Chapter 83 - Basement Dweller

Morrigan cracked the door open lightly and strained her hearing to pick up any movement. Down the hall, she could hear the distinct sound of a T.V., which may have explained why the lady seemed so pissed at her when she had come to get Morrigan—probably missed some of her show.

Sliding out of the room, she lightly pushed the door back into place, then put her back against the wall as she moved. She shimmied with each step close to the baseboard, as that’s where the floor was least likely to squeak.

Then the hollow started wailing again from somewhere down below, and it became difficult to judge how much sound she herself was making. But, she focused her magic as she analyzed the hall and thought about how she might blend in. If the hall stayed dark, it would be easy; she’d imagine herself as a particularly dark shadow or a blur of light from staring at the TV. If the lights came on, though, it might be harder as there really wasn’t much to blend in with.

Reaper shaped wallpaper, maybe?

Finally, she made it to the stairs, and she had less to worry about. She descended almost sideways, placing her feet near the edge of each step as she quietly flitted down the stairs. Just like it worked at her house, an old building, there was barely a creak until she made her way to the bottom. It also helped that she weighed so little.

Upon having her feet on the ground floor, she looked toward the front door and smiled, feeling quite proud of herself.

Who needs a magic key when you just got skills?

Then, she heard the wail of the hollow and got more serious. It wasn’t time to escape yet. She had another job to do first. Whether that hollow was once a good or evil spirit didn’t matter—it was suffering. Not only that, if Pepper was correct, it also is a danger to the residents of this house. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t on her list, she had to do something about it.

She walked through the dining room, which had a long table where she saw the other girls eating earlier today. There were two doors, one leading to another hall and another into the kitchen.

The basement in her own house was accessed through the kitchen, so she decided to try there first. She passed through the threshold to find a large commercial-style kitchen, dimly lit by the night lights plugged in along the walls. The countertops gleamed in the low light, and the usual clutter of a busy kitchen was neatly arranged. Morrigan paused, her eyes scanning the walls until spotting a shabby door with peeling paint on the far end.

It certainly looked like a creepy basement door, and then when the hollow let out another long moan it all but confirmed it. Morrigan took one more look around then summoned her scythe and approached.

The door creaked ominously as she pushed it open, revealing a steep, narrow staircase that descended into darkness. The hollow’s agonized wails seemed to rise up from the depths.

She took a deep breath, gripping the scythe tighty. This is the first time she’d ever have to fight something without Noir or Death as back up. Hollows were not demons, though. She was sure she could handle this.

As she started down the stairs, the old wood moaned under her weight. No matter where she placed her feet or how carefully she descended it seemed entirely impossible to avoid making any sound on the flimsy staircase. She decided no point worrying about that now, though. Even if she alerted a staff member there would be plenty of places to hide.

Upon reaching the bottom, the air grew colder. She tried to peer through the darkness, the slight blue glow of her scythe casting disturbing shadows off the silhouettes of forgotten clutter that were stored down here. The hollow had stopped its moaning altogether now, which may be a sign it was aware of her presence. She proceeded cautiously, saying, “I don’t know if you can understand me at all… but I’m here to help. You’ve been trapped, unable to move on, and I can send you to a better place.” The fact that her scythe was glowing blue proved that this spirit was, in fact, destined for heaven, hollow or not.

Morrigan walked alongside a shelf stacked with clutter. The basement was huge, she realized. It probably had more square footage than her entire house itself. Then, she froze when she heard a creaking sound from along the shelving. She turned, noticing a slight glow from the other side, and peering over a box, she saw a wispy form with vaguely human features. Its face was pale and expressionless; there wasn’t much of a neck as it set on top of more of an orb than a proper body, and instead of legs, it just floated atop a ghostly wisp.

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It stared right back at her through the shelving, but its face was truly expressionless—not even like a doll, more like a mannequin.

“H-hey…” Morrigan said. “Do you understand me? I’m a reaper. I’m here to help you.”

