A Veil of Mist

CHAPTER 3 THE FALLEN ANGEL

Aylward could hardly believe what he saw. He had run around in circles for months chasing this woman. She always managed to get away just as he got too close. During this time he never found the reason that kept her behind, the something or something she was after. And now, this lanky boy, wearing a constant expression of stupidity — a remarkably mundane being was what kept her tied? In all his years walking among humans, he would have never guessed the boy to have any sort of other worldly sensitivity. Their paths crossing was utter luck.

After he had crashed the costume party and had his fill of scaring humans in his ghostly period costume, he had found a strange thrill in the bewildered wide-eyes expression the boy looked at him with. Mara would not be happy when she found he was toying with humans instead of chasing restless souls. After scaring Mazen, Aylward had followed him out of curiosity, but was quick to mutter a prayer of thanks, more out of habit than faith, when he spotted the ghost he was supposed to have been hunting.

Alyward had quietly slipped out of the room when the woman spotted him. He waited in the hallway leaning against the wall, picking at his nails; the perfect portrayal of a tough guy. He had shed his tailcoat in favour of a worn leather jacket and the trousers for a pair of faded dark blue jeans. He was counting down from ten, convinced the ghost would show up before he reached one.

On two, the woman appeared in front of him, ghostly tendrils of her dark hair flying around her face and a very bright aura surrounding her form. Oh, she was furious.

"You know," Aylward straightened. "I've always wondered why you didn't move on. You've always been so careful, and you threw it all away for him?" Aylward waved his hand towards Mazen's door.

The ghost bared her mottled teeth. This was the truth she kept hidden. The ugly reality of souls at unrest, the ones who choose to stay behind seeking their petty human grudges.

Alyward drew closer, looking at her clearly for the first time. The dots connected, given the striking resemblance. Even in the ghostly, almost muted features of her face, he could see a lot of the boy. She was the boy's mother. She had to be.

"You would seek revenge on your own son?" he spoke low and received a growl in response. How predictable.

"Stay. Away." the woman's ghost managed to wheeze out whilst jabbing her fingers through his chest.

Aylward gaped at the use of her full comprehensible words. Ghosts were not supposed to do that. Certainly not in his experience. They could move around objects, manipulate temperature for up to a few degrees and even affect emotions to a certain limit. But full words without help? That was new.

"That boy looks like a fly would swat him," Aylward drawled on, seeking to instigate the ghost again. But her form started to flicker and she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, she vanished entirely, leaving behind dark wisps of smoke.

Aylward ran his hand through his hair. He was frustrated. In all the years he had existed, he had never been as incredibly frustrated. He needed a vacation, or perhaps a retirement. But he also needed to not suck at his only job. He pocketed his hands and looked at Mazen's door. He could go back inside, maybe follow the boy around to see what it was the ghost lady wanted from him.

But he had an appointment he was already late for. And death waited for no one.

We finally meet our second main character. He is an absolute delight to write and I would love your predictions on what will happen next!

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