The house itself was as dim as it was quiet, wafted by the strong scent of damp wood on a hot summer evening. Creaking floors swarmed its aging woodwork like the lasting remnants of termite infestation and perhaps it was, Cobwebs lined the deepest and darkest corners and covered the most vacant rooms in dazzlingly dusty silk making the house look as old as it most certainly felt like.
The two traversed its either flimsy floors or shattered woodwork from the early ages whilst in ample conversation with the living spirits that supposedly inhabited the failing home, Ms Brentley was a bumbling superstitious woman. She'd lived in a home that perhaps at some point promised quiet and good natured privacy, away from the city though close enough that it wasn't impossible to get help in time or come in contact with people in general, thirty..maybe forty years ago and perhaps the house was as stunning as she'd made it out to be, that was until the claims of the supernatural came forward in earnest.
Odd rasping noises in the middle of the night, footsteps beyond her boundless lawn at the dead of sleep and of course, possessed dolls from her childhood though she did well in burning them as soon as she'd suspected the act. All in all, the typical throes of basic supernatural activity. She unfortunately hadn't disclosed when exactly the things had started, the house was nearly as old as herself yet aged a thousand times faster from the negligence brought about by a sense of fear; why didn't she simply just move? Well, the stubborn and determined thought it impossible to find a home as perfect as the one they were in now, she was clingy, for a lack of fancily woven descriptive words.
Unfortunately for herself, the clingy were the easiest to fool, much less that she was an aging old woman. Thomas and Nera sauntered up a flight of old stairs leading to the house' attic, warning the old woman not to follow or come anywhere near the place till they were done, unsurprisingly though without much protest did she agree. The two wormed their way up the creaking stairs and into the dusty attic, the taller, blonde haired ridden figure of the two dusted at his shoulders and scanned the place before looking towards his partner, a dark skinned, silver haired woman in a similarly dark coat, white shirt and black tie. He sighed and turned his attention over the room, "Was there any reason for the clothes? We could've done this just fine without them"
Near scoffed, as though the question held little intelligence behind its desires for an answer, "Professionalism of course, this is ridiculous as it is, ghost hunters? She's an old woman but even I'd have some skepticism over our expertise if one came dressed as a bafoon and the other was some very gorgeous though seemingly street side model. It doesn't sell the act"
"Who's the bafoon..?" Nera rolled her eyes, "You're reading much too into it, point is when you want to play pretender, you treat it seriously"
He groaned, the clothes were new and slightly tight to the skin though exceptionally soft. A single touch gave a rough estimate of their price, nothing short of expensive or of the upper grade if he had miscalculated over a few areas. She gave her own outfit a short dust over the edges and walked towards the middle of the room with her hands dug into her inner coat pockets, in the silence that surrounded them now, she mouthed something towards him and gestured to the attic door. Years of having done this needed no further interpretation of what was supposed to be done, though the words not to come anywhere near the attic were as clear as day, not everyone would listen; especially that of a desperately superstitious woman.
"Hrm, right, there's definitely something here" There was no need for dramatic gestures though he found himself stomping backwards to the edge of the room, "Far from demonic I'd suspect, a trapped soul perhaps.."
The acting was a little off but they hadn't come here with a script, Nera had found it useless when the victim of their deceit was an aging old lady, chances were that any simple explanation to the causes of her plight would suffice just enough. She gave a thumbs up and knelt to the floor, producing a piece of chalk that scribbled along the ground. Sigils and symbolically looking runes were a common occurrence they'd had to get used to, two curving arc were drawn parallel to one another with an upwards smile connecting them like an 'H'. It didn't mean anything to their knowledge, not that anyone without serious knowledge into these kinds of things would know anyway. Before, they'd actually delved into the different methods and appropriate runes for actual spells till it became increasingly clear that unless the person was a maniac under the subject of the supernatural, the vast majority were pretty illiterate on the subject, eerie letters or disjointed Latin words were all that was needed to form a sense of believability. Nera continued this with fast precision and trained hands, in no longer than a minute was a vast looking array drawn along the dusty wooden surface as she rose from the ground.
"Close the curtains" She gestured towards him, there was light flushing in from windows spread along the room and especially a particular oriel window aimed towards the center of the room. Thomas nodded and walked towards each one, shutting the light from coming through and shifting a pile of cardboard boxes piled against a corner to the oriel window lacking in any curtains to properly shut anything from the outside. At the sight of this, Nera nodded and spoke again, the added flare of theatrical seriousness still present in her tone, "Unwanted guest from beyond, friend or foe, make your intentions known"
She glanced back at him, the corners of his mouth twitching as he grabbed at one of the boxes beside where he stood to the window and tossed it across the room. A loud thud sounded and the crashing of plastic junk inside it as it smashed against the floor just short of the door, there was a muffled yelp from below it but they pretended not to hear. This was the less expertly driven tricks of theirs, things like this were far more of an idiotic approach to normal people but this was someone with an actual unshakable belief in these things, they were just lucky she hadn't had the presence of mind to read too deeply into them or perhaps she trusted experts with a questionably acquired four star reputation? Neither mattered, she'd bought the first act sublimely.
