The night was cold. He preferred it that way, hunting in the heat was neither fun nor effective. As the wheels of the Vauxhall Wyvern rubbed against the curb and came to an abrupt stop, the young-looking man inside peered out of the driver's side window. His long black hair was shoulder-length, tied back loosely behind his head with a few elastic bands. A short beard framed his rugged yet youthful mahogany face. He whistled through his teeth as his hand reached for the glove compartment, pulling a Colt Python pistol from it and placing it inside of his belt after checking it had sufficient ammunition. He reached into the backseat to grab a long leather jacket and exited the car. It slammed behind him with a metal thud as he moved his way towards the rear of the vehicle. He placed the key inside of the lock and pulled open the boot of the car. Inside were a vast assortment of weapons. Pistols, shotguns, swords, daggers anything anyone would need to cause damage to another. He pulled a small sword out of the pile and flung it over his back, he did the same with an old shotgun and closed the boot behind him. He took three or four steps towards the house before stopping. He placed his hand on an empty pocket and grumbled. He turned and went back to the car and clutched a small decorated wooden box from the boot and slammed it again with even more vigor. He unlatched the box revealing 3 small vials of a thick red liquid. He sneered at the vials before closing the box and placing it inside his breast pocket.
He looked up at the large gate that was the grand entrance to a very old and very well to do home, though it no longer looked like anyone lived there, no one this side of the vale anyway. All the foliage that once adorned the garden had long since died and the area was as grey and melancholy as a graveyard in winter. He placed his hand on the gates lock and pulled it open, the brittle mechanism crumbled as he did so. He stepped into the sizeable courtyard and walked cautiously towards the abode. The hefty decorated wooden door sat between two gigantic stone pillars that supported a grand balcony above. Vines and spiderwebs were the only things clinging to the walls other than misery.
He pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and placed it upon the web covered iron door knocker and knocked it three times.
"Anybody home?" His deep voice rang around the emptiness of the property.
He didn't expect an answer but it was always nice to make sure he had the right place. He moved the hand from the door knocker to the handle and pulled down. The mechanism made a loud click and the door opened with a long deafeningly loud squeal. He cautiously placed one foot inside of the doorway and waited a moment. As if answering a question he asked himself, he nodded and stepped fully into the dark home. Even though the home was almost pitch black, he did not seem to struggle to see. There was a grand wooden staircase leading to the next level right in the centre of dust riddled main foyer. To the right and left were doors leading to other sections of the home. He looked around and noticed that the bodies of small birds, squirrels, and various critters were littered around the room, considerably more of with were around the staircase. As if against his better judgement he moved towards the staircase and began to climb, each footstep causing the brittle wooden floorboards beneath to bend and creak.
Upon reaching the second level the rancid stench of dead flesh was rampant, he knew now he was right where he needed to be. He stepped slowly down the corridor, the remains of animals crunched underneath his black booted feet as he did so. He reached a door on his left side, He placed his hand on the door and moved his head closer to the wooden surface. He could hear laughter. He pulled his Colt from his belt and cocked it back. He placed his left hand on the door and pushed the door open, aiming the pistol into the room, it was empty. He walked in and placed his pistol back into his belt and had a look around. A dusty old bed was in the corner, it was small no more than 4 feet long. There were rotting wooden toys on the ground. One was a train and the other was what was left of a male figurine. This room clearly was inhabited once by a child but it wasn't the epicentre that he was looking for, he turned to leave.
"Jesus fuck!" He yelled.
"Who are you?" A small transparent girl, stood in the doorway said, hollow black eyes looking up at him
"Uh well..." He said, shifting his eyes left and right "My name's August, what is yours, kid?"
"Penny, and i'm not a kid! I am 9!" Grunted the girl, arms folded in a huff
"Wow, nearly fully grown then..." August smiled "...When were you born, Penny?"
