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Grace had told her once that possessed people were dangerous.
They were unpredictable, and freakishly strong. Ghosts had no concept of how hard they could push a human body. Possessed people had been known to leap off buildings and survive, to be hit by a truck and walk away.
Teagan hadn’t considered herself possessed till now. She was just a girl, sharing her body with the soul of her cousin she was trying to save.
But after the car accident, that changed. Teagan no longer felt like there was enough of her in her body for it to be considered sharing. Kenzie still had all the parts of herself, while Teagan’s self had been bashed out of shape, whole pieces of her had been snapped off. She was reduced to pain, sickness, desperation, and a tenuous connection to her own body. Kenzie still had all her wits about her, still had all her self, and filled up all the empty bits inside Teagan till Teagan felt like she was the ghost and Kenzie the living girl.
Possessed people were dangerous.
It was some hour close to midnight, and Teagan’s body was walking across the hospital grounds. She had gone down the fire escape, and jumped the last distance. Her legs hurt but not as much as her head. She had one long grass stain up her sleeve where she’d rolled, and she'd shed the neck brace. Kenzie had gotten tired of waiting for Joss. He’d promised he would visit during the day, but he’d broken that promise.
Kenzie had promised she would stay with Teagan, so Teagan had to come too.
They met a security guard on the perimeter of the grounds.
Teagan wasn’t so sure what exactly happened. Kenzie left her body for a moment. The man screamed. Teagan stepped around his body after it fell. He was shuddering all over. She started to shudder too, till Kenzie rejoined her.
She stopped shuddering.
She wondered if she’d killed him.
Possessed people were dangerous.
Wait, she thought, and she and Kenzie turned together to look at the man. Teagan didn’t know what Kenzie had done to him, perhaps the same thing she’d done to Joss one night, put her hands through his chest… but Kenzie was stronger now. Teagan didn’t think there was anything greater than Kenzie’s power.
Certainly not a security guard.
A dying security guard.
She could see his soul, or the ghost of him, in his body. She could see it becoming detached. Teagan watched, unmoved. She wondered what she looked like from the outside, a half dead girl and a bright spirit sharing the same skin. His ghost was hanging on, still connected to his body as his body continued to beat and breathe, but Teagan could see the cracks between life and death all over him.
She put her hand into one of the cracks and tugged, the temptation to do this seemed as inconsequential yet potentially satisfying as picking a scab. Everything in her head was singing yes, yes, yes in a voice that was partial Kenzie’s – but everything about Teagan was partially Kenzie’s.
He died, and Teagan and Kenzie took hold of his fresh, baby ghost and with a rush of power, sent it straight to the other side. No longer was she just a cousin giving another cousin a ride, no longer was she just a possessed girl; Teagan was a medium - Teagan was now a fucking medium.
~
They ran down the street – no, Teagan ran down the street but she had never left less alone, never felt more like a they instead of a single lonely soul. One or both of them was laughing, giddy with power. They were stronger – stronger than the living and stronger than the dead!
The world spun around Teagan – whole patches of blindness swum across her vision but Kenzie could see perfectly and Kenzie made sure they continued to dance down the street.
Kenzie danced down the street until the street turned to mud and swallowed Teagan’s ankles.
Swallowed Teagan in cold ancient mud right to the knee.
Fear pulsed through her and it was only Kenzie’s control of her body that stopped her retching.
The bog man had found them – perhaps Kenzie’s light was shining too brightly to miss. He stood facing Teagan, the hollow places in his yellow, desiccated face where his eyes had once been stared right through her. He wanted Kenzie’s bright light, or he wanted Teagan’s life, or he wanted someone to see him, hear him. Perhaps he longed for some road to final, eternal peace. Perhaps he wanted the world to suffer as he had suffered, bound for a millennia in cold, cold mud.
We are stronger than the living and stronger than the dead Kenzie reminded her.
