I don’t know why I bothered checking weather reports, they were never accurate. Today's forecast was for “a slight chance of rain”, and instead it was a torrential downpour that came down sideways. Outside the window of my second-story loft, the storefronts and cobblestone streets of Old Town stood empty amid the rain and thunder.

The roads were starting to flood and several power lines had already been blown down, leaving huge swaths of the city in the dark. Most shop owners closed for the day, except for the few hangers-on hoping for a chance shopper to wander by. They should know better, Jack closed his bar downstairs. Jack doesn't close his bar... Ever.

As one of the few non-commercial residences among the antique buildings, I settled into my place to wait out the worst of the storm alone. Being among the unlucky ones without power, my apartment took on an unwitting air of ambiance, candles standing on nearly every surface surrounded by patches of wavering shadow. At one time, the prospect of having to sit through a blackout probably would have driven me nuts. Now, at least I had something to keep me occupied.

I sat at my desk, facing the gloomy window with the rest of the one-room flat to my back, Its surface littered with the numerous strange books I had gotten a day earlier from the local occult bookshop. Being stuck inside, and without power, there wasn’t much else for me to do but indulge my new, stranger pursuits.

I poured over the largest volume by the glowing flicker of flame, listening to the pounding of the rain outside broken by the occasional roar of distant thunder. The pages were filled with glyphs and drawings of old religious symbols and seals, many written in languages I couldn't understand. I compared them to the old silver heptagram talisman lying on the desk beside the books. I couldn't find any record of a Phylacterium De Spiritus Iustitiae online, so instead I was left to compare the relics' strange angular markings to those of the books, hoping to get lucky.

“you won't find it in any of those,” came a voice from behind me.

With a mug held to my lips, I lurched forward in my seat and choked on tea as amber liquid sloshed down my front. I whirled around to find Leo sitting in my armchair directly behind me. He wore his usual fine dark suit over a crisp white shirt, and had his heels up on my coffee table while twanging a freaking mandolin by the dim candlelight.

“God dammit Leo!” I shouted, “Put a bell on man! ” I wiped my shirt futilely. “What do you want?”

Leo stared wistfully towards the dark ceiling, unperturbed by my rudeness, he started playing, pastime with good company, on his instrument. “Does a Handler need a reason to see his Vessel? He grinned at me.

The incorporeal jerk.

Rolling my eyes, I got up and walked to the bathroom to clean myself. “Seriously, we need to establish some boundaries”.

He laughed from his seat.

I took off my shirt and grabbed a dry one from the clean laundry bag before going to the sink to rinse off. “I haven't had a vision in weeks.” I shouted to Leo from the bathroom, “ So out with it, what do you want?”

Once clean, I turned from the sink in the small dark room, illuminated only by what little candlelight radiated through the open door. Before I could leave, however, I saw my shower curtain swaying slightly, as though jostled by gentle movement.

I stopped, Curious, and turned toward the blacked-out shower. As I did the shadows and low light played against me, it almost looked like a person stood behind the curtain. I was close enough to touch it, so I reached out to grab hold.

“Can I show you a good time sir?” came a woman's low, sad voice from behind the curtain. My heart jumped into my throat, I grabbed a fistful of the plastic and yanked back to confront the intruder. But no one was there... I exhaled hard.

I turned to leave the bathroom, “Hey Leo-”

“I’ll keep you warm,” she cooed.

I’d come nose to nose with a woman with bleach white skin, and black eyes, wearing a tattered dress blocking the door.

“Holly crap!”

I stumbled back, tripped, and landed in the bathtub, tangled in my shower curtain. After an embarrassingly long struggle with the curtain, I freed myself and leaped to my feet. She was gone.

Breathing fast, I hurried out of the bathroom, coming to a halt in front of Leo as he played with his imaginary instrument.

“That,” I said, struggling to find my calm, “was less normal than usual. What the hell dude?”

Leo frowned for a moment. “Ah yes!” he exclaimed standing to his feet (the mandolin vanished). “I’d forgotten, I did need to tell you something.”

I raised my eyebrows, waiting. “... yes?” My frustration was mounting.

“You’ve a ghost in your apartment,” Leo said nonchalantly.

The candles throughout the room suddenly went out in a puff, leaving us in total darkness.

