Chapter 1
Dearest Aurelia, I have done this deed in your golden name.
A long time ago, I shared a cup of coffee with Death. They asked me how it tasted, and I said it was bitter.
That is how coffee is supposed to taste, Quinn. It is bitter and burns. Yet, people are convinced they like it, just to give them a little more energy, a little more acceptance into a society that favors routine. They’ll add cream and sugar to make it lighter, dilute it until that bitter burn is unrecognizable, just so they can say they drank it.
My meeting with Death was a privilege, one granted long ago during one of my first decades as the official Scribe of Hell. Since then, I have lived on the soul institute of my purpose. I did not need food, nor energy, only the approval of my Lord. Besides, coffee was a luxury, one not to be found upon the burning beaches of Hell.
After so many years and, admittedly, lifetimes, I had forgotten Death’s words. It was not until Kai and Amanda invited me out for coffee a few mornings ago that Death’s silky voice rethreaded in my head. It was a small café, the walls a warm red, and the wooden furniture a smoky brown. Ovens released scents of freshly baked pastries, carried by the light wisps of smoke, scented like a rich mix of nuts and chocolate.
Despite the heavy crowd of patrons chatting, typing, and chewing, we found ourselves in a secluded silence, tucked away in a small table designed with a painting of a chessboard on its smooth plank top. We sat there a while before they spoke, my coffee already cooled and unapproachable, the unasked-for whipped cream broken into fragments of curdled tectonics that I swirled with a wooden stick.
I pulled myself up to the sound of Kai’s light cough. They smiled softly, asking me if I had heard them. I had not. Kai suggested that perhaps I’d find it beneficial to use my recorder. Here is the conversation I transcribed from that rather brief tape.
Amanda: We’d like to make you an offer.
Kai: Okay, look at you all official.
Amanda: You’re officially on my nerves.
Kai: We just started talking. Anyways, Quinn, we’d like to make—
Amanda: I was talking.
Kai: You’re fired.
Amanda: You wish. You’re stuck with me, guardian. Which reminds me. I got my math test back today, you gotta sign it.
Kai: Again?
I shut off the recorder.
After they had a brief huddle with brief bickers releasing from their arm shielded discourse and piercing my ears with sporadic notions of ‘back to school nights,’ and ‘child labor laws,’ they finally collected themselves. Amanda, with a heavy look in her eyes, lifted her plastic cup in the air, tilting it forward slightly.
“Quickly, turn around. Do you see that girl?” she asked quietly, placing her cup back on the ring of condensation it had left behind. Following her request, I swiftly turned my head around, my eyes locking with a young woman about Amanda’s age. In the brief second of our encounter, I got a sense of warmth from her rich brown eyes.
Turning back to Amanda, I nodded curtly. Upon my acknowledgement, she reached across the table and pressed the start button on my recorder. I did not appreciate this.
Amanda: Her name is Charlie.
Kai: Charlotte Miller.
Amanda: Charlie lives in town. I go to school with her. We used to be kind of close. Well, I had a trio situation with her and Evan. You don’t know Evan, but you’llknow Evan; he’s over a lot. Anyways, they say trios don’t tend to work, but we’ve always been super close. But we stopped being close last year.
Kai: Amanda.
Amanda: Kai. I’m getting there. So, the reason we stopped being close is because of this.
Sliding her finger along the thin gold chain around her neck, Amanda revealed a small aquamarine gemstone sitting on the end.
Amanda: It’s pure and blessed aquamarine. It has the properties to communicate with the dead. I bought it a few years ago—
Kai: She stole it…
Amanda: I stole it a few years ago, but never really saw it in action until Charlie. Her parents died early last year. Car crash. Her sister Martha came home from college just to keep Charlie in school with us… but things were different, obviously. Evan and I thought she was just grieving in a weird way. But one day, Charlie called me in a panic, she kept insisting she had overslept, but it was a Saturday and we literally had nothing to do. I still raced over, because I am a good friend, and I walked in on her talking to herself. But then my necklace began to glow, and I heard them, too— spirits. I heard their true voices, wicked, dude, they were wicked, telling her these nasty things. I tried to warn her, I did, but she snapped. We got into a pretty nasty fight. Then, after that, she got worse. It is like she is possessed. Her style has changed her whole energy. I mean, the girl is so obsessed with rules now she won’t even cross the street when the red hand thing has just changed.
