Possess (11 page)

“Hmmph, everything is fine.”

As if in retort to my words, a sudden crackling noise jarred me. I froze, still cradling the kitten in my arms as he swiped a small white paw at the dangling zipper of my jacket, blissfully unaware of anything else. The crackling started up again as I stood and turned toward the noise. An oval mirror hung a few steps away in a black Victorian-esque frame. I cautiously stepped closer to it but as I neared it, again came the crackling. This time I could see a tiny fissure forming within the reflective surface, joining and splitting off from another small crack. I stood there, completely silent, holding my breath as I watched another fissure spread from the opposite side of the mirror. Then another, and another.

“That’s not possible.” My voice was defiant as I forced myself to look away from it. The crackling grew louder, taunting me as I turned my back to it. My heart thudded faster, betraying the calm exterior I was attempting to hold onto. Before I could take two more steps into the living room, I heard a louder, snapping noise, this time coming from my bedroom. Remy grew restless in my arms and wriggled himself free, leaping onto the couch as I slowly moved toward the large mirror above my dresser. My legs felt heavy and clumsy as I fought back the urge to run screaming from the apartment.

Ghosts are not real. Spirits are not real. This is not real.
I repeated these things staunchly in my head. I was firm in my beliefs, after years of witnessing my mother’s pagan rituals. I’d never seen them conjure up anything. There was nothing special about the way a candle flickered and the shape its flame made when you ask a question before it. It was just a chemical reaction, burning oxygen and melting wax, not some mysterious entity trying to relay a message from another realm.

As I stood in front of the large mirror, however, what I now witnessed didn’t have any explanation. It wasn’t just a chemical reaction. Cracks spreading in the glass on their own, forming like an intricate spider web right before my eyes. A loud crack jarred me and a gash tore through the middle of the glass as if someone had slashed at it with an axe. I covered my mouth, not realizing I had screamed. I could feel goose bumps spreading over my skin as the blood seemed to drain from my face. I found my mind racing back through the many nights I had been forced to keep my mother company in her rituals and the books she made me read on the craft. She had been so hopeful that I would follow in her footsteps. I never had wanted to before, but now I found myself trying to recount things I remembered scanning over in boredom as a kid.

Cleansing. That was it.

Cleansing spells were supposed to get rid of any “energy” left over from someone before. Whatever this might be, maybe doing a cleansing would get it to stop.

I gritted my teeth and turned away from the mirror, ignoring the chill that shivered through me as the mirrors continued to hiss and crack on their own. When I opened my cabinets, my eyes searched for the spices I bought when I first moved in.
Rosemary. That will work. Anything else?
I flung open the refrigerator door carelessly and surveyed its contents before snatching parsley from one of the drawers.

I had at least found my mother’s book of herbs interesting. Some of them had actual medicinal properties. As for the ability to cast out anything lurking in my apartment, I wasn’t so sure. In fact, I wasn’t really certain any of this was actually happening. Just for good measure, I pinched myself hard on one arm.

Well that hurt. Guess I’m really not dreaming this time.

My thoughts knotted together as I stood there crumbling both herbs into a bowl, and a painful tightness spread into my chest. The crackling seemed to snicker at me from all directions as I tossed a match in with the herbs. I was immediately greeted with a puff of black smoke as they caught fire within the small ceramic bowl. Ignoring the slight tremble in my hand, I carried the bowl as I fanned the smoke away from me.

“Leave!” I did my best to hold a commanding tone in my voice, much like my mother did whenever she conducted her own rituals. “Get out of my apartment.” I demanded as I moved slowly through the apartment. The crackling continued as I approached the larger mirror. The surface now resembled a mosaic with its intricate network of cracks and slivers.

“Just get the fuck out of my apartment!” I growled at my own disjointed image. The bedroom light flickered, threatening further chaos, but I only repeated myself.

“Leave!” Green eyes greeted mine with an angry flicker as the lights dimmed then brightened to a blinding white. I lifted a hand to shield my face from the harsh light, but it suddenly dimmed back to a normal level. As I stared back into my own blue eyes, I noticed the crackling had stopped as well.

