Don't give up on me ✓

[30] Agent 007

'Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind' - Dr. Seuss

Chapter 30: Agent 007

This chapter begins with a little recap... and dives into a big reveal...

Mohan was by the backdoor of the kitchen. Emily always left soap and a hose there for the family to clean themselves. I found him there, scrubbing his hands with the soap. Blood spilling in the bucket of water as he cleansed himself of what he had done. 

I asked him about the monster that bit me and he explained how they were different to us.

"They squeeze through the cracks of the earth and mainly target supernaturals," he explained, "Because they're envious of our powers. They don't have any, you see. That's what makes them so vile. We are all formed with a special purpose, with a link to nature and an intent in mind. They are the forgotten rejects of the supernatural world. No links to humanity or nature. They linger in the darkness, with no ability to love or reproduce, until some rise up into this world."

"But they do have powers. They're very strong and fast."

"No, those aren't powers. You haven't seen the half of what you can do yet."

He grimaced when he realized he had been rubbing his hands so hard the skin had begun to peel off. I watched the blood swirl in the bucket and listened to the sound of cold water running through the hose.

"I have one more question, Mohan. It's about us. Our name," I looked at him, "We must have a name."

"We do. Our kind goes by the name of Spectres."

I thought that was a movie.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Spectre

I sat in the computer lab at school. We didn't have much technology at the Manor, considering the awful cell service in that wormhole. It was intentional. The harder we were to trace, the better it was for us.

"Ok," I mumbled under my breath, taking a deep one in, "Spectre."

I typed in the 7-letter word into the search engine.

A bunch of hits turned up – all about the James Bond movie.

"I knew it was a movie," I told myself, "Probably not what he meant. Would be cool though."

I perused through images and found a bunch of James Bond ones again.

I searched harder online to find more innocuous definitions. I found the Spectre M4 – an Italian submachine gun designed in the 1980s. I found a company. But I didn't find what I was looking for. I was stuck.

"Try a different spelling," Jesper said, pulling up a chair next to me.

He had gone to grab a protein bar, even though we weren't allowed to eat in here. He spun the chair round in a smooth, easy motion and sat on it backwards. He rested his arms on the top, keeping an eye on the clock. He had football in twenty minutes.

"Maybe it's specter?" I typed it out, "t-e-r?"

A dictionary definition popped up on the first hit:

Specter [pronounced: spek-ter]
noun
(1) a visible incorporeal spirit, especially one of a terrifying nature; ghost; phantom; apparition.(2) something widely feared as a possible unpleasant or dangerous occurrence e.g. "the specter of disease or famine".

"That's not good," Jesper said.

I agreed. "I don't want to be a Specter."

"Ha. When did you have a choice?"