Quinn: I’m sorry about your friend Amanda, but what does this have to do with me?
Amanda: It’s a case, stupid.
Quinn: You told her? This is absolutely unacceptable, Kai.
Kai: Yeah. I know, but you’ll get over it. For now, take the help. Don’t look at me like that, Quinn. Amanda and I, we know this town. I know what’s happening everywhere in the world right now. Think about it, I could bring you cases from all over… it could help you get to 100 a lot quicker.
Amanda: And, if you team up with Kai, then I have to automatically be your assistant too, because like, corporate. I could help you organize cases, keep track do whatever. I also have a pretty dope collection of magical oddities I am certain will come in handy… if you help Charlie first.
Quinn: Why not help Charlie yourself?
Amanda: I’ve tried, but there’s a banish two spirits to Hell ’know how, I just don’t know how. You’ve got the knowledge I need. Kai’s got the knowledge you need, and honestly, so do I. Unless, of course, you have to have some weird romantic history with every case?
Kai: She’s trying to be funny. She’s not. So? Go, team?
I thought it over for a moment, my eyes glancing back at my coffee. Death’s words hung in my ears like weights— they’ll add cream and sugar to make it lighter, dilute it until that bitter burn is unrecognizable.
I shook their hands.
After an exhausting afternoon of picking Sammy up from Seward and Briar’s, then Sammy showing us what she did with Seward’s paints, then paying for the damage to Briar’s antique bookcase, then a quick dinner, then trying to get Sammy to bed at a reasonable time, we were finally ready to have our first official meeting as whatever this was to be.
We gathered in Amanda’s room. It was tight quarters, but it offered both an array of background information and privacy as we began to piece together the case. Amanda pulled out a small pink box from underneath her bed. It was vibrant and decorated with colorful stickers— which greatly contradicted the rest of the neutral tones that decorated everything else in her room. On the lid of the box read ’CAE!’.
“Cae,” Amanda clarified, sitting on her bed, and placing the lid beside her, “Charlie, Amanda, Evan.”
“Why not Ace?” Kai said, jumping up on the bed and picking up the lid to investigate it.
Amanda pulled the lid back from their hands, “Obviously, we didn’t think of that,” she retorted, as her face began to bloom with redness. Kai laughed into their unnecessarily long plaid sleeves as I dragged her desk chair to face the bed and took a seat.
Placing the lid beside her, Amanda gently dumped the contents of the box out. Here is a list of what was found inside:
1. Photographs
2. Some trinkets, such as corks, beads, and small animal figurines
3. A beaded bracelet with Amanda’s name spelled out on the string.
4. A few movie tickets
5. A few sheets of paper with endearing words on them, such as ‘good luck on your math test today, Mands!’ and ‘I have such pretty best friends— C.’
6. An obituary clipping
As Kai filtered through the photos, I picked up the small newspaper scrap. It listed the assumed information: the date they would be laid to rest, the family they left behind, etc. But my eyes were more drawn to the photo. It was in black and white, but even still, I could see the sharp whiteness in their deceased couple’s eyes.
“Was Charlie Adopted?” I asked.
Amanda’s eyes shot up from the bead she had been pressing between her fingers, “How’d you know?”
Gently, I handed her the small excerpt, explaining to her my deduction. She dropped the small bead back in the box, then stared at the image, cradling the piece of paper on her wrists.
“I met Charlie one of the first times I ran away. It was before Kai; it was before living here. I had not made it far, just to a touristy café a few miles from home, down by the shore,” she laughed lightly, though her face stayed frozen in somberness. “Charlie and her parents were vacationing there, where I used to live, I mean. Charlie’s parents weren’t paying her any mind, so she asked me to share her croissant with her, and we just talked. She told me all about here, about Arlington River… about the freedom of such a busy town that was so different from the freedom of an isolated one. ’There’s no focus there, Mandy,’ she said, ’just distractions’.”
Amanda stared at the image a moment longer, her hands starting to tremble. Then she dropped it, as if the paper were burning her. Shooting her head up, Amanda forced a laugh from her cracked throat, “Woah, holy lore drop Batman!” she laughed harder now, scooping up the beads. “My point is her parents have always been a little distant… like mine, I guess,” she played with the last bead caught in her wrinkled blanket before throwing it into the box. “It’s not because she’s adopted per se, but I think Charlie always thought that. She was desperate for their approval, to be worthy as their daughter. We bonded over that.”
