Flame & Spirit. Paul could feel the currents of anger…
By: Ariel Cross
Tags: Jewish, Nonbinary, Urban Fantasy, Ghosts, Flash Fiction

Photo by Sumit Saharkar on Unsplash

Paul could feel the currents of anger and energy swirling inside and around the abandoned house, fueled by and responding to the spirit. He and River stood just outside the sphere of influence, at the end of the concrete path leading to the shadowed porch.

River regarded the darkened structure, an unreadable expression on their face. “You think we’ll need backup?”

Paul tilted his head, evaluating. “Nah, let’s do this.” As he led the way down the path and onto the porch, he clutched his Star of David in one hand and pulled a clear crystal from his jeans pocket. He paused to get a feel for the ghost, which was not pleased with their intrusion. “It’s pissed,” he whispered.

River shrugged, unimpressed. “Well, no reason to keep it waiting.” They reached out for the door handle and turned it. With a stereotypical ominous creak, the heavy wooden door swung inward to reveal the foyer and a long, mostly empty living room. “Looks like most of the possessions were auctioned,” River commented as they took a step inside. “Good, less shit for it to throw at us.”

River was sent flying across the room as if they had been fired from a cannon.

They struck the far wall with a thud! and grunted as the impact knocked the wind out of them. They didn’t get back up after hitting the floor. A nearly-solid shadow loomed by the fireplace, seeing its opportunity in River’s unconscious form. Paul raised his hand and fired a bolt of brilliant purple energy at the mass, but it contorted its form and dodged with ease. The magic harmlessly struck the chimney bricks and dispersed as the spirit lurched toward River.

“Shit!” Paul swore, and he sprinted through the doorway toward his fallen partner as the spirit’s manifestation did the same. It was faster. If that thing got hold of River’s body, it would be able to incinerate him with a flick of the wrist, and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. The two of them had been hasty, hadn’t put up the right protection against possession, and this thing was far stronger than the report had stated.

He fired another two bolts of magic that struck true, but the spirit didn’t slow down. He might still be able to push the thing out of River before it could figure out their fire powers, but that was a slim chance at best. He began to panic in the few seconds he was desperately trying to race for his friend’s fallen form, knowing he was too slow.

Paul was too slow, but River wasn’t.

At the last second, they snapped their head up, smirking at the crazed spirit, and a bonfire of azure flames rose up around them. The fire spread almost instantly, catching the half-manifested poltergeist in its wake. The ghost screamed, and Paul was nearly knocked to his knees with the psychic force of the wail. He steadied himself and lifted the large crystal in one hand, chanting in Hebrew as the ghost continued to shriek. River maintained the intensity of the flames, somehow keeping the house from catching as they did.

Fortunately, Paul was good at this part. In his own personal mixed style of mundane and magical exorcism, he beseeched the soul to let go of the material realm and shed the evils that held it here, channeling his will through the crystal.

In less than a minute of stable chanting, the spirit was dispersed from the Earth and sent back to the Land of the Dead where it belonged. It didn’t explode into a shower of ectoplasm, nor did it turn into a dusting of sparkles. All that signaled the passing of the dead was a faint, relieved sigh, carried away on the breeze flowing in through the open doorway.

Paul wondered why River was standing over him.

He blinked, confused. “How did you get up there?” he asked dully. His head was killing him. He could feel the cool, hardwood floor of the house beneath him and realized he must have passed out. His head was resting on what was probably River’s leather jacket, since they weren’t wearing it. “How long was I down?”

River helped him up and grabbed their jacket from the floor. “Five minutes,” they answered. “We definitely needed backup.”

Paul scoffed, grinning like an ornery child. “But did we die though?”

River crossed their arms, looking stony-faced, but after a second or two, they did laugh a little. “Let’s go get some pizza, asshole,” they said firmly, but they were still smiling.

“Aw yiss!” Paul cheered. “I’m starving!”

River led the way out of the house, pulling their keys from their jacket pocket. “Mellow Mushroom?” they suggested.

“Fuck yeah, Mellow Mushroom!”

“Man, you get so loopy when you over-channel.”