Percy watched the shadow silently grow to encompass the room. Its silhouette stretched across the ribbed columns of the roof, arms spreading along the walls.
"That's… very not good," he muttered. He didn't start casting, casting would tank his focus, but he knew spirits couldn't be affected by physical attacks anyway.
What kind of spirit was this? It wasn't a normal Dark spirit, It was fully manifested without being summoned by a Spiritmancer.
But it didn't feel like an Evil spirit either. Evil spirits distorted the world around them, sent waves of nausea and dread through the body. This one only loomed.
So, he decided to ask.
"Uhm… What are you, great spirit? Did you kill Jones? Were you trapped here by the Basker family?"
The moment he mentioned the Baskers, it went berserk. Thin shadowy hands whipped through the air, sending piles of junk flying across the attic. Percy ducked, shielding his head.
CRASH!
