CHAPTER 1
The toddler's
wicked laugh echoed throughout the basement, bounced off the walls, and
traumatized my ear drums. I cringed and strengthened my grip on the dagger
until my knuckles turned white.
Despite the
danger I was in, I had trouble staying focused. Today had been a long day.
After spending six hours cooped up in class trying to wrap my mind around
criminal psychology, I had spent another two hours in the library crouched over
dusty newspapers with pages yellowed from age, trying to find out as much as I
could about the specter I'd dubbed the Main Street Basement Ghost. Then I
headed to Main Street, to an apartment building straight out of a
post-apocalyptic movie, and here I was, face to face with the ghost.
Well, maybe not
face to face, since the toddler-ghost was playing a game of hide and seek.
The toddler
laughed, and I followed the noise, farther into the darkness. I'd brought a
flashlight, but the batteries had died about five minutes into the
investigation. Usually, I had moonlight to guide me, but in this windowless
basement, stark darkness was the only thing greeting me as I groped my way
through stacks of boxes, mannequins, and things better left forgotten.
I caught a
glimpse of a white, glowing figure moving in the back of the room. Knocking
over several boxes, I rushed to the spot as fast I could.
The darkness
worked as a disadvantage for the ghost. He was crouched behind a tower of books
— nevertheless, the eerie glow surrounding him gave him away. In the daytime,
he would've been much harder to spot, but in the darkness, he was a glowing
beacon.
I stopped in
front of the pile of hard covers and glanced at the glow resonating from behind
it. The eerie light barely reached my torso. Getting rid of adolescent ghosts
was never easy and a pang of guilt tugged at my heart. But this kid had killed
three people already, I reminded myself.
At that moment,
the kid launched himself at the books, toppling them over, crushing me. I
raised my hands to my head for protection while I was continuously bombarded,
trying to keep my balance at the same time.
He towered over
me. His dark hair was disheveled, and he wore nineteenth- century clothes
stained with blood. His head tilted slightly to the right. Half of it had been
cut off, as if whoever had decided to rid the kid of his head, didn't have the
stomach to complete the job. His eyes were dark and hollow, and they stared at
me with unmatched venom.
Leave me alone.
His lips didn't
move, but his voice was clear as day. Hatred glistened in his eyes. He snarled
and launched himself at me with his fingers clawed, growling like an animal.
I took a step
back and braced myself for the collision. His full weight hit me right in the
chest, and I fell backward. I grabbed the ghost and held him away from me,
while he gnarled, bit, spat, and clawed at me.
Go away!
Drops of sweat
dripped down my forehead, and blood oozed where he scratched me. I grimaced and
pushed the ghost away with all my strength. It flew several meters backward,
but instead of dropping to the floor, it hovered mid-air. Its eyes sparked with
black flames, and it hissed at me.
Guess I pissed
it off for real this time.
I scrambled
around on my knees in search of the dagger I dropped to the floor when the
ghost knocked me over. The search was proving useless as I couldn't spot it
anywhere.
The ghost's
mouth grew large enough to swallow a small person, forming a black, gaping
hole. Its eyes became small slits, like a snake's. It launched at me again, as
fast as a leopard.
Running was out
of the question. This thing, zigzagging toward me, its face the material of
nightmares, was a lot faster than I was.
My gaze darted
left and right, still in search of the dagger when I caught the silver
sparkling in the ghost's glow. It was behind him. Just my luck.
Lunging up, I
ran forward toward the ghost, dropped to the floor, and dove below the phantom,
straight at the dagger. My sleeve ripped and I bumped my elbow into the wall,
but at least I had my dagger back.
The ghost howled
like a wounded animal. Turning around, it pulled back its arm and swung at me.
I grabbed it mid-swing with my left hand, clenching my teeth as I used all my
strength to stop the attack, and with my right hand, I plunged the dagger
straight into its belly.
The spirit and I
stared at each other for a beat. He screamed, a sound that went through marrow
and bone. Then he vanished.
Relieved, I
stumbled backward. My knees were wobbly, and I had to hold on to the wall for
support. Taking deep breaths, I tried to steady my heartbeat. With the ghost
gone, the basement had gone from illuminated-by-eerie-ghost-glow to pitch black
darkness.
When I'd
recovered a little, I fumbled through the pockets of my jacket until I found my
cell phone. The battery was almost dead, but I was hoping it would hold out
until I got out of here.
Groping my way
through the darkness, I bumped into a million different things, and almost suffered
a heart attack when I ran into a life-sized mannequin. It seemed to take
forever before I managed to make it out of the basement. I slipped twice on the
stairs going up, and by the time I reached the hallway, I felt as if I'd just
survived a year in Alcatraz. There were lights in the hallway, although they
were on emergency setting; they went on and off every few seconds.
My backpack
still lay where I'd left it, right outside the entrance to the basement. I
slumped down against the wall, opened up my backpack and grabbed a bottle of
water. I drank half of it, and poured the other half over my head in an attempt
to cool off. Next, I pulled out my pocket mirror and inspected the damage to my
face. Green eyes, thin, black eyebrows, a straight nose, high cheekbones, a
small bruise under my left eye, and a cracked lip stared back at me. But at
least my teeth seemed fine, and the bruise was small enough to cover up with
concealer. My hair was a mess, though.
I loosened my
ponytail and ruffled through my long, black hair. With caution, I searched my
scalp inch by inch, looking for wounds. I had hit my head pretty hard the first
time the ghost launched at me. But apart from a growing bump at the back of my
head, the rest seemed fine.
My arms hadn't
been so lucky. They were covered in scratch marks where my sleeve had ripped.
Another jacket ruined. My ankle throbbed and my head hurt, but all in all, the
damage was minimal. Which was to be expected, considering that the Main Street
Basement Ghost was a piece of cake compared to some of the other specters I'd
fought.
I stumbled a
little when I got back up. After hoisting my backpack over my shoulder, I
walked through the hallway and out of the abandoned apartment building.
Another ghost
had been sent straight back to the afterlife, and another paycheck awaited my
collection tomorrow. My employer would be glad his building was ghost free, and
that he could now safely find new tenants for the fourteen apartments above the
haunted basement. As for me, I was glad I'd be able to pay the rent for another
month, and buy some food for the table. A girl had to eat.
