Chapter 2: July

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Larry would not, in fact, be the next victim of David's revenge campaign. Larry, it turned out, had gone off to summer camp for a week, and David was not willing to sit and wait for him to return before getting some justice for his death, or his unlife, or whatever it was.

The next person on the list was Sam Blevins, the student body president and leader of the high school's social elite. It took a little digging, but he'd managed to find Sam's address.

When David had decided to get his revenge, he had to come up with a plan. He had decided to take from each of the boys something that they cherished as much as he had loved being alive, as opposed to being... whatever he now was.

In Sam's case, the only thing David knew he had was social status. And so, David had to come up with a way to humiliate Sam. It had taken an extra day for him to figure out how to do that, but he now had his plan.

All that was left was to execute it.

David was sitting in the back of Sam's car, waiting. He knew that Sam would eventually come out and go somewhere, and David needed him to be in public for his plan to work. He had been sitting in the car for three hours already, which was deathly boring, but he had nothing better to do with his time.

Finally, Sam came out and got into the car, starting it up and pulling out into traffic.

David could not resist. "Hello, Sam," he said in a conversational voice that wasn't at all spooky. Or wouldn't be, if it hadn't seemingly come from thin air.

Sam's head whipped around, and the car swerved slightly, before Sam got it and himself under control. He faced forward, and didn't acknowledge the voice he'd heard.

David grinned. "It's customary, when someone says hello to you, to respond in kind."

Sam gripped the steering wheel more tightly, and continued not to say anything. His eyes remained fixedly ahead, focusing on the traffic.

"Well, I see, that's the way it's going to be. Well, I don't mind. Eventually you'll talk to me. Until then, well... I may occasionally say a word or two to you."

Sam couldn't keep himself quiet. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

This time, it was David's turn to remain quiet. He wasn't ready to reveal himself.

Oh, perfect, David thought as Sam pulled his car into the mall parking lot. There could not be a better place for David's plan than this. He only hoped that Sam was meeting friends here.

Sam got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. David kept pace unseen, but not unheard. He kept his voice low, however, as anyone could hear him, not just Sam.

"Planning a fun day of shopping, are we?"

"Fuck off," Sam hissed.

"Oh, come now. That's no way to treat your new Siamese Twin, now is it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sam asked, too loudly. A head or two swiveled in his direction.

"I'm your new best buddy. I'm going to stick with you from now on."

Sam, realizing where he was, did not respond. David let him go for a while; he didn't want to make him go back home. Sam entered the mall, and walked along, rather less confidently than usual. When they got near the food court, Sam waved to someone. David looked, and saw Bunny Peterson. David knew that Sam and Bunny - which was her real, given name - were a couple.

Oh, this is perfect.

The couple met and kissed, and Sam did his best to forget about the voice. David let him; it would have more of an effect if David was not keeping up a running stream of commentary.

As the two sat, having lunch, David got a mischievous idea. He knelt down and ran his hand along Bunny's shin. He felt her actually push against him.

"Not here, you horndog," he heard Bunny say to Sam. "Wait until after the movie!"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked in confusion.

"You know what I'm talking about, Sexy. Stop playing footsie with me."

"I'm not touching you," Sam said, which was totally true; his feet weren't even close to her.

"Right, Sam. Whatever. Just knock it off, okay?"

"Uh... yeah."

David had already straightened up, and he whispered in Sam's ear, "She's got great legs, too."

"Shut the fuck up," Sam hissed without thinking.

"What did you say to me?" Bunny demanded.

"Shit!" Sam blurted. "I wasn't talking to you, I was... uh, er, I mean... never mind, I was kind of thinking out loud about something."

Bunny gave Sam a look of skepticism, and then dug back into her sesame chicken.

-----

Once the couple moved into the movie theater, David grinned. In the dark, he knew, his taunts would be even more effective.

After the movie had been running for ten minutes or so, David leaned down and whispered into Sam's ear, "I know that you're a murderer, Samuel."

Sam sat bolt upright in his chair and looked around. The voice had been clear as day, yet there was clearly no one nearby who could have said anything.

"What?" Bunny asked, annoyed at being jostled.

Sam shook his head, and then settled back, putting his arm around her again.

David leaned back down. "The police don't know, but I know. And I will never let you forget what you have done."

Sam looked around again, his actions more sedate, but David could see the panic in his eyes. David let that fester for a little while.

"You will pay for what you have done, Samuel," David said as the movie was nearing its end. Sam shuddered, and Bunny noticed.

"What the fuck is your problem?" she snarled under her breath.

"Nevermind," Sam said, his voice a little shaky.

David grinned, and waited for the movie to end. Once it did, Sam and Bunny quickly left the theater.

"We going up to makeout point now, Sexy?" Bunny asked Sam.

"Sure thing. Just let me make a pit stop first."

David followed Sam into the men's room. There was no one in there, and David planned to take advantage of that.

"David says hello, Samuel."

"Look, who the fuck are you?" Sam demanded into thin air.

"Someone who knows the truth, Samuel. Someone who knows, and will make sure you are punished for your misdeeds."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Sam lied, his voice quivering. He could barely piss, he was shaking so badly.

"Yes you do, Samuel. You left David there to die. You did nothing to help him. You didn't even place an anonymous call for an ambulance. You killed him."

"No! I didn't! It wasn't me, anyway!"

"You were there, there's no point in denying it, Samuel."

"But it was Larry's idea! And, anyway, David's fine! Jenny said so!"

"Jenny was wrong. Dead wrong. She has already been punished for her part in David's death." David was timing his words based on Sam's peeing. It was clear that he was nearly finished. "And now it's your turn," David said. He faded into visibility, but still as a ghost, behind Sam. There was a mirror on the wall in front of Sam, who could now clearly see David, as a ghost.