“Holy crap…It actually worked.”

A Nice Warm Bath

After a few uneventful hours, I finally managed to pull myself off the couch where I was curled up under a blanket, a watchful eye looking around the apartment and ears perked for any more unwelcome noises. Aside from the rhythmic purring coming from the furball laying on my feet, there was silence. Careful not to disturb him, I slid my feet from under his resting form before placing them on the plush carpet. In the bedroom, I grabbed some clean pajamas, avoiding the large mass of cracked glass and the sudden tightness in my chest that seemed to accompany it.

I turned the faucet on in the bathtub and plugged the drain as warm water began to fill the white porcelain. All I could think about for the last hour was taking a warm bath and going to bed. Maybe the cleansing I did actually worked. Try as I might, I had a hard time denying what I had seen. As much as I wanted to convince myself that it had all been in my head, I was questioning it more and more.

Whatever it was, it’s gone now.

My pulse slowed as I attempted to quiet the thoughts that kept creeping into my head. I undressed and dropped my clothes into a pile on the floor, then slowly eased myself down into the water. I let my back relax against the curve of the tub, emitting a soft sigh as I stretched my legs forward and submerged the rest of my body into the water.

Just what I needed
, I thought, my lips curving up into a satisfied smile before the water covered my face and enveloped me in its soothing heat. I stayed underneath for a moment, letting my hair swirl weightlessly around my face, gently turning my head back and forth, enjoying the feeling as it brushed against my cheeks. All the tension from earlier felt released and non-existent as I lay in my warm cocoon. Finally feeling sufficiently relaxed, I reached my hands out of the water and gripped the sides of the tub to pull myself back to a sitting position. Just before my lips could break the surface, two large hands shoved me back down – hard.

My head smacked against the bottom of the tub and my eyes shot open as I stared up at the blurred figure that was holding me down. My hands were much smaller than his, but I grabbed at the large wrists and dug my nails into his skin as he held me under. I screamed, even knowing it was a wasted effort. Nobody would be able to hear me.  I could hear my heartbeat thumping heavily through my head and chest, ready to burst as my body fought for air. My eyes were wide as I kicked and clawed, fighting to free myself as the blurred figure only pressed down harder. I was growing faint, and my vision was becoming dark around the edges. I tried to keep up the fight but my limbs became heavy and weak, my grip loosening as my hands fell away from their wrists.

Oh god, I’m going to die.

As I felt the edges of consciousness slipping away, the weight against my chest suddenly vanished. With the little strength I had left, I pulled myself to the surface, gasping and coughing as I sucked in a breath. Lightheaded and breathless, I held onto the side of the tub, my sight still blurred as silver spots danced in my vision. I frantically searched the room for the intruder and fresh tears stung my eyes as I attempted to pull my body out of the bathtub.

I flopped limply onto the floor. My arms and legs still weak and trembling as I pulled myself to my feet. Holding onto the sink for support, I wrapped a towel around me, squinting, searching for anything I could use to protect myself. A piece of what was left of the bathroom mirror was still wedged in the corner of its frame. I snatched it off, wincing as it left a small slit across the tip of my index finger.

Leaning against the wall to keep myself steady, I stumbled out of the bathroom. Silence blanketed the apartment. Everything was absolutely still. My fingers tightly gripped the glass shard, my mind numbed to the pain as it dug into the fleshy part of my palm. I nearly lost my footing as my wet feet slipped against the parquet. Small silver beams continued to obscure my vision and a wave of nausea hit me, nearly forcing me to double over. I had grabbed a hold of the doorknob, shaky fingers twisting it open just before I heard it. Just before everything went out of focus.

“I’m right here!”

It was just after 3 AM when the squad car pulled into the alleyway behind Finley's. I don't know why I had blurted out the pub's name when they asked me if I had somewhere to go, but I did. Now, here I sat, in the back of a squad car, in the clothes I'd had on the day before. My damp hair clung to my cheeks and my neck as Remy meowed cheerfully in my lap. I wished I was as calm and collected as him. When the engine cut off I slumped back against the worn pleather seat, regretting whatever brain cells had made me say this place.

