Delinquency

by Daemon McRae

Act Fourteen: Improv

Act Fourteen: Improv

The restless spirit is a continual focus of debate. Their causes, natures, and intent are all open to conjecture, and no two researchers can seem to agree on more than a handful of various ‘facts’ at a time. There are a few commonly accepted ideas, ones that permeate from the most well-read scholars on spirituality and psychic phenomena to the layman sitting at home watching a ghost story. Unfortunately, that very short list does not include a consensus on whether or not they’re dangerous.

Common theory points to the idea of two types of spiritual hauntings: intelligent and residual. Some investigators consider poltergeists a form of haunting, but they, by definition, are caused by a living being. Residual hauntings, or static hauntings, are akin to a stone tape recording. They’re a type of spiritual energy trapped in a specific location, performing the same action and making the same sounds over and over again. Ghosts that can be seen on specific nights of the year, or under certain conditions, fall into this category. It is generally accepted that they do not acknowledge their surroundings, simply repeating themselves over and over. Many cases involve this energy being tied to a specific object or location, and may require either a cleansing, or for the object in question to simply be removed, breaking the link.

Intelligent hauntings are, if not more common, much more popular in fiction and pop culture. It is a self-aware presence, capable of acknowledging and interacting with its environment. These spirits may manipulate small objects, verbally communicate, and move throughout their environment freely, even recognizing changes in their surroundings (i.e. new people, moved furniture, renovations, etc.). Most often these spirits may not be aware that they are dead, or that whatever obligation they feel to the world of the living has been fulfilled. Some experts encourage communication with a spirit of this nature, to encourage it to move on, or to hep it fulfill its last goals.

Unfortunately, there are some spirits with which bargaining is impossible. Some ghosts who have become so malevolent, so powerful, as to become something else entirely. We call them monsters.

The blinking went unnoticed at first. Unless someone was staring in the right direction, the most they would see would be a flickering light in the corner of their eye. The kind of thing most people had become used to, especially in a public school with a janitor seemingly allergic to new light bulbs. Infrequent to start, the lights in the room began to flicker at more rapid intervals, for varying lengths of time. It wasn’t until Treble looked back at the door they’d come in, did he see the lights go out. Only for a second, across one table down the aisle. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head as the light came back on after a couple of seconds. “Um...” he started, in a low, unsure tone.

Spooks was the only one who heard him. “Um… what?”

Treble thought about what he thought he’d seen, then shook his head. “Nothing. Just a-” he stopped talking as one of the ‘lanterns’ on a nearby table blinked. That one he hadn’t imagined. Of course, the face was pointed away from him, so all he saw was a dimming of light in that general direction. “Ok, you know how once in a while we’ll ask one of those questions and have a brief moment of clarity in which we realize exactly how weird our lives are?”

Spooks nodded. “Yes. I’ve considered writing those down and selling them as a book.”

“Well, here’s your title: Is it possible for the light in a child’s skull that’s been turned into a lantern to go out if it’s not plugged in to anything?” he asked in a disturbingly calm tone completely out of sync with the slowly rising panic in his chest.

“Hmm, too long. Also, what?” Spooks asked, following DT’s gaze. By that point, the light had come back, and all was as it was a minute ago.

“FUCK ME!” Dusty barked. “This thing just fucking blinked at me!”

Spooks and Treble exchanged glances. “Is this the part where we run? I feel like this is the part where we run,” Treble reasoned, his voice wavering slightly.

“Run where?!” Twilight asked, having been yanked out of her reverie in researching the catalog by Dusty’s yelling.

“The door IS locked,” Spooks pointed out.

“Gee thanks. Dusty, is the lamp… head… thing… moving?” Treble asked, turning to address his friend.

Dusty tore his eyes from the offending décor to look at Treble. Then his face went almost as pale as Spook’s. “No, but THAT one is!”

Treble blinked, not turning around. “Let me guess. There’s one behind me?”

Spooks nodded, having seen it as well. Twilight just swallowed loudly and said, “Yes.”

“And it’s staring at me?” he continued.

“Uh-huh,” Dusty grunted.

“And it’s floating, isn’t it? Weird ethereal light coming out of its neck pointing at the ground like the beam from a UFO or something?” DT asked, reaching that level of panic where every sentence was as even and calm as a science lecture, if only because he’d burned out all of his energy trying not to spontaneously combust in fear.

“You’re surprisingly good at this game,” Spooks commented, taking a step back.

“One last question: Is it coming towards me?” Treble said, his entire body seemingly frozen in place.

Twilight nodded again, backing away at a slightly faster pace than Spooks, who had already reached the middle of the desk. “Unfortunately.”

“Dusty?”

“Yeah-huh?”

“Wrench.”

