Nightmares Vs Magic

Autumn was settling in, gourds and pumpkins were everywhere, and Dove and her team were currently unable to see any of it. 

Why? Because they were all currently trapped inside another haunted house, looking for the source of the ghosts before they can get out. 

October was one of the few months where work for Macabre House is busiest. The other months where they would typically be swamped are February, April, and sometimes July or most of the summer months but Laurence told me that it varied every year. 

He said that there are a lot of dummies who do crazy things for love or vengeance on Valentine's Day, and we have to help fix it. 

Anyway, this current case wasn't about a dumb choice someone made, but rather another real estate agent who needs to sell a house, and unfortunately, the house is haunted. Laurence has been busy screening and doing virtual inspections on the houses that the agents would email to him, and most of the time, they're just old and resting. 

But this and a few were genuinely haunted. Even Malachite had to come with us to help with ghost exorcisms. 

Malachite is the new name that our new necromancer friend, formerly named Green, chose. As of the time of writing this however, I would soon learn that it was still a filler name.

Joon kept drawing new alchemical symbols for the element of wood on the door, walls, floor, and ceiling if someone helped him, to keep it reinforced so that no ghostly hands broke in inside the one room of the house where they were temporarily safe. Vernon was fighting back against the moss that kept growing over the open windows, trying to seal them in completely and reach for them. 

Annabelle and Malachite weren't barred in the room with them, they were running throughout the halls, receiving directions from Dove through Annabelle's phone. Dove sat in the middle of the room, holding a large floorplan of the house that Laurence hand-drew for them.

He had to, because there was a certain room they needed to find, and for some reason it kept changing. The agent told him about it, and he marked all the spots that the basement door has appeared throughout the house.

"Ok, now if you see a door on the left, go there and that's where the basement is predicted to appear" She said to her phone as she read the floorplan like a map. 

"You know, it's funny how in most cases, the basement is seriously easy to find! This is like the one time a basement doesn't want to be found- oh, yes. Yes! Malachite, I know! I'm focusing!" Annabelle's voice could be heard loud and clear. 

Dove had the call put on speaker.

Outside the barred room, there were heads of flesh with only their spines attached, rolling and chin-crawling across the floor, hunting them down like snakes that had no flesh on the spines, only the heads, but even the heads have some layers of flesh missing. Some examples were the nose, ears, and eyes, which were eternally bleeding and trekking blood as they crawled. The walls were bleeding and spelling out words of warning, and there was this constant crying sound. 

Through the halls, Annabelle and Malachite were running, dodging hands that would break out from between planks and holes in the wall. 

"I wonder why this house of all places, doesn't want us going near the basement!" Annabelle pondered in a cheerful tone as they ran for their lives. 

Malachite shrugged. They were too focused on practicing a new quirk about their magic, which was causing items to either wither and rot, or suddenly rejuvenate and become good as new temporarily, but only if they touched or were in proximity of it. It was very inconvenient when running across the halls and causing the second floor to wither, risking them falling. 

At the moment, they kept causing things that touched them, to rot. Not friends, for Annabelle was able to grab Malachite's shoulders and yank them into the room on the left side of the corridor, just as Dove instructed. 

She slammed the door shut behind them. 

Malachite checked around the room, looking for a basement door. They signed to Annabelle, trying to remember which hand signs meant what, before giving up and miming their own signs.

They faced Annabelle, formed a square with their hands, turned their head side to side to look around the room, then looked back at her and shook their head. 

The mute intern was still learning sign language, but they don't have a good memory.

"Malachite says that this room doesn't have the basement door either. This might be taking too long; can I just break the walls and floors?" She said into her phone.

"NO! You can't!" Dove shouted back from her end.

"Unlike the farmhouse, this property needs to stay intact so that the real estate agent can sell it. Do not break anything unless you seriously have to!"

"Right..." Annabelle said while looking around. "And what exactly qualifies as-"

"If both your and Malachite's lives are threatened, and by threatened, I mean you guys just got seriously injured by pure accident despite trying your ABSOLUTE darndest to stay safe, and you are completely out of options but to cause property damage for the sake of saving yourselves."

"Ah." Annabelle answered back, her smile a bit smaller and her eyes giving a blank stare. 