Not thinking, Sam spun around in a panic, but as soon as David saw him start to turn, he faded out of existence again. He was glad of this, as Sam, it turned out, was not at all done peeing, and a good portion of it landed on the floor behind David.

"It is your turn to suffer the consequences, Samuel," David said, his voice growing malevolent.

"No!" Sam screamed. "It was Larry's idea! And Paul's the one that made all the noises. All I did was help them wire the house!"

"You're guilty, Samuel. Guilty of murder!" David intoned, his voice sounding more and more evil.

"I'm not! I didn't kill you! No!" The door to the bathroom opened as another mall shopper walked in. Sam bolted out the door, completely oblivious to the fact that he had not zipped up, or, in fact, put his dick back in his pants. David ran after Sam, who was tearing through the mall now, trying to get away.

David finally caught up to him, and got close as they were both running. He said, "You cannot escape me by running, Samuel Blevins. I will have my revenge!"

Sam ran even harder... and then he ran headlong into the back of a young girl. They both collapsed to the ground, and the girl screamed in surprise.

The girl was wearing a skirt, and it had ridden up her legs as Sam fell on top of her. His dick, still hanging free of his pants, pressed between her legs, and she felt it.

"Get off me! Help!"

As Sam struggled to get up off the girl, her mother came charging out of the store. "What the hell are you doing to my daughter!" she demanded. As Sam rose to his feet, the woman saw his dick hanging out of his pants. "You... you... RAPIST!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She swung her purse at Sam, clocking him upside the head and making him dazed and lightheaded.

Sam staggered, and he saw the crowd gathering. He looked down, and finally realized his dick was exposed for the world to see. He reddened, and turned to the woman. "I didn't! I mean, I wouldn't! It's a mistake!" he screamed while stuffing his dick into his pants.

A new voice spoke up. "Yeah, it's a mistake, all right, buddy. Shit, how stupid do you have to be to try to molest a little girl right in the fucking middle of the mall? You're coming with me. Ma'am, we'll need you and your daughter to come along to the security office, to file a report."

"Of course, officer," the woman said. She glared daggers at Sam, who hung his head, knowing that everyone was staring at him, that everyone would think he was a child molester...

And that he couldn't tell the truth to anyone.

David walked away grinning. There was no way in hell that this would not be talked about all over town by the end of the day, and Sam wasn't going to live it down. He either admitted to hearing a disembodied voice, which would put him in the loony bin, or he accept his status as a child molester, which would list him as a sexual predator for life.

One down, two to go. And Larry, I will have to find a special form of hell for you to endure, for concocting the whole thing.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

David gave himself a couple days to rest after humiliating Sam. Mainly, he wanted to see how effective it had been. A few discreet, not to say invisible, eavesdropping sessions among his former classmates proved that everyone was talking about how Sam had snapped and then attacked the little girl. He had finally blurted out to someone that he had seen a ghost and was running in fear, but since David's parents still insisted that David had "left town", no one believed him.

And to top it off, Bunny was already going out with someone else.

David smiled in victory as he walked along the road to Paul's house. Paul Mason was the star wide receiver on the high school football team, and it was rumored that he had a full sports scholarship to the University of Arizona.

David hustled along, as he saw Paul leaving his house. David slipped into the car once more. He wasn't going to do to Paul what he had done to Sam. Paul didn't have a lot of social status, despite being a star football player. He was included in the "in" crowd by that measure alone, and no other.

Paul prized only two things: football, and his car. David knew what he was going to do, but he wasn't yet sure quite how. That was why he was riding in the back of Paul's car; he needed to find his chance.

For the next three days, David rode in Paul's car, looking for the perfect opportunity. It happened on Sunday.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

Late Sunday afternoon, Paul and his unseen tagalong drove out of town, down a long, dirt road. There were trees on the right, and they passed a cemetery on the left. David looked at that and grinned. He wondered if he should be hanging out there, but decided he much preferred the motel.

Finally, Paul pulled his car into a driveway and turned off the car. The house they were at was only one block off a main street. David had to wonder why Paul had taken such a circuitous route to get here. He hustled to follow Paul into the house.

"Hey, Grams," Paul said to the elderly lady who lived in the house. The lady, obviously his grandmother, greeted him with a warm kiss on the cheek and a hug. David found this mushy and irrelevant. He knew that Paul Mason was capable of leaving a dying person without lifting a finger to help.

"Were you able to get any done during the week?" Paul asked his grandmother.

"Only a little bit. I was a bit under the weather, and then with my visits and such..."

"I understand. Should we get started on it?"

"I love that you're so eager, Paul," she said. "Most boys your age wouldn't want anything to do with it."

"Yeah, well... I do make sure they don't find out. If they did, I'd never live it down. But I really like quilting with you, Grams."

David had to work very hard not to laugh. Paul Mason, star wide receiver for the football team, spent his Sunday evenings quilting with his grandmother! Priceless!

It certainly explained the route they'd taken to get here... and the one he would surely take to get back home. It was the perfect opportunity that David had been waiting for. He slipped out of the house and walked back down the road Paul had driven to get here. David waited for him at the cemetery.

-----

When it got to be nine o'clock, David began to wonder if Paul had taken another route. He could not have driven by on this one, or David would have seen him, despite the rain that had started falling an hour before. It showed no signs of letting up, and that suited David just fine. He wasn't getting wet, and the atmosphere only enhanced his plan. He decided he'd wait another hour before heading back to the grandmother's house to check.

