Seven
“That was uncalled for.” Thor told Sam sternly, his face full of shadow. Sam dropped the piece of marble and leaned over, gasping for breath.
“It was the only way to get her to stop.” Sam panted. “We have to restrain her before she wakes up.”
“I doubt anything could hold her.” Thor said still giving Sam the evil eyes.
“That I can help you with.” A party goer appeared before them. He was tall with unruly hair and slender features. “My name is Edgar Rollins and I am a Minister.”
Thor stumbled backwards unused to specters appearing out of the blue, to Sam it was the norm.
“Why would you help you us?” Sam asked the ghost cautiously.
“Because you saved Emily.” The Edgar replied. “This thing is most unholy.” He spat disgustedly at Star.
“That unholy thing is my sister.” Sam growled.
“Not anymore I’m afraid.” Corrected the Minister. He patted Sam’s shoulder but all Sam felt was cold air. “There’s a cell in the basement,” he continued, “it was used as a...” Edgar trailed off trying to pluck the right word out of the air.
“Torture chamber.” Emily said suddenly, joining the conversation. Sam studied the young ghost girl with a profound sadness. She had been a beauty, which undoubtedly had caught her master’s eye. Brown sleek hair was pushed into a ponytail, wisps of stray strands crowned her round and pleasant face. Emily was a slip of thing, barely five feet tall and a deep hole dominated her stomach. Sam had to nudge Thor who couldn’t seem to tare his eyes from the gaping wound.
“Yes, well...as I was saying.” Edgar fumbled on, “I could cleanse it. That would certainly do the job for a while.”
Sam nodded his head, “sounds like a plan.” He scooped up an unconscious Star and followed the two specters out the ballroom and down solid looking steps to the dark basement.
“Will a dead Minister’s blessing still hold its power?” Thor whispered to Sam.
“Let’s hope.” Sam mumbled back heaving Star onto his other shoulder, the trials of the past few months were catching up to him. The basement wasn’t as unpleasant as suggested. There was a small window in the stone wall that let in the morning sun. There was a bathroom cornered off by a moth-eaten curtain. It also contained a moldy sofa and an upturned wooden coffee table.
Taking up the wall beside the steps was a huge metal cell. A bed had been stuffed in the corner, dried blood stained the yellowing sheets. Sam caught Emily’s eye and sympathy for the girl grew. People were the worst monsters.
The Minster chanted the Lord’s prayer while holding onto the bars. Sam put Star down inside the cell and felt the lock click into place when he shut the door behind him.
“The key is hanging on that hook.” Emily said pointing to a crude hole in the wall where an iron hook had been forced into the stone, a set of keys hung from it. “He took great delight in watching me trying to get to them.” She uttered softly.
“And nobody helped you?” Thor asked in disbelief.
Emily smiled at his naivety, “no one dared go against a man as rich and as powerful as my master, though everyone in the house knew what he did to the help, including his young wife. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me, to her I was just a girl with no name.”
“There!” Edgar declared, “that should hold her.”
“Thank you.” Sam turned to Emily, “you know why we’re here, don’t you?”
Emily nodded, “you want to free your sister from him.”
“How do you know that?” Thor asked with a perplexed expression.
“We may be dead and damned but we’re not stupid.” Edgar replied with conviction, “we all know of the soul-eater. He hunts us like cattle.”
“What do you know of him?” Sam asked the Minister, desperation creeping into his voice.
“That he is the dark one that consumes our souls is all I need to know!” Edgar spat, his eyes full of fear.
“His race once governed the other side,” Emily added pushing Edgar out the way with an annoyed glare, “they were created to guide the newly departed souls to where they needed to go. Heaven, hell or purgatory. However their leader had other ideas. He knew how much energy was in a soul and wanted that power for his own. He turned rogue and pleaded with the others to join him, to free themselves of bondage. They did and a bloody battle ensued between them and their creator.”
“Which is who?” Sam asked.
“I do not know.” Emily answered simply. “The Guardians, as they were called, were defeated and disposed of except for the one who persuaded them to rebel in the first place, him, their leader.” The air in the room seemed to get heavier, weighing on their shoulders. Sam collapsed onto the sofa, his strength utterly spent.
“He’s been in hiding ever since, waiting in the shadows.” Emily continued.
“Sam, he’s been waiting for Star.”