Kai helped her collect the rest of the items. Once it was all gathered, she placed the newspaper clipping on top, as if an additional lid for all the memories she was shutting in the box. She placed the real lid back on, pressing a little harder the necessary. Amanda handed the box to me, smiling softly, “You already connected one piece from this puzzle, Sherlock. Maybe you should hold on to it while the case is in action… like an inanimate character witness.”
Thanking her and wishing her goodnight, Kai and I left the room, leaving an uncertain feeling lingering in the air. Before I could open my bedroom door, Kai stopped me, grabbing my shoulder, “I worry about her, Quinn,” they said, their voice dropping low, “She feels so much and somehow that all builds into she doesn’t care at all, and it convinces everyone, even her. I know her relationship, or her old relationship with Charlie… it… haunts her, Quinn. I want to help her. I know the feeling.”
Putting my hand on their shoulder, I tried my best to curve my lips into a smile, “I know the feeling too.”
Kai winked at me, then walked away, only their gentle, pointed laugh left lingering in my blushing ears. I did not sleep much that night. I merely stared at Sammy, praying that the soft smile that curled her small lips knew that despite our internal and external differences, I loved her— every day I will fight to prove myself to her, prove myself worthy of her love, not the other way around.
____
The next morning went unexpectedly smoothly. In a shocking turn of events, Amanda had woken up first, already dressed and preparing breakfast before I could even pull Sammy out of her sheets. Amanda was also surprisingly quiet, pushing the eggs around in the pan with eerie precision.
Once Kai and I got Amanda and Sammy out the door, we took a seat on the couch. It was instinctive, not a word was shared, and none continued to be shared, as we sat in a comfortable silence. I looked up at them, watching their head droop low and find sudden fascination with one of their silver rings. I looked back down, too, taking a deep breath. I wanted to offer some profundity here, a moment of thanks and reflection on how surprisingly helpful Kai has been, and how proud I am of them for their growth and relationship that seems to come along with Amanda. I wanted to say so much more than what I had said the night prior— but intellectually speaking, I said so much less.
“Do you want to go through Amanda’s peculiar box with me?”
Kai pushed out a single chuckle, “It is a little weird, right?”
I was uncertain if anything would come of this additional search in Amanda’s history with our client, but I also knew that if we were dealing with a spirit, and a powerful one at that, I needed to be aware of the ties relevant to Charlie’s apparent strong emotions— and perhaps figure out how to tether her if needed be.
I sat back beside Kai, placing the box between us. Picking up the obituary clipping, I stared at the photo, lost in a shiny façade of those bright white eyes. They seemed so happy. With a soft smile on my face, I glanced down at the article— finally giving it a proper read to see if I could find any information on their burial site— but Aurelia, I found something else— or rather, couldn’t find something.
“Didn’t Amanda say that Charlie’s been living with the sister…?”
“Yeah, Martha,” Kai finished, tucking their legs deeper into the couch.
With a hard swallow, I silently slid Kai the obituary clip, pointing to the following paragraph, I have filed it for you too, Aurelia:
“Where art thou, Martha?” Kai gasped.
I hastily returned to my room, telling Kai I needed to put the box away. Instead, I reach beneath my bed for a journal— bound with frayed and cracked leather. You know this journal well, dear Aurelia, the only journal, the only thing I took with me on my journey to this plane. It is nothing special to the naked eye, a bunch of numbers and fragments of words— but to me, it is a perfectly organized index of all the hundreds of thousands of journals I have completed. I flipped through the book hastily until I found it, my experience with the demon extractor. Here, it merely read 872DEX, but it surged something more powerful through my brain— an excerpt from a journal that currently sits on a bookshelf in Hell:
Today, I met with Lilith—the devourer of souls. She demonstrated how her extraction works: she simply sits on her throne, waiting for certain words to ring in her ear. Once they do, she is able to raise her arms from the stiff golden supports of her elevated chair. The spirit slithers down like a snake, dancing across her arms for a few moments before she takes a deep breath and consumes the spirit. She smiled at me—her teeth and eyes covered in blood, or perhaps something like it— a much deeper shade them I know blood to be.