It turned out that this was not necessary. It was only twenty minutes later when David heard the throaty sound of the Camaro's engine as it came up the road. David stepped into the middle of the road, still completely invisible. He saw the lights, but they were still much too far away. He had to time this just right if he wanted it to work.

David waited with building anticipation as the car got closer and closer. When he felt it was just close enough, he faded to visibility, but not solidity. He wasn't crazy.

David could see the shocked look on Paul's face, even in the dark. The car swerved wildly on the wet road, but Paul was driving much too fast to stop, and much too fast for the circumstances, really. The car spun, hurtling straight through David, and smacking into a tree at the side of the road at seventy miles an hour.

David approached the car. He had to see the aftermath, to make sure that Paul was not dead or dying. He saw that the air bags had deployed, and Paul's head was rolling from side to side as he moaned.

"Mr. Mason, this is OnStar. Our system reports that you have had an accident. Do you need assistance?"

"Can't... move... my leg. Stuck," he said.

"We'll get an ambulance on the way to your location immediately."

"Gotta find... who I hit," he said in a daze.

"There was someone else involved in the accident? Do they need help, too?"

"Don't know... have to... musta hit him..."

"We will let the paramedics know. I'll remain on the line with you until they arrive, Mr. Mason."

"'kay."

David walked away at that point. It was clear that Paul would be all right. It was also clear that his car would not. The front of it was completely crushed by the impact, and the frame appeared to be bent.

David got about a hundred yards before he turned around and headed back. He decided he wanted to see what Paul would say about the accident to others.

-----

It was a few hours before Paul was capable of saying anything that was at all interesting to David. His airbags and seat belt had protected him from the accident, but the hospital had felt the need to poke, prod, and generally annoy Paul until they were satisfied they knew everything that was wrong.

"Mr. Mason, Mrs. Mason," the doctor said, acknowledging them and then, because he was already eighteen, speaking directly to Paul, "Paul, you were pretty lucky. How fast were you going?"

Paul shrugged. "Too fast, I guess. I don't know how fast, exactly."

"Well, you broke your arm. No big thing there, it will heal. It just takes time.

"Your knee, on the other hand, is a different matter. It looks like it got caught under the steering column and crushed. It will require extensive surgery."

"Doc, I've gotta play football in the fall. Am I gonna be good to go by then?"

The doctor got a pained expression on his face. "Son, I'm not going to sugar coat this. I don't think that's what you want me to do. There is virtually no way you will ever set foot on a football field as a player again. You will be very lucky if you don't need a cane to walk. Along with the knee injury is some swelling in your lower spine. Now, there is no danger of paralysis, but it is certainly going to affect your mobility."

"Won't the swelling go away?" Paul's father asked.

"In time, yes. But the damage it is doing... has already been done. And that will not go away."

Paul actually started to cry then. David almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

After a minute or two, Paul asked, "What about the other guy?"

"I thought you were alone," his mother said.

"Not in the car... the one I hit."

"What are you talking about?" the doctor asked.

"The guy I... I mean, I had to have hit him... there wasn't really time to stop. That's why I swerved and lost control. He came out of fu...freakin' nowhere! I mean, it was like, one minute the road was empty, and the next minute, there was a guy standing in the middle of the road, right in front of me! He looked weird, like... all lit up, but I mean, that was probably just the headlights, or maybe I imagined that part... but I mean, he was right there in the road... if I hit him, he's gotta be dead or in real bad shape..."

"They didn't bring anyone else in with you," the doctor said. "The officers didn't mention another victim."

"He's gotta be out there, doc," Paul insisted.

"I'll tell them to check," the doctor assured Paul. "Now, I'll let you and your family talk. I'll be back to see you later."

David walked out with the doctor. He'd seen all he needed to.

Two down, one to go.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"What is it, Joe?"

"Thought you ought to see this, Chief," Joe said, plopping something down on his desk.

"An Earth newspaper? What for?" The Chief knew that all Earth papers were routinely scanned for items that might be of interest to the Rimohrs, but he was rarely bothered with one.

"Check out the story on the front page. Bottom right."

Chief Bazarevsky quickly scanned the article, flipping to find the remainder of the story. Once done, he set it down. "So?"

"The kid swears he saw someone standing in the road."

The Chief shrugged. "And that someone probably crawled off to die in peace."

"Chief, they didn't find any tracks in the mud. None. There were no footprints. IF there was someone there, and this kid is more than positive that there was, then they weren't a normal human. I checked; there aren't any wizards known to be living in the area."

"So he was passing through or whatnot."

"And causing a car crash with serious injuries. Also, look at the story on the bottom left."

The chief read over it. It was an article about a boy who had been sentenced to a mental hospital for treatment after sexually assaulting a young girl. The chief put the paper down. "I don't see the connection."

"If you read the entire article, it says that the boy swears that he was being chased by a ghost. These are weird stories for teenagers to be making up, especially if they're trying to stay out of trouble. If both these boys are telling the truth, there's someone running around out there causing trouble. That's something to look into, isn't it? "

The Chief sighed. Joe had been on the job for all of six weeks, and he was eager to make his first case. This looked to be a wild awk chase, but if it kept the rookie occupied...

And besides, it would get him some field experience without the danger of him getting hurt.

"All right, Garibaldi. Tell your partner that I told you to look into it. Just don't go killing anyone, okay?"

"Yes, sir!" Garibaldi said smartly, and turned to leave the office.

"I hate rookies," Bazarevsky said good-naturedly, once Joe had left.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

David took a couple days off, just to take a break. He was in no real hurry. He wanted to have his plan for Larry all figured out before he acted. Since Larry had been the mastermind behind the entire plan that had gotten David killed, David wanted to make sure that his repayment was suitable.

