Chapter 22: Chapter 22 - The Ghost Whisperers
For more chapters, up to 10 chapters ahead, go to patreon.com/Josden
The next morning, I returned to Liam's house. The night had left me with more questions than answers. Who was this woman really? Why was she so adamant about keeping me away? And most importantly, what did she know about Liam and his abilities?
I stood in front of the wrought-iron gate, hands in the pockets of my hoodie, eyeing the old mansion warily. There was something heavy in the air. Snow fell gently, covering the cobblestone path in a thin white layer, but I could still sense the invisible barrier that had blocked my entry before.
I called out, "Madam?"
No response.
I sighed and leaned against the gate. "It's me, Jack. I came back like you asked. Are you going to let me in this time?"
A moment of silence, then the front door slowly opened. The eerie old woman stood there, her gaze just as piercing as before. She descended the steps with measured grace and stopped just behind the gate.
The old woman studied me for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh and saying, "My name is Melinda Gordon."
I raised an eyebrow. Finally, a name. At least now I wouldn't have to keep calling her "creepy old lady" in my head.
"Jack Frost," I replied, pointing to myself with my thumb. "Spirit of Winter, Guardian of Fun, and apparently, a potential threat to your house."
She hesitated for a moment, then opened the gate. "Come in."
I stepped cautiously across the threshold, ready to be repelled again, but this time, nothing happened. The barrier was gone.
The house was even more imposing up close. Its walls were made of old gray stone, and the scent of wood and aged paper lingered in the air. A gentle warmth contrasted with the cold outside, and I noticed bookshelves lining the entrance hall.
Melinda led me down a hallway into a large room where a fireplace crackled. On the table, several open books revealed yellowed pages filled with sketches of ancient symbols and handwritten texts in Latin.
I perched on the back of a chair, observing the documents. "Impressive."
She closed a book and looked up at me. "I searched through my family's archives. We've always had a special connection to the spirit world. But Liam… he's different."
I nodded. "I noticed. He saw those nightmares when no one else could."
She took a measured breath. "My family has always served as intermediaries between the dead and the living. We help wandering souls find peace, to pass to the other side. Some of us perceive troubled spirits, while others, like me, can sense spiritual anomalies before they even take shape."
I remained silent for a moment, absorbing the information. I had heard of mediums before, but never people who made it a generational vocation. "So you spend your days talking to ghosts?"
She gave a humorless smile. "If only it were that simple. Some spirits don't want to leave. Others are filled with anger and resentment, and they are the most dangerous."
I frowned. "How dangerous?"
Melinda took a deep breath before answering. "At best, they break glasses, slam doors, and move small objects. But at worst…" She paused, her expression hardening. "The worst case I encountered was here in Toronto. A poltergeist so powerful that it caused an aviation disaster. A passenger plane crashed right into the heart of High Park."
A shiver ran down my spine, and for once, it wasn't my own cold. "Wait… You're telling me a ghost caused a plane crash?"
She nodded slowly. "It didn't bring the plane down itself, but it disrupted the equipment, terrified the crew, and manipulated what it could until the inevitable happened. The chaos it sowed in the final moments was enough. That's not the only tragedy of its kind I've witnessed. Poltergeists can be more powerful than people think."
I was stunned. I had seen movies about entities spreading terror, but a spirit strong enough to cause a disaster of that magnitude? In real life? That was terrifying.
"But Liam... he has a unique gift. He doesn't just see spirits—he sees beyond, into a realm that is normally inaccessible to us."
I frowned. "A realm inaccessible to us?"
She tapped her finger on an old illustration depicting a shadow with golden eyes. "I found records mentioning creatures living in the world of nightmares. Entities that feed on human fears and manipulate dreams."
I leaned in closer to the drawing. "That's Pitch Black."
She lifted her head to meet my gaze. "You're sure?"
I pointed to the golden eyes and the dark aura surrounding the figure. "I know him. He followed me into this world. And Liam can see him."
She gently closed the book. "That means Liam is in danger."
I gritted my teeth. "That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you since yesterday. Pitch Black doesn't just terrorize children in their nightmares. He makes them real. And Liam might be the key to something much worse."
She crossed her arms and scrutinized me with a newfound intensity. "What do you propose?"
I folded my arms and thought for a moment. We had to act, but rushing in blindly would be a mistake. Liam was the key—he could see things even I couldn't detect easily. We had to understand why.
I met Melinda's gaze, determined. "First, I want to talk to him. See if he knows anything. He might have sensed other presences, other anomalies in the city."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, her protective instinct visibly on high alert. "And then?"
I tapped my staff against my palm. "Then, I want him to help me. If Liam can see these seeds before I can, then he can guide me. Pitch is spreading across the city, and we can't afford to let him take root. The faster I find these anchors, the better."
Melinda pursed her lips, contemplating my words. Her gaze drifted toward the old book she had just closed, then to the window where snow still gently fell.
"You want him to help you track these seeds?"
I nodded. "I'm not asking him to fight or take risks. Just to keep an eye out. He's already involved in this, whether he wants to be or not. So he might as well understand what he's up against."
Melinda let out a long sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. Then she straightened and fixed me with an intense stare. "Fine. But I want to be there when you talk to him. And if he shows any signs of danger, I will put an end to all of this."
I raised my hands in a peaceful gesture. "Deal."
She nodded slowly, then walked toward the living room door. "Come. I'll see if he's awake."
I followed her in silence, knowing that this day was going to be a turning point.