"A foe? Are we to assume that you harbor ill intentions towards Miss Brentley who inhabits this home now?" Another box flew, followed by a second and a third, crashing across various areas of the room with blinding force. if they could've made it any more believable, perhaps a proper summoning of the desired spirits would have sufficed. Dark rooms, eerie sigils and dimly lit candles was the kind of atmosphere famously used, on one particular occasion she'd even made up an excuse for her partner's absence; she'd snuck him into the home prior to the summoning, home invasion? Maybe but it wasn't like they'd stolen anything.
Her voice rose in considerable volume whilst gesturing back at Thomas who began throwing the items with much more frequency, "Unbind yourself from this home and towards where you belong!!". The last of the boxes were thrown with all the force Thomas' body could muster, as fast as he could before finally everything went silent. A creaking crack of rusting steel from the attic door finally broke the falsely ridden tension as the shaking nervous jitters of aged old hands and a peeking pearl head tossed for their figures in the room, finding Thomas's broad visage grabbed around her sagging shoulders in the middle of a dusted yet still visibly discernable chalk array.
"Dears!—" Thomas held up a quick hand, "Please come no further Miss Brentley, my partner is still in a very delicate position"
The old woman paused in her desperate scrambles towards them, "R-Right!" She hesitantly answered, glancing around the mishappened room covered in the tossed boxes laid along the dusty floor, "W-Was this..its doing?"
Thomas intentionally took a dramatically short pause in response, glancing towards Nera's sagged figure, "Yes, though we weren't able to banish it completely"
Nera took the opportunity to feign a wobbled attempt to stand up, caught in Thomas' arms whilst letting out pained groans, "The..good news…Miss Brentley is that we were able to decipher just what kind of spirit is ravaging your home"
The old woman gave a reverent look of relief, "Oh dear, thank you so much" man this was such a dick move but if there was a slither of slight self inflicted guilt then the years of unorthodox acting practice hadn't made it show across their faces, Nera made a gesture that she could properly stand on her two feet for a bit though slightly winced for added dramatic effect.
"I'd refrain from thanking us just yet, if anything the spirit hasn't been exorcized from your home" Nera spoke, Thomas nodding in earnest beside her as the woman shook her head.
"No, you're the first to have believed me and seen it for your own eyes. So much help told me I'd gone insane" And perhaps she had, Miss Brentley was an eighty six year old woman on the fringes of an aging home slightly cut off from the city. In the brief background checks they did just to size up a person's gullibility they'd found a brief medical record from forty years ago detailing a few mental health issues, for all they knew she was most likely suffering from the accumulated effects of some latent schizophrenia or some trauma, as damning as they were, they most certainly weren't assholes enough to go digging through a person's personal life that obsessively; the records were mostly found on accident if anything else.
"We're grateful to have heard that, there should be no problems from here, on the better part the spirit inhabiting your home isn't a demon or some poltergeist" She voiced, walking towards her in delicate steps, "Though it would probably do good not to erase the remnants of the array we've drawn just for added temporary protection before we can perform an actual expulsion of your spectral guest"
The woman gave them a look of unfiltered gratitude as they exited through the attic door and down its hazardous wooden steps, the old woman was the first to voice a few words once they'd 'safely' made it down which Nera had hoped she'd catch on to questioning since she'd purposefully dropped the hint, "By..temporary protection, what did you mean?"
Thomas was the one to answer, glancing back with a tone laced matter- of-factly as though the answer was obvious, "We haven't fully gotten rid of the problem but we don't really have the money to deal with it directly right now"
The lady's faded azure eyes practically paled in guilt, if they were anyone else then this much would've been enough to rattle their nerves but what were a bunch of scammers doing in a business they knew would eventually become morally conflicting, "Dears, why hadn't you said so? Should I have paid upfront? How long will it take to be ready?!"
