IV - Wicked WraithMature

I groaned, my body shook in spasm as he took control of the nerves. "Think Daniel think!" I screamed innerly. Psychics... All I knew about the power and techniques was fiction. Fiction...

A book came back to mind, a piece of semi-science semi-fantasy writting, about a war between psychic agents fighting etheral mind possesing demons. It had went a little to much time droneing on and on metaphysics and details to my taste but it hadn't been horrible.

"Useless trash..." I sort of sighed as the spirit continued his take over, now in control of the lower he hemisphere of my body and making it's way upward.

For some reason I kept getting flashes of the book, and I felt it wasn't because of the grimoire...

"Who had written that book again?" the spirit's control was now at my belly... And I couldn't stop thinking about a stupid book.

I think it was P.A Smith that he was called... Familiar...

Oh right, my darn uncle's pen name. That's when it hit me, it wasn't a novel. It was instructions disguised as one! Clever. If you knew to look for it. I could still try it.

I conjured the image of my uncle's old desk. And focused on it. Remembering the exercise... as it had gone in the book...

"What is this?" Came my voice speaking like another character. 

"A chair." the "real" I replied.

"I asked, what it was, not the designation it had. "

"A piece of wood, with legs and drawers to store stuff and a surface to write"

"Is that all? everything to know about this object? A carpenter could tell you the craftmanship's quality, An antiquary could tell you of it's historic and monetary value, while it's owner of how the desk had served him."

"Is there a point to this?" I asked annoyed as the character had been.

"Yes. Tell me, how can you define something as complicated as a human being when you cannot truly define what the chair is? Not to even mention the lack of objective perspective concerning yourself."

So now my question is this; Who are you?"

I knew, I was a man, one who couldn't ignore the suffering of others even if it had hurt me in the past to help, I was on a true path of life I'd only began walking and I was hell set on continueing travelling it to the end, and I sure liked the ownership of my body!

I screamed psionically, sending actual waves of power upon the astral plane's local surface.

I
AM
DANIEL
LACHANCE
GET OFF MY GODDAMN LAWN!

With that admittedly quirky line, I forced the spirit out, he exploded out of my chest, bypassing my skin, into a cloud of darkned jelly that gathered itself togueter. For a moment, we faced each others... He slowly reformed into a humanoid form, this time way more spooky and twisted. It's arms and legs had gained another joint, his hands had grown into alien claws and his face sported a large hole with a circular jaw full of razors around the edge and going down inside of it...

We struck at each other, his claws against my flesh, my hands against his ectoplasm.

He slunged at me and his claws raked against my upper torso. Making nasty cuts from the pec to the right shoulder. He swiped with his other hand, but that one, I dodged, tucking down.

His swing had taken him in a bad position, he didn't get the chance to blow a right hook to the jaw, which tore off, plashing the suroundings with ectoplasm. He had claws, I had rightenous fury. And most importantly he didn't bleed and his claws cauterised my wounds, leaving blackened cuts.

It was materialised angst agaisnt projected anger. The guy was way too fast for me, the time I got back to a defensive stance, his whole body twisted around, one of his arm extending and lunging it's claws right in the thigh. I dropped to a knee.

Spirits, as I had begun to realise, seemed to operate with emotions, thoughts and memories rather than some kind of phantomatic matter

I punched strait in pure desperation, luckily hitting right through his torso, my hand grasped a semi-solid part, and I riped it out. A beating phantomatic heart came out in my hands the spirit began to shake uncontrollably.

Then, I remembered another passage from the book of my uncle. How to banish them...

Pushing away disgust, I bit hard into it, ripping a large shred out and swallowed it. Doing it again until I had swallod it all. Thankfully it didn't taste bad. Actually it didn't taste anything, I was eating emotions after all. I felt the specter's rage and madness settle in my entire body, trying to escape or dominate me. 

I used all my will, every last bit of confidence, drive and power left in me, the angst of the ghost passed by the same path as the previous wraiths, except this time, it had been forced, catapulted out.

The maddedned spirit before me fell down, the spirit reformed, gaining a white hue and leaving, sucked in a direction I felt, but that couldn't be pointed to... 

At the same time, I felt my body and spirit separating. Going through the same path as the wraith did. For a time I became unfettered, my spirit soon floating  free of corporeal limitations. The pains of life and tiredness of mundane existance flew away, I was relaxed, happy,

A thick silver cord ran from my navel to my now limb body, which laid on the ground, exposed to the cold rain I hadn't noticed earlier...

The silver cord was quickly thinning my body was exhausted, my mind nearly shattered and I was dying... Was this how I died? Alone, in the rain, in a place where none would find me? Is this how my life end?

Alone, in a raging thunderstorm.

A pathethic whimper amongst a sea of failed dreams and lost hopes... The cord lat out a loud snap and it became all black.

The End

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