Finally, David was ready. He met Larry in his car, as had become his custom with his victims. At least, with his male victims. He still remembered his evening with Jenny fondly.

Larry worked all summer for a veterinarian's office. He took care of the cats and dogs, keeping the cages clean and letting the animals exercise. David knew that this was going to test his endurance, as the animals seemed to universally hate him in ghost form. He didn't know why, but in this case, he planned to use that to his advantage.

David did not announce his presence to Larry on the drive in to work. He sat silent in the back seat, merely tagging along. He accompanied Larry into the building, and still said nothing as Larry signed in and said hello to his coworkers.

Finally, Larry headed toward the back, where all the animals were. David steeled himself for what was to come. He walked right behind Larry, completely invisible, at least to people. The dogs, however, seemed quite able to sense his presence. The entire back room set to barking at once, their hair standing on end. Several backed into the corners of their cages, while others pushed against the front, trying to get at David.

David wasn't afraid of them, for they could do nothing to him, but he didn't like being barked at. He was growing weary of all the animals acting this way. He screamed at them, "Yah!" He knew that Larry could, theoretically, hear him, but with all the noise in the back room, he doubted anyone could hear anything less than a nuclear explosion.

"Calm down, you guys!" Larry hollered. The dogs paid him no mind. So long as David was there, they continued to bark. Larry sighed and started his work.

After about a half hour, David left the doctor's office. He didn't go far, though. He wanted to make sure that Larry was thoroughly tormented. He merely needed a break from the ringing in his own ears.

Shortly before lunch, David headed back into the doctor's office. All the dogs and cats in the waiting room hissed or barked at him, but he ignored them. He was looking for Larry.

He found him out back, running dogs in the dog run. As soon as David showed up, however, the dogs all began to bark at him and charge him. David used this to his advantage by standing right in front of Larry. All Larry saw were upset dogs running at him. He backed against the fence, but David continued to be right in front of him. Two of the larger dogs passed right through David and collided with Larry, knocking him to the ground.

The dogs, of course, didn't attack Larry, as it wasn't him they were after. David made a note of this as he left the dog run area and passed out of sight of the animals.

Interesting. So they're not mad with anger or anything. It really is me they're after.

Throughout the afternoon, David continued to pop in and out of the vet's office, harassing Larry with the wild barking of dogs and hissing of cats. Larry wound up with three deep scratches on his arm from a cat who was trying to get to David at an inopportune moment. Inopportune for Larry, that is.

Finally, the day wound down and Larry left. David left, too, walking to his home in the motel. Now that he knew exactly which vet Larry worked at, he would simply pop in and out as he saw fit. A few days of this should have Larry crawling up a wall at the noise. Then, he'd be ready for the coup de grace.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

The two entered the cemetery side by side.

"You done anything like this before?" Joe asked.

"A few times. You took Umbrasocius in school, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?"

"My marks were not the best."

"Great."

"So... what do we do first?"

The other man stepped into a clear area and raised his hands away from his body, in an open gesture of welcome and friendship. "My name is Bill Sheridan. My partner is Joe Garibaldi. We would like to speak to any spirit present."

Bill lowered his arms, but nothing happened. Joe looked at him in dismay.

"Now what?" Joe asked.

"Now we wait. Just because they aren't showing themselves, doesn't mean they're not here. They'll show up in their own time, for their own reasons. You really didn't pay attention in Umbrasocius, did you?"

"I didn't think I'd really need it. I mean, c'mon, who needs Ghost Relations, anyway?"

"You do, if you want to get information they have."

"I guess."

Shortly after their exchange, a ghost emerged from behind a large stone monument. Joe jumped, startled.

"Settle down," Bill warned him. To the ghost, Bill said, "Hello. Thank you for answering our request."

"What is it you want?" the ghost asked.

"We are Rimohrs. We are seeking some information about a mysterious accident that happened near here."

"You mean the car crash?" a voice said from behind them. Both Rimohrs jumped this time.

Joe turned to see the ghost of a young lady. "Uh, yeah. Did you see it?"

"I did," she said, nodding.

Bill asked, "Can you tell us what you saw?"

"The car was driving way too fast. And then he appeared, poof! And the car swerved, but went right through him. But then he vanished again."

"Who is 'he'?" Joe asked politely.

"I don't know," the girl said. "Do I look like a school yearbook to you?"

"But you say he appeared, and disappeared... do you mean that he teleported himself?" Bill didn't know how that would be possible.

The ghost girl shook her head as she faded out. "He appeared," she said from nowhere, and popped into existence right in front of them. "And then he disappeared," she said, and popped out of sight in the blink of an eye.

"You mean, he was a ghost?" Joe asked.

"He cannot have been one of us," the other ghost said, finally entering the conversation.

"Can you tell me why not?" Bill asked politely.

The older ghost gestured, pointing to the road where the accident happened. "Your car crash occurred out there, beyond the gate. The junction between Haven and Earth does not extend that far."

Joe and Bill looked at each other, and both of them got chills. Bill turned to the ghost.

"Let me make sure I understand what you're saying. You can be visible and audible to us here, in the cemetery, but if you walk outside the gate, we would no longer be able to see you?"

"That is correct. While we can move beyond these gates, we cannot interact with your world outside this window... or another like it."

Bill had heard all of this in his training in college, in the class called Umbrasocius, or less formally, "Ghost Relations", but it was still a little hard for him to fathom.

To the ghost, he said, "So, if something that appeared and disappeared as a ghost can, did so out there, then..."

"Then it was no mere ghost," the older ghost replied.

Bill turned to Joe. "Oh, shit."

"What is it?"