***

After re-lighting the candles I sat on a stool by the counter, coffee in hand (wishing it was whiskey), and rubbing the side of my head. I could feel a migraine coming on.

“You're saying ghosts are real? Like, people's souls stuck on earth?”

Leo nodded, “Oh yes it's quite common. But they don't usually manifest in the world without some kind of catalyst. They are normally relegated to the Aether space.”

For some reason, the idea of being haunted bothered me less than the revelation about the soul... souls were real... I had never thought about it before, but part of me hadn’t believed in an afterlife. Or at least, I didn’t want to. Of all the things I’d experienced with Leo so far, this was the most unsettling.

“What was the catalyst?” I asked.

“Oh the storm, to be sure.” he replied, “a strong storm tends to whip Aether into a frenzy. Most people would never see the ghosts as they pass through, but for you...” his voice trailed off as he glanced at the talisman on the desk.

I blew out a breath in a puff, “Right, right I get it. OK, so what now?

As I spoke I caught a glimpse of movement behind Leo. Glancing over his shoulder I saw a single pale arm on the floor under my bed, slowly withdrawing itself beneath the frame. I closed my eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Is the spooky crap really necessary?” I hissed through gritted teeth.

Leo chuckled. “They aren't trying to scare you. They are scared. In the Aether what they feel is what they become. Usually, a human soul that hasn’t moved on is due to some trauma. Something they relive in the Aether over and over. The best thing you can do is try to confront whatever the poor soul is frightened of and try to bring it peace.”

Shaking my head, I stood up, walked to the desk, and picked up the talisman. “Fine. how do I do that?” I asked, turning around to face him.

But he had already gone again. Of Course.

Well if Leo was done helping, I supposed I had to work with what I’d learned over the past several months. The biggest lesson was that things coming from the Aether could do more than just look scary... So, besides the talisman, I went to the old wooden chest by the door and pulled out my nightstick. Once armed, I stood in the middle of my apartment, unsure what to do next.

“Um, ok ghost lady,” I called out, “Are you still here? I’m going to help you... I guess.”

With a click, I heard the deadbolt unlock. My eyes reluctantly wandered over to the front door as it slowly opened with an ominous creek, revealing the empty blacked-out staircase landing.

“Yup,” I nodded to myself. “Yeah, that looks right.”

Checking the talisman was in my pocket, I grabbed a candle off the counter and started towards the door. “Stupid,” I said anxiously, “This is so stupid.”

Exiting my apartment, I stared down into the deep pool of blackness enveloping the stairwell. Holding my candle aloft, I took the stairs, one at a time, listening intently for any clues.

“Don't be scared ghost lady,” I called, feeling foolish. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

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As I approached the bottom of the first flight of stairs, I heard something to my left, coming from the door leading into Jack’s bar. It was a pinging sound, a single high note repeating itself over and over. Feeling jittery, I reached for the door handle and found it unlocked.

I exhaled, trying to control my nerves as I walked into Jack's darkened pub. The entire bar was the original setup from the Gold Rush era. The counter, pillars, and even the barback were all vintage. The place normally had a warm inviting feel to it, But in the low light of my solitary candle, I would gladly have been anywhere else.

The high-pitched note continued to repeat itself. I followed it to the back of the bar where Jack’s old piano sat. The cover was up, and as I watched, a single key depressed, playing a loan note to the empty room.

I swallowed, my throat dry.

Behind me, a man chuckled. My skin crawled and I spun around to face the bar. Two pale, translucent men had appeared sitting on stools with their backs to me. I could see their ghostly faces in the mirror behind the counter.

The man on the right was probably in his late forties, with a handlebar mustache. The other had a weasley face and a long scraggly beard. Both wore clothes from an older period, probably around the late 1800s; suspenders, trousers over boots, and wide-brimmed hats.

They were speaking low to each other in the darkened bar, oblivious to my presence. I could only just make out what they were saying.

“So you take her, and we’re settled right?” said the older man on the right, his voice echoing and distant. The other to the left put a hand on the first’s shoulder. “Your debts paid, old man. Just get her downstairs for me.”

The piano stopped playing itself.

“Where are we going papa?” a girl's voice chimed in from directly over my shoulder.

Both ghostly figures snapped too, pivoting in their seats to face me. Their eyes, like a cat’s, reflected my candlelight, turning to solid white specs in their spectral faces.

