I'm so sorry! I tried to schedule this but I did it before I finished! Here we have the full chapter! I hope you enjoy!
Logan didn't tell me where we were going. I wanted to ask, but I also had a feeling that he wouldn't answer me if I did. Still, I had too much to think about anyway. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Unnatural weapons, vampires, walking alongside someone who promised me answers.
These things couldn't be real. It was impossible. I almost felt like this was just a nightmare. A sick and twisted one, but nonetheless, it couldn't be real. But the bruises I had gotten before all this still hurt when I poked them, the ground I walked on still remained solid and firm.
It was still dark by the time we made it to our destination. It was a small house, but it looked more like a cottage. It seemed kind of out of place in the middle of a city, but I digress. It was a nice little place, but I couldn't imagine what kind of person wanted to live in a cottage in the city.
We went up the low steps to the place and Logan knocked three times. The door opened slowly. The woman was taller than me by a few inches. She was also older, but in a motherly sort of way. Her dress was like the night sky, dark with stars all over. I could tell instantly what she was.
She was a psychic.
"Are you kidding me," I asked, turning to Logan. He just shrugged.
"Ah, a skeptic. Well you will see soon enough that I am no charlatan," the woman said. She then turned to Logan and smiled and the wrinkles around her light eyes bunched up. "My boy, it's been too long," she said, opening her arms to hug him. Logan reciprocated.
When they let go, her smile fell off her face. "I'm going to assume this isn't just a friendly visit," she said, opening the door wider to let us both in.
The inside was just as strange, if not stranger than the outside. Multicolored crystals and tarot cards were everywhere. The place was a little cluttered, but it was big enough that at least the psychic could live here comfortably.
She sat us down on a leather couch and sat across from us in a similar chair. A teapot and cups were on the table, and I could feel the heat coming from them.
"Were you expecting someone," I asked.
The woman smiled, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Of course. You."
I wanted to say that was impossible, but I didn't have the energy. I wasn't exactly in a position to question what was real or not.
"David, meet Marina Crowley, or as her clients call her. the witch," Logan said, taking a cup of tea that the woman had just filled.
I took my own cup. "So you're a psychic," I said. I had meant it as a question, but I'll be honest, there was no doubt in my mind what she was.
Marina nodded. "I know you probably think I'm a fraud, and I will admit many psychic's are. But I swear on my life I am the real deal," she said, taking a sip of her tea. I took a sip of my own. It was lemon.
I shrugged. "I mean, according to Logan here we just got attacked by vampires so honestly, I'll believe anything." Marina smiled.
"Well then, we might as well tell you everything we know," she said, looking at Logan for confirmation. She seemed hesitant, but he nodded. Marina took a deep breath and began explaining everything to me.
"There's really no sugar coating this, but monsters are real. Ghosts are too. And a hundred other things we don't know about yet," she said.
"Still on the fence about unicorns," Logan joked. I looked at him and his smile dropped. He looked over at Marina. "I'll shut up," he muttered, looking down.
"Well," Marina continued. "Me and Logan have known about this world our whole lives. My family was prone to psychic abilities, and Logan's...they knew all about monsters."
I looked between Marina and Logan. "So what, you two just, live knowing all about monsters? Do you fight them?"
Marina laughed a little as she shook her head. "Do I look like a warrior to you," she asked. "I keep Logan here safe, he does the same for me. These things don't usually mind us."
Logan sat forward. "But they have now. That's why we're here. This guy here, he's been framed for murder. And I don't think it was by a human." Marina looked at him and then at me again.
"You want me to do it, don't you," Marina asked. Logan nodded. I looked between them. "You're gonna have to specify "it" because I don't know you're secret supernatural language," I said.
"Logan wants me to summon the victim's ghost," Marina said, as if this was a normal day occurrence.
My eyes widened. "What," I asked. Marina shrugged. "Psychics can do more than just read the future, boy. We are closely connected to the supernatural and paranormal, and therefore we can make it appear.”
I did not want to see a ghost. Vampires were bad enough, and I never was a big fan of ghost movies. But I had to find out what happened, and if that meant talking to a dead and transparent Alice Jacobson then so be it.
"This is crazy. No, it's more than crazy, it's demented," I said as I helped Logan draw the necessary symbol on the ground.
The blonde boy smiled. "Dude, monsters exist, and this is crazy to you?"
I looked at him. "Absolutely."