"Genies would hate you."

"Cry me a river after this house has been exorcized." 

Outside the house, Laurence and Bence stood at the front of the house. They were there both as backup and to observe how well the interns were doing. October was not only a busy month, but also the month that has the more difficult requests and cases. 

Since the house was still in the vicinity of the city, Laurence was able to go on this field case, especially since Bence would also be working there. He became more worried for Dove ever since reading the report about the serial killer nightmare, designed to kill humans with ease. The monster managed to hurt Enzo and Annabelle, two experienced combatants, so who knows what would've happened if they weren't there for the Rangeley case.

"Do you think they're okay in there? I can hear some sort of constant wailing." Laurence asked, standing anxiously with crossed arms. 

The house had a gate and fence around the place, and they were leaning against the fence as they waited. Bence read an old book as he waited. 

"The wailing isn't coming from any of them, at least I'm pretty sure." Bence answered simply. 

"And if any of them were screaming, it wouldn't be constant because they need air, and it wouldn't be so high-pitched, no matter how much Annabelle was trying to impersonate her distant banshee relative."

Laurence kept his hands tucked as he kept his arms crossed. He tried not to drink as much coffee today, but he could still feel the caffeine in his system. 

"Quick question."

Bence hummed in response.

"Did you hide my coffee mugs again?"

"If you need a cup to drink, we have paper cups in the upper cabinet of the breakroom."

"You know I wasn't asking about those." Laurence nearly leered at him. 

"I just brought a new mug and then I couldn't find it, again. I can't keep using paper cups for coffee. They're too flimsy so I can't refill them, and I end up having multiple paper cups on my desk." 

"Well, you need to know how many cups you're drinking, and in this way, Dove can't drink her usual scalding hot coffee, lest she wishes to burn the cup. So, it's both for your own good and hers."

Laurence was silent for a bit, then turned to Bence with a realization. 

"Did you hide Dove's coffee mug as well?"

"Look, it's either this or I make sure everyone suffers by taking away the coffee and replacing it with chocolate milk and energy drinks!" Bence replied as he snapped his book shut. 

Laurence was about to argue back with him again before they both heard a loud crash, both their eyes widened, and they slowly turned their heads to look at the house. 

There were more crashes and banging noise coming from the property, then murmurs of multiple voices. They got louder, and so did the wailing noise, only now it sounded more like that of a baby with colic. 

The muffled voices that sounded like the group was having a frantic argument, got louder until the door burst open, and five exhausted interns with panicked eyes walked out. Malachite was behind Dove, holding what looked like a wailing, crying baby, but its skin was pale, eye sockets empty, and nails were sharp. 

Malachite had no clue how to hold a baby, much less a very loud, dead-but-alive, possible ghost baby that had nails, so they were holding it with two hands, as far from their face as they could. 

The baby was throwing its tiny claws around, crying loudly despite not having any tears, a side effect of not having eyes, and it nearly completely shredded the clothes they wrapped around it. 

That was both to try and swaddle the baby in the hopes that would calm it, and if not, the claws would've at least been covered, but that didn't work. Which was too bad. I really liked that blazer. Oh well.

Bence had wide eyes, but still remained calm as he rushed over, holding his hands out so that Malachite could pass the undead baby to him. 

"Are you sure? This baby might end up ruining your clothes too." Joon said. 

Bence was unbothered, and he still reached out for the baby. In a panic and trusting Bence more than themselves, Malachite passed the scary infant to him without hesitation. 

As soon as the baby was cradled in his big, warm hands, it stopped thrashing. 

The man carefully and swiftly cradled the infant in his arms, like instinct, and shushed it gently. That's when the baby's cries began to quiet down more. The interns circled around him, they of course still gave him room, but it was still a surprise to see a nightmare baby calm down so easily in his arms. 

Dove stood off to the side, watching the scene, just as in awe but still keeping a distance. Laurence walked over to stand beside her. 

"I'm guessing, you found that Myling in the basement?" He asked. 

"May I ask what a Myling is?"

"It's typically the spirit of a baby or a young toddler, one that died and was never given a proper burial or name." Bence answered, beginning to walk in a small circle as he gently rocked the now quiet baby in his arms. 