My breath caught in my chest and I instinctively backed away, tripping over chairs until my back was against the wall. Both specters stood quickly, moving as though to lunge. The girl's voice let out an ear-shattering scream that filled the room, and as she did, the two men vanished, dissolving into the darkness.

It was quiet again. My ears were ringing, my mind racing. I collected myself and tried to slow my ragged breath, trying to remember why I was there.

If I had to guess, the two men were probably part of my ghost girl's memory. Oh god... One had been her father. My stomach squirmed. I was no stranger to history. Men trading their daughters to settle debts had not been unheard of. I imagined That could certainly be enough to traumatize a soul after death.

I looked up and scanned the room when I saw The door leading back out to the stairs standing open a crack. As I watched, just behind the door, peeking out at me was the obscure figure of the pale woman. No sooner did I see her black eyes, than her body retreated into the dark landing with terrifying speed as though pulled away by some unseen force. I heard her scream again, this time coming up from the basement, down the second flight of stairs.

“Oh come on,” I moaned.

The girl's spirit had been leading me, that much was clear. There was nothing else for it, I had come this far. Doing my best to shake off my heebie-jeebies, I went back out the door and turned down the stairs to Jack’s basement.

Though I had expected some fresh new terror to greet me at the bottom, as I entered the lightless cellar I found only boxes and crates lining the room. The silence and inactivity were almost worse than seeing the apparitions, but she hadn’t led me down here for nothing, so I pushed on.

I started feeling along the walls behind the metal racks, stacked with bottles of booze. Holding my candle up I searched for some kind of clue. To my surprise, I found one. Along the western wall behind one of the shelves, the brick was outlined in the shape of an arch. I pulled the shelf away, feeling along the wall; air was coming out from the base of it. It was a door. My fingers worked along the edge until, at last, I found a hold. I pulled the faux wall and it swung open revealing the entrance to a dark, brick-lined tunnel.

I recalled what Jack had told me about Old Town at its founding. The entire city had been prone to flooding and would have failed if it weren't for the ingenious tactic they used to raise every building one full story. The building's basements used to be their first floors, so this... this was the original sidewalk of the city, buried beneath the modern street.

I stepped out into the damp chill tunnel of the underground, listening to the rain above, and the trickle of water leaking in from the gutters above. My candle only illuminated a few feet in front of me, everything else was pitch black. In that darkness came the soft sobbing of a woman... of several women. I crept along the old forgotten cobblestone, holding my nightstick at the ready.

I continued along the path a short distance before coming upon another false door, this one already propped open, the sounds of lamenting women coming from within. I knocked off thick cobwebs covering the partial entrance and pulled on the door, fighting rusted hinges to open it enough to walk through.

It was a single large room, a bare earth floor with stone walls all around. There were no stairs, windows, or other exits, and the door looked as if it had been made for concealment. No one was supposed to find this place.

I held my candle up examining the room. The sounds of women crying were reduced to a single one. As my light fell upon the furthest corner, I saw the hem of a dress over pale, bare feet. I followed it up, revealing the ghost girl, her back to me as she faced the corner, sobbing and hugging herself.

“No more... no more. I just want to go home” she cried.

Then, to my horror, a foul, gurgling voice sounded throughout the room. “Pretty is home,” it hissed.

In a flash, something grabbed the girl by her head and pulled her whole body up towards the ceiling like a rag doll. I tried to follow with my light but was so startled I tripped and fell backward to the ground.

Jumping up as quickly as I could, a familiar sensation of cold despair washed over me. Unlike the rest of this evening, I knew what it meant. The talisman warmed in my pocket.

“Watcher,” I breathed.

With a quick rotation of my wrist, I flicked the nightstick out to my side, instantly it ignited with pale blue Aetherfire, further illuminating the chamber with its light.

The newly lit room revealed a nightmare. In the corner opposite where the girl had been, stood a mound of gray wart-covered flesh. The Watchers’ triple-chinned head slobbered ropes of drool down the folded flaps of its belly. In one of its arms, tipped with jagged dirty fingernails, it held the girl, suffocating her against its foul hide. Between its fat flaps around its body, random limbs and body parts stuck out as though they had been stored there for later use. The Watcher stroked the ghost girl as it drooled over her head.

