Best Served Cold

Inhabitation

             “Lewis!”

             Immediately the flames stopped, and he felt his soul being wrapped in something strong and warm. For a moment he clung to that, hardly caring what it was so long as it stayed.

             “Do you really think that even scratched me?” They looked up to see the Spirit standing again, blocking the exit. It hunched over, supporting itself on dragon-like appendages; long-clawed hands that supported a wing-structure running up the arms and onto its bowed back. Its face remained little more than a shadowy maw of ravenous-looking teeth, but its eyes were fixed on them. “You are a newborn ghost compared to me. I have been in this cave for hundreds of years, and before that I was a god among mortals, feared by all! They curried my favors, they dreaded my wrath, they threw their young down to die that I would be placated!” The Spirit slammed claws down onto the ledge, a crack running along it. “And you would ruin all that I have set in place to be free. Worms!” Its jaws opened wide as it crouched. “I will consume you!”

             Arthur’s body turned to the edge of the ledge. His soul recoiled, screaming in mortal terror.

             “Don’t.” Lewis’ voice was quiet. “Just hold tight.” With that, they leaped off the ledge. Their body plummeted toward the foggy cave floor, but as they drew close, a strange purple shape rose out of the mist and deflected them from hitting a spike. They landed—not on hard rock—but a soft mound of purple.

             Arthur’s soul reeled from the fall. It felt like pieces of his mind were peeling off and flying away and he couldn’t stop it. He barely recognized the little purple ghosts as they helped his body to its feet and vanished.

             “Stay with me,” Lewis ordered, taking off into the fog. “Have to hide.” They fled deeper into the cavern, past labyrinthine contortions of rocks and spires, but both could feel the Spirit’s eyes on them.

             “Maggots. This is my domain.”

             A stalactite broke free from the ceiling, shattering inches from Arthur’s body. Then another fell, and another and another. The Spirit wrenched them free, hurling them across the cavern like a game of darts. It laughed coldly. “Continue running. It is good sport.”

            Lewis hurled their body to the side, barely avoiding a double set of spikes. Arthur could feel his heart pounding, but in a steady, measured rhythm that belied their frantic flight. They lay there a moment, gasping for breath.

            “Forgot… needing to breathe…” Lewis panted, and Arthur giggled manically at the ridiculousness of the statement.

            A massive claw pinned their body down, turning them over to stare up at the glowing green eyes.

             “Finished already? My turn again.” It opened its jaws, inhaling deeply.

             Arthur felt the warmth being torn from him. Lewis, he could feel Lewis slipping away. He was trying to hang on to something, anything, but the Spirit was powerful.

             “Lewis!” He shouted, flailing out. How could he hold a ghost? “Don’t go!”

             And like that, Lewis came flooding back, winding himself tightly in place.

             The Spirit’s eyes narrowed as its mouth closed. “Clever. Acceptance of a possession is rare, but I suppose I’ve created extraordinary circumstances. Very well then. Die together.” It lifted them up, beating its wings as it rose into the air, higher and higher. Thin trails of green fog dripped from its mouth, winding around their body and binding them tightly. “No more dispersing yourself for cushioning,” it chuckled.

             It reached the top of the cavern, higher than the ledge had ever been. Arthur turned inward, away from the sight, moaning.

             Once again, the warmth touched his soul gently. And he could almost swear he saw Lewis with a grieved expression in his mind’s eye.

             “I’m sorry.” Whispered through his mind.

             With no words left, Arthur again embraced the warmth.

             And then they were falling. The wind whistled past their ears, tearing at their clothes and raking across their skin.

             And then it stopped. They were thrown roughly sideways, something sharp digging into their skin but not quite breaking it. They opened their eyes, staring dumbfounded at the last sight they expected to see.

             A giant beast in the shape of a fox had them secure between its teeth, its eyes smoldering with rage, its six tails spread wide like a fan. And on its back, a small blue form, clinging for dear life, and staring at them with a wide-open mouth.