H. Mallory - Ghouls Rush In

I turned the water off once I was happy with my cleanliness and then stepped onto the bath rug, remembering Christopher’s instructions to allow myself to air-dry. I tried to ring the water out of my hair to aid in the drying process and then shook myself off like I was a wet dog. Even though I tried to keep myself from doing it, I glanced across at the mirror only to find it completely clean. There were no ghostly words formed from the steam of the room, and the only thing reflected back at me was my dripping self.

After another few minutes, during which time I squeegeed the water off my body with my hands and then rung out my hair once more, I figured I was as dry as I was going to get. I plopped the nightgown over my head and pulled it down over my body, the hem just dusting the floor. If not for my bobbed hair, I would’ve looked like a character from Little House on the Prairie .

Starting for the door, I made my way down the hallway and up the stairs, taking a deep breath before I walked through the double doors of my master bedroom. As soon as I did, I immediately noticed a card table in the center of the room with a white sheet covering it. On top of the table were various white bowls of God only knew what, as well as a black and a white candle, an incense burner, a bell, what looked like a dagger, and something else that looked like a small cauldron. My breath caught in my throat as soon as my gaze settled on the human skull sitting off to the side on the table. I couldn’t seem to pull my attention from the cavernous holes where its eyes had once been or the long and square teeth that decorated its jaw, making it look as if it were smiling at me.

“Lovie, are you ready?” Christopher asked. I then noticed Lovie was sitting to the right of the table, her attention on me.

She simply nodded and held out both of her hands to me. I placed my hands in hers and allowed her to pull me closer to her. She stood up and smiled at me warmly, but even so, my body was a nervous, fidgety mess. I was scared. There was no use in trying to deny it because my hands were shaking.

“We must first contact Drake so we can walk him through the ritual. We have ta have his permission before we can begin the possession,” Lovie said.

I simply nodded and wondered how in the world we were going to reach Drake. Up until now I’d only been able to converse with him in my dreams. But I had a feeling that was about to change.

“You an’ I are gonna contact him together,” Lovie continued. “Ordinarily I would contact him mahself but because you two have such a strong connection already, I believe we’ll have more luck doin’ so together.”

That made sense. “Okay.”

She led me to the chair that she’d previously occupied and pushed lightly on my shoulders to suggest that I should sit down. I did as I was instructed and folded my hands in my lap as I faced her for further directions.

“You need ta be in a receptive state,” she started, her voice lullaby soft. “In order ta do that, I want you ta close yer eyes.” I did as I was told. “Very good. Now, Peyton, I want you ta breathe slowly an’ deeply. Breathe in for a count o’ five an’ breathe out for a count o’ five. Imagine takin’ in the air that is full o’ Drake’s spirit as you expel yer spirit, which he then breathes in. You are unitin’ yerself with the air, becomin’ one with the air, such that Drake can inhale an’ exhale yer life force an’ become one with you.”

I didn’t point out the fact that as a spirit, I didn’t think Drake could breathe. I figured it was a moot point. Instead, I did as she instructed and started to feel light-headed. The more I breathed in and out, the more light-headed I became until I felt almost delirious.

“Yer fingers an’ toes, yer arms an’ legs, will begin ta tingle as you open yerself ta the spirit world. Don’t be afraid if you begin ta feel numb an’ dizzy. Trust in yer safety here. Continue ta breathe even more slowly, more deeply as you fall into the spirit trance. I want you ta now count backward from ten ta one. When you reach one, I want you ta tell yerself you are now ready ta accept Drake’s spirit, that he will flow through you,” Lovie continued in her singsong voice.

I nodded and started counting backward, my entire body feeling incredibly heavy, and then the pins and needles started in my appendages, the feeling working its way inward, up my arms and legs until it reached my core. The numbness set in by the time I reached number five and when I got to number one, I said to myself that I was ready to accept Drake.

“Are you prepared to receive him?” Lovie asked.

I simply nodded and heard the tinny sound of a bell ringing. “We have created a sacred space,” Lovie said in her strong yet beautiful voice. “Drake Montague, we are ready ta make contact with you.” She touched my hand then. “Peyton, you can open yer eyes.”

It felt like it took me seconds to open them but when I did, I watched Lovie reach for and light first the black candle and then the white one. She then placed each of them back on the table and closed her eyes as she said, “This black candle draws the spirit o’ Drake Montague that he may converse with us while the white candle shall allow him ta feast upon the energy created here.”

She then reached for a piece of paper and scribbled Drake’s name on it, placing it on what appeared to be a large pentacle that had been painted in black on the white sheet atop the table.

“As I have written Drake’s name, I summon his spirit here!” She then reached for a bottle of oil and, unstopping it, anointed her wrists, the area above her heart, her throat, her forehead, and the crown of her head before turning to me and repeating the process on me. “I consecrate mahself an’ this woman, Peyton Clark, an’ ask that Drake Montague come forth an’ receive us both!”

She then reached for a small sack and, unwinding the ties from it, bent over and sprinkled white powder on the floor around each of us and the table in a counterclockwise circle. When she was finished, she stood up and, with her face to the ceiling, announced, “This powder shall protect us from all evil an’ harmful energy. Let no spirit enter here who wishes ta do us harm. We seek only the spirit o’ Drake Montague.” She glanced back at Christopher who stood in the corner of the room, watching us. “Do you have yer protective defenses up, Christopher?” she asked.

He simply nodded so she turned to face me again. This time she reached for the dagger and, holding it with her right hand with the blade down, reached for my right hand. She wrapped my hand around the handle of the blade. “Trace a circle ’round yerself,” she instructed. As I did, she said, “By the bronze o’ this dagger, Peyton casts this circle ta defend her from any evil intentions. Let only the spirit o’ Drake Montague come forth!” She then took the dagger from me and drew a circle around herself, repeating the same mantra. She lit a stick of incense that smelled pretty musty, and we both watched the stick burn, the remnants twirling into a spent cocoon that dropped onto the holder. Once the incense had burned about halfway, she sprinkled the burnt remains onto a hunk of charcoal sitting on the tabletop. She then raised the charcoal brick directly in front of her, then to her right, then to her left before she turned around and held it up once more. Each time she switched directions, she said, “Let this sacred incense summon the spirit o’ Drake Montague. Come forth!”

Then, using her right hand, she picked up what looked like a branch of a tree and tapped the crown of the skull three times, saying, “We conjure the spirit o’ Drake Montague ta come forth with this branch o’ the yew tree!”

She placed the yew branch onto the table and then picked up a glass of water, pouring it into the cauldron that was sitting on the table. She opened a jar of honey and plopped a wooden spoonful into the water, following suit with what looked like a small bowl full of olive oil, milk, and red wine. Then she sprinkled a handful of barley into the cauldron and said, “Let these offerin’s please the spirit o’ Drake Montague so he shall come forth!”