Page 2

E van’s left eye twitched as he stared out the car window at the bustling streets of Emberlyn. Colorful shops, crumbling vintage buildings, loud pedestrians, speeding bikes—whatever amusements you could imagine, it was all there.

But alas, a town cursed with an eternal sunless sky.

That’s an exaggeration, actually .

It rained year-round in Emberlyn, and gloomy clouds were more prone to hover in the sky than birds. Sunlight was scarce and pitter-patters more than necessary. But that had less to do with any curse from the gods and more with the dense rainforests enclosing the town on all sides.

However, stating scientific facts out loud was the quickest way to be outcast in a superstitious town.

Emberlyn took great pride in its folklores and legends unique to it. Anyone new to town could recite the old tales like a nursery rhyme within a year. They were the go-to conversation starters because in Emberlyn, “fairy tale” and “hello” were synonymous.

And among them all, there was always that one story that stuck with you.

For Evan, it was a tale both bizarre and strangely entertaining.

Once upon a time, hundreds of years ago, a bird the size of a tree fell from the sky, its massive, burning wings raining Hellfire over the land. A Hail from Hell , they called it.

Some believed it was based on a real, horrific event. Others just thought it made for a good bedtime story.

Another folklore told often—one that Evan personally believed—was about the Deity of Del.

The Del was a sacred river winding through the dense forests that surrounded Emberlyn and served as the main source of clear water in town. According to legend, the Deity of Del was believed to protect the town from plagues, floods, forest fires, and any natural disaster that dared approach. Her water was even used in exorcism rituals by some oddball exorcists.

None more odd than Evan Blackwood.

The old women gathered in front of the town library to read such stories to kids every evening.

Once upon a time, Evan used to be one of those kids.

Sometimes he wished to go back in time, turn into a little boy again, and wander the town carefree without worrying about frightening people away by his mere presence.

Instead, here he was, slumped in Aaron’s car with his twitching eye.

“Try not to scare these people away,” Aaron’s fingers anxiously drummed against the steering wheel, eyes switching between Evan and the road. “We both know you lack some basic filters between your brain and mouth.”

Evan scratched his ears like his words were making them itch. Already his twitching eye was making him irritable. “I speak facts. If they can’t handle facts, it’s not my problem.”

Aaron’s shoulders drooped in resignation.

When Evan’s left eye twitched again, he slapped a frustrated hand against it, almost sending his eyeball flying out of his ear. “Fuck!”

Aaron jumped in his seat. “ What ? What—What is it?”

“My left eye is twitching.”

The car jerked as Aaron’s control faltered. “Isn’t that…bad luck?”

Oh yeah, I never run out of those .

In fact, Evan had been bestowed with abundant misfortune since birth.

Evan leaned his head back against the headrest, pressing his fingers against the twitching eye with a sigh. “I’ll probably lose money.”

Aaron whimpered like a kicked puppy. “Oh, you’re so gonna blow up this deal.”

When they stopped at the bakery to get breakfast, Aaron jumped out of the car, more agitated than usual under his grey suit. Maybe he was wondering about the suspicious bruises on Evan’s face from yesterday that he’d been too reluctant to talk about. Or perhaps his restlessness had something to do with the fact that Evan had told him about his lack of a proper meal.

No. It probably had to do with the Greene’s case.

It'd been years, yet the reason behind Aaron's eagerness in playing manager was still a mystery to Evan.

According to his limited knowledge, Aaron Brooke already had everything a man in his prime would want out of life. A wealthy family, decent looks—well, maybe better than just decent —a city apartment, and multiple businesses to his name. Even if he decided he didn’t want to work another day in his life, he had enough to spare for his next three generations.

There wasn’t a sensible reason why someone like him would want to go around ghost-hunting with Evan.

Evan would have questioned his friend’s intentions if he weren’t the most resourceful and helpful friend in his life.

Actually, he was the only friend in Evan’s life. Then there was Rhea, who was more like a fairy godmother with a broom instead of a wand.

Blinking at Aaron’s figure as it disappeared into the bakery, Evan turned around, his eyes accidentally landing on a teenage girl standing at the bus stop…and a dark shadow looming over her.

Evan’s eyes narrowed.

Elongated translucent claws crept around the girl, idly floating through her personal space. A pair of white dots glowed in place of eyes in its distorted face, its lower body dissolving into smoke. As if sensing Evan’s stare, the Shadow Ghost’s head snapped in his direction.

Reflexively, Evan averted his eyes.

The Doctrine of Blackwood Exorcists. Rule 9: “Spirits must not be looked in the eye, lest they latch onto your soul.”

More than soul-latching, it was a warning against the sudden rush of resentment or sorrow that could overwhelm an exorcist if they made intentional eye contact with spirits.

Out of the corner of his eye, Evan watched the translucent shadow hover over the girl.