It wasn't actually quiet, the baby was still sobbing quietly and Bence could tell, despite it not having any eyes or tear ducts. The head practically looked like a skull, due to the paleness and from how thin the skin was. This was also an indication that the baby starved and suffocated to death. 

"Mylings originated from Scandinavian folklore, and the name used to specifically refer to the spirits of dead infants that were never baptized, but in other stories, the name refers to any infant that was killed or died young, now forced to roam the earth until they can convince someone to give them a proper burial." He explained further, carefully moving the baby to rest its head on his shoulder as he patted their back. 

The claws didn't even phase him. They scratched at his blazer and made a couple holes here and there, but he didn't mind that, only continued to console it. 

"Shh, shh. You must've been so afraid." He whispered to it gently. 

"If it wanted to convince someone to bury it, they were doing a pretty bad job, but what else should I have expected from a baby." Joon said, hands on his hips. 

He was still trying to mentally recover from all the blood on the walls and the crawling heads. 

"So, did you figure out the story behind the baby's situation and the haunting?" Laurence asked Dove as he began to consider taking off his jacket and giving it to her. 

He noticed that her blazer wasn't on her but wrapped around the Myling instead. Though, he could also see that it was torn to shreds. 

"The baby was born in the basement. I could tell because Annabelle reported that there was a bed in the basement with a spot of dried-up blood, likely where the mother gave birth, and then a chest with a lock where the crying sound was coming from." She said blankly, holding her phone to show him a picture of the chest. 

"After Joon, Vernon, and I managed to reach the basement too, I realized that she heard the wailing underneath the floorboards, and that's how she found the chest. Joon picked the lock and that's how we found the baby. I don't know what year the baby was born in but based on the clothes it used to have- or more that shredded pieces of cloth that used to be its clothes, the baby is from the early 1900s." She rested her hands on her hips, mainly to keep from slouching, then pointed behind her to the house. 

"As for the other ghosts, the baby wasn't the one causing all the ruckus, you know how you told me that a family from the 1910s all died in that house?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the house is actually being haunted by the ghosts of the baby's relatives, who were preventing us from getting to the basement, so that we don't learn their scandalous secret. I have no idea what situation the mother had, but basically, they left the baby to die after locking it in the chest and then locking the basement door."

Laurence let out a low whistle, comprehending it all.

"Whelp, the things people will do for reputation."

He then patted her back as he took out his gun, put in a magazine filled with ghost bullets, and loaded the chamber. 

"That explains the reason the entire family died in the house. Vengeance. Alright! We were gonna exorcize the ghosts, but you know what? I'll just shoot all of them and they'll be gone." He said as he pointed his gun first at the open window of the house. 

He shot down a ghost peeking through the window, and it shrieked from a distance. 

Bence walked over with the now sleeping undead infant. It was clinging to his collar and looked less like the goblin nightmare from before, but a baby that in immeasurable pain before. Malachite was beside him, holding the book that Bence dropped earlier to pick up the infant. They were now sifting through a bag. 

"You clear the house of the dead relatives; I'm going to teach Malachite how to do their first burial." Bence told him before turning to their intern.

"Malachite." He gently called out.

The kid didn't respond, they heard but they didn't respond, still searching their bag for something. Bence called out again and they looked up. 

"So that name isn't sticking either, is it?"

Malachite sheepishly looked down and nodded. Choosing a new name that fit was harder than expected. 

"That's alright. Just get me my notebook from the bag, and we can begin.

They nodded. 

Laurence went first, and multiple gunshots were heard inside the house. They waited outside, Malachite found the notebook Bence wanted, and he asked them to flip it open to the latest page that he wrote in. 

Malachite discovered there were at least dozens of names in his notebook. This Myling encounter was not his first, and it certainly wouldn't be his last.

Laurence eventually finished his cleanup, Bence and Malachite went in next and made a proper funeral for the Myling.

The older necromancer named the infant 'Lowell', and the younger necromancer made a grave for it out of the materials from the bag. This case taught them that being a mortician and funeral planner was something that naturally came with being a necromancer, or at least a polite necromancer as Bence put it.