Logan shook his head. "This is sort of the casual Tuesday for us. Marina does this for a living you know. You wouldn't believe how many people want to see their dead loved ones or find out what fate has in store for them. I guess it's just curiosity really, but still, it's shocking."
I shrugged. "So you've seen it?" Logan nodded. "Oh, all the time. It's honestly lost it's wow factor to me by now."
I nodded as we finished the symbol. "Have you asked to see you're parents," I asked. Logan tensed, and I knew instantly I shouldn't have said anything.
"Sorry I didn't-," I tried to apologize. Logan waved me off. "It's fine. It happened a long time ago. Car crash. When I first met Marina it was still fresh. I wasn't ready to do it, and I just never decided to. I didn't really care what happened to them. I knew they most likely had it easier up there so I just didn't want to bother them."
I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know you've probably heard that a lot, but I am." Logan cocked his head to the side, as if confused. I didn't have time to ask before Marina called for us.
She had lit up a few candles and incense, so the room now smelled like lavender and was full of smoke. I coughed a little. "Don't be a baby," Marina scolded. I glared, but the second she looked at me I stopped. She sat down on the ground and motioned for us to do the same around the symbol. Marina closed her eyes and held our hands. Logan's joined with mine.
“We call upon Alice Jacobson," Marina said loudly, making me flinch. I tried to remember how to breathe.
"If there are any spirits in the room with us right now, please let us know you are here. Any noise, sound, or movement is welcome. You are safe here," she continued. Suddenly, I felt a breeze of cool air and a small sound, like a flicker.
Marina spoke again. "We will not hurt you, spirit. Are you Alice Jacobson? If so, you may reveal yourself."
There was a crash and I opened my eyes. In front of me stood a woman mainly covered in smoke. Alice. My breath caught in my throat. I had watched her die, but here she was, a ghost.
She stared down at me, and I almost felt paralyzed. She had no wound and her whole body seemed light, like the color had been drained from her. Marina and Logan opened their eyes as well and Marina smiled. "I'm assuming you're Alice," she said. The ghost nodded.
"Can you speak," Marina asked.
"Yes," the ghost Alice answered.
Marina smiled again. "Good, good. We just wanted to know what happened to you."
Alice's eyes widened and she stepped back slightly, but it was like her back hit a wall. She couldn't leave the circle.
She looked even more scared then when she had been dying. Her body flickered.
Logan stepped forward. "We understand you're scared. You're death was recent and tragic, so not wanting to speak of it is normal, but we need you're help. We are looking for your killer. We are going to make them pay, but we need to know what and who they are first," he said slowly, staring right into Alice's eyes.
She looked at me. "You're the one with me when I died," she said, as if she didn't believe it herself. I nodded. "I told you I would find your killer. I am not breaking that promise."
She smiled slightly. "Well that's good to know. I'll be honest, it's still fuzzy. I don't really remember to much of what happened."
Marina shook her head. “That’s fine dear. Just tell us what you do remember,” she said, her voice soft. Alice nodded.
“Well, I was walking home from work, I was a secretary, and I heard this terrible noise, like a loud ringing. I tried to get away from it by going into the alley, and the sound resided a little. Then I turned and…there was this man. At least I think it was a man.”
I stepped forward a little, gaining confidence. “What did it look like,” I asked.
Alice thought for a moment before answering. “It had sharp teeth. And the eyes, they were light blue, but not normal, like they were glowing. Staring right into me. It touched my stomach and I fell back to the ground. That’s when I felt it. Like I was going to die.” She looked down at herself. “Guess I was right.”
“Sharp teeth, vampire,” I asked, turning to Logan. He looked at me confused for a moment before a answering.
“Could be. But their eyes don’t normally glow.” I shrugged. “Anything’s possible, isn’t it?”
Logan scrunched his nose and smiled. “But glowing vampires? This isn’t Twilight.”
“She said glowing eyes, not body,” I said, turning to him.
“Boys,” Marina tried.
Logan’s smile only grew. “So you watched Twilight?”
I rolled my eyes. “I read them. So did you?”
“Boys,” Marina tried again.
“Marina showed me. So you have a team then?”
“Boys,” Marina exclaimed. We both closed our mouths and turned to her. She motioned to Alice, who was standing there awkwardly. “How about treating our guests with some respect?”
We both nodded and looked down to our shoes. “Yes ma’am,” Logan muttered. Marina nodded and turned back to Alice.
