Chapter 4
SPENCER'S POV
I stood with my arms crossed, my foot tapping impatiently on the marble floor. Three so-called exorcists were patrolling my penthouse, mumbling and jogging in place like people who had run insane.
"Can you guys now tell me what my problem is," I snapped, my patience worn thin, "or use the door?"
One of them stopped and looked at me, his eyes wide and unsettling. "There is no ghost in your house. No spirits." He paused for a dramatic effect that made my skin crawl. "But darkness."
I felt a sliver of cold dread. "What darkness? Where is this darkness?"
"You," he said, without a hint of apology. "Sorry to say this, but your ways are out of boundaries."
I gaped at him. "Get out!" I instructed firmly, my paranoia spiking. "All of you, get out now!"
"Our payment?" the leader, a woman, finally spoke.
Fuming, I stormed to my drawer, pulled out a thick bundle of cash, and threw it at their feet. "Get. Out."
They scrambled for the money and left without another word. I slammed the door shut, turning around to lean against it, trying to steady my racing heart.
I screamed and flinched as I saw her standing just inches away from me, her arms crossed as if she hadn't just taken a decade off my life.
"What?" she asked, utterly nonchalant.
I swallowed hard, my eyes wide open. "They told you there's no ghost or spirit here," I managed to say.
She shrugged. "And the next moment," she said, phasing through the air to sit casually on my bed, "she was sitting on my bed." She bounced lightly. "This feels soft."
I'm never gonna lie on that bed again, I thought to myself, horrified.
"You will have to. It's not my room," she said. I froze. She tilted her head. "I mean, it's not my property. You worked for it."
She could read my thoughts. She was in my head.
"Your maid is coming," she muttered.
Just then, a knock came at the door. I jumped away from it as if it were electrified and slowly went to sit on the very edge of my bed, noting with relief that the ghost lady was gone.
"Good afternoon, sir. Your lunch is ready," Enoch, my butler, said after entering with my permission.
"I heard you. Now go," I replied, my voice strict and trembling.
He bowed and left. "Yum, lunch is ready," I heard right beside my ear.
I gasped, flinching violently to see her now sitting on my dresser. "Just leave me alone, please!" I yelled, my voice shaking.
She shrugged and got up, walking over to the full-length mirror. I sat on the bed, dripping in fear, my teeth chattering. A cold sweat broke out across my skin as I stared at her, my eyes wide open. I still couldn't believe I was seeing a ghost.
She stared at her reflection—or the lack thereof. "Why do you keep following me around?" I managed to stammer.
"I can't believe that a whole Spencer is scared of just a woman," she said, turning sharply towards me.
I flinched back. "I think you are the one following me," she continued, rolling her eyes, "because you can see me."
I found it ridiculous. "Are you kidding me? You are in my apartment, for crying out loud!"
"You are bound to me now, remember?" she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "The kiss."
I gulped, the memory of that night flooding back freshly into my head. The coldness of her lips... The shock... I was so terrified, I felt a warm dampness spread on my pajama pants. I had peed myself.
"Why are you peeing there? Go to your bathroom," she said sarcastically.
"What do you want from me?" I begged, humiliation mixing with my terror. "Anything! I will give you anything!"
She tilted her head. "Well, I don't want anything from you."
Before I could blink, she vanished. Then, I felt icy fingers touch my shoulders. Someone was hovering behind me. I felt no breath on my neck.
Then, she whispered, her voice creeping into my ear like frost, "I want you instead."
Her voice was so creepy and cold it sent shivers of pure terror down my spine. I screamed, jolting myself up from the bed and staring wildly behind me. But there was no one there.
"Why are you screaming?" a voice asked.
I looked to see her sitting on the dresser again, calmly applying lipstick. Where on earth did she get that? And how did she get there so quickly?
"Why do you seem surprised at how I move?" she asked, not looking away from the mirror. "Hello? I'm dead. I can be anywhere." She grinned at my reflection.
"You... you want me?" I stammered, my throat dry. My body was regenerating the sheer terror of her voice saying those words. To crown it all, she was dead. My heart was beating like a drum.
"I want you to do a task for me. But not now. First, let's have fun. I want ice cream," she said, smiling a sheepish, innocent smile that was utterly terrifying.
My door burst open in a hurry, and several of my servants bulged in, panic on their faces. I quickly pulled my duvet over my lap to hide the fact that I had peed myself.
"What?!" I asked, suddenly cloaking my despair in a layer of rudeness and anger. The ghost lady was already gone.
"Boss, we heard you scream, so we all rushed down here—" a male servant began.
I cut him short with a tremendous yell. "GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!"
They all flinched. I wasn't a man to be told twice. They began filing out without another word. The last one to leave shut the door, and as it closed, I saw her. She was standing right behind the door.
Gosh, I thought, she had already left.
She giggled. "I'm not leaving your life. At least not for the next one year."
"What?" I exclaimed, my hope shattering.
"If I get you the ice cream, would you stop haunting me and leave me alone?" I asked, desperation clear in my voice.
She looked up, pretending to think hard about her answer. "Okay, fine," she replied, giggling. "Well, I would have left your life for good, but you are the one that kissed me. So you are bonded to me until I complete why I came to Earth."
My panic increased, my face squeezing in frustration. This lady was like a bug I couldn't shake off.
"Promise to leave you if you get me my bucket of ice creams," she said, smiling her creepy smile.
---
Back to the present...
I stopped my car in front of a supermarket, the memory of that humiliating morning fresh in my mind. I was here to get more buckets of ice cream.
"Get me a different flavor this time around," Wednesday muttered from the back seat.
I just needed to give her whatever she wanted so she would leave my life for good. After a short while, I came out of the supermarket, two buckets in hand. A stack of old newspapers for sale caught my eye. One headline cut through my focus, and I picked it up.
The article was about a woman named Wednesday McClair, who died 17 years ago after a heroic moment of sacrificing her life to save her country.
My blood ran cold. I took the paper, got back into my car, and dropped the ice cream into the back seat.
"Yum," I heard her say as she instantly appeared in the passenger seat.
I ignited the car and hit the road, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. "So, you say your name is Wednesday?" I asked, my voice tight.
She hummed, her mouth full of ice cream.
I showed her the newspaper. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Me. Seventeen years ago," she said slowly.
"Yeah, I know that," I said rudely, rolling my eyes. "A heroic death. Ghosts are known for coming back to Earth to revenge. So why did you come back?"
I felt a sudden, sharp turn in the atmosphere. The playful, creepy ghost was gone.
"'Heroic death,' indeed," she said, her voice low and laced with a bitterness I hadn't heard before. "I didn't just die to save my country. It was a set-up. I'm here to find those who plotted and set me up. They are my murderers."
A cold dread pooled in my stomach. "How does that have anything to do with me?" I asked.
She gave me that creepy smile again, but this time, it was sharp and deadly. "You will help me kill them yourself," she said.
"What?!" I exclaimed, shocked, my heart hammering against my ribs.
She nodded, her expression leaving no room for argument. "Yourself."
To be continued.....