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[Ghst] Chapter 1: Sermons and Vintage Games
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 02:55:38 +0000 UTCOnce upon a time, the world was blessed with magical girls and guardians.
Noble and brave, they sacrificed their souls for power. Together with their adorable familiars, they gave up everything, to fight the forces of evil.
Beasts that stalk the dark mists of Avalon.
Bloodspawn from the halls of Shang-ri La.
The writhing monstrosities of the Hanging Gardens.
The walking dead under the black sun of Duat.
Yaoguai and Yokai.
Angels and demons.
Countless creatures the subject of stories, fiction and myth intruded into reality with the advent of the Veilsurges. Dark tears in reality, that led to mythical worlds beyond humanity’s comprehension.
But the deadliest of creatures, that stood above all the rest, were the ghosts.
Paranormal monstrosities that wrought untold destruction.
Those bright, noble and kind souls fought with everything they had.
Humanity’s final hope.
They failed.
Evil triumphed.
Years have passed, since their eventual defeat. The Veilsurges continue. Humanity is haunted at its every step, by creatures of the Veil, the paranormal and the eldritch.
Mysteries lie around the corner. Horrors, lurk at the edges of your vision.
In the shadows cast by the neon lights of the ghouldark future, will you rise, as a magical girl to put an end to—
“Darn it. I was after a fictional game. I’m trying to run away from reality, not revisit it,” Evantra Wraithmarked whispered under her breath. She realised that the premise of the game she had intended to buy hit a little too close to home, despite having been released long before the fall of magical girls.
Evantra watched as the store clerk of the vintage game store chewed her gum, utterly apathetic to her dilemma. Without breaking eye contact, the girl blew a bubble, and Evantra watched with begrudging admiration as it flashed a bright green before popping.
The store clerk had long, lush red hair, tied into a simple pony tail and venomous green eyes to match the bubbleflash gum that she chewed.
“This was the one you asked for. You wanted something vintage, you got it. Looks like the writers made the right calls. They were too on point, it seems, predicting the present. You ever hear about manifestation? Our old, idiot ancestors thought that if you believed something would happen, it would come true. Maybe the fans of this game wished our delightful reality into existence. Maybe if Forces Against Darkness wasn’t so popular, we wouldn’t be in this ghoulshit.”
The store clerk muttered under her breath as she cast a glance at Evantra. The girl looked her up and down before grumbling under her breath.
“Manifestation? Send a hot piece of ass my way instead of this sad looking sonofa teethling—”
Evantra sighed, as she turned away from the obviously jaded store clerk whose dating life had egregiously failed her. Even putting her angelic personality aside, it was no surprise she wasn’t having any luck here, out in the slums.
Evantra placed the game back on the store shelf, hefting her ectocard. It was coded to her biometric signature – carrying credits out in the open made you a target in Wisptown. Then again, thieves weren’t opposed to taking off a thumb if it meant getting at whatever meagre savings the residents of Wisptown had.
“The other day I almost got robbed out here. No wonder all of you carry ectocards around.”
Evantra raised an eyebrow as the clerk continued in her mindless chatter. Evantra had a sneaking suspicion that the girl was talking more to herself than she was to her. She watched her blow an errant lock of red hair to the side.
“Pff ectocards. Some idiot somewhere along the line decided “credit cards” were out of fashion and the ghosts were in. Let’s name our currency after the thing that ruined our future, ending millions of lives. Then the same lichdick decides to make them heavier based on how much money you have in your bank account.”
Evantra concealed a smile as the girl continued in her rant. Clearly bored out of her mind attending to the small vintage store.
“Something else to make the rich corpos feel good about themselves, when they sit around the table slinging their dicks around, along with their tailored, double embossed, matte black ectocards. Then sending assassins after Sally from mergers and acquisitions when she came in with a gold-trimmed one. With all the wonders of technology at their fingers, that was how they chose to innovate.”
Now that was something she could agree with.
The reason Evantra Wraithmarked was so passionate about vintage paraphernalia, was because somewhere along the line, society had lost its collective goddamnned mind.
When you started glorifying the paranormal, the very horrors that hounded and tormented you, something had to have gone wrong, somewhere along the way.
Her milky, white eyes widened, as they latched onto another game.