The windows above were dark. Finley's had closed an hour ago. There was no way Nolan was still awake. He had already played babysitter to me one night, now here I was about to beg to stay over again. I looked down at Remy and he blinked up at me in the dark of the car, his little eyes catching a beam of light from a flickering street lamp. He squeaked out another “mew” as if to check on me before purring and nibbling at the bandage on my hand.

I watched as the older officer climbed out of his seat and hobbled toward my door grumbling to himself. Every single one of the officers I had dealt with after waking up in the hallway of my apartment building had been nothing short of rude. Nobody had believed my claims. Someone must have been in the apartment with me, someone tried to drown me in my own tub. But there were no signs of forced entry and nobody was seen leaving my apartment. According to the neighbors that found me, I was lying on the floor outside of my door barely covered by my towel, face down and mumbling “I’m right here!” over and over.

I’m right here!
 

I could have sworn I'd heard those same words whispered behind me right before everything went black. 
Could I have imagined it? Had it been my attacker taunting me?
At first when I told the cops about the incident in the bathroom a few of them had made an effort. They searched through the apartment, checking all the windows and the fire escape. Another had gone outside, searching around the building. But of course, he too, found nothing.

As I continued to insist that someone had been there, their eyes turned to a narrowed expression of annoyance, save for a couple that were more than willing to entertain the rantings of a deranged, but half-naked young woman. None of them, unsurprisingly, even had the decency to grab my clothes until the paramedics arrived.

The paramedics also blew my story off, quickly coming to the conclusion that I had suffered a seizure-induced hallucination. The cause? The cue ball injury from the other night. As soon as I made the mistake of mentioning the incident, they zeroed in on that being the cause. No attack, no dark figure. I had suffered a seizure related to the head injury and nearly drowned myself. According to the stocky paramedic that was examining me, that was the
only
possible explanation. There were no bruises where the hands had shoved me down, or any other signs of an attack.

I refused to go to the hospital for observation, but the more stubborn cop – the one that had driven me here, was uneasy about leaving me alone. From the way he kept peering back at me in the rear view mirror, I had an inkling that it was more due to my mental health than my physical health. I didn’t fight him on it though, not wanting to set foot back in that apartment at the moment. I didn’t know Aggie’s number or where she lived, and I couldn’t afford another night at the hotel. So here I was, standing outside Finley’s Pub in the middle of the night, teeth chattering from the mixture of cold air and damp hair as the cop banged on the back door. I glanced down at Remy once more. At least one of us looked presentable.

A dim yellow glow lit the alleyway and a minute later another light flickered on over the door. Nolan’s muffled curses followed the heavy thud of tired footsteps down the stairs before the lock jiggled in front of us and the door cracked open enough to see one sleepy blue eye peering out at us.

“Harley?” Nolan’s voice was hoarse with sleep as he pulled the door open wider. “Is everything okay?” He stood up straighter as he eyed the cop suspiciously then returned his gaze to mine.

“I um...had a seizure.” There was no way I could tell Nolan what really happened. I looked at my feet, for a moment, then back up to him. His eyes appraised me with a worried look as his eyebrows pressed together.

“Ms. Martin refused to be taken to the hospital for observation, but we thought it best if someone kept an eye on her.” The old cop explained, glancing at me then Nolan with an equally scrutinizing stare. Nolan muffled a quiet laugh and a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth with the cop’s words.

“Harley? Refuse medical treatment? That’s a shock.” He gave me a teasing look but pulled the door open the rest of the way. “Of course she can stay here.”

“You’ll make sure to keep a close eye on her? She nearly drowned herself, you know.” The cops tone was wary and condescending as he pointed toward me like I was a mischievous five-year-old. I glared at the side of the shiny balding officer’s head before looking back at Nolan. His smile was gone, replaced with a look of alarm.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe.” He told the officer, not looking away from me. The officer didn’t seem very convinced, but shrugged. It was late after all. With a curt nod, he hobbled back to his squad car, leaving Remy and I with Nolan.