Page 99 of Possessed By Shadows

Epilogue

Lukas had not been back to the house. He’d been staying at his apartment. Sky had been staying with us. Things were a little…cramped. Our small flat really was too small for three people. I guess I needed more space than Micah, and sexing him up with the possibility of Sky showing up made it difficult to get hard. We could only hide in the bathroom so often, and while Micah wasn’t nearly as put off by having someone else there as I was, he was cautious, too.

I knew my dad was still around, working on the house, and had seen my mom once or twice. She tried to visit our flat, but I didn’t want those emotions, pain and betrayal, invading my home. Micah wanted me to confront her, though it might help heal some of the trauma of my childhood, but my therapist helped me understand I wasn’t ready. Not because I was at fault, but because it was someone else’s problem I couldn’t control. One more betrayal. And I had enough to deal with without adding that to my plate. Time, my therapist said. Healing wasn’t a race.

My mom only saw me at the shop now. She attended one of the sewing classes, but stuttered through the project, not finishing it, or really seeming interested in it. Micah pointed out she tried at least, to connect a little. I took my mixed mess of emotions to my therapist to hash it out, because I couldn’t be expected to keep the shadows at bay without sorting through it.

She went home, returning to work after a week visit, promising to call. At least she treated Micah well. She smiled at him, gripped his hand, thanked him for the holiday gifts we’d sent, and for watching out for me. I’d tried not to act like an asshole, no matter how much I felt like there was a dagger in my gut every time I saw my parents.

When Lukas was finally ready to return to the house, he asked us to go with him. That was a bit of a battle between him and Micah. Micah didn’t want me anywhere near that haunted attic. Lukas claimed he’d had people in to cleanse it, including Dion. But both Micah and I knew that cleansings weren’t permanent fixes, at least not around us.

To stop their arguing and the growing divide between them, I agreed.

The walk from our flat to his house wasn’t long, but I was relying a lot on my cane these days. I gripped Micah’s hand and kept him close. Lukas trailed behind us at a slightly slower pace. I kept an eye on him in case he had a blackout.

“Really sucks not being able to drive,” he muttered.

“It’s like three blocks,” I said. The route took a bit because we had to go around some large properties. “You have your own yard now. You could decorate it with gnomes.”

“No fence. People would just steal them.”

“Are you planning to live there?” Micah asked as we reached the street and stared at the house. It wasn’t smoldering with shadows, but still had a creepy vibe. He shivered.

“I don’t know,” Lukas admitted. “Maybe I can create a tourist attraction? People can rent the haunted house?”

His ghost crew had been in several times, but without me or Lukas present, everything had gone quiet. Nothing on video or audio to say something was out of the ordinary. Jason had released the footage he had of me being possessed, which I’d watched once. It freaked me out, and it had been me. But totally not me. Muttering in two octaves lower than my normal one. Face distorted with anger. I looked possessed. That had gone a bit viral, which meant I hid in the back of the shop a lot of days, especially when the ghost tours opened back up and people came in looking to ask about my experience.

The stuff from the house, all the moving furniture and dark presence that had demanded its stuff back had not been caught on video. Jason’s phone had malfunctioned, turning the recording to video snow. He cursed long and loud over that. The garage window shattering outward by itself, that had been caught on film. Lots of speculation about both videos. If I never had to see either again, I’d be thrilled.

Lukas headed up to open the door, greeted by my dad as he opened it. The house looked better on the outside. No more boards covering everything. Windows replaced, siding fixed, painted. It looked fresh. The window up in the attic that looked down on the street had a face peering outward, but I said nothing.

Micah squeezed my hand. Was he feeling webs or ants? The face was a kid. Not the black-eyed one.

We walked in behind Lukas, finding the inside of the house transformed. Lower level opened up. Kitchen completely redone, all the walls painted and furniture looking high end. He could sell the house for a pretty profit. Though New Orleans law stated that he had to list it as haunted. It was a weird perk of the city to let residents know what they were in for.

I didn’t wait for the tour. I headed upstairs, slow to keep the pressure off my hip as the stupid thing had been hating me lately. I had physical therapy scheduled to restart next week, and tried to keep moving in the meantime. The attic was mostly untouched. Empty, though the light and apparently most of the wiring had been replaced. Not that technology mattered to ghosts.

Everything was still and silent as I reached the top of the ladder/stairway, Micah trailing behind. I expected the yokai of the dead cop to lurch at me, but when I closed my eyes and reached out with an openness to feel, as Dion had taught me, lowering my shields a little, it was a child’s hand that slid into mine.

I opened my eyes to stare at the little girl. She gave me a soft smile, less afraid.He’s not here anymore.She told me without saying a word.

“That’s great,” I told her, wondering if there was a way to get them all to move on. “Can I help you?”

She seemed to think about that for a minute. A flicker of other faces appeared in the attic, vanishing as quickly as they came. All kids. My heart broke for them. Then she nodded.Below.

She flickered out for a second, seeming to turn into a bit of light and then dropped through the floor. I turned and headed down the stairs feeling all of them become little tugs on me. Like they were using me to fuel their journey out of the attic. And that was okay. It was Sunday. I’d get to go home with Micah and nap. Sky had promised us a few hours of quiet, which meant I planned to have Micah wrapped around me in more than one way while we had the privacy.

I didn’t stop on the second floor, or even the main level, but continued following the little tugs down into the basement. It smelled of paint. Lots of treatments to kill the mold. The area was still unsafe to use for really anything. Not even storage as it would likely get wet and moldy. The far corner had a wall that appeared to have been repaired a few times, made out of cement blocks. The kids gathered around there. I really hoped I didn’t have to break the wall in Lukas’s newly fixed house.

He had followed us down, and his gaze was focused on the kids too.

“You see them?” I asked.

He nodded, looking somber. “You hear them?”

“Yes. Mostly they stay in the attic. Saidheis gone. The cop maybe?” I shrugged and ran my fingers along the top edge of the blocks. They were sort of painted into place now with several layers of a mold blocking substance. But I wriggled one loose.

“It’s just some pipe in there,” Lukas said.