This man represents hundreds or thousands of years of haunting a bog, and they were two bright, shining girls who danced between life and death, unstoppable, stronger than the living and stronger than the dead.
There was a crack in him, just as there was a crack in the ghost of the security guard. There was a way to grasp him – but unlike the guard's ghost he grasped back, bony hands around Teagan’s wrists so tight the blood vessels beneath her skin burst like fireworks – she screamed out loud, and her voice echoed down the empty Liverpudlian street.
But he was a dead thing just a dead thing and Teagan was so much more than a dead thing – she screamed and she screamed as Kenzie opened the door to whatever hell waited beyond this life and Teagan tore him from this place and Kenzie forced him through and Teagan panted and panted but when she looked down she found her feet standing on damp asphalt, not a trace of mud anywhere.
No one can touch me, she thought.
But she’d seen through to the other side when Kenzie opened it, this time.
She’d seen Kenzie’s mother Jasmine watching her.
She’d seen the face of Patrick Ravensdale.
She’d seen a thousand others, drawn to whatever beacon they’d created when they split the worlds.
But they had closed that gap and left the dead on the other side.
Waiting.
Watching.
Neither Teagan nor Kenzie had never wanted to live so vividly. Teagan could feel her heart beating in her throat and she relished it because every beat meant she was tied to this place, and couldn’t be drawn into the other. Kenzie relished it, this life inside her.
The sick sick vicious dizzy pain was another weapon against death; it meant she was still alive. Pain meant the dead couldn’t reach her.
Kenzie laughed and laughed – or was it Teagan?
They laughed.
They ran on, spinning occasionally around lampposts, till the lights of the motel drew them in. The fluorescent welcome sign pulsed as she walked underneath it.
Teagan stepped around Leon’s car, her hand running over the bonnet. She knew Joss was in there. She knew it was time for them to leave.
“JOSS!” Wild as an urban fox her voice pierced the quiet air. “JOSIAH MACARTHUR, COME TO ME.”
The welcome sign died in a burst of sparks above her, falling about her body like the stars were crashing down.
They were unpredictable, and freakishly strong. Ghosts had no concept of how hard they could push a human body. Possessed people had been known to leap off buildings and survive, to be hit by a truck and walk away.
Teagan hadn’t considered herself possessed till now. She was just a girl, sharing her body with the soul of her cousin she was trying to save.
But after the car accident, that changed. Teagan no longer felt like there was enough of her in her body for it to be considered sharing. Kenzie still had all the parts of herself, while Teagan’s self had been bashed out of shape, whole pieces of her had been snapped off. She was reduced to pain, sickness, desperation, and a tenuous connection to her own body. Kenzie still had all her wits about her, still had all her self, and filled up all the empty bits inside Teagan till Teagan felt like she was the ghost and Kenzie the living girl.
Possessed people were dangerous.
It was some hour close to midnight, and Teagan’s body was walking across the hospital grounds. She had gone down the fire escape, and jumped the last distance. Her legs hurt but not as much as her head. She had one long grass stain up her sleeve where she’d rolled, and she'd shed the neck brace. Kenzie had gotten tired of waiting for Joss. He’d promised he would visit during the day, but he’d broken that promise.
Kenzie had promised she would stay with Teagan, so Teagan had to come too.
They met a security guard on the perimeter of the grounds.
Teagan wasn’t so sure what exactly happened. Kenzie left her body for a moment. The man screamed. Teagan stepped around his body after it fell. He was shuddering all over. She started to shudder too, till Kenzie rejoined her.
She stopped shuddering.
She wondered if she’d killed him.
Possessed people were dangerous.
Wait, she thought, and she and Kenzie turned together to look at the man. Teagan didn’t know what Kenzie had done to him, perhaps the same thing she’d done to Joss one night, put her hands through his chest… but Kenzie was stronger now. Teagan didn’t think there was anything greater than Kenzie’s power.
Certainly not a security guard.
A dying security guard.