Then its mouth opened slowly, and it SCREAMED. No intake of breath, no posturing up or leaning forward. It was like its mouth was a speaker at max volume that was suddenly turned on.

Morrigan stepped back, covering her ears, only able to retreat about half a step as she was between two rows of shelves. “AH! Cut it out!” she screamed back at it. She felt like her eardrums were going to pop. But then the shelves infront of her started creaking and groaning, and she realized it was preparing to topple over.

“Sh-SHIT!” Morrigan involuntarily swore as she tried dashing for the end of the aisle, items toppling off the long shelf as it tilted, moments from burying her under it.

She dove out of the way but was slightly too late. Her foot got caught under the wreckage, and she abandoned her scythe to pull at her leg as she tried to free herself.

Morrigan gritted her teeth, the metal frame of the shelf biting down to her bone as she tried to force herself free. She twisted and kicked with her other foot, but it quickly became clear she’d break a bone before wiggling out. “Damn it!” she cursed, wishing she at least had more light to examine the situation with. She sat up, grabbing the shelf and jostled it, but with little effect, the awkward angle making it impossible to find any leverage.

The hollow finally ceased with its earsplitting scream, and instead, she saw its glowing form slowly floating towards her. Its lips cracked open slightly, letting out more of a moan as it approached her. An arm with a long-fingered hand rose from its orb-like body, reaching toward her.

Morrigan gave one last tug on the shelving, still with no effect, and finally gave up on freeing herself. The hollow was a more present threat. She reached for her scythe, feeling its smooth pole barely materializing, but she did not pull it into existence yet, just letting its cool, static touch linger on her fingertips.

She watched the hollow approach, her heart pounding as it inched closer, softly moaning. Its hand stretched out further, elongated fingers trembling slightly as if uncertain. It didn’t feel particularly hostile. It had more of a cautious curiosity to its approach. Its moans softened as its gaze went down to her leg… it was hard to read its expression, but she almost wondered if it was concerned.

“Yeah, I’m hurt,” Morrigan said to it. “You did that me… See?”

The hollow paused as it came closer, its hand hovering just inches from Morrigan’s leg now. The cold emanating from its form sent shivers down her spine, but she didn’t flinch. “No hard feelings,” Morrigan said, “And sorry about this, but it’s for the best.”

It’s gaze whirled around as she swung her arm forward, materalizing the scythe into her grasp mid swing. It was a swift, clean motion, the blade passing through the hollow as soon as it formed. There was no resistance, only a brief flare of ethereal light as the blade did its work.

The hollow started to lose its shape, looking down at Morrigan as its expression seemed to soften, the corners of its mouth twitching. “Good luck,” Morrigan said, smiling at it as it rose upward before dissipating.

With that done and out of the way she looked down to her current dilemma, but then a soft voice called her name. “M-Morrigan?”

She looked over her shoulder to see Pepper. “What are you doing down here?” she asked the younger girl.

“I followed you. I’m sorry.”

“How much of that did you see?” Morrigan huffed angrily. She gripped her scythe as she looked at it, then clicked her teeth and tossed it behind herself, letting it disappear into blue flames.

Pepper’s eyes widened. “Wh-what was that?”

“I’m not answering any questions,” Morrigan said, putting her hand on the shelving and jostling it again. “Just help me!” Now that the imminent threat was over and her adrenalin was calming slightly, she more fully felt the pain of her crushed leg.

Then, all the lights in the basement flashed on. Morrigan shut her eyes and cursed.

“Who’s down there!” the woman who had let Morrigan go to the bathroom earlier called from the top of the steps.

Pepper hunched into her shoulders, hands shaking as she whispered. “Morrigan, what do we do?”

Morrigan only let out a resigned sigh as she let herself lay down flat on the cold basement floor, her ankle still wedged and throbbing with pain. “Nothing. We’re busted.”

The steps creaked as the woman came halfway down. There was a taser in her hand which she let relax at her side once she saw them. Pepper glanced back and forth between her and Morrigan, looking like she was about to cry.

“You two…” the woman said angrily. “Are in serious trouble!”

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