A dreadful feeling told me this was not a simple spirit possession. Something, like one of Lilith’s snakes, hissed in my ear— this case tasted of demons, of my past. From this memory, I was able to recall the exact words I needed to say in case my hunch found itself true— though I shall not recite them here, in fear of you, my dear Aurelia, ever reading such cruel words. Shutting the journal, I tucked it back under my bed, stuffed within Sammy’s box of clothing.
______
The walk to Martha’s wouldn’t have been so troublesome if not for Kai’s complaints about how troublesome it was. The Millers’ house was closer to the edge of town, where the neighborhoods shifted from apartments to duplexes like ours to traditional homes with a single roof for one family. When I pressed my thumb on the doorbell, I wondered how two young girls could ever need so much space— but then I wondered if two girls even shared this space at all.
With no immediate answer, I tried once more, peering my head through the slightly parted curtain. It was then I saw Kai, in the window’s reflection, walking carefully down the steps, taking on a full sprint as I turned around to look at them. Watching in horror as they jumped the white fence on the right side of the house, I called after them frantically, informing them that this was trespassing. To no effect, I heard them crash onto the backyard tile as I suppressed a slight grin— silently thanking whatever good karma granted there to be no soft grass for their landing.
“Hey, check this out,” Kai said, pointing at the rose bush they landed on. Within the dirt was a small wooden sign they read aloud, “‘Martha’s’, didn’t know she gardened.”
Leaning my head over the fence, I said as seriously as possible, and as quietly as possible (though my anger certainly gave my voice some intensity) that we should not be breaking into this house. Kai responded by telling me to try the front door again and then running away from me. Not wanting to be an accomplice to Kai’s illegal shenanigans, I did just that, climbing back up the stairs and trying the bell once more. I felt a sensation of pride as I saw the door pop open upon my harmonic request— only for my face to fall upon noticing Kai at the door.
“It’s not breaking in,” they said with a coy smirk, “You merely were invited in by the person at the door. Like a vampire dude! You love vampire stuff.”
“That is not how that works, Kai. It has to be the owner of the home,” But with no better option, I brushed past them, scoffing as loudly as I could to signal to them how ridiculous this plan was.
Whilst I walked through the downstairs level of the house, Kai continued to remind me how I was a ‘bad boy.’ Regarding the downstairs, it was uncannily pristine, colored in bright shades of blue and white. There was little proof of this being a lived-in home— with no photographs nor even magnets on the fridge. The only thing that suggested someone even lived here was the coffee mug that still sat on the counter— the lip and sides of the cup stained with drips of missed coffee. Finding little evidence of anything askew and finding even less patience with Kai, I ventured up the stairs.
With no windows to let in early morning light, a blanket of darkness lingered as I moved down the hall. I tried the first door and discovered a small bathroom, a sink still wet with condensation, and a mirror reflecting a slightly fogged view of my face. The next door revealed a small closet filled with tightly folded towels and toiletries stored in small pouches hanging from hooks over the door. I noticed that the tops of the shampoo bottles were dusty. Turning a sharp corner, I saw three more rooms—one on the left wall, one on the right, and one on the far wall.
I took the far door first, opening it carefully. Inside was a master bedroom—a giant bed that covered most of the space, two wooden nightstands painted a crisp white with stained-glass lamps on top, and a large wooden dresser with gold handles sitting next to a spacious walk-in closet. I also noticed a layer of dust covering the furniture, which contradicted the pristine placement of everything in the room— down to the perfectly made bed.
A chill coursed down my body as I felt a light wind rush in my ear. Jumping in astonishment, and wielding my fists at the ready, I settled as I noticed it was merely Kai, blowing a small stream of air through their pursed lips.
“What were you going to do? Hit me? I thought the pen was mightier than the sword, Scribe boy,” they said, sucking on their teeth.
When I politely informed Kai that is not what the expression means at all, they informed me that I better hurry up doing my investigation work because they thought they ‘might have accidentally sort of kind of set off an alarm that won’t stop beeping even if you punch it really hard, which coincidentally only makes it beep louder.’
“Kai.” I seethed, brushing myself past them. I hurriedly pulled open the door on the left wall— another bedroom in immaculate shape, made almost exactly the same as the master, bar the twin bed rather than the large queen. Having no time to repeat actions, I hoped for anything visually different in the room off to the right wall.