“Project Elsecaller Racing 2? No way.”
The store clerk perked up at her words, cautiously regarding her with renewed interest.
“Game was released when Elsecaller city was first developed. The last bastion of hope against the ghouls and ghosties, ironic huh? It’s fun as ghoulshit. Last one to feature all of the classic cars before the megacorps buried them in intellectual property suits.”
“Nice. I’ll take it.”
Her eyes lingered on the car featured on the cover. Calling it a mere car was doing it a disservice.
The Uriel I was a work of art.
Sleek in its design, with a X16 Shademist engine. Why an “X” instead of a “V”? Because the crazy, ingenious, overworked corporate slaves figured you could fit double the cylinders if you mirrored the construction of a conventional engine. It had changed the motoring industry forever.
If there’s something to give the megacorps credit for... It’s their cars.
Evantra Wraithmarked, for all she despised modern naming conventions that glorified horrors, was also a hypocrite.
She was a sucker for cars named after paranormal monstrosities and creatures of the Veil.
It gave them gravitas.
“Maybe I’ll manifest myself one of these. And a penthouse apartment in the heart of Elsecaller city.”
The store clerk snorted as she hefted Evantra’s ectocard, raising an eyebrow at her.
“This thing is lighter than my non-existent boyfriend. Good luck with that.” The clerk lazily resumed her chewing.
Evantra sighed.
“Maybe you’d get a boyfriend if you stopped being so rude to your customers.”
For a moment, they exchanged a long glance. Something resembling respect blossomed in the clerk’s expression.
“Huh. You know... You may have a point. I wish you the best of luck with your capitalist fantasies.”
“I hope a hot piece of... butt comes your way.”
Having secured a degree of mutual respect and deference, even if the store clerk had raised an eyebrow at her choice of words, Evantra left the vintage gamestore after transferring the ectocreds.
Seeing her meagre bank balance dwindle physically hurt her. When you lacked for the necessities, hobbies and pleasure fell to the wayside. Ordinarily, she would ridicule anyone of her financial standing that frivolously purchased vintage games.
Today, however?
She would allow it.
On some days, you just needed to keep the demons away. Well… the figurative ones.
For a moment, Evantra turned to regard the city far in the distance.
Gargantuan black towers were painted in glowing advertisements, carving their way irreverently into the dark clouds above them. Nezha Corporation transports circled the city’s airspace, some bordering the size of Wisptown itself.
Elsecaller City.
Once the city of hope, now the city of horror.
The playground for megacorporations and ghosts alike.
Evantra’s thoughts were interrupted by thunder, and she watched black lightning dance in the vast columns of clouds towering above her. Sleets of black ectorain began to pour down on the dilapidated pavement, as Evantra raised her hood to ward off the droplets. With a brief look at a phone, she bit down her nausea.
It was time.
She had a sermon to hold.
---
“The subject of today’s sermon… is grief. Matthew 11:28. It goes as such: ‘come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest’.”
Evantra paused, awkwardly shifting from behind the raised lectern as her meagre audience watched on.
“I believe what Matthew is trying to tell us… uhh, is that you can leave your worries with the lord. It’s possible to interpret the passage to mean…”
The pews of the dilapidated church were beginning to grow mouldy and stained, as rain leaked into the structure from cracks in its roof. There were no more than five or six people in attendance as she delivered her sermon, on a dark, Sunday night. She watched as their eyes wandered, drifting as she tonelessly recited the passage before her, utterly unimpressed with her... insights.
Evantra Wraithmarked knew that she was a sorry excuse for a preacher.
For one, she didn’t have the voice for it. Besides, what did a girl of twenty years of age have to offer by way of life advice to those twice or thrice as old as her? Especially one that didn’t particularly subscribe to the religion that she preached?
Although perhaps, she was an expert on this particular topic.
She felt her cheeks heat at her audience’s disinterest, the few candles spattered around the church flickered, barely withstanding the moisture and wind of the ectostorm outside.
“In my opinion… grief is… a stupid emotion.”
Her audience looked up with renewed interest. Interest, born from the contradiction between her vapid recitation and her subsequent words.