"October..." She replied
"What year?" August raised an eyebrow
"Well, 9 years ago silly, 1913!" She said, poking her tongue out at August
"Ah well, hate to break it to you kid but..." August was cut off by a large bang above his head "What was that?"
"Oh, that's my mother..." Penny said, looking down and away in sadness.
"What is your mother like?" August asked.
"She's... she's mean! She used to not let me have any dinner. One year she didn't let me eat for what felt like a month, but then I fell asleep and when I woke up I didn't need to eat any more... never found out why" She said, very quickly.
"Aw, kid..." August said with pity in his voice
"She's always bringing friends up there from outside but they don't ever seem to come down, it must be really crowded up there, don't you think mister?"
"Uh, yeah. Must be a really fun party..." He said, looking up towards the ceiling, clearly moldy from damp.
August pulled his shotgun from his back and checked that it was loaded, it was. He strolled towards the girl and the door, she didn't move.
"Where are you going?" She asked
"I'm going to say hello..." August replied "I don't want to walk through you though"
"Walk through me?" She questioned, tilting her little head
"Don't worry, just step aside please, kid"
She did as he asked and he shut the door behind him. He let out a sigh, August had seen a fair amount of ghost children in his time and it was always a tragedy when they had no idea why or even that they were dead. He also knew he would have to find her body so he could remove her spirit from this godforsaken place, but that would have to be after he dealt with mummy. He walked further down the corridor until he got to the attic door, it was open and a rickety ancient ladder was placed leading up into its opening. August sniffed the air, the fleshy odor was strong and was most certainly coming from above. He kept his shotgun in his right hand and climbed the ladder slowly. One of the rungs snapped under his boot making him struggle for grip momentarily. As his head passed into the attic, cold dead eyes looked back at him. It was the remains of a man, eyes, and mouth gaping as small yellow maggots ate what was left of the poor gentlemen's tongue and gums.
"Lovely..." Whispered August as he pulled himself fully into the gigantic attic.
The attic was enormous, you could fit four or five reasonably sized bedrooms into its floor space. There was a pillar every two or three meters, holding the roof of the building up. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't for all the dead people tied to pillars and decorating the floor. Some had clearly been here for awhile, nearly bone. Others looked fresh. August noticed that all of the dead were male, not a single woman among them, he wondered why.
"Hmmm..... Very old... Very old indeed...." A spectral voice whistled around the room, almost as if a high pitched female voice was struggling its way through a half phlegm filled throat "But young still, Old and young all in one fleshy package"
"I'm guessing your Penny's mother? Show yourself, Witch" August said, speaking too thin air.
"Witch!?..." The spectral voice cackled "You think you know me, Old one?"
"I know all I need to know..." He said, questioning his own statement "Actually, what's with all the men?"
"Worthless, filthy, weak!..." The voice spat "Everyone of them couldn't do it, wouldn't do it!"
"Wouldn't or couldn't do what?"
"Love me!"
"Love you?" He said, looking at the horrified dead faces looking back at him "I wonder why?"
"Keep your sarcastic undead tongue quiet before I cut it from your head, night wanderer!"
August walked to the centre of the room, there was a small area amongst the bodies that was relatively untouched. There was a large chest, covered in wax, and surrounded by unlit candles. He placed his hand on top of it.
"Get away from that!" The voice screamed as a wooden plank flew towards August, he ducked it "That is not for you!"
"Ah, I see..." August said with a smirk "I know what's here"
"Noooo!!" The spectral voice shouted
August turned his head to the far side right wall, A ghostly hand started to manifest out of it as if crawling its way out of a grave. Its spectral skin was frayed and hanging off its bones, showing it thin and deathly muscle beneath. The head began to appear, wispy white and grey hair moved in the air as if underwater, glowing blue eyes fixated on August. A mouth full of dirty green teeth opened to speak.
"Get away!!" It said as it plunged toward August.