Back at Macabre House, Dove didn't bother sitting, knowing there was another case that needed to be worked on. 

So far, ever since October began, she and her team have had to help exorcize multiple haunted houses, search and destroy haunted or cursed items, and break into abandoned buildings to stop dumb teenagers from making deadly mistakes. 

Dove at one point helped a teenager to wake up from his overdose coma, but when Joon asked how she knew what to do, she refused to elaborate. 

Now, she was standing by Laurence's desk, waiting for the next case. He didn't bother sitting either, having planned to go back to the conference room, which he took over as his messy, study room. He knew she was waiting for her next assignment but wanted her to take a break. 

"You should rest." He said.

"So should you, but you're not, so it doesn't feel right for me to rest if you're not going to." She fired back. 

He let out a deep sigh, setting his paper cup down on his desk. 

"Alright. We'll both take a minute then! Happy?" 

"I don't know how to answer that. I mean, if I'm resting with you, then yeah." She shrugged. 

He gave her a blank, tired stare, really wishing he could pour himself another cup of coffee, but he already had eight and he promised her he wouldn't drink as much. 

Laurence began making way to the breakroom, beckoning her to follow with his hand. 

"If I heat up the chocolate milk in the microwave, I can trick our brains into thinking it's coffee." He said, mostly to himself. 

After a quick drink and typing up the latest report and the previous assignment Laurence and Dove both heard a ding from the elevator doors and turned to see it open but not seeing a person. 

There was an odd, rare, but known client waiting for them, and walked across the carpet, hopping onto the chair in front of Laurence's desk. They both stared blankly at the client as it then hopped onto his desk, a piece of paper in their mouth. 

The new client dropped it onto the desk and meowed. 

"Ghost cat?" Dove questioned. 

"Oh, look. A simple task." Laurence said. 

The ghost cat hissed at him, and he raised his hands in mock surrender, apologizing. 

The frantic sound of footsteps was then heard, very distant at first. Dove could hear it coming from the door leading to the stairs and went over to open it. Malachite appeared, nearly falling through the door frame before Dove caught them. They held onto her shoulders, catching their breath and finding their stability, then angrily pointing at the ghost cat with an annoyed frown. 

"Is something wrong?" She asked. 

Malachite caught their breath and began signing, first pointing to the ghost cat aggressively, then holding out a flat palm with their non-dominant hand, hitting the back with their dominant hand, and then pointing to themself. They did this all while wearing an annoyed, angry expression as they kept catching their breath. 

Apparently, the ghost cat, whom Malachite eventually introduced as being named Roswell, needed someone to help them with a request, but did not elaborate. Malachite met the ghost cat in the archives when practicing their powers with Bence, and claims the cat wanted them to go up the stairs together. 

Roswell shook his head in denial, then lifted a paw and pointed it in the direction of the elevator, meowing. It turns out Malachite misunderstood.

Malachite only recently learned how to communicate with ghosts that could not make themselves visible, but Roswell was different since they were an animal ghost. Bence had taught them earlier about sensing for a frequency or feeling in the atmosphere what all spirits of animals tend to give off, but they only learned very recently. And so, their translating still needed work. 

Dove hummed, holding back a chuckle. She helped to do the paperwork for 'Roswell the ghost cat', which is exactly what she wrote on the paper when putting the name of the client. When asking Roswell to elaborate his request, Malachite signed that he just wants someone to follow him to a downtown area, and to have a weapon. 

She asked for more info, but the cat refused to say more, being silent. She tried to read his body language, but he sincerely just sat up and still, tail laid at his side and unmoving. 

"Well then." Laurence began, unlocking the flat most middle drawer in his desk, revealing a collection of magazines. 

Each one had labels of the types of bullets that each magazine was holding. 

"Before we begin, where is Bence?" He asked Malachite as he pondered on which bullets to use.

Dove looked at what Malachite was signing and translated. 

"In the archives, cadaver section. He's searching for skeletons to take apart so that Malachite can practice skeletal restructure. Or, skeleton puzzles, as Malachite puts it."

"Yep, sounds about right. He had to practice that too once. You gotta know how to assemble a body first before bringing it back from the dead. And he gave you permission to go out on the assignment with Roswell?" 

