Chapter Text
"Come on, Ben! Pick up the pace! The pixies always go after the slow ones!"
Esther and Abaddon scrambled through the woods, easily leaping over gnarled roots and large boulders. Ben yelped as he tried picking up the pace, chased by the sounds of high giggling.
"Do they do that?!" He yelled. "I don't think those are pixies!"
In Ben's defense, he had a point. The 'pixies' were little raccoon-sized creatures with stretchy gray skin and rows of razor-sharp teeth. Esther quickly stepped around a tree.
"Of course they are. Cause I say they are."
Hm. That was enough for Abaddon. Whatever they were, they were pixies. He glanced at Esther, tilting his head.
"If the pixies kill him, can I have some of his bones?"
She breathed heavily as her boots sloshed through mud. A wild smile stretched up her face.
"Mm, maybe a few. But I have dibs on the skull!"
Abaddon pouted. No fair. Esther always got the good dibs. And Ben's head was the perfect size for the ritual he had in mind...! Abaddon almost tripped over a fallen log in his disappointment, but managed to land on all fours and scuttle underneath it like an animal. Being able to openly act like this, feral and free, it was... different than what he was used to. For hundreds of years, he'd accepted that the way he crawled on walls and enjoyed hanging upside down, gravity pulling at his hair, would scare off humans. Humans flocked together in search of the familiar, and the simple was that... he wasn't familiar. He was other. But Esther and Ben... they didn't see that. They didn't care that he was currently racing through the forest on his hands and knees, enjoying the light sting of branches snagging against his skin, reminding him he was alive. The two humans flocked to him as if he was one of their species.
'If you keep scratching up our skin, it's going to get infected again. That really hurt last time.'
The voice was childish and gentle, so different from Abaddon's own. But it was familiar. He couldn't imagine his head without it at this point. It sounded bored. Used to Abaddon's... unconventional treatment of the body. Abaddon scurried over a large boulder.
'But walking on two legs can be uncomfortable.'
'Yeah. Sometimes it can be... if we're gonna pretend we're an animal, can you howl like a wolf? Awooo."
Abaddon supposed that was a reasonable request. On top of the boulder, he tipped his head back and loudly howled, the sound echoing from his throat. As he did, he heard the vessel howl along with him in his head, the sound high-pitched and squeaky like a pup. Ben's head whipped in his direction.
"I... will never understand you, Abaddon."
Abaddon simply blinked slowly.
Esther suddenly changed directions, her boots slapping the ground as she made a beeline for the beach. Abaddon automatically followed, the sounds of pixies giggling getting closer and closer. They broke out of the forest and ran along the shore, the lake stretching out as far as the eye could see. Hm. Abaddon didn't normally come this way. Esther ran for a nearby alcove under the cliff. She stepped around some razor sharp rocks that jutted up into the sky.
"Come on, come on! Inside the cave! I can cast a protection."
As Abaddon got closer, he felt something strange twist in his stomach. Like a slow dread creeping through his limbs. There was something familiar about this alcove... Abaddon nearly stopped, his entire body seeming to clench. This cliff... these rocks...
'I don't want to be here!' The vessel suddenly screamed.
Abaddon winced, hesitating on his feet. He heard Ben yelling in pain behind him, the boy's ankles being nibbled on by pixies.
"Abaddon! Let's go! Get a move on!" Esther called out from the cave entrance.
Right. The pixies. He... had to focus. He felt how the young boy's thoughts retreated, hiding deep into his brain. Abaddon tried to mentally reach out, but simply felt the boy closed off, shut down and not talking.
'We'll leave soon. I promise.'
As Abaddon and Ben dove into the cave, Esther released a few charms. The pixies skidded to a halt at the entrance and hissed at her, their little bodies prowling along the edge of the charms. She chuckled, planting a hand on her hip.
"That's right! Esther Freeling runs this beach! And don't you dare think you can mess with me!"
Abaddon's brow quirked, his lips twitching into just the smallest of smiles as the pixies hissed again and disappeared back into the woods. Yeah. Esther and Ben were his flock. Not like he'd ever admit to it.
Esther glanced around the cave, her eyes widening a fraction in awe.
"Whoa, check this out! I haven't been in here yet! You think there are any shallow graves?!"
Abaddon expertly latched his fingers in the cave's stone wall and scurried up a few feet, pebbles biting into his palms.
"Perhaps," he murmured dodgedly. Were the priest's bones still around? Half swallowed by the Earth? Gnawed and scattered over the beach?
Abaddon kept crawling up along the stone, easily grasping into little crevices as Esther and Ben explored the cave. There really wasn't much. A few dead rats, but Abaddon could honestly get those anywhere. He could feel the child's anxiety beginning to bleed through, every second increasing the intensity of how quickly he wanted to leave this place. Esther was stuffing some seaweed into her bag with a mischievous chuckle while Ben rambled about something between him and Annabelle when he felt a gaze on him.
Abaddon straightened. Something was watching him. His head swiveled, eyes narrowing into the darkness. He'd developed an almost uncanny perception over the years, enough to know when there were eyes, lurking in the darkness. It was a unique feeling, sending goosebumps peppering along his skin and something in his head pounding. A warning bell. And now, with... where they were... his eyes flashed a protective red as he glared into the dark, his nostrils flaring. This feeble human body was starting to slip into fight or flight mode. Abaddon wanted to charge into the darkness with his teeth bared, but he could feel the child desperate to escape.
"Uh... Abaddon? You still with us?" Esther inched closer.
He didn't answer right away, that eerie feeling sitting cold and heavy in his chest. The alarm bells were sharper than they'd ever been, making the blood rush through his ears. Human bodies reacted so curiously under adrenaline. Under threats and fear. Esther and Ben exchanged a look. Ben flashed a brilliant smile as he slid up next to Abaddon, his teeth just a bit too big for his mouth.