"We stumbled onto a good one here. It looks like we've got a demighost on our hands. We're going to have to check back at the department, and see if any are known to be in this area. If not, it might be an unregistered one." Turning back to the ghosts, he said, "Thank you, both of you, for your help. We appreciate it very much."

"Will you hurt the boy?" the younger ghost asked.

"The boy... the one in the car, you mean?" Bill asked her.

"No, the other one. Him."

"We will try not to. Why?"

"He was cute," she said, and giggled as she faded into nothingness.

Joe and Bill looked at each other. Bill shrugged. "Let's get back to the office ASAP."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

For three days, David had tormented Larry, but he had also started to prepare for the final day. This had meant finding a specific dog. The problem for David was that the dog he chose would almost certainly be put down after the event. David had settled on a Rottweiler, because he didn't like them. They were big, ugly, and while he was sure some of them were quite sweet, every one he had ever met had been downright mean.

David walked in right behind Larry that morning, as he had been doing. The animals, as usual, went berserk. Larry sighed, resigned to his new fate. He was not prepared to have the supplies knocked off his work cart.

"What the hell was that?" he asked no one. Cursing, he bent down to pick up the supplies, and David kicked his feet out from under him. Larry landed on the floor, nearly smacking his face into the tile.

"Fuckin' son of a bitch," Larry said, picking himself up off the floor. He dusted himself off, and then got the supplies. David let him get up this time. As Larry set to work with other animals, David went over to the dog in question. It was fitting, David thought, that the owner of this dog had unimaginatively named him Cujo.

David made faces at the dog, who slammed against the front of his cage, trying to get to David. David passed through the cages, so that he was behind Cujo, who immediately turned and lunged at him. This did no good for Cujo, as David was completely insubstantial at the time, and Cujo went right through him, slamming into the back of his pen.

David taunted the dog for a couple more minutes, and then he headed away, back toward Larry. The dog that Larry was currently dealing with started snarling and snapping, catching Larry on the hand by mistake.

"Ow! Fuck!" Larry cursed. He pulled his hand away and looked at it. It wasn't bad enough for him to worry about at the moment. David knew that he'd have a lot worse to concern himself with in a minute.

Larry worked on a few more dogs, all of whom were irritable, snappy, and barking. Finally, however, it was Cujo's turn.

Larry had no fear of Cujo. The dog, while aggressive, had never really been a problem. At the moment, Cujo was calm, as David was standing behind Larry, who was obscuring him from Cujo's sight.

Once Larry opened the cage, however, and was reaching down to clip a lead onto Cujo's collar, David leaned forward, poking his head right through Larry's. David's face came through Larry's, and then David made himself visible, disorienting Larry entirely.

"What the hell..." Larry said, but that was all he had time for.

Cujo, seeing the face of his tormentor and driven mad by the days of taunting and teasing, lunged for David. David stayed put, and Cujo lashed out with teeth and claws. He bit down, and felt real flesh beneath his teeth. That the flesh he was biting into was not David's, but Larry's, the dog was too far gone to care.

David had to remain roughly in line with Larry, or the dog would realize too soon that it was attacking the wrong person. As Larry was thrown backward by the dog's attack, David jumped to roughly the same spot, keeping his face in the dog's eyes.

Larry was screaming and pounding at the dog, trying to get him off. His face was a bloody mess as Cujo continued to scratch and bite, claw and snap.

David turned his head, so that now he was facing Larry. Cujo was still attacking, lost in his rage. David could see that Larry was aware, however.

"Did you forget about me, Larry? You certainly did that night. But now you will live with the ugliness you created. Forever."

Just as the door to the front opened, David faded into invisibility. Cujo was forcibly pulled off of Larry by three vet techs, and manhandled back into his pen.

One of the techs ran to the phone and called an ambulance. Another held Larry down.

"Don't move, Larry. It's... it's bad."

"Oh, god... what did we do?" was all Larry could say.

David walked out of the office, silently whistling a tune to himself. The one thing Larry had, the one thing he had always prized, was his looks. He had bragged that he could get any girl out of her panties with just a smile.

I doubt they're going to be jumping to join you in bed now, you miserable fuck, David thought to himself. The damage to Larry's face had been extensive. David had made sure to focus Cujo's aggression in that area. Scarring was almost a guarantee. And if it turned out that the plastic surgeons could fix what had been done... well... David could always revisit the case.

As he walked home, now whistling out loud and visible, he had but one question on his mind.

Now what?

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Sorry this took so long, but we've been backed up with requests lately. Some days I wish for those weird gadgets the Earthers use," the clerk said.

"You mean those computer things?" Bill asked, clearly showing his distaste.

"That's them. Awful, monstrous gadgets, what with all that folderol inside, but there are days..."

"And I'm sure they wish for a magic filing system, to ease the pain of their computer woes," Joe said confidently.

"Yes, probably so," the clerk said with a grin. "Anyway, here is your report. There is only one registered demighost within a thousand miles of that spot, and he lives quite close."

"Probably him, then," Joe said immediately.

"I imagine not," the clerk said, bursting Joe's bubble.

"Why not?" Bill asked.

"The demighost in question, Jacob Pendergrast, is imprisoned by a curse. He cannot walk the Earthly realm anymore."

"Still, we'd better check him out," Sheridan said.

"All the information is in here," the clerk told them, handing over the small, folded packet of parchment.

As the clerk walked away, Sheridan took out his wand. Pointing it to the center of the parchment, he said softly, "Impendo ostendossum." The packet started to unfold from its small, two-inch cube size, to a full-sized folder. The folder grew to an inch thick, and then writing filled the pages.

Garibaldi shook his head in wonderment. "That spell still amazes me. When do I get authority to do that?"

"Only agents can access the files. When you become an agent, you'll be able to do that."

