Chương 14: Chapter 13: The Thing in the Shadow

"Yes. My name is Micheal, and this is my assistant, Marco." Micheal lowered his head to the old woman.

"It's good to know other people are investigating this matter." The elderly woman sighed.

"The Church barely told us anything. Took my daughter away just like that. I trust them, but some words would have been better than none." Micheal nodded.

"My client feels the exact same way. That's why I came here, to know more about your daughter."

"Hopefully you didn't travel far. I am Maria Baruch, and this is my daughter, Eliza." Maria gestured to the red-haired lady. Micheal cast a faint smile at Eliza. Eliza simply smiled back, lowering her head.

"My youngest one, Evelyn, she's the one they took." Maria rubbed her eyes.

"Eliza, my dear. Could you get our guests some tea?"

"That won't be necessary," Micheal said.

"Ah, don't argue with me, lad. It has been ages since we last had a visitor. Go on, Eliza. Hurry up." Maria said.

"Of course, Mother." Eliza disappeared into an adjacent room.

"Take a seat, you two. And what do you want to know?" Maria said. Micheal and Marco grabbed their chairs and sat down.

"Firstly, I have a few things I'd like to clear up. Was your husband Themorian, by any chance?"

"Yes, he was. Came from the highlands. He was a big man with long red hair. I miss him greatly. He died some ten years ago, got caught by a man-eating raven."

"My condolences."

"Aye. What else do you want to know?"

"When did your daughter, Evelyn, awaken?" Micheal pulled out a tiny notepad and a pen from his breast pocket.

"It happened seven days ago. My girl woke me up early in the morning. She whispered to me that there was someone in our apartment. I had Eliza grab her father's rifle… but there was no one. At least that's what we thought. I thought my girl had gone mad."

"Mad? Why?" Micheal furrowed his brows.

"I'm just a ninth generation, young man. My mother was of the eighth. I can't see ghosts." Maria said. Micheal thought for a second, remembering the law of potency. The children of two demihumans that differ in bloodlines will result in a higher generation. Twice removed. Usually, the mother's genes are dominant, but some bloodlines are the opposite.

"You weren't originally a ninth, were you?"

"No. I managed to eat a ghost heart back in the day. If I were still a tenth, I'd be long dead by now—" A loud crash and a shrill scream broke out in the kitchen.

"Eliza!" Maria's eyes widened.

"Marco! Stay here with the Lady." Micheal pulled out his revolver and barged into the kitchen.

"Eliza? Are you alright?" Eliza was leaning against the wooden countertop, her dress was soaked, and her chest was heaving up and down. Broken porcelain shards littered the kitchen floor.

"I… I just dropped it by accident." Micheal sighed in relief and holstered his revolver.

"What's going on in there?!" Maria yelled.

"I just dropped the teacup!" Eliza rubbed her eyes and said. Micheal grabbed a nearby broom.

"Bloody hell. I'll help you clean that up."

"No, it's… it's alright." Eliza shook her head.

"Your hands are still shaking. Let me help you." Micheal said, but he was already gathering the shards into a wooden dustpan.

"Okay, if you insist." Eliza murmured and grabbed the ends of her dress and scurried out of the room. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Outside, Maria's reprimanding voice rang out.

"By the Lady, get yourself together. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry, Mother. It won't happen again." Eliza replied.

"Go get yourself a change of clothes." Maria said. Micheal finished cleaning up the kitchen floor and went back into the living room.

"I swear, she hasn't been herself since we sent her sister to the Church. I understand her worry, but she needs to get her act together." Maria said.

"Both of your daughters are Caitiff, I assume," Micheal said.

"Was. Now one of them is an eighth." Maria took a deep breath.

"She's one generation lower than me, for the Lady's sake." I've heard of awakenings before… but to turn a Caitiff into an eighth generation? What on earth could have done that?

"If you don't mind, I'll have a closer look at your room," Micheal said.

"Go on, young man. No one's gonna stop you." Maria said. Seven days ago… hopefully I can still make sense of what's going on. Micheal closed his eyes and focused deeply on the date. Seven… no more, no less… With a click of his tongue, a light pang of pain spread through the back of his eyes. When he opened them, a blurry vision overlapped with the modest bedroom. A pair of colorful red blurs lay in the empty bed, while Maria's historical self was tucked beneath the covers, half merged with her current self.

