"Trying to reason with a unicorn is like trying to make sense of the clouds. They are what they are. Sometimes it's weather patterns, but sometimes the weather patterns give you the finger and do what they want anyway."
It was the most I'd heard Grim speak. His voice was like a thunder storm that was still a few miles away, but you knew it was coming and it raised the hair on the back of your neck in anticipation. I couldn’t deny that I was curious about this man. He was a big, hulking figure with tattoos covering the visible skin all the way up to his jaw and long, brown hair that I'd only ever seen tied back. It made me wish that he would take it down.
"What's your real name?" I asked, unsure if he would share but unable to tamp down my inquisitive nature any longer.
"Azrael."
"Do you not like it?" I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and looked out of the window as we drove, wanting to give him space to consider his response and not look like I was analyzing him, even though I was, a tiny bit.
"Lets just say it didn't win me any friends in school, and when you have a weird name and see ghosts it makes you an outcast even from the outcasts." Grim shrugged as though it didn't matter, but the fact that he went by something else and was so closed off spoke volumes about the trauma of the bullying he must have endured as a child.
"I was like that with my power when I was growing up. It was wild and uncontrollable. It threatened everyone and everything around me until another witch took me in and helped me learn how to handle it. Not that it did her any good since the Wardwells killed her for it."
"Do you remember much from your life before?" he asked, not looking at me, the steering wheel moving around as we turned, steady and sure in his grip.
"Fragments. When you've been alive as long as I have it's hard to remember everything. Georgina, the witch who raised me once my powers manifested, was one of the bright spots in my life so I held on to those memories tightly. Replayed them over and over again when I was so lonely I thought I might die from it. They were one of the main things that helped me survive in the mirror realm."
"What about why they imprisoned you?" he asked and it felt like the temperature in the car plummeted.
"Who knows. The men of the Wardwell clan got their knickers in a knot over so many things. It could have been because I was teaching the local women how to read, like Georgina had with me. Or maybe because I was helping them manage whether or not they conceived a child. Or even because I dared to think I was equal to them, not only in society but in power as well. The bastards never actually told me." I knew my voice had gone bitter, but it was the truth. I took a breath and added, "At my farce of a trial they simply accused me of witchcraft, had a few of the townsfolk tell the judge how I'd helped them, and then when burning me alive didn't work, because controlling flames is one of my talents, they tricked me into thinking someone needed help and imprisoned me in the mirror realm. It was their fear and desperation to hang on to their power both in society and otherwise that put me there. I hadn't done anything wrong." The plea in my voice at the end made me snap my jaw shut. Why had I opened up to him like that? Why were tears pricking the backs of my eyes as I looked out of the window? I pushed the memories and the feelings down. They weren't useful, especially not now.
As we rounded a corner I watched some children play in a park, their mothers oblivious to the dangers that surround them, not that it was their fault entirely. I couldn’t ever remember being that young and carefree. Even when I was a child I had been scared of those around me. I'd known that there was something inside me.
When my powers manifested, nearly burning down our family home, my parents kicked me out, claiming I was devil spawn. Living in the woods surrounding our small town was more than a little challenging for a child. Georgina had saved my life, literally. I'd been on the edge of starvation and frostbite when she found me. I'd used all my magic, all my energy, to keep myself warm, but once it was depleted and I couldn't conjure any more flames, the cold set in and I would have been doomed without her help.
When the car stopped I was yanked back from my memories and thrust into the present. The house we had pulled up in front of looked like many I had seen in my travels through the mirror. The front was a bland beige color and the siding looked like it needed cleaning since there was an odd green tone to it in some areas. Weeds covered most of the front yard, while a few flowers poked their bright faces up around the front of the house, fighting for space among the brambles.
"This is it?" I asked.
Grim nodded. "Do you know what a dybbuk is?"
"I know I've been alive a long time, but all I know of society is what I've been able to see through mirrors, so no," I said with a smile.
"It's a soul that's riding a living body without belonging to it. Possession, basically. Generally they are nasty as fuck, malicious souls with their only focus being revenge. It usually leaves the possessee, host, whatever you want to call it, once it has accomplished its goal. The only other times I've seen it is when that goal is violent in nature and the thing ends up causing harm to the host. Most hosts don't survive whatever revenge the dybbuk is seeking. People used to seek exorcisms for this but then as modern culture took over and mythology was brushed aside, it became considered a mental illness by anyone not aware of just how real this shit is. It's a weird one, that's for sure. If I can get ahold of the spirit then I can get it to the deadside, which isn't necessarily where it belongs but is better than it being attached to some random person and forcing it to do their bidding."
My jaw had dropped open while he'd been speaking. I quickly closed my mouth and said, "For a man of few words you're very eloquent when you want to be."
He snorted. "I learned to keep my mouth shut unless I needed to say something. It kept me out of trouble. Not having any friends as a kid gave me ample time to read though. I figured if I was stuck with this shit then I may as well learn as much as I could about it."
"Makes sense." I was looking out of the window as we spoke and a curtain fluttered upstairs, a shadow moving behind it, watching without wanting to be seen. "What do I need to know about fighting it?"
"There shouldn't be much of a fight, but keep repeating the phrase 'There is no place for the world of the dead in the souls of the living' in your head and it will help protect you against the dybbuk fleeing the woman it's in and trying to gain purchase in your own body."
"Understood." The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I looked up into the window where the curtain had moved. That wasn't the cause though. I looked back at Grim. "What did you just do?"
He grinned at me and there was a slight evilness to the edges, one that made my heart race, but not with fear. "I can store a bit of deadside energy within me. It will help me connect with the dybbuk. I just opened a tiny portal and pulled some through."
"That's fucking impressive," I said on a slow exhale.
"Thanks. Shall we?"
7
Mae
Grim reached for the door handle, but I stopped him with my words. “So you need to pull the spirit through to the other side?”