The ghost disappears and then shortly after; I find myself in a cell filled with grizzled and miserable ghosts.
Wiping my hands on my pants, I try to clear my groggy head and summon my necromancy magic. It’s one way to distract myself, at least.
28
Silver
For hours, I sit and channel my necromancy magic. It seems to be one of the few forms of my magic that actually works here in the cell, which is a small mercy.
It also doesn’t have the same cloying, greasy feeling as when I was dealing with the zombies. Instead, it’s headache-inducing. Like pressure pushing either side of my skull.
I dig deep and draw on the darkest of my magic; it uncoils like a snake, ready to strike.
... and it slithers out of me, tendrils of something translucent that protrudes from my chest, drawn to the nearest ghost—a man wearing an all black jumpsuit who looks honestly like he’s considering stabbing me in my sleep.
When thethingsticking out of me touches him, he gasps, his mouth opening wide.
“That feels—I canfeelit. Fuck.”
I can feel it too. The pressure builds and I know I should do something—it’s like I’m holding an opposing magnet, trying to push.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
My concentration slips and the ghost grunts.
“I can’t feel it no more.”
I say the words again, even though no one seems to be listening. “You know I’ve never done this before, right? I might mess it up.”
“Look, girly. You know how long I’ve been stuck in this hole?” He snorts and spits. “Nor do I. You lose track of days and years pretty quick in here. Trapped, you know? I was a prick when I was alive. I’m still a prick today. But even if there’s nothing but quiet on the other side, that’d be better than this place.”
Alright then. I take a breath. Center myself. Try to imagine Ro is sitting beside me. My personal fount of joy. He wouldn’t let me give up, even if my head feels like it’s about to cave in on itself.
I suck up my worry and push on. Getting back to that place of push and pull is surprisingly easy. Natural.
And instead of fighting, instead of being an opposition magnet, I just... let it go. The ghost shimmers, wavers, gasps. And then disappears.
A white orb of light appears in his place and I approach it cautiously, like it’s going to attack me. Reaching forward, I gently prod the orb. It feels like something not quite solid, not quite gas. It’s somewhere in between.
The pressure in my head pops, and my shoulders loosen just as the orb resting on my palm melts. A strange, warm sensation crawls up my arm.
I feel... good.
Strong.
