𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮
In a world overrun by souls coming back to haunt the living, where young girls and boys are the only ones who have the talent to fight this rising problem. A world in which being touched by a ghost is a death sentence.
Sophie...
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chapter fourteen, short straws and iron coffins.
"THAT WAS HORRIBLE," the youngest member grumbled, searching the gloomy area around them. But she wasn't talking about the horrors of the silent graveyard. No, instead she was talking about what was happening outside the guarded gates. The four agents could barely make it into Kensal Green with the amount of vicious protesters blocking the road, causing havoc around them.
In all the years Sophie had been working, She never really had much experience with those in the ghost cult, apart from a small encounter with them every now and then. Although, it was never to that extreme. "You get used to it," George huffed, continuing down the path. The silence from a few minutes ago was now replaced with muffled yelling. "It's this bit I don't like."
"I know what you mean," Sophie shuddered, her eyes scanning the iron-locked graves surrounding them. "I know their sources are secured but..."
"It still feels like enemy territory," Lockwood finished her sentence with a nod.
The darkness around them was cut off up ahead by many lamp posts, bonfires and a few small lanterns scattered around the ground and makeshift tables. Sophie could just about make out the main building in front of them, the voices becoming much more clear, the closer they got.
"Jesus," Lucy mumbled, gawking at the scene around them.
"I mean," the older girl shrugged, her dark eyes landing on all the different groups gathered in separate areas; occupying themselves by playing card games or just plain old chit-chat. "Saunders did say the place comes alive at night."
Lucy shifted her gear bag to her other hand, trying to ease the weight. "Who are all these people?"
"It's the security," Lockwood answered, gesturing as the four passed each group. "And the gravediggers. Proper, honest blokes, you know? Real salt of the earth."
"You haven't even spoken to them before," Sophie rolled her eyes.
"Yeah well," he tore his gaze away from the group of men, raising his chin slightly. "They're a bit scary," he nod his head to the next group, which consisted of about five kids huddling around a table with a stack of cards. "Night watch. Lowest pay, lowest life expectancy in the business."
Sophie stared at the huddle. The oldest there seemed to be around Sophie's age while the rest looked much younger. Barely looked passable for teenagers. It was inhumane having children in this type of field, having to work in such dangerous conditions. But then again, that's what the world has come to. "They need to unionize. I've told them a thousand times," George huffed.