Malachite nodded. 

Laurence, instead of picking just one, he opted for two different types. The ghost bullets, and the normal bullets, packing the normal bullets in a pocket inside his jacket, and loading the ghost bullets into his current gun before putting that in his holster. 

"Ghosts of animals may also have requests that need fulfilling before they can pass on, and sometimes that involves killing the person who bludgeoned an innocent animal to death. We'll also be going up to the rooftop garden first."

"Why is that? I thought he couldn't communicate with animals?"

"He can't, not unless it's with a potential familiar candidate."

Vernon is a witch, but he still has no familiar. His powers are strong and he already thriving as is, peacefully, serenely, but he could do a lot more with the help of a familiar, a rite of passage for every witch. It's like, when a teenager gets a license and moves out, fully becoming independent, a witch finding their familiar goes on the path to reaching higher potential.

They went and got Vernon, who actually wasn't at the rooftop garden, he was also in the archives. Malachite just forgot to mention it. 

The boy was showing a new fungus to Bence that he recently learned to control, but it could only grow in places such as graveyards or areas where corpses resided, so he was in the cadaver section.

After retrieving him and telling him about the assignment, he agreed, excited to go see some stray cats. 

They took vials of belladonna sprays with them as a cautionary measure and headed up. Roswell was impatiently waiting for them as he waited in the magic store, entertaining the guests and ignoring Lucia's laments about eating him. 

"As always, your hunger is insatiable, just go call Jean or Dimitri. They've just located some new catches if you ever want in." Laurence whispered to her as he and the group passed by, now ready to head out. 

He trusted Lucia, somewhat, because he knows Leon and Liora have her holding back for the sake of her humanity. But he still made sure to be between her and the interns when passing through. Lucia didn't take it as an insult, not at all. 

They headed to the downtown area, not sure where to look as Roswell kept giving vague directions as he laid in Vernon's lap. Dove sat in the front passenger seat, helping Laurence keep a look out. Malachite was giving the cat an annoyed expression the entire time, not only having a hard time translating, since they were still practicing, but also because Roswell was being difficult. 

It wasn't until he started meowing as they stopped at this warehouse place, occupied by lots of people. There was a large door where people were seen going in and out, moving boxes on carts and such. 

"Hmm, I can try asking around but we can't do a thorough search, unless Roswell is willing to give more details?" He said, reaching up to adjust the angle of his rearview mirror so that he could see the passengers in the back seat. 

Malachite looked to the ghost cat, hoping for some answers, but then shook their head as the cat just ignored them, falling asleep in Vernon's lap. 

"I can summon some plants that'll make people fall asleep. Or just numb them to the point they can't move, and then we can do an investigation without interruption or issue." Vernon offered out of the blue. 

Laurence paused, considered it, and then shook his head. He parked his car and asked the interns to stay by the car while he went around and asked some questions, Dove insisted on going with him, trusting Vernon and Malachite to be able to get Roswell to answer their questions. 

That, and she felt a strange feeling in her gut. 

The warehouse was used for a shipping company, storing boxes that would soon be delivered elsewhere. Laurance and Dove agreed on the cover of asking around for a missing cat, using Roswell's physical description as a reference. They asked the workers, acting like people in the area who were just looking for a cat for their friend, since they had no physical photos to use as reference. 

As luck would have it, the workers told them that there was actually a lot of stray cats that roamed around the vicinity. The workers who wore overalls and the typical safety hats and work boots, all told them of the areas where large numbers of cats were seen and to check those spots. 

When Dove politely asked which company owned the building, asking multiple workers to pass the time as Laurence asked around about a that looks like Roswell, most of the workers there just shrugged. Others have said that they don't know who owns the building and their boss wasn't clear about it, just that their small company rented it for cheap to use. 

They left soon after, glancing at the boxes and workers who waved goodbye and wished them luck on finding their cat.

"Spots where random cats were seen, doesn't feel like a solid clue for anything, but maybe if we go back, Vernon and Malachite will have gotten Roswell to finally say more." Laurence said as he looked at the list of clues he wrote down in the note's app of his phone.

Dove hummed as she walked beside him, looking around the area as they went back to the car. 