Garibaldi grumped, "Being just an officer sucks."

Bill laughed as he began to riffle through Pendergrast's file. "This guy's had quite a life."

"Troublemaker?"

"Briefly, a few hundred years ago."

"A few hundred years ago?" Garibaldi repeated in dismay.

"He is a demighost..."

"I guess. Should we go out and talk with him?"

"We're going to have to. But be ready. He's not likely to be all that helpful. If he's been imprisoned for..." Bill checked the records, "Some hundred fifty years, he's probably pretty bitter and annoyed. Try not to piss him off."

-----

The two agents entered the house on Spooner Street. They looked around briefly, taking things in. Once they entered the sitting room, they stopped. The pile of debris on the floor had not moved, and there was a stain of blood on a pointed piece of brass, which had, it appeared, once been attached to a large animal cage.

"There was a death here," Garibaldi said.

"Yeah," Sheridan agreed. Raising his voice, he called out, "Jacob Pendergrast, my name is Agent Bill Sheridan. My partner is Officer Joe Garibaldi. We are Rimohrs. We need to speak to you. Are you here?"

"I am always here," said a soft voice right beside Sheridan. Sheridan jumped sideways.

"Please do not do that!" Bill emphasized. "Could you show yourself, please?"

"I'm afraid I'm no longer capable of doing that," Jacob told them sorrowfully.

"Oh," Bill said. "Sorry."

Jacob did not reply.

Garibaldi finally butted in. "We're looking for an unregistered demighost. He caused an accident outside of town. Do you know anything about that?"

There was silence. Sheridan looked at Garibaldi.

"What?" Joe asked plaintively.

Finally, there was a response. "I do not know about the accident."

"But you do know about the demighost," Garibaldi pressed. "We've seen the damage in the other room. If someone died here, then-"

"If they were the first to die in my presence, then yes, they would become like me, only free to wander where they saw fit. Yes, Officer Garibaldi, a young man died here last month."

"And you didn't tell us?" Garibaldi demanded.

"I am not obligated to report anything to your department, Officer Garibaldi. The young man in question needed some time to adjust."

"You may be right, Mr. Pendergrast," Bill said, shooting Garibaldi a warning eye. "But his adjustment period is now officially over. Where can we find him?"

"I do not know. I have not seen him in weeks. I would assume he is close by. He seemed to harbor a need for vengeance against those who caused his undeath."

"The car crash," Garibaldi said to Sheridan.

"There would be others. There were three boys here, and he mentioned a female to me."

"What's his name?" Bill asked politely.

Jacob did not hesitate. "David Stroud." Though David had never given his last name, Jacob had his own resources to draw upon. He knew that David might see his passing this information on to the Rimohrs as a betrayal, but Jacob knew it was time for David to start his new life.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Pendergrast," Sheridan said.

"I have a great deal of that, and not much else," Jacob said, and then a soft wind-like sound indicated he had gone.

"Fuck that was creepy," Garibaldi said once they were outside. "Now what?"

"Now we look for abandoned buildings in the area. We also check for other odd happenings. It may take us a few days, but we'll find him."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

David had returned to his peeping. He had little else to do, and this kept him occupied. He wondered what he was supposed to be doing, but then figured there wasn't much of a rule book for dead people.

On this, he was wrong.

As the sun rose, David made his way back to his motel. He went into the room he had been staying in, and closed the door. He had not noticed the two men hiding in a dark alley across the street.

As David sat down on the bed, there was a sharp knock at the door. David figured it was a cop who had seen him enter. He was both right and wrong.

When David opened the door, he was presented with two men wearing long black coats. One of them was wearing sunglasses, and was about two inches taller than David. The other was roughly David's height, and younger than the first.

"David Stroud?" the man with the sunglasses asked.

It was only at this point that David noticed the strange symbol on each man's coat. It was a stylized hawk, and in the center of the hawk's tail was a gem, which gave off a faint blue-white glow.

David backed up as he said, "Who wants to know?"

The two men entered the room, and the younger man closed the door behind them. David continued backing away.

"Agent Sheridan, Officer Garibaldi. Rimohrs. You are David Stroud?"

"Yeah..." David said, continuing to slowly move further away from them.

"You need to come with us," Sheridan said.

"Why?" David asked reasonably.

Garibaldi answered. "Unlawful use of magic."

"I haven't used any freakin' magic," David said, reaching the back wall of the room.

Sheridan said, "Your existence is a use of magic."

"So, I'm to be imprisoned just because I exist? No way!" David crossed his arms and faded, turning invisible and immediately shifting through the back wall into the alley.

"Fuck!" Garibaldi shouted.

"Don't get your knickers in a knot," Sheridan said. "He's not going anywhere."

David ran down the alleyway, and was knocked on his ass by an unseen force. He got up from where he sat on the concrete and moved forward more slowly. Again, he was stopped. He pressed his hand outward, and could just see the faintest green glow of what could only be described as a force field.

The two Rimohrs left the motel room and walked around to the alley. They stood on the other side of the magical field and faced David.

"A containment spell," Sheridan told David. "Just in case."

"I'm not spending the rest of my life... or whatever... in jail, just because of who I am!" David insisted.

"This will all be explained to you later, Mr. Stroud," Sheridan told him calmly. "For now, you do need to accompany us. Stretch out your hands in front of you, please."

David didn't move.

"I said please. I can force you to comply, but I don't really want to get violent. Please cooperate with us, and you will not be harmed."

"Just jailed," David spat.

"For now, yes," Sheridan agreed. "You will have your hearing, at which time you can plead your case before the magistrate. Don't make your situation worse by resisting us."