“When someone is taken from you, your world slows to a crawl. Nothing matters. After the initial pain fades, a weight grows on your chest. Gradually, insidiously. Until it suffocates you, and there’s nothing that you can do to remove it. The worst fuc— ahem. Excuse me. The worst part, is that life continues as usual for everyone around you. Uncaring of the loss that you were faced with.”
Evantra cleared her throat, trying to ignore the burn in her cheeks.
“My suggestion? Try to distract yourself… as productively as possible. Attempting to live up to what they hoped for you. Sometimes, taking solace in the lord isn’t enough—”
“Good heavens! Where does it say so in the bible young lady, hmm? Do you share scripture just to ignore it? Your parents would be appalled at your lack of decorum, young woman. Departing from the scripture at a whim!”
Evantra stuttered at Miss Miller’s words.
“I’m sorry, Miss Mille—”
“Puta madre, Karen if you don’t sit your fat ass down, you might do your back in. And if you do your back in, one of those bullets from the shootouts might find itself in your skull. You love to boast about how you’ve so skilfully dodged them, hmm?”
Evantra with a mixture of horror and appreciation as Carmen Alvarez, her neighbour, rose from her seat in the pews, at her defence. Miss Miller’s cracked lips had formed a perfect “o”. The woman looked like she was on the brink of fainting.
“You tell her ma!”
Carmen’s little boy Lucas, all of seven years of age, voiced his encouragement. Carmen smiled, and motioned for her to continue.
“Go on, Evantra.”
How did you do it, mum and dad?
She let out a long sigh. Evantra ran a finger over the edge of the bible before her. The singular item in the church, which had received care and attention, meticulously preserved.
Then she shut it.
“Sermon’s over, come get your food.”
She watched as her meagre audience rose from the pews and plodded forwards. Evantra pinched her temples as they took the food she had arranged for them. Loaves of bread with jam and biscuits. A meagre offering, still voraciously claimed.
They certainly weren’t here for her words.
The tin bucket labelled “tithes” in her distinct disorderly scrawl was rusting, and received no attention as they filed out of the church. Miss Miller cast her a dirty look on the way out.
“Eva. It was a beautiful sermon. They would have been so proud.”
Carmen and the adorable little Lucas beside her approached her lectern. Lucas beamed up at her with his gap-toothed smile. Her wonderful neighbours who lived next door. With hearts too big for the slums they were relegated to. To call them her ‘neighbours’ was reductive, they were the closest thing she had to family.
Carmen Alvarez had wavy brown hair tied into a simple, elegant ponytail. She had warm brown eyes to match, shared by young Lucas at her side. Capable of both mischief and warmth – neither extremity was denied to her, though her son tended towards the latter.
“Please Carmen. It was horrible.”
A mischievous glint entered into the woman’s hazel eyes.
“Your mamá and papa would have loved your interpretation. Grief is useless emotion that drags you down, when your loved ones would only want you to bloom. It is stupid…”
The woman paused, a mischievous smile creeping across her face.
“So was your father, when he chased your mother around, trying to get in her pants during service.”
Carmen exaggeratedly signed the cross, whispering under her breath, making Evantra grin. She knew full well, that for all her kindness, there was nothing Carmen loved more than to tease her. She also knew full well, that Carmen was the furthest thing to a Christian in this church, second to herself.
Carmen Alverez, the angel that she was, took great pleasure in her pain.
“It doesn’t need to be eloquent, Evantra. Just genuine. Keep trying.”
Evantra took a deep breath and nodded.
“Alright, alright abuela. I was just trying to follow your advice.”
Evantra was not one to take a barb lying down. There was nothing the woman in her mid-thirties hated more than being called a grandmother.
“Call me abuela one more time, and I’ll send you to meet the big man himself.” Carmen stepped forward, enveloping her in a brief hug, and Lucas joined her.
“Good job, Evantra. I meant it. You made them proud.”
“Thanks.”
She watched in abject horror as Carmen withdrew her phone, administering a few rapid taps. Evantra’s own phone vibrated, and her fears were confirmed when she realised the woman had transferred her a sum of ectocredits.
“For going outside your comfort zone. You bought that old game, didn’t you? I can smell you itching to play it.”
“Carmen, no. I can’t accept your money—”
She ignored her, turning towards the door with Lucas’ hand in her own.
