Liam's Ghost Story

Liam's Ghost Story (Chapter 1)

Liam arrived in Chicago on a cold and sullen night. The city was waiting for him, hunched down quietly under a blanket of snow and icy slush. As he made his way through the streets, the electric lamps hung bleakly overhead coated with a rime of frost, trying in vain to illuminate tiny patches of dirty asphalt and frozen sidewalks. There was just enough light cast by the lamps to make the isolated figures wandering the streets realize how little of the city they were actually seeing. From time to time a car would drive by, providing a soundtrack for the city - a mechanical whirr of the engine and the crunch of snow was less than comforting to those walking along the frozen sidewalks.

He walked with hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the oppressive sky and the bitter cold biting into his flesh. Chicago wound its way around his body, pulling the warmth from his skin with patient gusts of wind and snow. The clothing he wore was not suitable for the cold, a thin and worn hoodie and hemp pants with simple sandals. He shivered, but not from the cold. He was used to the cold. He and cold had a love/hate relationship, she numbed his aches and slowed his muscles, and he avoided her whenever he could but ignored her when he could not.

Tonight he shivered because he could sense the malevolent presence of the city. He could taste on the wind the dread of what was to come, leaking through the cracks of reality. The walls that separated the world from the madness and evil were already strained with the enormity of their task - the things on the other side were always pushing, seeking a way to escape. What Liam could feel was the songs of destruction from the other side. What they said about his future made him shiver, even if he did not understand what it was he was touching.

It was perhaps seven in the afternoon, but these streets were abandoned by all but the most reckless and the most desperate. It was still unclear which category Liam fell into. He paused briefly to drop money that he could not afford into the begging cup of a man who needed it more. A kind word passed from the downtrodden soul sitting under a rough cardboard shelter up to Liam. Liam nodded and smiled down at the poor man, providing for a moment a true source of warmth in the city this night.

Half a block later, hearing sirens in the distance like the howls of the last of the dying daylight, Liam came to a stop in front of a weary brick building. The facade barely held a faded and peeling painted sign depicting what appeared to be a singing teapot and a dancing armoire. Both were smiling full grins that looked macabre and even sinister in the low light being cast from the far street lamps. No lights were on in the store, which Liam decided was some sort of antique shop, but a handwritten piece of paper, a sign, hung in the window. Only two words ordained the simple sign: "For Rent."

Liam turned to face the window, his eyes darting left and right, looking inside to seek out any evidence of life. Finding none, he turned his head first left and then right. The street was still and silent. Not a flake of snow stirred. Even the homeless man that Liam knew was on the corner not two minutes ago was no longer there.

He could not put his finger on why he had stopped here, maybe something he had smelled, or something he felt. Something about this building called to him, and the sign was a conversation starter. Liam raised his hand to knock.

As if releasing held breath, the city spat its cold indignant wind down the street once again, stirring a flurry of dry snow into a spear to send it hurtling towards the intruder. Liam hesitated only a second, shoulders tensed at the sudden change from docility to hostility of the creature around him before allowing his hand to take the downward path to rap three times on the window of the Dancing Teapot. The snow and wailing wind broke against his unbowed back, and the city subsided with a frustrated sigh.

Moments later, a window three floors above Liam's head opened, and a curious wrinkled face appeared in a slice of warm light looking down.

"Hello? Yes? May I help you?" An ancient and surprisingly robust voice issued from the experienced face up above.