Update
For today's writing, I decided to expand on a scene that, in the original short, was just glossed over in a few sentences.
Current Word Count: 3,026
Scene of the Day
I really hate bridges.
That was a repeating mantra in my mind as I stalked down
Ponte Street, heading for the bridge at the end.
In my line of work, giant, indefensible choke points
were never a good thing, but today was especially unfortunate.
Rain poured down in heavy sheets, adding to the already
massive, raging Miskatonic River as it swept along the chasm at my side.
The only spot in all of Arkham where the water was
almost close enough to touch was on the large dirt mound hanging directly
beneath the bridge, making it a perfect place for creatures of all sorts to
stir mischief.
A tongue of lightning arced through the sky,
illuminating a bulky, towering shadow standing dead center on the mass of stone
and steel.
If my luck was as bad as I expected, that would be the
angry ghost that practically lived under the bridge, known to drag naive
joggers to a slow, watery death.
The night that Johan had vanished, much like that very
day, there had been a torrential downpour, which was the only time the wraith
was known to come up top and enjoy the topside.
After three different informants from different parts of
the city pointed me in the Avalon’s direction, I’d resigned myself to having to
deal with a very unpleasant specter.
The fact that informants both human and not had told me
the same things didn’t bode well for my clients’ kid.
The wraith became ever darker inside with every step
closer I got to the bridge.
My entire body tightened in anticipation and my hands started
giving off a slight green glow.
The air warmed in an instant, and a flowery scent rose
with the ensuing steam.
With a hiss, I reined it in, pulling the magic back into
the very thin skin keeping me from being drenched to the bones.
I’d apparently let the magic out for a bit too long,
though, as the figure’s head snapped to attention and followed me for the rest
of my walk.
I especially hate bridges when it’s clearly a trap
waiting to be sprung.
With a sigh, I finally stepped onto the bridge, the
stone humming under my feet as soon as I touched down.
“Yo-you do not bel-long heere, w-witch,” a harsh rasp
snarled.
The screaming wind and plunking rain paled in comparison
to the wraith’s hiss.
I fought a shiver as it seemed to, somehow, make the
already miserable weather even colder.
Hunching further into my duster, I let more of my power
rise to the surface.
Intimidating the pissed off dead was usually a useless
endeavor, but letting it know I wasn’t an easy target couldn’t hurt, either.
“Tell me what I want ta' know, and I’ll leave. No chaos,
no blood, well, in your case, ichor, I s'pose, an' we both go about on our
business.”
The shadows swirled violently around it, revealing a
massive red slit that would pass for its eye.
A strong vibration shot through the stone as it
slithered forward, leaving a trail of thick, black smoke in its wake.
Up close, the wraith was smaller, its intimidating
illusion shed the moment it realized I wasn’t taken in by things that go bump
in the night.
Its face, without its mask of magical smoke, was
horrific.
While not quite as decimated as most poltergeists or its
other spiritual cousins, the wraith’s face was made of charred, cracking grey
skin.
Crusted, black pockmarks littered what was clearly once
a heart-shaped woman’s face.
Where skin was broken away around her jaw, pearly fangs
showed through, stained suspiciously red.
Whoever the wraith had been, she’d apparently died a
painful death, if the jagged bullet holes constantly trickling golden blood
that riddled her body were any indication.
“An-nd what dooo
you w-want to know?”
With a quick movement, I pulled Jonah’s photo free for
the wraith’s frigid stare.
“Chances're pretty good that this human came through 'ere. What do you know?”
She stared at the picture for a moment before I felt her
attention shift back to me.
I felt her move before I saw it.
The air screeched as a misshapen, grey claw whipped at
me.
In hindsight, letting her get that close to me wasn’t
the best strategy I’d ever come up with.
Green light exploded up around my arm, just in time to
meet the punch.
Its skin felt like I’d punched a solid block of ice.
The wild magic flooding my veins was probably the only
thing that kept my arm attached.
As her arm was flung back, the wraith’s face pulled into
a confused snarl.
The expression was possibly just as much from the
overpowering scent of wintergreen as my lack of death.
In the same motion that had knocked her swipe away, I
slammed my own fist right into her chest.
Her flesh gave slightly under the impact with a
sickening crunch.
Essence rushed into existence between us, flooding my
palm with green steam.