August whipped around and loosed a slug from his Shotgun directly at the ghost's upper torso. As he shot, a large cloud of shining sparks burst from the end of the gun. It ripped through the ghost's upper body and right shoulder leaving a cloud of blueish green ectoplasm in the air.
"Arrrgh..." The ghost gargled 'Silver!?"
"And salt, Dipped in the holy water of St. Johns Baptist Church. Tasty right?" August said, smiling
August blasted another round into the left side of the ghost, it was now freely dripping ectoplasm onto the floor. He moved swiftly towards the incapacitated ghost and placed his right-hand fingers into the ectoplasm on the floor. He drew various symbols on the ground before moving back and placing his shotgun back onto his back strap. He relaxed and pulled a small cotton pouch from his pocket and began to unravel the ties.
"Filthy nightwalker!..." The ghost violently throwing from side to side "What have you done!"
"I have entrapped you, with your own essence." August replied calmly
"Necromancy!?"
"Sort of..."
"Dirty, filthy, miserable..." She said, as August cut her off by flicking open the chest
Inside of the chest laid the remains of a middle-aged woman, alongside some old potions vials and sketches of various men. It was clear the body was the life vessel of this horrific specter. That was not enough for August.
"I have two questions before I rid you of this existence" August explained.
"Go to hell!" The ghost raged
August pulled a small pinch of dust from the pouch and blew it in her direction, the specter squealed, almost deafening August but he did not let her know it.
"That's right, more of that beautiful silver, it won't destroy you but I can cover your remains in it for the rest of time so you feel this holy burn for all eternity, would you like that?" August asked
"What are your questions, Old one?" She said reluctantly, slouching in defeat.
"What is with all of the pictures? Who are these men?"
"They are empty wishes! No one ever loved me, no one ever cared for me! These were the machinations of a lonely woman, a woman who had not yet found her calling" The witch rattled, still dripping ectoplasm
"You mean Witchcraft?"
"Yes Old One, Wikka was my answer, I could make them love me. I could make them!"
"You made them love you... to death."
"Pah!.." She spat "They were not worthy of me! Even in death!"
"I've heard enough."
"Then put me out of my misery, Ancient one!"
"Not quite yet, Witch" He said as he took a step closer "I have one more question"
"What!?"
"Where's the kid's body?"
It was now nearly dawn, August could smell the sun about to rise over the stench of burning bones. He had performed the required rituals to put all of the souls to rest, even the witch's. She had suffered enough he thought, even if he didn't fully believe it himself. He covered the ashes in soil and began to take his things back to his car. As he approached, he could see a man sat on his bonnet, legs crossed with a cigarette hanging from his stubbled mouth. August cocked his head to the side and let out a sigh.
"How come you always show up when the jobs are done?" August asked from the inside of the garden gate.
"Oh, Augz..." The man said, turning to look at August "You know I don't get my hands dirty! I find the jobs, you do the jobs, and we split the cash. The way God intended!"
"I doubt God has anything to do with this shit and for the last time, I don't take payment"
"Well have no fear, I take it for the both of us!" The man chuckled "I took the Wyvern whilst you were in there to get some fuel. Well c'mon chap, let's go!"
"Where are we going, Jacob?"
"Another job, where else?" Jacob replied whilst sliding off the bonnet and over to the passenger side door.
"No rest for the wicked aye" August replied, now next to the car, piling his things into the boot.
They both got into the car and Jacob handed August the keys. He started the vehicle and placed his hand on the gear stick before turning to Jacob.
"So, where this time?" August asked.
"Manchester..." Jacob said, expelling a car full of smoke '...We have Dybbuk issue to fix"
"Aww fuck me..." August replied
"Yep..."
August put the car into first gear and pulled away from the curb.
"So, did you use a vial?" Jacob asked.
August pulled the wooden box from his pocket and unclasped the box with one hand to reveal three small vials filled with as much red liquid as each vial could take.
"Nope, not this time"
"Good..." Jacob said, looking at the box of vials "Because I hate having to fill them fuckers up."