“Pretties my pretties” it cooed.

I could make out one of the girl's eyes, wide with terror as her face was smothered by the creature's repulsive form. The watcher looked up and saw me. For a moment it looked apprehensive. Then it smiled.

Holding my eye contact all the while, the beast gloated as it slowly pressed the girl into its flesh. Her body was pulled into its folds like a gruesome quicksand, consuming her until only a single foot was left protruding from its gut. It patte its belly when it was done.

“New pretty,” it said gleefully.

Suddenly It let out a horrible screech and charged me, wriggling across the floor with a surprising speed.

Fearful spasms shot through me and I had to fight the urge to flee. I knew what I needed to do, but I definitely didn’t like it.

I stepped up to meet the monster's advance and swung the ignited baton. It caught the stick mid-swing and let out a howl as its hand blistered under the blue flame. It let go, swinging its arm and catching me with a backhand. I hit the floor, my head bouncing off the dirt so hard that stars burst before my eyes.

Before I could get back up, the fat watcher re-doubled its attack. It slammed me against the wall, pinning me with its huge belly. It knocked the baton from my hand, extinguishing the Aetherfire and my candle.

In total darkness, I felt the wretched thing gripping me tight against its body. “Love new pretties” it cackled.

I was consumed by sheer panic, but I had practiced for this. Working hard to concentrate on the talisman, I focused my will into it, feeling the metal in my pocket grow hot against my leg.

The nightstick on the ground re-ignited. I clenched my fist trapped against the Watcher's thick hide and In response, the baton leaped into the air and buried itself deep inside the watcher's gluttonous flesh. It wailed and let go, trying to retreat away from me, clawing at the stick in its side. As soon as my arms were freed, I jumped up and grabbed the back of the Watcher's head, pulling it towards me. I screamed into its grotesque face, my other hand on the baton’s hilt driving it deeper into the beast's body.

The Watcher's entire bulbous form began to burn. Once the flames spread, I relented, dropping off the monster, and falling to the ground.

It flopped backward, crawling to the corner of the room and screaming in agony. The earth began to rumble and the dirt beneath the Watcher fell away, revealing a terrifying dark vortex again, sucking the very air around us down into the blackness. In no time the banishing void swallowed the wretched creature whole, and the moment it was out of sight, the ground sealed up again as though nothing had happened.

The room fell silent. Huffing and puffing I felt for my baton when another blue light illuminated the room. Leo appeared, holding a fist full of Aetherfire from which I could navigate.

I shook my head, glowering up at him. “Thanks for the help,” I grumbled.

“You’re quite welcome” he replied, without a trace of sarcasm. He surveyed the room, “you’re not done.” he pointed behind me.

I turned around. The room was now filled with the ghosts of women. My ghost girl was standing in front of the crowd, just outside the sphere of blue firelight, but her expression had changed. She was eyeing Leo’s Aetherfire with an odd look, almost like longing.

I looked down at my baton, then back at the girl. An idea struck me... summoning the talisman’s power, I lit it again and held it out before her.

“It’s ok,” I said, more confident of my theory than I had reason to be.

The ghost girl looked surprised by my offer. She held her hand over the flame letting it lick her fingers. When it touched her, her face sank with instant relief. I approached her, holding out the burning nightstick.

“It’s going to be ok,” I told her.

I held the flames against her chest and watched the fire envelope her. The fire turned from pale blue to bright white as it covered her body. Her posture melted, and the worry from her face vanished. She looked at me, her eyes a warm brown, rather than haunted black.

“Thank you” she whispered.

The fire faded, and she was gone.

The other souls watched with expressions of awe. I moved around the room, cleansing each of them until the room was finally empty.

“Peace at last” Leo remarked after the last girl vanished.

Exhausted, I slumped back onto the floor. I looked around the old brick hideout. “It was a smuggler's den,” I said. “No wonder a Watcher moved in, these assholes traded in the flesh.” disgust washed over me. “That girl...her own father traded her. And she’s been trapped down here with that thing ever since.”

“Yes,” Leo nodded, “until a valiant young Vessel of Justice moved in upstairs and saved her.” he beamed down at me.

Laying in the dirt, I spat out a mouthful of blood while pressing down on a cut on my shoulder.

“I hate you,” I murmured.