Page 17 of The Devil and His Ghost

“Really? I’m surprised there weren’t any floating around Mountview.”

“There were some spirits at Mountview, but they always ran away and stayed hidden for some reason. None of them ever approached me, and I didn’t try to make them since that would only make me look crazier to the staff.”

“I see.” I straightened and gestured to where the ghost had been. “I’ll educate you then. I told you to ignore her, because that is what happens when you try to convince a ghost who doesn’t know they’re dead that they are. Their soul isn’t ready to accept that information, which is why they’re still interacting with the world in a way that makes sense to them.

“For example, the park most likely looked to her the way it did when she fell asleep and died here. When she looked at us, her soul probably put us in the same kind of clothes that were standard to her time. Her soul, unable to piece together and accept her new reality, molds everything around her into a world that still fits what she believes to be true. That she’s alive. That she just fell asleep. That she is looking for her missing baby.

“Pointing out that they’re dead triggers that kind of ghost into a state of confusion and anger and refusal to accept what they are. In those instances, they morph into a malicious spirit, which is a much more dangerous and powerful kind of spirit than your run-of-the-mill ghost. They can inflict actual physical damage on people, and they cause huge problems that Hell has to cover up and deal with. The only thing you can do in these cases is dissipate their soul from existence. They can’t change back into a normal ghost once they reach that point, and only problems await anyone who gets involved.”

Kendyll’s frown returned, but the mere troubled expression from before was one of devastation now. “I didn’t know that would happen.”

“I don’t suppose you would, given that you’re practically a baby Ghost Speaker. Well, now you know. If a ghost doesn’t realize they’re dead, ignore them. If you’re determined to interact, treat them as if they aren’t a ghost. They have to figure out the truth on their own.”

She stared at the puddle of my taro boba drink. Swallowing hard, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for—my drink, not listening to me, turning a confused spirit into a malicious one that I had to destroy, or all of the above. Regardless, the sudden somber and serious mood made me itch with the need to relieve it.

Pursing my lips, I flicked her forehead. She yelped and placed a hand over the red mark and looked up at me.

“You’ll learn how to be a good Ghost Speaker one day. It just takes time and experience, dealing with the different types of spirits out there. We all make mistakes.” I pointed at the sad purple puddle on the ground. “Yours cost $5.49. Cash or card?”

Chapter 9

Kendyll

(7 Years Ago)

I SWEPT THE NONEXISTENT DIRT from the dark marble floors. Xander gave me the task of taking care of the penthouse in exchange for being here, but there honestly wasn’t much to do as far as that went. His place stayed spotless, but I’d rather pretend I was washing away grime than fight with his stupid laptop again.

I glanced at the coffee table where the device sat. Not only was it a pain trying to use the stupid thing, given my lack of experience with technology, but it wasn’t helping me find what I was good at. I’d searched countless pages and forums for ideas of things I could try that relied on my individual skills and not ones gained from school or real world experience.

I didn’t think people would enjoy the sound of a screeching hawk, so singing was out.

Dancing was also out since, according to Xander, I had two left feet.

Music and art therapy was something I’d received during my time at Mountview, but considering I’d been delegated to the triangle or told I had a very “abstract” talent for painting, I didn’t anticipate either of those working.

My latest effort in finding what I was good at was writing. The notebook paper with the start of a ghost story sat by the laptop where it waited for Xander to get home. He’d verify if I had any potential in the story-telling department.

The thought of my demon roommate had my cheeks warming. I quickly released the broom to smack my cheeks and grumbled, “Be gone, impure thoughts.”

True to his word, he wasn’t here often. I’d already been here three weeks, and in that time, I’d seen him a handful of times, typically when he popped in to change clothes, shower, or to make sure I was still breathing. While it could be lonely in this big apartment without him, I didn’t mind the fact that he was gone at night. He’d already seen me in some pretty embarrassing predicaments—hiding in my closet as a child, being held as a mental patient in a psychiatric hospital, causing a ghost to turn crazy. I didn’t want him to see me in yet another embarrassing state while I slept.

Guilt carved up my chest at the thought of that dead woman from the park. Her soul was forever gone, torn apart, because of my ignorance. My ability to see, touch, and hear entities from beyond this realm was something I’d tried to fight and ignore. Embracing it caused trouble for me and those around me, but not learning about ghosts and my ability to interact with them only served to hurt the spirits. I couldn’t let something like what happened with that woman happen again. I had to be more careful going forward.

Shaking the troubling thought away, I focused on what Xander and I could get up to later. The times he was here for an evening, he—albeit reluctantly—hung out with me. He taught me how to play video games, though I still sucked at all of them. He showed me countless movies that he insisted anyone with a pulse needed to watch, and he ate dinner with me.

“I wonder when he’ll be back,” I murmured as I put the broom away.

I poured myself a cup of jasmine tea, which he’d gotten me hooked on. I’d just returned the pot to its place when he appeared in a burst of shadow in the living room.

His human-looking dark eyes met mine briefly before he darted into his room. “Sup, Ghost.”

Grinning, I abandoned my tea to follow after him. “Welcome back.”

“I’m not staying,” he announced, popping his head around the open doorway of his bedroom. His corded shoulders were bare as he chucked a shirt at me where I stood in the living room. “Here. Wash that for me.” He ducked back into the room where I heard him rummaging through his closet.

“Where are you going?” I asked, unable to hide the disappointment from my voice. “I thought we could watch a movie whenever you were here next. I searched some lists online and picked out a classic horror film for us.”