Vernon used his flowerpot to grow some catnip, hoping that would coax Roswell into talking, and Malachite did their best to translate, opting to use a notepad they now frequently carried around. The only things they could pick up from Roswell were words such as- 

'nest', 'suffering', 'pain', 'monsters', 'needles', 'masks', and 'underneath'.

Laurence hummed after reading the only notes, then looked over his shoulder to where he could see the warehouse just from the corner of his eye. 

They parked a block away from the building, enough to avoid any possible trucks that may show up. 

"Dove, you didn't see any brands or logos on the workers or packages either, right?"

"I didn't, and the place looked awfully rusty."

"It's not inherently illegal to use a rusty warehouse as a storage facility, but it does pose a risk for money penalties if they violate safety regulations. If the said company is small, they can't risk that." 

He asked Vernon if the boy could sense anything underground, specifically under the warehouse. He could, but it was difficult to tell, not because of all the concrete but because many old buildings downtown had basements. 

Laurence crouched down to tell Roswell that his request will have to wait until nighttime, but that they would complete it. 

For now, they headed back to Macabre House, and the cat stayed with Malachite and Bence. 

Roswell's case was postponed for until it got dark. In the meantime, there were many other requests that were labeled urgent. 

Laurence emailed the requests and their files to the clerk on the gym floor, so that Ursa could assign most of them to Jalal and Malicka. 

"If the twins go out on field cases, won't that leave Annabelle to help with some of the classes?" Dove asked cautiously as he stood by his desk, looking at his monitor. 

"I get your concern, but Ursa did once tell me that she likes how unpredictable Annabelle can be, and that some of the students need to learn more about how to deal with crazy people. It sounds scary, but it'll do some good if more people learn how to expect the unexpected before Halloween comes. We don't have much of a choice either way, we're swamped with cases and requests, and the twins have more experience. They'll be fast."

"May I go with them? S-so that I can learn how to do finish cases faster. It took my team and I two hours to deal with the haunted house one."

Laurence looked up at her and considered. On the one hand, he didn't want her to become extremely tired by the time they finally are able to get back to the ghost cat's request, but on the other, he had a bad feeling about Roswell's case. 

"Yeah! Of course you can! Just make sure to bring your baton and trust the twins. They may seem unhinged or their methods unconventional, but they work fast for a reason." 

She nodded her head, went to her desk to take her baton out of the locked drawer, hid the key back in its hiding spot, and headed for the gym floor.

As it turns out, Jalal and Malicka were actually excited to finally work with her, which is what made dove begin to regret. Annabelle pouted when Ursa made it clear that she wasn't going to be assigned any field cases for the day, waving good luck to her coworkers as they got prepped and ready to leave.

"No need to be upset. You'll be filling in for the twins while they're gone, you need the teaching experience." Ursa said as she brushed past Annabelle, holding out a thin stack of papers, stapled together. 

Each paper had information for the scheduled classes of the day, and an excel spreadsheet, showing the lessons that would be taught that day. Annabelle took the packet and read the sheet, noticing that the class that would be starting in half an hour had a 'Halloween special' typed in the lesson box.

"These students have been spoiled for too long with organized rules and such. Go to where the class is being held, show them what real fights are like during Halloween in the bad parts of town." Ursa said to the girl, and then walked off with a smile, knowing the seeds of chaos she just planted. 

Annabelle skipped away with a gleeful expression on her face. 

One of the other workers of the gym saw what Ursa had done and approached her with concern. 

"Won't Dr. Leon be upset if he starts receiving too many patients from the gym floor?" He asked, nervously fiddling with his lanyard. 

Ursa tilted her head to him; hands held behind her back as she kept a blank, serene expression. 

"I sent her to the class of men who wanted to learn martial arts for bragging rights and to intimidate women. Many of our customers had been complaining about their attitudes and behaviors, I'm just making sure our business keeps a good reputation."

The clerk nodded, still nervously fiddling with his lanyard as he thought about what Annabelle was capable of. 

"Did you at least make sure they all signed a waiver."

"Obviously. Since when have I ever done anything that didn't benefit me?" 

"Never. I'm just glad that whatever has always benefited, you, also benefited us too." He replied in a small, timid tone.