Maryn

Chapter 3 - Who You Gonna Call?

I don't think it's possible for anyone to simply stay in bed upon catching the scent of fresh coffee in the morning. For the past few months, it has been my only motivation to actually leave my room. After last night, though, I had enough energy to bounce off the walls. Feeding off a soul was like an injection of caffeine straight into your bloodstream. Getting a cup of the morning drug was a bonus.

Upon entering the kitchen, I was met with a puzzled look instead of the coffee my senses had promised.

"Where were you last night?" Matthew asked, sipping his fresh cup of joe.

He was still in his button up blue pajamas. Seeing him like this was nothing if not a rarity. Normally he was already primped and donning a sleek black suit by 7:00am.

"Just out on the town, nothing special," I said with a wave of my hand. I felt his eyes burning into my skin as I rummaged through the cupboards.

"I didn't hear you come home." Matthew's tone was flat, yet full of suspicion.

"I'm pretty sure you could sleep through anything. Remember that tornado last year? You would have been flying through the air with a witch on a bicycle if I didn't wake you up."

"You're exaggerating."

"Am I wrong though?"

"Maryn, where did you really go after we talked?"

I held out my hands instinctively in defense.

"Does it matter? You're my friend, not my parent, relax."

"And as your friend, I was concerned." His furrowed brows almost left his eyes in a shadow.

I set the ceramic mug on the counter with a thunk and propped myself back against the counter.

"Dude, come on. Do you really want to know?"

He shook his head briefly in annoyance and sighed, taking another sip. After he set the cup down, he leaned forward, hands clasped.

"I got an email last night," he said.

"Oh?"

"A man named Mr. Henry has concerns over a supposed paranormal entity in his home. He wants us to check it out."

"Yes! Oh man, I thought we'd be waiting months for our next assignment!"

Matthew smirked, finally lightening up.

"Did he give much detail on what was going on? Is it a potential demon?"

Matthew slid his laptop over and logged on. He spun it around and I was met with paragraphs of text.

"Didn't seem like it. It's probably another poltergeist."

"Lame."

Matthew typically left the majority of the ghostly cases to me. It gave me a rush, but nothing quite like the heart thumping adrenaline I got from hunting demons. But as he knew, I'd take anything I could get.

I scanned over the black text, taking note of the broken up grammar and jumbled sentences. This man had been rather frantic when writing the email. He had described feelings of being watched (typical), sleep walking (common), and frequent memory loss (intriguing). Mr. Henry went into detail about how things in his home had been moved around from their original locations, as well as feelings of lethargy. However, what caught my eye was his description of a voice in his head. Interesting.

"Alrighty, when are we heading out?" I asked, shutting the laptop.

"Tonight. Afterwards, we're heading to the church. Your weapons need to be blessed."