Saturday, August 17, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 156.06

“Other than Harold? Not really, no. I used to talk to Julie a lot. She always had time for me and her work at the shop was often only part time while she looked after Lucy. We used to have a good chinwag in the mornings.”

“Has she left then?”

“She's dead, son. Harold...” The ghost hesitated and Dill wondered if it was possible for ghosts to lie. He'd always thought not, though his only experiences were through the medium of film and television where seances and ouija boards were the gateway to a bucket of theatrical blood. Was the truthfulness of spirits a medium's lie? “Harold wasn't able to save her from a backfired spell.”

“I know she's dead. I meant her spirit. Don't people generally stick around here?” Orias beeped and Dill frowned. He'd lived in Laverstone for years and he'd never heard of the HWBC Bank, despite it being registered as a building on Low Street. He tried to remember what buildings were there but all he could think of was a dilapidated furniture shop, still with the tattered 'closing down sale' notices in its grimy windows. He fed Orias another string of commands. “Like you, I mean.”

“A ghost?” Frederick shook his head. “I've not seen her. I think she must have gone straight down.” He pointed to the floor. “Nephilim become devils in the afterlife.”

“They do?” Dill glanced at Orias's screen then back at Frederick. “Who are nephilim again?”

“The sons of angels, like Harold and Julie.”

“I thought Harold's dad was a demon?”

“So he is, but demons-_”

“Are fallen angels. I remember.” Orias beeped again. “Bingo.”


Stephanie Wright said...

Ah, brilliant!

(Am a bit behind this week with the birthday, but I love this. Cleverly play but so true in many places.)

Rachel Green said...

Thank you kindly. To do like to waffle on, though.