The Fear

Chapter 3: The Demonic Truth

 Trouble and Olisha were sitting on twisted metal benches as she brought me to the party. Trouble stood to give me a one-armed hug, which slid behind my back to ferry me around the oversized circle of people, all of their hazel-green eyes on me. The only ones without hazel-green eyes were the Africans, who had brown or black eyes. I didn't bother trying to read them, because I'd just get Olisha's scolding again. The first people he brought me to were a man and woman, both sunshine blondes with South Beach tans.

"This is Rachel and Derrick Michaels. They are brother and sister. You know how you feed?" he asked. I felt the blood uncontrollably drain from my face.

"No," I replied quickly. He gave me a Look. I hadn't gotten this one before; angry, scared, enchanted, murderous even, but nothing like this. Trouble's was soft and kind, like you'd give a lost puppy.

"It's fine to admit it here, Katarina. We can feel it pulsing from you." I knew my mouth was about to open in shock, so I gritted my teeth to prevent it. How did it pulse from me?

"Yes," I whimpered, swallowing a large lump in my throat.

"Rach, the fire is low. And Rick, can you get some more wood please?" Trouble asked. Rachel flicked her suntanned hand and flames shot out from each signifigantly dark tip, boosting to the height of my collarbone before settling normally. Derrick raised his hand and three logs from behind the bright giant shed flew into the fire, rearranging themselves into a better position. I gasped.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Similar to how you feed off of people's fear and pain, Katarina. We aren't human." When I looked to Trouble in confusion, he went on.

"Everyone here, including you, isn't of the human species. We retain their form, but we aren't at all related in any way to them. Our species is popular as the bad guys in pop culture, though with a different name; we are called gheists. If it helps you visualize, think of us akin to demons. Each of us has a specific power. Rach and Derrick are twins; Rachel is pyrokinetic and Rick is telekinetic. You are a Horror Gheist, which means you are a type of powerful gheist that is used as a baseline in pop culture or literature.

"You in particular feed off of the two things that plague humans the most; pain and fear. You can send people delusions and dreams of their phobias, call their fears, and suck their pain dry. The pain part helps people, prevents their prolonged suffering, but the fear grows or stops depending on your opinion of them. The only reason you've been so obviously ostracized is your lack of control. With our help, you can live amongst humans without such difficulty."

I processed this all with unnatural ease, like I'd already knew yet didn't at the same time. It answered my problems, but seemed a bit hokey. I mean, demons? Was I stuck inside a Charmed rerun? Inside I was freaking out and screaming at myself this wasn't real, but outside I managed to remain perfectly calm. I cleared my throat numerous times, feeling the stares of all the gheists on my velvet back.

"Okay," I said in a small voice. "What can everyone else do? What can you do?" Trouble swept his hand up dramatically, a white-green orb of energy appearing in his hand. Everyone took a step back as he threw it into the pit, the arm around me squeezing slightly. It exploded with a loud pop, like a gunshot. The impact brushed over my face, very pressurized and warm, but not so much that I was pushed back or scalded.

"Combustive orbing. Olisha is a shaman, carving runes and such, and Rayne can astral project. I take it you know what that is?" I nodded; reading books on all of that ESP crap was a phase for me too. He walked me past Rick and Rach to two more guys. One was very white, very angular, with a flaming red mohawk and eight piercings in each ear. He had his shirt off, exposing an indent in his upper chest. It beat with his heart; interesting.