Nera nodded to each question and gave a half acted smile of sorrow, "A month on our normal collection of friends, we could try to cut it down for you Miss Brentley but we risk overlooking a few things and completely derailing the entire ritual in general"
"Though an upfront payment would've helped, that's a non issue now" Thomas took over for her, they weren't completely foreign to being assholes, the day one decided to become a crook was the day they'd labeled themselves as an ass a long time ago though they could choose who'd take up the role of being the biggest asshole in the room. Thomas' earlier misfortunes would have him being the one extorting the woman for money, Ms Brentley let out a sound of roiling self contempt and shifted from the attic stairs and across the room to the kitchen drawers laddled in a spaciously built almost empty room with long having rotten counters, old stoves and marred cupboards where she began searching for something, "I can't hope to live with this for another month, please, I'll pay this and the final payment for a full extermination tomorrow"
Nera feigned a look of pained guilt, "Please, Miss Brentley, garnering any more money from you would be—" just as she'd wanted though, the old lady interrupted and began hurriedly shuffling their way towards them with five tightly bound rolls of cash. Both their eyes nearly widened at the sight of them, dozens of hundreds packed up together for each roll.
"Take it, it's all I can give at the moment" Thomas did so in only slightly suppressed earnestness and thanked her profusely as she gave a light shake of the head, "No, thank you"
Truly not a job everyone could do, at least not when it got here. Nera nodded and made a showing of their desire to leave under the prerequisites to get started on the ritual, half fearful that the old lady's lucidity might return after forty years of reclusiveness and realize the absurdity of the money she was paying or place another morally conflicting burden on them. Thomas seemed to be in the same line of thought and readily began reciting over the contents of a later case they had on their hands as a check up from a previous success, smooth she thought so they ran with it. Ms Brentley herself, however, seemed less than inclined to let them leave but they were adamant about it. Her age old hands sifted through another drawer beside a comfy rocking chair situated in the house' living room where they'd shifted their talks after the bundles of cash, Thomas almost moved to stop her, this time really serious to decline the offer if she somehow conjured up a gold bar or something.
"Oh and please, take this" She handed them a piece of brown looking paper, aged and flimsy to the touch as though the slightest exertion of crumpling pressure would have it disintegrate from their hands. Nera was the one to gently pry the paper from the lady's grasp and give it a passing glance, there was lettering littered all over its surface and seemingly archaic runic words and..circles? Either she sensed the confusion or thought they were wondering why she'd given them such a thing so she lightly explained, "Something my late father had brought back, he'd been a fanatic of the supernatural too..said perhaps it'd been his travels that brought them here…"
Nera and Thomas glanced at each other for a moment and then nodded, "You think it might help in further understanding the necessary steps needed for the ritual" the old woman agreed. Truthfully, she wasn't wrong. To expel a spirit or an entity from beyond, one had to understand the binding reasons as to why their presence loitered around, this was common knowledge amongst people of their..profession. Similarly to how a demonic exorcism required one to know the name, origins and history of the said demonic entity, a spirit required one to know what had kept them here; grudges, regrets or even unintentional summonings which was also slightly to be the case with demonic entities, surprising how many people actually tried to dabble in the arts of summoning spawns from hell.
She silently appraised the item and gave a terse nod of approval, "Understood, we'll treat this with care" she pocketed the paper in a breast pocket within her dark trench coat before making the gesture to stand, they'd stayed as long as was actively necessary, by tomorrow morning they'd need an actual script to seal the act and call the pitying lady a good day. She nearly stood to bid them farewell at the door though Thomas stopped her, unable to take the extortion any further than this and stood beside Nera before politely bidding the woman a good day.
"You too dears" She smiled, warming enough that it was a question of who'd crack first and toss the money back; thankfully none of that happened and they had the presence of mind to turn around and head for the door, lit by two yellow flower lamps at its side as they took a creaking step forward and out into the windy night atmosphere. When the door closed shut and they began descending down the short stoop and through the woman's deep yellow lawn towards a deep grey coloured car from below did Thomas speak again.
"I feel like shit.." He sighed as she groaned with sagged shoulders, "You and me both"
They made it to the vehicle as she produced the keys whilst Thomas paused, cursing under his breath with an annoyed grunt, "Where did you get this?"
She glanced back, feigned a surprised gasp and smiled, "You mean this beauty? This 1980s Porsche 911 SC?"
"Nera…" She chuckled, raising her hands in amusement, "Relax, I caught it off an old friend who almost had the thing rotting in a shed, gave it a new paint job and a few other things"
The doors flung open as she unlocked them, seating herself inside with Thomas in toe, he gave the vehicle an appraising glare, the caramel interior with silver accented dials along the dash and tightly leather bound shifter glazed in silver at its tip. At the ensuing silence she chuckled, earning a sharp glare, "What?"
She smirked, "You like it"
"It's a waste of money.." Her eyes rolled as the keys were inserted in the ignition and turned, roaring the engine to life in what suffused to impatiently low rumbles before tearing off towards the city roads.
§
A waitress settled at their table with a large tray in hand, a cool drink and a large bottle of beer and two cheeseburgers. Nera slid the cool drink towards her with a sealed straw, tearing it open before inserting it into the plastic sealing of her cup as Thomas clicked his open with a decorative ring on his middle finger, taking a quick swig.
