Lockwoods key

Chapter 6

Sorting through the files had taken her at least an hour, and the pictures an additional two. Chrissy sat back on the rocking chair, closing her eyes as she swayed gently. It hadn't taken much to track down the next member, but it seemed she was too late. Mr Aberton made the 4th victim now.

In his pale blue house of central London him and his wife had lived a lavish life as expected. But now a debt had to be paid, and he was the latest victim.

She opened her eyes at a sudden shiver, an icy bolt of shock causing her to jump out of the chair and knock into the bookshelf.

Plasma. Plasma dripping down from the ceiling hardly an inch from her face. It was seeping from the light, having crawled its way across the room to where she was sitting. Then she felt it. The chill which caused her to wrap the black leather jacket closer around her, pushing her back up to the wall as her breath became visible.

Whatever it was wasn't in the room with her, but above her as soft groans and thudding steps began to drag across from in the attic.

"Seems I got here a bit too soon actually." She grumbled. She had a few chains hanging from the belt around her waist, a silver dagger strapped to her thigh and a magnesium flare she'd found underground, but that was it. Snooping wasn't a good idea. Leaving it meant hunters discovering things she had missed.

Out in the corridor it was silent, apart from the now louder groans coming from the attic. Chrissy frowned. She hadn't gotten to searching there yet, but the door was wide open, the dark staircase beckoning her. Holding her lantern in front of her she walked slowly up the stairs, before the whistling of a rapier caused her to jump up the last few.

"Lockwood? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Currently stuck brandishing his rapier, Lockwood was flat against the wall as a Wraith approached him. He turned, looking at her with wide dark eyes.

"Close your eyes!" She yelled, tossing the magnesium flare from the fold of her skirt. A blinding light exploded exactly at the Wraiths feet, a horrific yowling scream emitting as it vanished into ash.
"Bloody hell Lockwood, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you!" He replied, his voice raising slightly as he shook himself down. Chrissy grumbled, almost growling at him as she stood with her arms crossed, that amber glare striking him again.

"Realised how stupid you are finally?"

"Keep talking like that and show you how stupid I can get!"

"Try it you arrogant prick!"

Too distracted by their argument, both failed to notice the apparition of another Wraith, this one female in form, slightly smaller than the last. She stumbled over her feet, reaching out for the girl with a trembling hand of bone and mist.

Something caused another chill to run down Chrissy's spine, and she twisted away as the woman's ghost lunged forward. An arm wrapped around her waist as she moved back, Lockwood pulling her into his chest as his rapier arced through the Wraiths torso, stopping with the edge of the blade a centimeter from her nose.

Exhaling slowly he lowered the blade. There was a length of chain now in her hand, a dagger in her other. Both began to move backwards to the stairwell, Lockwood's tight embrace pulling her with him as he looked behind to navigate. The wraith had doubled over in pain, but it was only a minor wound, not enough to destroy the spirit completely.

"Let go." Chrissy demanded through gritted teeth, beginning to struggle against him. He responded by tightening his grip, ducking to talk in her ear.

"You really gonna kill those things with a chain and dagger?"

"If I don't more of you fuckers will come. I can't have them finding anything."

"Such a filthy mouth."

With a sharp elbow to the stomach she broke free, dagger flying directly at the Wraiths head. Like the last one it wailed and crumbled to ash, but a final apparition appeared huddled in the corner, a mournful cry echoing through the room. Unlike the others however this one was only a Shade, the ghost of their son who had gotten caught up in the disaster.

Chrissy paused for a minute, prideful smirk dropping.

"Let me." A voice said, fabric rustling as Lockwood brushed past her. Chrissy distracted herself by cutting down the nooses, flinching at the sound of air being slashed through. She didn't turn until a hand landed on her shoulder.

"The nooses are the source."

Lockwood frowned, her back still turned to him and voice thick. He wasn't going to leave her crying, but they needed to get out.

"How can you tell?" He asked, using his grip to turn her around and take the three ropes from her hand. She was paler than usual, eyes cast downwards and no longer burning bright in the low light.

"It's like a tingly feeling in my hands when I touch them, cause of the energy. Sometimes with Type 3 sources it's more of a burning. Like that Skull Jar. I was so shocked I nearly dropped it."

While he wasn't exactly surprised at her abilities, he still had to hold back from asking a million questions that lurched like word vomit up his throat. Now wasn't the time.

Lockwood nodded, handing her the dagger which she accepted with a small thanks.

"Fittes are coming, lets get you out of here."

Of course. She was meant to be on the run. Internally sighing that she wouldn't get the credit for this she motioned for him to lead the way. They walked back down the stairs, Lockwood stopping to listen every few seconds. It seemed the team were mulling around downstairs, sorting through the bookshelves for any more evidence.

"I'll go out the window."

"No, wait. I think there's a better way. If I go and -"

When he turned she was gone. Cursing softly he snuck past the view of the others back to the room she went into, the light still on. The rocking chair was still intact, the floor a mess of books and papers but no more plasma. Chrissy breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she saw her pile of evidence where she had left it.

"Christine, what are you... what is all this?" Lockwood bent and picked up an old photo of a large group standing outside a grand farm- house.

It was sinister, with about twenty members staring deadpan into the camera, many with sleeves rolled up to show large cuts or etchings on their arms. All the women wore long cotton pinafores with a shirt underneath and a few had layered lace aprons over. The men wore slacks and tartan shirts, apart from three who sat at the front with robes and dog- collars. Sitting on the middle one's lap was the only child of the group. A young girl with long hair in a tattered dress. She was the only one smiling too, a crucifix in hand.

"The Cult of Belial. Or part of it anyways. That's me, on the left."

Her finger pointed to another child he hadn't yet spotted, hardly a grey blur but still identifiable. Hair short and sticking up she was mostly hidden behind a priest, the woman towering over her keeping a firm hand on her head, as if ready to pull her by the hair at any second.

"The other girl was called Hannah. She died a few days after this was taken. Child sacrifice."

"It's... horiffic." Lockwood settled on, handing the picture back to her.