Shadow Ghosts, souls that had wandered the earth for far too long to remember what they used to be as humans, which resulted in them losing any spiritual energies that could differentiate them from creatures of the dark and turned them into a silhouette without any definite form. These kinds of ghosts always lingered around people suffering from extreme grief or emotional pain.

Evan had been surrounded by them for years after his mother—

The car door opened. Evan blinked, uncurling his fist that he hadn’t realized had clenched. He snuck another glance sideways. Albeit creepy, Shadow Ghosts weren’t inherently dangerous, so he let them be.

Aaron jumped into his seat, dropping a heavy bag of cream buns and a pack of cigarettes into Evan’s lap. “God, the old lady at the bakery is sweet, but she talks so much. I can’t even tell her I’m in a hurry because then she’ll ask me why I’m in a hurry and then keep asking—hey, you okay?”

No.

Evan plucked a cigarette from his new pack, face impassive. “Yep. Let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the edge of the woods, in front of the gates of the Greene property. Or what used to be the gates.

Rusted hinges groaned as the broken iron bars swung idly in the wind. Creepers and cobwebs wove between the grills, and the boundary walls had all but crumbled to dust.

It still puzzled Evan why exactly these people were going to this extent for this property? Not only was it wrecked beyond repair but the patch of land was located near the forbidden region of the forest; the Dark Woods. That area was strictly restricted by the townsfolk to everyone other than a few members of the town council and the Forest Officer. Anyone caught trespassing without permission could be exiled from town.

Visually speaking, the Greene’s property wasn’t a land someone would willingly buy even if it was exorcised and cleansed, or thoroughly scrubbed with bleach.

If Evan gave a damn about rationality, maybe he’d have pointed it out. But currently, he was too focused on getting through the exorcism alive, and then getting paid for his dangerous endeavor.

Maybe if he asked Aaron to casually exaggerate this life-threatening case to Celie, she would call Evan. At least to curse him for being irresponsible with his life. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d heard his sister’s voice.

The source of his confidence in playing the victim card was unknown. But his confidence in Aaron for dramatizing little things was immense.

Aaron parked the car outside the dilapidated gates that marked the entrance of the land of the Greene family. Evan flung his backpack over one shoulder and made their way into the woods. Dry leaves crunched beneath his black boots, ears straining to pick up the usual chirping of birds and distant howls of animals.

Nothing .

These woods were as dead quiet as a cemetery at midnight. As if all creatures, other than wandering spirits, had fled the area.

Evan pulled the black coat tight around himself, a chill creeping up his spine as he surveyed his surroundings. The air in this forest was always thick with animosity and traces of resentful spirits. If accidentally provoked, there was no saying what creature would pop out of where. After almost a decade in his profession, this kind of atmosphere hardly bothered Evan. But he wasn’t concerned about himself.

There was a thick-skulled idiot strolling beside him.

Aaron, oblivious to Evan’s hyper-alertness, blabbered his way forward about the long history of the Greene’s bloodline that didn’t really interest Evan.

After a while, Evan cut him off. “Just tell me who the mansion belonged to. I don’t need the entire family tree.”

Aaron chuckled, clapping Evan on the back with a little more force than acceptable. He didn’t mean anything ill by that. It just sometimes slipped Aaron’s mind that his buff physique wasn’t directly proportional to the sunshine smile on his face. That his affectionate “clap” on the back might snap Evan’s spine in two.

“Alright, Mr. Impatient, listen up,” Aaron pulled out a little hand diary from his suit blazer, the book ridiculously tiny in his huge hands. “The cottage-style mansion was built around the 1730s and was first owned by William Greene, a merchant who later became a clergyman of the Old Temple. People say he was spiritually and intellectually gifted, but you know how very smart people tend to be a little weird? Yeah, this guy was nothing different.”

A priest of the Old Temple? That abandoned construction people now said was haunted? What irony.

“Go on.”

“He is said to be the writer of many fairytales famous in Emberlyn. Like A Hail from Hell .”

“That’s a horror story,” Evan fiddled with the ring on his right index finger, the red stone gleaming in the daylight. “Do we know how he died?”

“He drowned in Del.”

Not bad. Could’ve been worse than drowning in a sacred river.

“Why do you ask?” Aaron asked, pocketing his diary.

Evan shrugged, shoving his hands into his coat pocket. “It could’ve been his spirit haunting the place.”

Curiosity twinkled in Aaron’s eyes. “You think so?”

It wasn’t impossible. Humans' attachment to materialistic things was the cause of so many wandering spirits in this world. Some couldn’t let go of their dream house they built with blood and sweat. Others insisted on sticking around the family heirloom to bless their future generations.

All flimsy excuses just because they couldn’t accept death, something Evan found difficult to understand.

Death was so much more forgiving than life, but people feared it. Death came once and rid you of all your pain and suffering. Life, on the other hand, dragged you through misery and torture day after day, over and over again.

When his time came, Evan was certain he’d go without a fight. But until that moment, he had no intention of dying.