“Did you see anything that can help us find him. A tattoo, a piercing,” she asked.
Alice thought for a moment before answering. "Yeah actually. He had a tattoo on his arm. It was a sloth."
I raised my eyebrow. "I'm sorry, a sloth?"
Alice nodded. "Yeah. I didn't understand it, but I was too busy trying not to die to ask."
Logan nodded. "Can you draw it for us?" He handed her a piece of paper and pen and Alice drew the tattoo. Logan took it when she was done.
"Thank you Alice. We'll look into it immediately," he said. Alice smiled.
"I should be the one thanking you. Just, make sure that guy gets it," she said.
Marina nodded solemnly. "Of course. Now, it's time for you to go back to the beyond," she said. Alice seemed to understand as Marina raised her hand. Alice began to flicker. She looked at me, and my original fear of the ghost disappeared. Then she was gone.
"I'll look into the tattoo," Logan said. He ran off. I would've followed, but Marina held me back. "He works better when alone. Also, I need someone to help me clean all this up," she said, motioning to the floor that had been littered with candles and symbols.
"Right," I said. Then I got to work.
About an hour later, the floor had been scrubbed clean. It was late and Marina had gone to bed. That's when Logan called me in.
"What'd you find," I asked, standing behind him at the computer.
Logan scrolled up. "Well, I found the guy of course," he said. I saw the picture of the man. He had dark hair and eyes, and his face seemed to be in a permanent scowl.
"His name is Joseph Piper. Been to jail a few times, petty theft and all that. Why he'd start murdering people I got no idea, but it has to be him," Logan said.
I was going to ask how Logan had done something like this, but I had a feeling I wouldn't understand a word he said. So I just went with, "Logan Wright, you are a genius."
Logan smiled and looked back at me. "I know. It's one of my best qualities." Then he turned back to the computer. "I don't know where he is, he got out of jail a few months ago, but I'll find him soon enough."
I nodded. "Don't worry about it. We'll find him," I said. I looked around. "I need a drink. Marina have anything?"
Logan nodded without looking at me. "She thinks beer is the devil's soda, but there's some in the fridge."
A memory came to me. A bottle being smashed. A trash can full of empty ones. The sound of cops banging on the door and a man I knew yelling "What is wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Um, no thanks," I said.
Logan turned to me. "Oh, okay then. Pretty sure we have some lemonade if you want it." He got up and led me to the kitchen, not even asking about why I had spaced out for a second.
He took out a pitcher from the fridge and poured two cups, giving me one and taking the other. I took a sip and the cold drink calmed my nerves.
Logan put the pitcher away. "So, not a big drinker?" I shook my head vigorously. Logan took a sip of his own cup.
"Any reason as to why," he asked. The question was innocent enough. I was sure that if I said I didn't want to talk about it he'd be fine with that.
But then again, had I told anyone about it? Elliot was really the only person I talked to on the regular, and he didn't know. So why would I tell some guy I hadn't known the name of until yesterday?
I sighed. "My parents were alcoholics. They weren't really abusive or anything, but my dad yelled at me sometimes. Mom usually just passed out. When I was 13, my dad got too drunk and decided it'd be a great idea to steal from a gas station. He got caught."
Logan looked at me, his face serious. "So you decided to be a cop, what, to spite them?"
I shook my head. "No, to be better than them. I refused to grow up and be like that. Spending my last paycheck on alcohol, yelling at my kid for getting a black eye defending me, I knew it wasn't right, even then. I just wanted an escape."
Logan nodded. "Well, I'm glad you got one."
I took another sip of my lemonade, this time enjoying the comfort a little more. "Parents aren't always what they crack up to be, are they?"
Logan chuckled bitterly to himself. "They really aren't."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "Wait, what was wrong with your parents?"
Logan's eyes widened a little. "Oh um, nothing," he said, putting his cup in the sink. His face was turning pink. "I need to go to bed. Looking for a psychopath takes a lot out of you," he said. He was gone before I could say anything else.
No, I am not a genius. But I'm also not an idiot.
I put my cup on the counter and went to Logan's computer. I sat down and typed in the name Logan Wright.
The first few people that came up weren't him, but then I found a picture.
In an obituary.
Logan Wright had died 10 years ago.
What do you think Logan is, or how do you think he's alive? Answer in comments if you want!
Link to last chapter: @gracepro/accused