DD grunted as he tossed the heavy metal tool to Treble, who caught it after only a brief fumble. He then spun on his heel and yelled in what to some people might sound like panic, maybe, bringing the wrench around with all of his might. His eyes widened as the blunt end met the almost alien-looking head-lantern dead in the temple, bursting it open like a ceramic jar and sending pieces of… itself flying across a nearby table. Almost as soon as the hit connected, the light inside extinguished like someone had flipped a switch. “HO MY GOD let’s never do that again!” Treble cried, leaning on the desk as he held the wrench like a baseball bat.

“Do you mean before or after we deal with all of those floating kid skulls with lights in them?” Bones asked flatly, pointing towards the aisle leading towards the door. Indeed, all of the lanterns that had rested on the tables or hung from the ceiling in place of the normal lights had left their posts, floating in the air like a swarm of oversized, malicious fireflies.

Dusty toe his eyes from the oncoming swarm to level an unpleasant glare at Spooky. “Do you ENJOY being the source of all of these really disturbing sentences, or something?!”

Spooks pulled out his book and a flashlight, setting the tome on the desk and reading quickly. “Or something. Now shut up and play ball while I read.”

Treble nodded uncertainly, handing Dusty the wrench back in exchange for a sturdy metal pipe, which was shorter but easier to wield. Twilight just looked around in panic. “Um, what can I do?!”

“Hold the flashlight!” Dusty barked, as he swung for the fences, shattering a head and scattering the pieces to the wind. Some of the shards hit the other oncoming lanterns like shrapnel, which only served to disturb their flightpath, which they then corrected to aim themselves at Dusty. “He’s gonna need both hands!”

“What?!” Twilight shrieked, looking at a very focused Spooks with no lack of confusion on her face.

Treble grunted as his pipe knocked one of the heads into another, causing them to tailspin and clatter to the floor into pieces. It was less destructive, and impressive, than his first swing, but it was also much less tiring. “Just do it!”

“OK, OK! Here,” she sniped, grabbing the flashlight and holding it over the kid’s shoulder.

Spooks just nodded his thanks, and turned the pages as fast as he could. “Come on, where did I put it?” he grumbled to himself.

“What are you even looking for?!” Twilight demanded, as bits of face and hair flew past her. She tried her best not to think about it.

“I can’t remember how to pronounce it, alright?” Bones barked. Twilight balked at his uncharacteristic aggression, and decided to leave him to his work, silently urging him to hurry the hell up.

“Ey, Spooks, we’re running out of swinging room here!” Treble relayed urgently. “And I think the other half of the library just noticed there was a party going on over here!”

Dusty looked over his shoulder at a fresh wave of floating lanterns coming at them from the far end of the room, and groaned in protest as he leapt over the side of the desk to meet them head on. In his haste, however, he missed a head diving at him from above, which crashed into his back and shattered like the rest. Except this one detonated with a splash of fire as it died. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Dusty shouted, shaking his arms and throwing his burning shirt to the ground. He smacked the few flames in his hair and on his arms away, and ducked under a nearby table as another head dove for him. This one, too, exploded, leaving the top of the table awash in flames. “Really?! Now they fucking EXPLODE?!”

Treble knocked a few more lanterns away, and turned to see Dusty scurry away from the end of the table now on fire. He snapped his head back in time to duck under a would-be kamikaze attack, then rose to knock another out of the air. “SPOOKS!”

“Yeah, I got it!” Bones shouted, climbing up on the desk, waving his arms wide.

“What are you DOING?!” Twilight shrieked.

“Giving them a target!” Bones yelled. Which is exactly what he did, as the heads stopped in the air, some mid-dive, and charged for him. Of course, he was planning for exactly that, and dove back under the desk with less-than-elegant results, landing solidly on his feet and feeling the shock throughout his legs. The lanterns, on the other hand, simply crashed into each other, leaving something akin to napalm showering over the desk. Spooks swept his book up in one arm , and held it open in front of him.

With the first wave having been knocked out of the air or lost in Bones’ fakeout, he found himself with a few spare seconds before the next wave reached them. Pulling a simple metal relief, brass and sharp, out of his pocket, he weilded it like a dagger, holding it in the air high above his head. “Guys, get in here!”

Treble and Dusty didn’t need any more encouragement. They scrambled across the floor and dove behind the desk just as Spooky started chanting: “Nomaku samanda bazara dan senda makaroshada sowataya untarata kanman! On sonbani sonba un bazara un patta! On amirite un patta! On shuchiri kyara roha un ken sowaka! ON BAZARA YAKUSHA UN!”, he shouted, punctuating the last sentence by jamming the relief into the wood of the desk still untouched by the flames.

The effect was almost immediate. A great ripple of energy washed over the area, bursting forth from the brass dagger in a fierce wave. It pushed back the lanterns, and even served to douse some of the flames. Not entirely dispatched, the lanterns tried their aerial assault again, only to be forced back as if against a great tide. Again and again they tried, only to be washed away and sent spiraling into the air over and over again. Spooks closed the book and leaned on the desk, taking a deep, raspy breath. Treble and Dusty followed suit.

