done and get out of there, she had to tread carefully.
Nothing good ever came from rushing a ritual, a lesson she and her family had learned the hard way.
A lesson her father had learned the hard way.
Once her thoughts were clear and her mind focused, Abigail knelt to open her bag. She glanced around and muttered a few choice words under her breath. All at once, the cameras, TV, and lights shut off. Even the AC cut out as her charm temporarily disabled the electronics in the room. Which meant there would not be any recordings of what she was about to do. Dexter had enough footage of the paranormal, he didn’t need any more.
Reaching into her bag, Abigail felt around for a bit, swearing to herself when she couldn’t find what she was looking for. Digging deeper, she practically had to climb in. Damn interdimensional spaces. Handy for keeping lots of things in a small bag, not helpful for staying organized.
Eventually, her hand found the cool metal handle she’d been searching for and she withdrew a thick, wooden briefcase. Burned into the polished exterior was her family crest, along with various sigils and runes designed to protect the contents within. She carried it and her bag with her to the center of the room, shoving a table out of the way to make space.
Abigail opened the case, letting her altar rise from its black void.
The short wooden table was already set with what she would need. Candles, incense, salt, herbs. The whole nine yards. She’d done her affirmations and offerings just that morning and the cup of coffee next to her father’s picture was still warm.
Abigail poured a thick circle of salt around the space, trapping herself safely within its circumference. After settling in front of the altar, she took several deep, purposeful breaths, and reached beneath the neckline of her shirt to withdraw an amulet.
It was a family heirloom, the family crest woven from the same wood as the altar. The wood from their homeland. The necklace had been passed down from one generation elder to the next. The fact that she had it but wouldn’t even be considered close to being an elder always stung. Because it reminded her that she shouldn’t have it. It shouldn’t be there. It should be around her father’s neck.
No, don’t think about that right now, Abigail scolded herself. Remain focused.
Clearing her throat, she closed her eyes and spoke aloud. “I cast a circle of protection. Ancestors and guiding spirits please watch over me during my ritual.”
Heat bloomed in her chest to let her know the message had been received and when she opened her eyes, the candles flickered to life. They had heard her and were listening.
And they weren’t the only ones.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up that uncomfortable feeling when she first stepped into the cafeteria came rushing back. Now that she focused, she realized what it was.
She was being watched.
“I speak now to the river spirit who resides on this land, the one whose home was destroyed,” she said in a clear, strong voice. “I ask that you show yourself to me. Please, speak. I mean you no harm.”
There was a beat of silence but not the normal silence. Abigail would describe it as an absence of sound. No hum from electronics, no passing cars outside, or birds singing. Nothing. Then, all at once the temperature in the room dropped and Abigail felt her arms rise with goosebumps. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and when she turned to look, the same ghostly shadow from the tape materialized from nowhere.
She tracked its movements and watched it carefully as the shape became solid. Then, it started to change. With a snap and a crack of bones, the horse buckled and contorted, its body morphing and twisting until it was no longer a horse, but a slender woman with long black hair, blue-tinted skin, and black fingernail-like talons.
She was draped in moss with a crown made of bones protruding from her forehead. As she walked, she left wet footprints in her wake.
“To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” she asked, her voice washing over Abigail like a babbling brook as she regarded her with jet-black, pupilless eyes.
“I am Abigail, and I have come to parley.”
The river spirit lifted a slender eyebrow. “Parley? How formal. What have I done to warrant such honor?”
“Flinging chairs around, for one. It seems your presence is frightening the students and staff.”
“Good. They should be frightened.”
“And should I?”
The spirit grinned, showing a row of sharp teeth. “That entirely depends on what you have to say next.” She stepped closer until she was just beyond the circle of salt. “If you truly wish to parley, I will need some reassurance. Trust is given if trust is shown.”
“And how should I show you my trust?”
The spirit beckoned Abigail with her long finger. “Step out of the circle.”
👍 LIKE THIS POST for Abigail to stay in the circle and talk her way out of this.
❤️ LOVE THIS POST for Abigail to step out of the circle to show the spirit she trusts her.
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