"Five thousand bucks, you don't think that was her retirement money or something right?" Nera voiced, sipping at the drink in hand with a slightly bemused look of concern. Thomas scoffed, leaning into his chair whilst setting the beer bottle down and grabbing for the large burger in front of him, "Probably a fraction of a deep rooted wealth, all that sitting in a kitchen drawer? Hell, what else could she have been hiding in that house"
She set the drink down and similarly took to her own burger, chuckling at the assumption, "Not every old cook in a dilapidated home is swimming in doe"
He pointed, "Dilapidated mansion and its in a pretty far off part from town"
That was true, as old and decrepit as the place looked it'd once been something enviable. She took to her drink, resting her elbow over the wooden back post whilst staring deadpan in sarcastic amusement, "An eighty six year old grandma with that much naivety doesn't place a whole lot of confidence in financial control"
"Grandparents doing most of the control?" He took a swig at the beer bottle whilst still chewing, "We never did do anymore digging than what was already on the surface"
She didn't answer, truthfully she didn't care much. They were crooks, one client to the next, one victim to the other; same thing. You lived it down more easily if you simply didn't care, at the very least they were meager crimes and nine times out of ten…eight…seven maybe and a few of them did attest to having their work quite helpful; whether that was the placebo effect or some other delusions was left to the unknown. She gave the half empty beer bottle by his side and the mostly finished burger an appraising look, "Also, does that even go together?"
He shrugged, "Force of habit, more importantly is what we're planning to do tomorrow"
She spared a disinterested gesture with her wrist and glanced outside, "Plenty of ritualistic junk at home already, same old reuse, maybe a few holy hymns and call it a day"
"You think she'll believe that?" She raised a brow at him to which he was readily reminded that their earlier theatrical display that'd have labeled them idiots from literally anyone else's viewpoint for thinking it'd work had laughably garnered them a five thousand buck bonus payment with a later payment already due the next day. He winced when this came to mind and took what was almost a final swig at the bottle, "Rephrasing it then, do we want to put in such little effort?"
Nera laughed, "Wanna dress up as a ghost for it then? It'd probably catch us an extra few bucks~"
"Shut it" The glare only sufficed in fanning the flames, sinking back into the table and the burger in front of her. They'd have to come up with something though, improvisation and on the spot acting wasn't their strong suit, neither was it a necessary risk to test the limits of Brentley's gullibility, "We'll think of something, probably snag it from a movie or something. Don't think she'll notice" she chuckled.
Thomas only gave a dry laugh, ten minutes later the restaurant doors swung open with the chilling breeze of frigid nightly winds or perhaps the past few cool drinks that'd enhanced the effects but it was cold. Nera produced the thin piece of aging coffee brown paper to Thomas' hands, amusedly trying to decipher what it all meant. It'd started after a few minutes of discussing various forms of ritualistic spells that made little sense for their intended purposes, the conversation had then shifted to the runic letters littering Brentley's old piece of paper that made as little sense to the two of them as the one's they'd drawn up on a whim whenever their 'clients' weren't so well informed. They made it to the deep grey coloured porsche, seating themselves inside as Thomas still held the paper in hand flipping between its back and front.
"Hailneris Feyshire, is this a spell?" She heard him recite, shrugging whilst inserting the keys and twisting the ignition where nothing but the sound of the gesture had echoed. A brow was raised as she twisted it back and tried again, no sound was made from the engine, not even the attempted whine's to start itself up. Thomas started to notice the ensuing silence and placed the paper down before turning to her and the dash, "Don't tell me you didn't—"
"It's common sense to fill up an empty vehicle, you know? It should be starting fine.." He shot her a disgruntled grumble, mumbling something about a waste of money whilst she turned the ignition a fourth time; this time there was a spark of something and a jolt of the car.
"Shit, it's never done this!" she grumbled, attempting at the ignition a second time though arm was grabbed at the helm by Thomas' panicked gesture, she turned and then at the piece of paper—no, the amassed array of dazzling violet sparks between emerald green and Sapphire blue covering the length of the windscreen in vast sigils and unsettling runic characters. No words were needed, the two wasted no time in clambering for the door but they wouldn't budge, "Fuck, unlock the door, Nera!!"
"I hadn't locked them yet!" She shouted back, still pushing at the door and pulling at its handles. The mass of large dazzling sigils and runic characters had spread all over the car at this point, encasing them in beautifully enrapturing light yet also an unsettling ambiguity. The car shuddered and shook, the dash sparking to life whilst the engine roared. They both glanced at each other in surprise and yet before a sigh of relief, before the sagging of their shoulders and the shock could register; themselves and the Porsche disappeared from the parking lot..