"You know, word on the street is that Mom bought Froot Loops."
That actually did manage to center Abaddon a bit. He looked up at the boy, trying not to let it show how eager he was.
"The matriarch got Froot Loops?"
"Froot Loops, Froot Loops!" Esther chanted.
Abaddon's lips curved. The vessel in his brain sniffled.
'I want some Froot Loops.'
He joined in on Esther's chanting, the two of their voices mixing as the three kids left the cave, the sun beginning to sink down into the sky.
From the darkness, the priest watched, his eyes wide. The ghost had a gaping hole in his center, with dried blood staining his clothing. For centuries, he'd had... no thoughts. The water seeping out onto the beach and retreating had been the only constant in all of this time, the only tether that reminded him that his spirit was still stuck here. Back when he did have thoughts, he wondered if this was a punishment from God. He'd failed to save his son, failed to drive out the demon. This was what he deserved. As time passed, however, those thoughts melted away. His very memories seemed to melt away. No one to talk to. What use was praying if his soul was meant to just stand in the dark back of a cave? The man could barely remember his own name by now. It was tatters in his brain, everything slipping through a non-corporeal essence.
And yet... As soon as he saw that boy... it all came rushing back. Memories and purpose and drive. Despite being immortal now, his son looked so different. There were circles under his eyes. His shoulders were just so slightly hunched in and the way the demon's eyes flashed red, like fresh blood... everything about him seemed… wrong… but the priest knew. He slowly opened his mouth, a foreign action that felt like a gently blowing breeze.
"Elias," he whispered.
A few hours later, Katherine tossed a few bedsheets into the hamper to be washed, grunting with the effort of carrying them through the long, dark hallway. She saw a shape out of the corner of her eye and gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Not now, Stabby Paul. I'm kind of in the middle of something."
Stabby Paul paused, his knife half raised. The ghost pouted.
"Aw. You're no fun."
Katherine smirked to herself as the ghost continued on, disappearing through a wall. She carefully maneuvered her basket, passing by a window. Katherine stopped, her brow furrowing as she got that same sense whenever a ghost was nearby. Glancing out the window, she faltered. There was a priest ghost standing at the edge of the woods, just… staring… at the hotel. He had a gnarly hole in his center and something… sorrowful… in his gaze. Katherine put down the basket while keeping the new ghost in her sights. She crossed her arms, counting the seconds in her head. A full minute passed and the ghost never even twitched. Katherine pursed her lips.
"Nathan?"
Her brother stepped through the wall with a bright smile.
"Boo! Heh. A little ghost humor there. And what can I help you with, Kathy?"
He chuckled. Katherine made a show of rolling her eyes. She hummed and nodded towards the window.
"You know that one?"
Nathan peered out, tilting his head curiously. The ghost scratched the back of his neck, brows knitted in concentration as he scanned the priest quizzically.
"Sorry, no. I don't really talk to the outside ghosts. They're always a bit funny. Actually, Abaddon has this really good theory about bugs eating bones and-"
"Nathan," Katherine cut in gently. Nathan blinked rapidly and snorted.
"No. I don't know that one."
Katherine slowly nodded and turned her attention back to the mysterious ghost.
"I wonder why he's just… standing there."
"And staring," Nathan helpfully chimed in.
Katherine's eyes flashed in her brother's direction.
"… Yes… and staring. It looks like an old ghost. A few hundred years old?"
"I could talk to it if you want me to."
Katherine considered, but ultimately shook her head. She gathered up the basket again. As long the ghost stayed out there and away from her family and hotel guests, he could haunt wherever he wanted.
"Maybe it's like you said and it's just an outside ghost acting funny. We'll just keep an eye on him."
Nathan gave a little salute.
Down in his cabinet under the sink, Abaddon quietly stared at the sink's pipes, his eyes distant. He didn't really sleep, but the Freelings did. And nights were so boring when they slept. The only thing for him to do was leave coins on their tongues.
'You felt it, too. Someone was watching us.' The vessel thought. He could hear the child's thoughts quivering. Abaddon swallowed thickly, not wanting to admit it.
'Yes.'
'That's… that's where Papa…"
Abaddon averted his gaze. Where the boy's father had died. Where they had all gone careening off the cliff together, sailing the air, the ground and sharp rocks getting closer and closer... Abaddon forced the memory away and tried to see the cave rationally. Even feeling like there were eyes on him, he didn't have confirmation that it was the priest's eyes. And besides, both he and the boy had been shaken. Maybe... may he hadn't sensed anything after all.
'We don't know what we felt. It could've just as easily been a squirrel.'
'I guess…' the boy thought slowly.
Abaddon hesitated.
'Would it… disappoint you…? If it was just a squirrel?'
The voice didn't answer. Abaddon stared at the pipe, watching a drop of water fall. The silence in his head was deafening. He wasn't used to a silent head anymore.
'Elias…?'
When the voice still didn't answer, Abaddon pulled his knees up to his chest. He hated when the child got so quiet like this. After centuries, they were… two halves of one coin. So tightly bound that the demon honestly didn't know where he ended and Elias began. As far as he was concerned, he was Elias and, well, Elias was him.
'Elias… please answer me…'
'I miss my Papa.'
Abaddon hugged his knees. Well... that he couldn't understand. He had no family.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered.
For a moment, Abaddon was worried he'd hear the child start crying in his head. He hated it when Elias cried. When Elias spoke again, Abaddon straightened.
'Abaddon?'
'Yes?'
'...Can we break into Mr. Charlie's house and have some cider?'
Abaddon's lips stretched into a grin.
'That sounds like fun.'