My luck seemed to have not yet ceased, as I came upon a perfectly messy teenage girl’s room. I called for Kai’s assistance as I quickly surveyed the room. It has bright pink walls detailed by a plastered amalgamation of what seemed to be every moment of her life— from postcards to shopping receipts. In the far corner of the room, sat a stack of picture frames, which I found flooded from a bin of photographs and frames leaning beside the closet. But before I could even flip on the light switch, let alone pick up a photograph, I was startled by the sound of the door slamming closed behind me.
“Kai,” I dragged in a heated whisper, assuming this was another one of their games. But my antagonism quickly subsided by the sound of a young girl’s voice— clearly angrier at Kai’s presence.
“Kai? What the Hell are you doing here? Did Mandy send you?”
With my heart in my stomach, I looked underneath the door, where I saw two sets of feet— Kai’s black boots, and sensible purple heels.
“Charlotte,” Kai said (a little louder than necessary, but I suppose they were trying to warn me. Obviously, Aurelia, I knew who it was), “Martha invited me over.”
I did not bother hearing Charlie’s reply. Taking action, I bent my hand over the dresser drawer that had been left open, my hand sinking into poorly folded piles of jeans. With a slight delay due to my finger’s encounter with an earring tossed loosely into the denim heap, I was able to stand up, my lips bit in a vow— a need for silence. Slowly making my way to the corner of the room, dancing around bits of broken glass and a strange pink liquid that made the floor tacky in a practically uncharitable way, I was finally able to dig through the bin of photos— or perhaps the remains of photos. Torn apart were images of an older couple whom I recognized to be Paul and Emma Miller. Some appeared freshly ripped, as if I could easily slide the persons back together to recreate the photograph. Others were long gone— Emmas’ in the snow that sat beside Pauls’ in the desert. I also saw pieces of Charlie’s, fragments of her eyes and chin, torn beyond any otherwise recognition, or hope of reassembling. But there was someone else mixed in here too, an image of a girl who looked just like Charlie… but with light eyes.
I picked up one of the picture frames, my hand pressing into the glass as I noticed the images poorly plastered and taped together. Where desert Paul’s met snowy Emma’s, there was also the other Charlie— her light eyes staring at me and her smile curved in such glee it sent chills down my spine. Intrigued, I reached for another frame, but I must have pulled an essential pillar. That single motion ricocheted like a wave in rocky waters. The entire tower of wood and glass fell in a horrific landslide.
Silence bandaged the room for just a moment as I released a battered breath, but the wound was too much, as all around a ravenous blood of volume rang in the room— and it began with Charlie slamming the bedroom door open.
Kai sat at her purple-clothed feet, gargling as they clenched their shaking hands around their throat.
“Another?” Charlie cried; her voice distorted in an unnaturally low pitch. As she tried to collect her wasted breath, her eyes flickered from their natural brown hue to a bright shade of white. I noticed now the two spirits that hovered beside her, pale, hazy figures, but Charlie’s parents certainly. Wanting a moment of privacy with our young victim, I pulled my carved stick of iron from my inner pocket, tossing one through Paul on her right, and watching as Charlie whipped her head around, clutching her ears. I had also perfectly tossed the stick to Kai, who, even in their injured state, managed to sloppily stick the stick through Emma. It landed back perfectly at my feet. I quickly pressed it back in my pocket, watching the brown eyed girl’s eyes flicker from light to dark.
“Hello, Martha,” I said, as calmly as possible, gently exposing my empty arms before pushing myself up to stand, “I’m glad we can have a moment alone.”
Here, Aurelia, is where the pieces finally came together. Charlie was communing with the spirits of her parents that day when Amanda walked in and her necklace went a glow, but things were also not as they seemed. Charlie was not trying to summon them; Martha was. Martha was not away at college, but rather buried beneath the soil, the very patch of dirt Kai landed on outside. No lie existed in Amanda’s statement; Martha did own the house upon the parents’ death, but perhaps less in a lawful way, but more in a spiritual way. That pressure, Amanda emphasized, was merely a threat, a literal possession by Martha, which was finally able to take full form and control of Charlie’s mind once two more spirits were able to tug and pull at her weakened mind. She had overslept that day that she called Amanda; she had let herself be vulnerable for far too long in a home controlled by three powerful entities. A young woman so corrupted by her parents’ love, she had become a powerful demon, tethered by two simple spirits. A rattlesnake on a dog leash, forcing Martha to stay inside and Charlie to stay away— trying to rework their legacy one last time, one last kid, through the able, similar body of Charlie, and the obedient, desperate for life, Martha.