David sighed. Jacob had told him specifically not to resist the Rimohrs. David didn't know who they were, but figured Jacob knew more about it than he did. But Jacob was imprisoned in that house. Was that what they were going to do to him?

Shit.

David stretched out his hands in front of himself.

Sheridan pulled out his magic wand and pointed it at David's wrists. "Redimio tazerias," he intoned, and a blue light encircled both of David's wrists in a flowing figure eight. It did not constrict, but David could no longer move his hands apart. Sheridan put his wand away, and then waved his hand in the air. David could sense that the containment spell had been removed.

Sheridan stepped forward and gently took David's arm. "Come on. We have a long walk ahead."

"Walk? Don't you guys own a goddamned car?"

"Car?" Garibaldi asked his boss.

"Geez, were you asleep in Earth Studies, too?" Sheridan asked.

"Never took it. Didn't figure I'd need it."

Sheridan rolled his eyes, and then they started walking.

"So what are cars?" Garibaldi asked, directing his question to David.

"Those things," David said, gesturing as best he could to the vehicles going by on the road.

"Oh. I've never understood all the machinery that you Earthers use."

"How do you get around, then? Walk everywhere?"

"For short distances, yes, usually. For long trips, we travel in carriages drawn by horses or pegs," Sheridan explained. The boy would need to learn all this, so there was no point in not telling him.

"You use pigs to pull carriages?"

Garibaldi laughed. Sheridan grinned. Finally, Garibaldi took pity on David. "Not pigs, pegs. Winged horses."

"Oh, pegasuses, you mean."

"Yes, we just call them pegs," Sheridan carried on. "The younger generation have also started using a magically floating board. I forget what they call it."

"A Sky Rider," Garibaldi told him. "My nephew is begging us to get him one for his birthday."

"Why don't you just use cars?" David asked. "They work..."

"Technology, such as you use in Earth, requires too many people to maintain. Dugerra, where we're going, doesn't have enough people to design, construct, and then maintain all of the mechanical things you use. We rely on magic for most of those tasks instead."

"Oh. How much farther do we have to go?"

"You can't be tired already," Garibaldi complained.

"No, I'd just like to know how long we're going to be walking."

"The gate is just outside of town. Luckily for us, you were near a gate. Otherwise, we'd have had to find a way to transport you."

"You guys don't have this kind of thing worked out already? I mean, don't you have to come after all us illegal ghosts?"

"Demighosts. And... there aren't that many of you. There is a section of the department that deals with new wizards, and they have better arrangements. We didn't have time to coordinate with them."

"Right."

The trio walked on for another mile before Sheridan directed David through a gate, and down a path toward what appeared to be a small shed.

On either side of the shed, currently lying alertly on the ground, were two black masses with deep, glowing red eyes. They rose as the three approached, and David could now see that they were dogs... or wolves, more accurately... or something else. They were the biggest canines he had ever seen. Each stood four feet at the shoulder.

Sheridan sensed David's fear. "Hellhounds. They won't bother you. They're here to guard the entrance to Dugerra."

"Wait... just anyone can just walk up and go into Dugerra?"

"Anyone who can get past them, yes. They can sense magical beings. We're all magical, so they won't challenge us."

"I'm not..." David insisted.

"Demighosts are all magical, David," Sheridan explained. "That's why you're being detained."

Garibaldi went ahead of the others and opened the door. Sheridan guided David inside, and then Garibaldi came behind them, closing the door. Sheridan placed his hand against the back wall, and suddenly a door appeared in front of them, opening of its own accord.

The sun was just rising here, as well, and so David squinted against the bright light.

"Don't worry, the carriage has shades," Garibaldi told him.

The three walked over to a carriage which reminded David of an old stage coach. Sheridan opened the door and helped him up inside. Garibaldi got up in the driver's seat while Sheridan joined David inside the coach.

Despite his predicament, David was fascinated by the countryside as it rolled past. It looked very familiar.

When Sheridan saw the look on his face - he'd seen it before - he said, "The geography here is almost identical to Earth. Of course, the cities aren't here, and there aren't nearly so many people, but the land itself is very similar. You are... where you were, before we passed through the gateway. That is why things seem familiar to you."

"How did you know?" David asked.

"I've done this before. Not with a demighost, though. You are my first at that. But other wizards have slipped through the system."

"What system?"

"It's a long story. Basically, we look for wizards in Earth constantly. Usually we find them when they're still children. When that happens, we prepare the whole family, and their first visit to Dugerra is more of a vacation than what you are experiencing. Sometimes, though, wizards go undetected, and when they start to do magic... well, then we have to bring them in more directly."

"Oh."

"You see, David, unlicensed magic is not allowed. Neither in Dugerra, nor in Earth. If we did, well... it'd be chaos."

"How long am I going to be imprisoned?"

"I'll let that conversation happen between you and the magistrate," Sheridan said. "We should be arriving soon."

David said nothing, but went back to looking out the window.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

David sat in his cell, tossing a tennis ball against the wall. It was the only thing in the cell when he'd arrived two days before. They had processed him, given him new clothes, and then they had told him that the magistrate was in another district, and David would have to wait for his return.

And so he waited. He had already found out, the hard way, that his cell did not allow him to fade. He assumed this was similar magic to what imprisoned Jacob, but all it really told him was that he really was trapped here.

David missed his tennis ball as one of the guards stopped in front of his cell, along with a nicely-dressed lady.

"You have a visitor," the guard said. David stood up, but the guard did not open the door.

"Am I supposed to speak to him this way?" the woman asked.

"I can't let him out of his cell, ma'am," the guard said.

"Is there any rule that prevents you from letting me into it, then?"

"Ma'am, he could hurt you..."

The woman snorted. "I'm sure you'll keep me safe, Officer."

