Saturday, 13 February 2016

Dance Hall: Chapter 3, Night Time Vistors

Hello, I am meant to be dying my hair today. I saw Deadpool yesterday. I joked I was only going to see Ryan Reynolds' arse, going off the close up in the trailer. Turns out you do see it multiple times, in different states of visibility. It was good, though I was disappointed that it was only a 15. I wrote the majority of this chapter than last week. This chapter is bit dialogue heavy but I'm trapped by myself. These things won't be perfect as I'm uploading them as I'm writing them so chapters will probably have slight plot issues. No proper title yet.

Chapter 3, Night Time Visitors

I accepted the soup. Dinner was mostly silently while chewing bread. We went back to our rooms immediately after. Thank God. Still no ghosts. No presences. This doesn’t seem right. Ghosts don’t hide this long.

“Don’t you think it’s odd?” I ask my mother again.

“The hotel isn’t…”

“No,” Seriously how can she have not noticed. “I mean how quiet it is.” Maybe she did deal with the ghosts before she sent them off.

“Not really. It’s the quiet season.”


“If there use to a lot of new, highly energised people wanting to make contract, two mediums who are not interested,” Mum’s not quite over the Neomancy. She paused now at her door. “Well, why chase after Tom Cruise when Ryan Gosling is throwing himself at you.” She walks into her room, leaving me dumb founded being called Tom Cruise. I am Ryan Reynolds. Also that’s just dumb and we are the only one here right at this moment.

“That’s a nice theory, but completely not how ghost work.” I turn to Aytia lurking in the hallway.

“I am aware of that.” I go into my own room, not wanting to have a conversation with Junior Creep. She pushes her way into the room as I’m shutting the door. I shut it anyway.

“Do you mind?”

“No,” she sits on the bed, ignoring my annoyance.

“So where are the ghosts?”

She sighs.

“They’re in the empty rooms. We don’t get along,”

“Why don’t you get along?” I ask leaning against the draws that has a pair of twins attached to it that will throw whatever is on or in the draws at you. God, who want to stay here? They had given the last owner a concussion. Okay, maybe I did know why they didn’t get along.

“Er…,” she lays down on the bed. “They were just everywhere and I didn’t want Dad to know that I can see ghosts, because he would like never stop…”

She keeps going, while I step out of the hall and to the room next door. The door is locked. The keys are probably lying in unlockable desk down stairs, but ghosts don’t need locks so why bother.

I kneed down by the door and looked through the key hole to darkness. I get down on the floor to see underneath the door. I can’t see anything either. Sometimes you can see ghost in the dark, like mirrors reverting all the available light. Though, also not. Physics when it comes to ghosts has not been figured out.

I’m tempted just to summon one, but knowing me I would summon them all and my mother will kill me, leaving to haunt at this cheesy hellhole. Limbo would more accurate. limbohole? Maybe I could feel one. I place my least favourite hand at the door. I can just get my pinkie finger under the door. It just feels like the cold air of the hall.

“What are you doing?”

I look up at Aytia and get up from the floor.

“What are you?” I say finally. This town is meant to be full of witches, but they no way to know what someone is unless they tell or show you. She looks confused.

“A…witch?” She says it like it might be the wrong answer. I walk past her back to my room.

“Wait, are you not?” See.

“No, I’m a Necomancer,” I say for the first time. I’ve never had this conversation. Usually, my conversations involving magic were with people my mum knew so they knew/presumed we were both Mediums. Why correct anyone when it comes to how powerful you are?

“What?” She looks shocked from what I can see of her face. “You can control the dead.” Technically, I’ve really did it, on purpose anyway. I just nod.

“Wow,” she sounds in awe. “You’re like crazy powerfully then.” In the Death Contracter scale but that should be nothing to a witch. They can really fuck shit up and have epic wars with other high powered creatures. I hear creaking. I realise it probable my mum can hear us if she still up.

“Shut up and get in here,” I whisper through my teeth. She hesitates before doing as I say. I dump myself on the bed and stare up the ceiling. I’ve probably messed up my sleeping pattern from napping earlier.

“Shut the door,” I sit back up. Atyia is just staring at me.


“I’ve never met anyone who’s that powerful.”

“What are you on about?” I honestly don’t have a clue why this is such a big deal to her.

“You can control things without a heartbeat.”


“That’s like half the demons.” Demons were basically magic users without souls for ever reason. Some are cigma looking and others monstrous, all human.

“You know that’s not how magic works.” Well, I would hope so, 16 was middle-aged for witches.

“Yeah, it is.” I stare her down.

“I only have power over the dead. I summon and banish them, that’s it. I can’t lead an army of the dead.”

“But you could.” I couldn’t, that would be on the high level of Necomancy, which I doubt I ever will be. Though, I’ve never tried.

“So they could float through walls and throw vases at people?”

“Well, yeah but you could steal their energy…”

“You’re talking about Dark magic,” I get from the bed. “You know what path that leads to.” Being almost immortal without a soul or loveones.

“I didn’t mean you would,” she looks almost apologetic. “I’m sorry, it just I’ve never met a Necomancer and the stories about you guys are epic.”

“So are the story about the witches. It doesn’t make it true.” Magic didn’t deal a lot with facts. It’s all just folktales and gossip. One person becomes several or vice versa and has goddess like powers.

“But you’re rare.”

“Exactly, there is no base of reality,” I pause thinking. “Take the Slayers, they all gone but few hiding out somewhere. The last story we have them of was made into a comic book that stopped when she died.” Using one life story to sell comic books was one of the most interesting ways to make money out of this magic existence. “She survived her whole family being slaughtered by jumping off a roof. If it’s her story she sad bad arse, but taken from the point of view of anyone else, all the adult slayers died to save two kids and a baby that just go on to live terrible lifes by all accounts.”

She nods.

“Except the Slayer are all bad asses with tons of powers…”

“How many witches have two active powers?”

“I do,” she says smugly.

“How many?” I choose to ignore her which seems to be a repeating theme.

“I don’t know,” She says finally. “Like 1 in 50, maybe”.

“Exactly and almost never get as strong as someone with one. Even then the stories always involve being ultra-powerful and have active powers that don’t even belong to the same family.”

“So you can’t raise the dead?”

“No,” I lie. I don’t trust her enough to her about being my neighbour fish started swimming when I touched it. She complete stranger and I never even told my mum about that when I said it. It died again a few days later so it possible I did nothing.

“Anyway, what with your dad and the ghost buying?”

“He inherited this place and decided to play up the haunted thing?”


“Or invisible demon messed up the house. I don’t know I wasn’t born. I hate this place too, but I don’t live here so stop the judgey stuff.”

“I’m not,” Who was I judge when it came to mistreating the dead? “Except maybe the room of dolls.”

She shrugs.

“As nice as this chat has been, we’re leaving early so I rather get some sleep, than learn the history of this hotel.”

I get up and lead her out of the room.

“I’ll see around then.”

I just hum in response before shutting and locking the door.

Next Chapter: Vague Warnings

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