Confessions of a Demonically Possessed Librarian

Part 2 - The Pickle of Peter the Phantasm

"They know!"

That wasn't my own thoughts, or even the demonic voices inside my head. That was coming from the outside world. Right beside me!

I jumped out of my skin. The audio equivalent of seeing a giant spider scuttling across the floor out of the corner of your eye. I dove to the side and swatted at the air as I flew.

There was no contact. Whoever it was, they didn't occupy space.

Landing in a heap against my personal shelves behind the counter full of papers and tomes, I heard jovial laughter echoing out at my descent. I brushed my dishevelled mop of hair out of my eyes and straightened up. Looking around to locate the source of this mocking merriment.

For a second, I saw nothing, thinking myself even more mad than usual. Then I saw him. A young lad beaming down at me like a fresh, clear skied winter sunrise.

There was something familiar about his face. Although not something I could place right away. Then it dawned on me, but it did not make any sense.

"You-you..."

"Yooooour dead!" He completed my thought in a faux spooky tone.

The attitude brought me back to composure.

"Well yes." I said standing up. "Apparently not anymore. I shouldn't be surprised in this place honestly. Yet I am somewhat. Well, at least you have saved me a job I suppose."

"Not exactly old chap!" The parodying of my British accent was a tiresome commonality.

"You are standing before me. Despite how I...how things were left between us. So, I don't see..."

"Are you referring to how you bashed my brains in over there?" Peter said, turning to the place where he had been sitting the day previous.

"Yes."

"Oh nah, that was a very lasting impression you made!" He laughed and indicated to the gory mess that was now clear to me in the back of his cranium.

I stood there dumbfounded. It was hard for me to know what was real and what was not in general, but apparently that had indeed happened. The extensive clean up should have told me that.

"What happened then?!" I demanded.

"I should be thanking you really." He smirked. "When I came here looking for answers that cursed house my sister dragged us to had a real hold on me. If I'd gone back there I'd probably be a hollowed out husk by now. By killing me, you freed my soul from its clutches."

"Oh, I see." I said, not really seeing at all.

"Yeah, so when I died, those demon guys in this place tried to take hold of me. But they spat me out, saying something about me being tainted by that shitty house. The two really don't get on apparently. I tried to get back into my body but that was a no go, so now I guess I'm just here now!"

"What?" I asked, not wanting to believe that I had yet another disruptive voice to plague me.

"I don't know what to tell you man. All I know is I can hear the spirits in both places, and they are pissed right now. At you!"

This was terrible news. I was only doing what I thought was right. This miscreant was disrespecting the books and needed to be dealt with. Perhaps I could have taken more care with how I handled it, but in the moment I...I lost control. There was very little excuse when I stopped to think about it.

"So, are you here to exact your vengeance upon me?"

I tried to ready myself for some kind of assault.