The man sighed, but then tapped twice on the lock and uttered something that David didn't quite catch, as he said it very softly and very quickly. A lock clicked, and the door slid open. The woman stepped inside, and the guard closed the door behind her. She took no notice of it.

"My name is Emile Lengel," she said. "I just wanted to come and say hello, and to see how you're doing."

"Fine, I suppose. I'd be doing a lot better if they let me out of here."

"Yes. Can I ask, before your unfortunate turn of events, what had you planned to do with your future?"

David shrugged. "Why?"

"Oh, I just like to get a feel for the... newcomers to Dugerra."

"I was going to go to college in the fall, but I hadn't decided on a major yet. I didn't know what I really wanted to do. Of course, it's a moot point, now. Can't do a lot from a prison cell."

"Well, your imprisonment won't be permanent. You said you were going to go to college... do you have academic strengths?"

"I suppose. I'm fairly good with chemistry, I guess, and science in general."

"Chemistry? I'm not familiar with the term..."

"Mixing things together to get a new thing. Yeah, I know. That Rimohr said you guys didn't use much technology. I guess most of what I know is useless in this place."

"I think you'd be surprised. Your aptitudes will probably transfer better than you think."

"Not that it matters."

"Oh, it matters, David. As I said, your imprisonment is not a permanent situation. But you say that you do not know what you would like to do with your life?"

"Not really. I mean, I'd thought about different things, but nothing seemed like a good fit."

The woman nodded. "How did you fare in school?"

"You mean my grades?" The woman nodded. "I was an Honors student... but just barely."

"Why just barely?" she asked curiously.

David shrugged. "Guess I'm not that smart. It was all I could do to make the Honors grades that I got."

"I see. So it wasn't for lack of trying."

"No."

"Well, that's good."

"Can I ask why you're asking me all this?"

"Well, as I said, you won't be imprisoned forever. We have to consider your future. I'm... part of that effort."

"Oh. Okay."

The two spent another half-hour chatting about various topics before the woman left. David scratched his head, wondering just what that was about, before returning to his bunk and his tennis-ball tossing.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"This council will now hear the case of," the clerk looked down at his scroll, and then continued, "David Stroud."

"Will the accused please step forward?" one of the junior magistrates asked.

David stepped forward, to a spot that the guard pointed out to him.

"David Stroud," the magistrate intoned, "you are accused of the unlawful use of magic by virtue of being an unregistered and unlicensed demighost. Are you a demighost, Mr. Stroud?"

"I guess so," David said.

"You're not sure?" one of the junior magistrates said with a grin.

"All of this is a bit new to me, Your Honors. What I know is that I had an accident, and ever since then, I've been... different. Mr. Pendergrast told me I was like him, and he said he was a demighost, so... I guess so."

"Where is this Mr. Pendergrast?" the magistrate intoned. "Why is he not here?"

Agent Sheridan rose. "Your Honor, Mr. Pendergrast is imprisoned under the curse of a dark wizard or wizards unknown. He is incapable of appearing here. Mr. Pendergrast is a demighost, known to this council, as they have seen him a few times over the centuries."

"I see. Have you witnessed any of the supposed demighost traits in the accused?"

"Yes, sir. I have seen him fade, and specifically, he faded in an area where the border between Earth and Haven does not permit such things for a regular ghost... not to mention that he is standing here before us today, quite solid."

"True. Very well. David Stroud, it is the judgment of this council that you are, in fact, a demighost. As such, you cannot be allowed to roam freely until such time as you have been licensed to use magic."

"I don't understand," David said.

The magistrate looked at him with pity, and then looked around. "Is Dean Lengel present today?"

"Yes, Your Honor," she said, rising from her seat. David looked over to see the woman who had visited him.

Dean?

"Mr. Stroud, it is customary that anyone wishing to perform magic must be a licensed magical professional. To that end, there are several colleges of magic throughout Dugerra. A request went out, on my authority, when you arrived in Dugerra, to find a suitable, and willing, place for you to conduct your studies. Dean Lengel was kind enough to agree to take you on as a student.

"Your other choice, should you not wish to study magic, would be to remain imprisoned in a management facility for the rest of your natural life... or, in your case, your natural afterlife."

"Not much of a choice, Your Honor."

The magistrate smiled at him. "It was never intended to be."

"In that case, I guess I'll go to college."

"Very good. You will be transferred within the week from your current holding cell to a more comfortable management facility until the school term begins. You are not a free man at school, Mr. Stroud. You must remain on school grounds, or in the company of school staff, at all times."

"What about school holidays, Your Honor?"

"If you are not able to remain at the school through those holidays, you will return to the management facility. This is especially true at the end of the school year."

"May I ask how long I must be imprisoned that way?"

"Magical licensing exams occur at the end of your second collegiate year. Should you pass those exams, you will then be a licensed magical professional, and your confinement will no longer be necessary."

"I understand."

"Do you have any further questions?"

"Um... oh! How am I supposed to pay for school? I have no money."

"That issue is being dealt with," the magistrate answered cryptically.

"Okay. Um... I can't think of any questions right now... who should I ask if I have more questions in the future?"

"Direct your questions to either Dean Lengel, or to Officer Garibaldi. He has been tasked as your case managing officer. Madame Dean, do you have need to speak with the young man?"

"I do, Your Honor. We have several details to work out."

"Very well. You may meet in room seven. Afterwards, Mr. Stroud, you will be returned to your cell. This case is adjourned."

The guard led David out of the council chamber, and into a small meeting room. Dean Lengel had already made her way there. When David arrived, she held out her hand to shake his. He took it.

"David, it's good to see you again. And welcome to the Woodward Academy."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~
~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~