Twilight looked around at the small armada of floating lanterns, now circling the barrier like vultures, then to the boys. “Alright. I’ve seen some absolutely weird stuff since I started hanging out with you guys. Floating, exploding heads! Dancing dead kids! Meat on the damn walls! But what. The HELL. WAS THAT?!”

Spooks opened a single eye and looked at her half-heartedly. “Japanese Buddhist Mantra. Derived from Sanskrit. It’s a prayer to the Five Great Wrathful Kings. Now please be quiet. If you get any louder this headache is gonna knock my ass out, and the only thing holding that barrier up is me staying awake.”

Twilight stilled herself for a second, then sat down hard on the floor, her exhaustion catching up with her. “And why do you know that?” she hissed.

Spooks gestured lazily at the book in his lap, which Treble picked up, taking over the explanation. “This,” he said raspily, catching his breath, “Is Spook’s own journal. It’s all the spells we’ve tried at one point or another that actually DID something, so we wrote them down. Well, he wrote them down. And now that we have some breathing room, there might be something in here that we can use to supplement the barrier in case this kid falls asleep.”

Spooks rolled his head to look at Treble, holding his eyes open. “Near the middle, the page with the blank papers clipped to it. Onmyodo barrier spells. You’ll need to make some talismans. I don’t have any proper ink, unfortunately. Maybe there’s a pen around here somewhere...” he mused, looking around him lazily.

Twilight held up a hand. “I got this,” she muttered, and fished around the top of the desk, brushing a few remaining flickers of flame out as she fetched a small bottle and quill out of a drawer. “Found it when I was looking for something useful. That work?”

Spooks nodded. “For now. Ideally I’d be using a homebrew ink made of some plants and minerals, but we’re not going for gold here.”

Treble held up one of the rectangles of off-white paper and groaned. “Is this that weird mulberry stuff? Last time you tried to get me to make a talisman I perforated the damn thing.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Give me those,” she huffed, taking the paper and book. “You boys write like you’re trying to bully the paper into finishing your sentences for you.”

Dusty raised an eyebrow as Twilight went to work copying the kanji and related symbols out of the journal. “Where’d you learn to write so fine?”

Not looking up, she answered, “Well, I don’t practice calligraphy, if that’s what you’re thinking. And from the looks of this journal neither do you,” she chided at Bones, who just shrugged. “But you learn to write softly when you’re trying to fit several hours of quadratic equations on a single 3x5 note card. We do have penmanship lessons, as well, but I only took one or two before I figured my time could be better spent developing my telemetric analyzer.”

“Tell me metric what now?” Dusty asked, tilting his head.

Spooks smacked him in the shoulder. “Telemetric, you ass. It’s automatically measuring and transmitting data wirelessly from a remote source to… you know what? I don’t have the energy or crayons for this. Please finish those barrier spells so I can pass out properly.”

Treble nodded at his weary friend, and reached a hand for some paper to help. Twilight, though, swatted it away. “Stop that. I don’t need your barbarian mitts getting us all napalmed.”

Dusty gave her a curious look, and glanced at Treble. “You’re right. We really DO need a word for that moment of clarity when you realize how fucked up your life is.”

Author's Note:

Yay, references.

Also, if you know anyone who's decent at cover art and is a fan/would like this story, please let me know. I need better cover art.

Also I have a Patreon.

Comments

[Dlaf rferg]

What would the cover art be? The 'gang' in front of a load of fucked-up shit, like dead children head lanterns, or school-turned-living being?

That'd be pretty damn cool, actually. Or just sick in the literal sense.

[Ether Space]

8591854
Yeah, and most of their faces would be them thinking, "...Really? Again???"

[Latrans]

Honestly, I think the worn tome is a pretty good cover image but...

8591854
Im thinking a pile of their 'tools of the trade': an old tome or two, knuckle dusters, spray paint, a couple occult fetishes, knifes, a stick of TNT, etc. all piled around a flame thrower.

And speaking of flame throwers, thank you, Daemon, for not making them bottomless destructo-guns. Too many people dont realize a completely filled millitary-grade thrower only has fuel for a few minutes of use.

[Neece]

Twily should remember that she too has some mojo. Probably enough to grab and probably crush some flaming flying children skulls.

Gotta say I like her in the team. She doesn't know a lot about the Supernatural (yet), but she brings some brains into the fray. And probably heavy magical artillery too, in the future.

And yeah, they do need that word

[Freethinker037]

Cover art idea:

Them standing around the back of Rubble's wagon with the hatch open and the back filled with all the crap they use.

Thoughts?

[Phoenix Flight]

8591854
I think any NOPE. image would suffice ... for accuracy’s sake...

[Daemon McRae]

8594782
Who?

[Alondro]

Residual hauntings, or static hauntings, are akin to a stone tape recording. They’re a type of spiritual energy trapped in a specific location, performing the same action and making the same sounds over and over again.

They're due to a variation of quantum entanglement, usually resulting from interaction of a bioelectrical impression with a temporary charged vacuum emboitment.