Coming back to the topic, it was unlikely that William Greene’s spirit was the one haunting the mansion. Because, one, he’d drowned in sacred waters, which would stop him from turning into a vengeful ghost. And two, so much concentrated malevolent energy couldn’t be the doing of one spirit. There had to be several hundred, at least.

Greene Mansion, the place Evan was hired to cleanse came into view at a distance. A familiar, eerie feeling gripped Evan’s fingers until they stiffened in his coat pockets. The dark mist of energy was still present, coating the creeper-laced brick walls in a dark sheath that was invisible to normal people.

Maybe if the Greene’s could see it, they’d have given up on this place for good.

“What do you see?” Aaron asked softly, and Evan realized he’d halted midway towards the mansion. The force of the dark energy pulsating from the property sat heavily on his shoulders, making his skin crawl.

“There’s…something terribly wrong with this place,” he murmured as the ring scorched his finger inside the coat. “The malice is stronger than last time.”

For the first time since coming across this case, uncertainty flashed in Aaron’s eyes. He rested a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Hey, I know I’ve been pushy about this case, but that’s only because you’re a self-righteous asshole who wouldn’t accept monetary help from me or anyone because you think that’s cheap—”

“Charity.”

“—so I did not want you to lose this case. But if it’s beyond you, if it’s too dangerous…we can just turn them down,” Even as he suggested that, Aaron’s eyes dimmed, internally sulking.

Evan’s eyes rolled back on their own. “You’re saying that now ? After bringing me all the way here, you dumbass? What do you think I was trying to tell you since yesterday?”

Aaron pursed his lips. “I thought you were making excuses because you wanted to sleep in. You’ve pulled that before.”

“Never for a case! Only when you asked me to hang out with you.”

“Ouch.”

“I can’t turn back now,” Evan said, resuming towards the mansion with heavy steps. “I’ve decided to give it a shot.” Turning down a client after giving them hope was not something even someone as cheap as Evan would do.

Aaron quickly caught up to him, smiling. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Getting the payment in hand would be worth the trouble.”

If I come out alive, sure.

Evan’s throat bobbed with a gulp as they closed in on the mansion, the creeping tendrils of darkness swirling around Evan’s feet like invisible fingers, crawling up his body. He didn’t react, used to darkness always lingering around him.

Evan pulled his right hand out of the coat pocket, staring at the ring glistening on his finger.

Crimson Eye , a family heirloom passed down from the Blackwood bloodline. As the name suggested, the red stone at the center was shaped like an eye, and if one stared hard enough into the center, he’d be able to spot a dark iris at the heart of the crystal. The purpose of the ring was to protect the bearer from exposed dark auras and spiritual possession during exorcism. But Evan also used it as a radar to test the severity of the malicious energies depending on how dark the shade of the red crystal turned.

On his finger, the red stone had turned a bloody crimson.

Great. He was going to die.

Before Evan could rethink his decision of carrying out the case, footsteps and murmurs stirred from behind. Three unknown faces caught up to them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Greene, you’re here!” Aaron adjusted his blazer and rushed to greet the client like a professional salesman, all smiles and handshakes. “I’m Aaron Brook, Mr. Blackwood’s manager.”

Mr. Greene, a tall and lanky man with grey-dusted hair and frameless glasses, smiled awkwardly at Aaron as they shook hands. “Mr. Brook, I hope you found your way here just fine.”

“Is that…Mr. Blackwood?” Mrs. Greene—short and plump and pretty doe eyes—glanced in Evan’s direction. Color rose in her cheeks as she left Aaron’s extended hand hanging behind and drifted into Evan’s direction like a feet-less spirit. “Oh my, I never imagined the infamous exorcist of Emberlyn would be this young and handsome and…tall.”

Evan doubted his 5’11’’ stature was impressive compared to her tree of a husband, who was presently pretending his wife wasn’t gawking at a boy her son’s age.

Unruffled, Evan extended a hand, and Mrs. Greene eagerly clasped it in both of hers. “Evan Blackwood. I’m here to inspect this plot at the request of Mr. Greene.”

“What a pleasure! Christina Greene,” she gave Evan’s hand a squeeze before reluctantly letting it drop.

Evan side-eyed Aaron, who looked like he was suppressing a laugh, then shook hands with a gloomy Mr. Greene before following them towards the small wooden fence that separated the mansion from the rest of the plot. However, the couple stopped near the gate, not daring to set foot into the mansion’s boundary.

Even if they couldn’t see the clouds of dark energy or the black tendrils circling around their warm bodies, something about the place was inherently unsettling. As if tied down to an invisible rock, their feet refused to carry them into the property.

Evan glanced at them, then turned his gaze to Aaron, who quickly understood. Smiling, he asked, “Mr. Greene, is everything alright?”

Mr. Greene scratched his neck, a drop of sweat glistening on his forehead as he blinked uncontrollably behind his glasses. “We should just talk here.”

Mrs. Greene had gone completely silent, not even sparing her newly developed crush a glance.