One of the red blurs, in the shape of a young girl, rose up from the bed and shambled over to Maria. She shook the vision's arm and then pointed at the front door. A little further back… Micheal clicked his tongue and turned back the time of his Witnessing. The red blur retraced her steps and returned to her bed. Too slow. With another click, the vision turned into an incomprehensible blur, reversing at a pace faster than the eye could comprehend. Then Micheal felt an unnatural chill go down the back of his spine.

Here. Micheal paused his Witnessing. It was the dead of the night, and three blurs were tucked in their beds, sleeping. He clicked, and the vision played before his eyes. A dark shadow surged from one corner of the room, transforming into the shape of a large man. It was pure black from head to toe, and it had arms, fingers, legs, and toes, but its face was a complete slate of darkness. It walked over to the red silhouettes and stopped right at their bedside.

It reached over to the smaller red thing and placed its palm over her blurry head. Swaths of darkness enveloped her face in a matter of moments. It moved its hand to the larger blur but stopped halfway. It shook its head and turned around, walking toward the wall. That's not a monster… its movements are too rational… too planned. That's a demihuman. But… what bloodline? The shadow halted in its tracks and turned its head toward Micheal. Is it… looking at me?

A pair of deep red eyes rose from the face of darkness, so clear that he could tell the slitted irises apart from the slate of red. Micheal gulped and instinctively moved toward the bed. But the thing twisted its head, its gaze following his every step. It's looking at me! Micheal snapped his fingers and dispelled his Witnessing. As the room returned to normal, he took a deep calming breath and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"By the Lady…"

"Are you alright?" Marco went over to his side.

"Yeah… I'm… I'm good." Micheal said.

"What did you see, young man?" Maria asked, her face a picture of worry.

"Something… no… someone visited your children at night. It… it gave them something, like a part of its body." Micheal said.

"The Church told me something similar." Maria said. It looked at me… it wasn't a coincidence, it could bloody see me. Whatever that thing is, it left its taint here. It can sense me looking back into its past. And now it knows me… it's seen my face. Calm down. Maria doesn't seem to know the extent of this madness. Marco furrowed his brows.

"Is that all you see?" Marco, he's a smart kid. He knows.

"Aye, I'll make a report later." Micheal pulled out a pocket knife from his coat.

"Marco, get some samples of that wall." He pointed at the corner.

"Just a little."

"Don't damage it now. Rent is already high as it is." Maria said.

"It's just a few shavings. Don't worry, Ma'am." Marco scraped off tiny chunks of paint from the wall, collecting them in his left hand.

"Put them in here." Micheal produced a small paper bag from his pocket and gave it to Marco.

"Is this enough?" Marco showed his palm, half covered with paint debris.

"Aye." Marco sprinkled the paint shavings into the paper bag.

"Ma'am, it's likely that whatever visited your daughters is a lower-generation demihuman. And the fact that it's only awakened those of the Ghost Bloodline thus far… means it should have a strong connection with the unliving." Micheal said.

"A lower generation… I've heard horror stories from my mother before. I never thought it would happen to my daughters. Goddess help us." Maria said.

"What I need from you is a strand of your hair. And one from your daughter, too." Micheal said. Maria grabbed a strand of her long black hair and sliced it off with her nails.

"Eliza! What's keeping you there? Get out here!" Eliza emerged from the bathroom door, wearing a new pleated brown skirt.

"Sorry, Mother."

"Give this man a strand of your hair." Maria said. Eliza furrowed her brows.

"Wh… why?"

"I'm going to run some tests on your bloodline and see if anything strange comes up." Micheal said.

"Very well." Eliza plucked off a strand of hair from her head and gave it to Micheal. Micheal plopped the two strands of hair into the paper bag. He then grabbed his wallet and pulled out thirty Leon bills, placing them on the table.

"For your time. Thank you for assisting us."

"You're a good man, Micheal. I hope you find out what's causing this madness." Maria said.

"I do too, Ma'am. Now, we must be going. Come on, Marco." Micheal opened the front door and went down the corridor. Marco hurried after him and whispered, "Why are you in such a hurry? What the hell did you see?"

"We need to get purified. Now." Micheal said.