The Psychic Legacy

Chapter 15: Presence

A voice that was not my own burst through me. "NO!"

My scarred arm, no longer under my command, wrenched free from the throne's grip, snapping through the wood as easily as if they were made of glass. I watched, dumbfounded, as my arm swept through the air in front of me.

The spirit could control my body now?

Across the circle, the silver crescent in Matilda's hand went flying, torn from her grip by some unseen force.

But it was already too late.

Luc coughed, spitting up red. Blood poured down his front, soaking into his white shirt, splattering across the stones. He slumped forward, going limp against his restraints.

"NO!" I screamed again, in my own voice this time. "NO! LUC!"

Matilda fixed her forceful gaze on me. "Now I see what you've done," she hissed.

"What did I do?" I shouted back. "You're the one who fucking stabbed him!"

Matilda just continued to glare at me. I felt the spirit behind my eyes, glaring back.

The air changed then, crackling with strange electricity. It was frightening, because it was familiar. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time, but I'd recognize it anywhere. It buzzed through me, rumbling in my ears. The static rose, pitching higher and higher until it became...

A scream.

A scream I never thought I'd hear again.

The Beast was back.

It seemed impossible, but I knew it was true. It was like all those times before, when I could feel its presence—a presence that I knew as well as my own. A presence that was burned into my memory.

And I felt it now.

Panic surged through my veins, sending my heart racing. How? Hadn't we sealed it away? I twisted my head back and forth, searching the room for a glimpse of it. Wasn't this supposed to be over?

I expected the familiar monster to appear, with its glowing eyes and flaming mouth. Instead, my gaze fell on a very different creature looming in the corner. It stood on its hands... It's many, many hands. It was like there were only hands, of every shape and size and colour, all jumbled together, seething like tentacles. A few snaked upwards, knotting together to form a long neck, the hands at the end holding up an oval of shattered glass.

Its face was like the broken face of a mirror, jagged edges circling a deep hole in the centre—a mouth. Inside the cavernous maw were layers and layers of other pointed shards, stacked together like rows of teeth.

And in each shard, a single eye stared out at us.

Something triggered in my mind, dragging a memory from my blackout to the surface. The golden mirror with its broken face, several arms emerging through gaps in the glass. Watching in horror as it rushed at me. The ghostly girls dragging me away. The wet arms around my middle—

It all made sense then. This was what they had been trying to warn me about this whole time. They had tried to tell us that the bind on The Beast was going to break. They had been trying to save me—save us!

Only now it was too late. Now the Beast was free.

Only 'Beast' no longer seemed like an appropriate name. It no longer acted like some mindless animal, focussed only on destruction. Now its many eyes surveyed us with cool calculation.

I had no idea what to call it.

Or why it was here.

Did it want me?