PROBLEM - Anthony Lockwood

CHAPTER NINE

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ix

this is a perfectly normal tuesday night i promise

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"WHAT'S IT SAY?" Alice inquired, pouring herself a cup of tea.

"They moved here, everything was fine, no manifestations, then suddenly he falls down the stairs and dies," Lockwood summarised, "She thinks he tripped going to get a glass of water."

Alice rolled her eyes as she sipped her tea, "Hmm, very credible."

"Sarcastic or ironic?" he inquired.

"The cleverer one."

"You think she pushed him?" Lockwood asked, putting the bags onto the counter.

"Well, that would be a motive," Alice mused. "Did she describe the appirition?"

"It says that she felt as if something was looking for her but couldn't find her and the thought of it finding her was more than she could bear," he explained. "Which suggests a purpose."

"A type two," Alice sighed, she finished her tea and stood, eyes straying to the clock, "6:30 - sun's down."

Lockwood smirked, "Let's find ourselves a ghost."

The two of them made their way upstairs, slowly lighting the way with their flashlights.

"The knocking is back now, it's getting louder," Alice declared, she stepped onto the landing and instantly, everything went silent. "It's gone silent so they're aware we're here." She paused.

"What is it?" Lockwood queried, sensing that she had something else to say.

"I don't think this is the ghost of Mr. Hope," she revealed, "This ghost is a girl, I can sense it - she died a violent death."

The thermometer in Lockwood's hand beeped rapidly, "Temperature's dropping," he stated, "Pick a door, any door."

"The furthest," Alice replied, "There's a dark energy about it."

They made their way into the room, shining their flashlights. Alice looked around, eyes landing on a desk. "It's an office."

Lockwood moved a rug, "But not always, look. Pressure marks. Deep, wide apart. Perhaps this used to be a bedroom before the Hopes moved in."

Alice turned, making her way towards the chimney. "The source is here, can't you feel it?"

There was a crash and a fading cry.

A woman's cry.

Lockwood must have seen the look in her eye, because he put a hand on her arm reassuringly. "Don't let it get to you. Get the bags and make a circle."

Alice nodded, making her way back through the landing, downstairs and into the kitchen. She picked up the bags, making her way back upstairs sheepishly. She had only brought filings, and purosely 'forgot' the iron chains.

Chains... Chains...

Bars...

Alice pushed the memories out of her head trying to focus at the task at hand. Even thinking about the chains were too painful. Too horrible.

She dropped the bags to the ground as a pinprick of light formed in the corridor.

"Lockwood," Alice called, as the light began to twist and form in an eerie, smoke like way. It began to form the sillhouette of a woman. "Lockwood."

"One moment, there's another death glow here. You were right, there was another violent death in the house, and this one does look like a woman," Lockwood mused, he stood up, "Thing is, this predates the Hopes - so I don't understand if it's got anything to do with them."

Alice got out her knife and made a small prick on her finger as what formed the ghost of a young woman floated in the air. She looked harmless enough, but Alice was tiring of waiting for Lockwood and was considering just making contact with her the magical way.

Perhaps she could speak to her, help her get her revenge, send her off to the afterlife.

And then Lockwood exited the room and came to stand beside her, "What's the- oh-"

Alice quickly put away her knife.

"Have you got anything from her?" He inquired.

"I was a bit busy trying to contact the zindaa," Alice hissed, a slight accent to her voice.

Lockwood furrowed his brows, "You're South Asian?"

"This isn't the time for this conversation," Alice chastised as the ghost floated in the air, staying in her postition, "Shush for a second while I try and get contact."

Alice closed her eyes, letting the drop of blood on her finger fall to the ground as she tapped into her magic and tried to reach out to the woman.

"She's in pain."

"Of couse she is, she'd dead."

"Not that kind of pain, love," Alice shifted, "This is different." She tried to reach out again, but was hit with a wall of pain and fear and anger."

"Let go of me.... Let go of me...."

"We can help you," Alice whispered, "What's your name?"

"LET GO OF ME!" The ghost shrieked, barelling towards Alice.

Lockwood ducked out of the way, turning to grab his rapier. In the split second that he wasn't looking, the ghost slammed her hands into Alice's chest and pushed her back, slamming her into the banisters and causing them to break.

Alice yelled out as she fell back, grabbing onto a painting to support herself and crying out as her foot got stuck in the broken peices of the bannister.

"What the actual fuck woman!?" she yelled, "Keep your damn hands to yourself!"

"Ally!" Lockwood gasped, he lunged forward, swinging at the ghost with his rapier.

"Lockwood!" Alice cried out, her body aching with the effort of keeping herself sustained.

But the ghost and agent simply fought, as Lockwood tried to keep the ghost far away for long enough for him to get to her.

With every second, Alice's hold was slipping.

"Lockwood!" she screamed, "I'm slipping!"

Lockwood grunted with the effort of keeping the ghost at bay.

Alice tried to move her foot, but realised it had become caught in the banister, twisted. The painting was beginning to dislodge. "Lockwood!" she cried.

The painting fell.

"OH GODS!"

Before she could plummet to her end like Mr Hope, Lockwood grabbed her shirt, hauling her up and grabbing her arm and pulling her onto the landing.

Alice fell into Lockwood's arms, shaking.

"Are you okay? Did it touch you?" Lockwood demanded.

"Of course not, I'd be dead," Alice lied.

"Look, if you don't feel up to it, then we should leave now-" Lockwood began.

"I'm fine," Alice assured, "Thank you." She sighed, "The ghost isn't fine though, that poor girl."

Lockwood sighed, "The parameter's have changed, this isn't an old couple's arguement anymore - it's almost certainly the ghost of a murder victim, and she'll be back any second."

"Let's find the body."