“Don’t call me that!” Charlie, or I suppose Martha, seethed. She kicked Kai forward just to step over them and approach me, “I’m Charlotte now. We are fixing her.”
“Why? Don’t you miss it, Martha?” I said, taking a prideful step forward. Despite Kai using vulgar language between their painful groans to inform me I needed to be quiet, I continued to advance, breathing as deeply as I could, “You were your parents’ pride and joy. But then you died. They didn’t even grieve you; they merely replaced you. For what? Their image? Well, I see you for who you are, Martha, not who your parents are forcing you to be.”
Martha’s breath began to waver, “It has been so long,” she said, a smile slipping onto her otherwise furrowed face. Her bright eyes darkened until they returned to their warm brown. I saw for a moment, the dark demon of Martha as a shadow to a wavering Charlie. As we breathed together, a sense of relief washed over me, as if I had managed to re-bandage this mess.
Until I stepped on a piece of glass.
The sound vibrated the room, shaking Martha’s eyes back to their bright white light. The spirits returned to Martha’s sides, whispering back in each of her reddened ears. The rush of fear extended to her eyes, creating a powerful blast of bright light that knocked me on my back— my body conveniently landing on each pointed part of each piece of glass. The room began to convulse, resulting in a feeling of being buried alive— and making it very difficult to breathe.
My breath slithered from my aching throat, a pain I can only describe as numb seared through me. As I closed my eyes in acceptance, a loud thump rattled my body as I watched Charlie’s eyes widen, falling back into their calm shade of brown before her whole body collapsed to the floor.
Amanda. Standing over an unconscious Charlie, with a worn baseball bat crammed uncomfortably in her hands. Realizing what she had done, Amanda dropped to her knees, playing with Charlie’s hair, which had fallen to her face. Kai raced in after me, helping me stand as the adrenaline faded from my body, the cuts beginning to sting, and my vision beginning to go dizzy. Taking a heavy breath, I tried to breathe my mission back into myself. Frantically rummaging through my brain, I found the words l needed to say. The spirits still hovered above Martha, and with the iron back in my pocket, I made a pass to push them away again, but they were quicker this time, pushing me back to the ground before I even got a proper step. I knew then Martha would have to go first. Holding my hand to my chest, I began to recite the spell for extraction.
The words took immediate effect, as Charlie’s body began to convulse— her head pouring with sweat, but her body cold to the touch. I watched her eyes flicker back and forth in the shade, her mouth dripping with blood and saliva before unhinging entirely, her wide mouth spitting out that darkened entity. Although she spoke in nothing but feverish roars, I swore I heard her thank me, as she gripped her parents tightly in her darkened embrace, pushing all three of them deep within the earth. Lilith would be pleased with the quantity of her meal today.
I whispered my prayer to you, Aurelia, then said a silent prayer to Martha.
As Charlie’s face began to resemble a human teenage girl once more, she sputtered a ‘thank you’ before closing her eyes. Overwhelmed by a sense of exhaustion, I did the same, falling back onto her dresser and those blasted jeans.
I felt Kai help me up, but I dared not open my eyes as they wrapped their arm around me and guided me downstairs. They sat me on the couch, then, racing off, a few moments later, they brought Charlie to my side.
“She’ll be out for a while,” I mumbled, “When she wakes, I’m sure she’ll have a lot to say, but for now I’m ready to go home.”
“I think I’ll just stay here,” Amanda said quietly, smoothing out the wrinkles on Charlie’s pants, before climbing up onto the couch to sit beside her. She placed Charlie’s head in her hands.
Kai smiled, sitting on the arm of the chair, then lifted their hand toward the direction of my head.
I pushed it away, “Don’t even think about it.” Quietly showing ourselves out, I walked in silence with Kai, laughing lightly to myself.
“So, case closed?” I asked, kicking a rock down the sidewalk, “Go team?”
“Case closed, go team!”