“Dóigh sa sí ar pyre!”
The words of power sounded sharp and guttural in the
air, and the feeling traveled through my fingertips.
My vision turned to pure color for a moment, as the
world around us reacted to the ancient magic.
The wraith screamed as a mass of emerald flames wrapped
around her like a snake.
Her body was thrown to the other end of the bridge,
where she came to an abrupt stop against a steel support beam.
Even where I stood, I could hear the horrific sounds
that released as her body wrapped in a u around the steel.
She fell in a limp heap onto the stone, sending spidery
cracks out around her with the crash.
Her shock lasted all of ten seconds, until she flowed
back to a full stand in one boneless slither.
Evidently, she’d had two eyes, and both of them were now
locked in a hateful glare on me.
“Faerrry witch, you willll s-s-suffer,” she snarled.
“So yer not gonna' just tell me, then?” I guessed
with a sigh.
Not that I’d expected different, really.
A loud screech ripped free from her fangs as she lunged
across the bridge, both claws reaching out to grab me.
I let instinct take over, sending myself into a dive and
rolling beneath her.
She hit the other side and immediately spun, readying
herself to kill me before I could get back on my feet.
Luckily, I was faster.
The stone responded to my magic, and a slab shot up to
crash into her stomach.
She was sent careening once more, though she’d seemed to
see it coming this time, and landed on her feet.
I had, fortunately, not planned on it taking her out.
A glass vial appeared in my hand as I spun to face her
as she dove at me.
“Exorcizo te,
reliquiae conditum spiritum mundi benedictio et mittam te in abyssum passus
damnationem!”
The water in the vial turned bright silver, and nearly
painful warmth spreading through my palm.
She tried to stop her momentum as my echoing voice
reached her, but it was already too late.
I turned the vial over, and she ran head-first into the
curtain of DIY holy water.
Thick smoke rose as she screamed, her face getting the
worst of the damage.
Fire rippled across her skin as she writhed on the
bridge, leaving black scars and bright golden blood wherever it touched.
“M-m-m-make it s-s-stop! I’ll tellll you ab-b-bout the
b-boy!”
With a quick flick of my wrist, I let my magic mingle
with the holy fire to make it more directly under my control.
“Tarraingt siar,
lasracha bhfeice.”
The silver fire lifted from her skin, forming a very
thin bubble around her to keep her from dying her second death.
“Tell me, and I let it go. Don’t tell me, ya' fry,
an' I move on. If ya' lie ta' me, I will find
ya' again,” I warned.
She glared up at me, for a second, before fear drew her
eyes back to the roiling flames.
“Mennn in lonnng, b-blue coatsss dr-dragged the boy
acrossss my bridge. Heee wasss ssssnarling and ssssnapping like a commonnn
fannnng onnn a b-bad draught. They threw h-him innn a b-blue van with a-an Eye
of Pr-Providence onnn the sssside. Now c-calllll thesssse wretchhhed flamessss
awayyy!”
With a nod, I let my fingers snap, and the fire pulsed
green.
Only one organization in Arkham used the All-Seeing Eye
as its logo, which meant good things for me finding Johan, and bad things for
Johan.
“Interemo.”
In an instant, the holy fire died, leaving a heavy smell
of incense in its wake.
“Slink back under the bridge, and don’t come back up fer air until I’m offa' this road. I've another three bottles to use if ya' screw
with me.”
Without a word, she rolled onto her stomach and crawled
off the nearby edge of the stone.
There wasn’t a splash, but I had no doubts turning my
back that I’d scared her enough that she wouldn’t tempt fate.
When in doubt, you can always trust entities past their
first death to have the strongest self-preservation instincts…
Translation Notes:
I'm using Google Translate for this, so it's probable that these aren't the best translations possible. These are the rough translations of the foreign languages, though, at least according to Google:
"Dóigh sa sí ar pyre"- Gaelig: "Burn in the faery's pyre"
"Exorcizo te, reliquiae conditum spiritum mundi benedictio et mittam te in abyssum passus damnationem"- Latin: "I exorcise thee, O remnant of agony, and with the Spirit of the World's blessing, I cast you into an abyss of suffering condemnation"
"Tarraingt siar, lasracha bhfeice"- Gaelig: "Pull back, flames of vengeance"
Interemo- Latin: "Extinguish"
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