She could see his soul, or the ghost of him, in his body. She could see it becoming detached. Teagan watched, unmoved. She wondered what she looked like from the outside, a half dead girl and a bright spirit sharing the same skin. His ghost was hanging on, still connected to his body as his body continued to beat and breathe, but Teagan could see the cracks between life and death all over him.
She put her hand into one of the cracks and tugged, the temptation to do this seemed as inconsequential yet potentially satisfying as picking a scab. Everything in her head was singing yes, yes, yes in a voice that was partial Kenzie’s – but everything about Teagan was partially Kenzie’s.
He died, and Teagan and Kenzie took hold of his fresh, baby ghost and with a rush of power, sent it straight to the other side. No longer was she just a cousin giving another cousin a ride, no longer was she just a possessed girl; Teagan was a medium - Teagan was now a fucking medium.
~
They ran down the street – no, Teagan ran down the street but she had never left less alone, never felt more like a they instead of a single lonely soul. One or both of them was laughing, giddy with power. They were stronger – stronger than the living and stronger than the dead!
The world spun around Teagan – whole patches of blindness swum across her vision but Kenzie could see perfectly and Kenzie made sure they continued to dance down the street.
Kenzie danced down the street until the street turned to mud and swallowed Teagan’s ankles.
Swallowed Teagan in cold ancient mud right to the knee.
Fear pulsed through her and it was only Kenzie’s control of her body that stopped her retching.
The bog man had found them – perhaps Kenzie’s light was shining too brightly to miss. He stood facing Teagan, the hollow places in his yellow, desiccated face where his eyes had once been stared right through her. He wanted Kenzie’s bright light, or he wanted Teagan’s life, or he wanted someone to see him, hear him. Perhaps he longed for some road to final, eternal peace. Perhaps he wanted the world to suffer as he had suffered, bound for a millennia in cold, cold mud.
We are stronger than the living and stronger than the dead Kenzie reminded her.
This man represents hundreds or thousands of years of haunting a bog, and they were two bright, shining girls who danced between life and death, unstoppable, stronger than the living and stronger than the dead.
There was a crack in him, just as there was a crack in the ghost of the security guard. There was a way to grasp him – but unlike the guard's ghost he grasped back, bony hands around Teagan’s wrists so tight the blood vessels beneath her skin burst like fireworks – she screamed out loud, and her voice echoed down the empty Liverpudlian street.
But he was a dead thing just a dead thing and Teagan was so much more than a dead thing – she screamed and she screamed as Kenzie opened the door to whatever hell waited beyond this life and Teagan tore him from this place and Kenzie forced him through and Teagan panted and panted but when she looked down she found her feet standing on damp asphalt, not a trace of mud anywhere.
No one can touch me, she thought.
But she’d seen through to the other side when Kenzie opened it, this time.
She’d seen Kenzie’s mother Jasmine watching her.
She’d seen the face of Patrick Ravensdale.
She’d seen a thousand others, drawn to whatever beacon they’d created when they split the worlds.
But they had closed that gap and left the dead on the other side.
Waiting.
Watching.
Neither Teagan nor Kenzie had never wanted to live so vividly. Teagan could feel her heart beating in her throat and she relished it because every beat meant she was tied to this place, and couldn’t be drawn into the other. Kenzie relished it, this life inside her.
The sick sick vicious dizzy pain was another weapon against death; it meant she was still alive. Pain meant the dead couldn’t reach her.
Kenzie laughed and laughed – or was it Teagan?
They laughed.
They ran on, spinning occasionally around lampposts, till the lights of the motel drew them in. The fluorescent welcome sign pulsed as she walked underneath it.
Teagan stepped around Leon’s car, her hand running over the bonnet. She knew Joss was in there. She knew it was time for them to leave.
“JOSS!” Wild as an urban fox her voice pierced the quiet air. “JOSIAH MACARTHUR, COME TO ME.”
The welcome sign died in a burst of sparks above her, falling about her body like the stars were crashing down.
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