“You’ve been talking about it for ages. Still. You can get to it after dinner no? My generosity is not infinite. If you flake on me chica, I’ll give your dearly departed parents something to grieve about. You coming?”
Evantra nodded, trailing after Carmen and Lucas.
Vintage gaming would have to wait.
---
“You excited to play it? This magical girl game?”
Carmen took her tattered coat from her shoulders to hang it on the rack beside the door. Evantra could hear the clattering of dishes and cutlery as little Lucas prepared the dining table for dinner.
“I actually decided on a racing game.”
“Huh. What was wrong with the other one?”
Evantra grimaced as she thought back to the blurb of Forces Against Darkness, the game she had been so excited for ever since briefly glimpsing it in Archaic Adventures.
“Looks like the developers predicted the future a little too well. I got the racing game instead.”
She beamed as she fished for the disc, holding up Project Elsecaller Racing 2 for Carmen.
“Wow a disc? I thought they only existed in the history books. You’re an old soul, aren’t you.”
Evantra snorted, as she walked into the kitchen, ruffling Lucas’ hair and helping set the table. Carmen leaned against the doorframe and smiled as they worked.
Before long, they were seated together, the feast that Carmen had prepared steaming on the table surface before them. Carmen had changed out of the faded pair of jeans she had worn to Evantra’s sermon. She was dressed in an airy summer dress, heedless of the howling wind and ectorain that alighted on the window frames.
“How was work today?”
Carmen stretched with a long sigh.
“Oh, you know. The bookkeeping is boring, but boring is good. The junkyard isn’t engaging in anything too shady, so there isn’t much to worry about.”
“Too shady implies you’ve seen things… moderately shady. Do tell.”
“Ma… have you seen anything shady.”
“You get her Lucas.”
Evantra snorted, as Lucas tugged lightly at his mother’s dress. Carmen shot her a look of silent accusation as she waved off her son.
“Enough work talk. Shall we say grace?”
Her eyes lingered on Carmen’s expression, and she noticed a brief flash of discomfort cross the woman’s expression. Evantra smoothly resumed the conversation, casting a smile filled with mischief at her host.
“Carmen, you aren’t even Christian. I hardly qualify as one myself. Saying grace? Really?”
Then she rolled her eyes, as the woman smiled at her.
“Oh, alright. For them.”
She reached her hand out to grab Lucas and Carmen’s who sat on either side of her.
Her face fell into solemn contemplation, as if considering just how she would artfully articulate her gratitude for the dinner that had been prepared for her.
“Grace.”
Carmen shot her a glower as she grinned back – giving her a taste of what her parents were used to dealing with.
Then she continued in truth.
“Thank you for the wonderful food, and even better company. Mum and dad… we all miss you. Because you decided to leave so early, we’ll be eating this amazing food on your behalf. Amen!”
“Amen!”
Lucas echoed her as Carmen sighed, shaking her head.
“Mierda, your poor parents. No wonder they left early, troublesome girl. Eat, eat.”
It was the second anniversary of her parents’ deaths.
Even though Carmen invited her over practically every other day, she made sure to hold a particularly fine feast on the anniversary of their death, and ensured that Evantra was kept company on the day. The only thing that could compare to her company, was splurging on a good vintage game to escape the thoughts that hounded her.
Evantra tried to give back in every small way she could, babysitting Lucas when Carmen had to pull overtime, or doing odd jobs around the house for her.
“How were the jobs today. You’re still picking them up from that app, right?” Carmen posed the question as she turned to her, beginning to dish out portions of food.
“Sure am. Nothing special. Cleaned some toilets over at the gas station. Mowed Mr Steven’s lawn, which looked like it hadn’t been touched since before the Veilsurges. Was a quiet day today.”
Carmen fixed her with a steady stare.
“I told you I would teach you the ropes with bookkeeping, but noooo—”
“Carmen, it wasn’t your fault that my parents didn’t leave me with any marketable skills but the word of the Lord. I’m not going to take up whatever little free time you have.”
“You know… I forget that you have such a mouth on you, especially with how harmless you look. Think I’m an easy target hm?”
Evantra greeted her with a small grin even as Carmen raised an eyebrow at her in exasperation.
“You are, abuela. Anyway. There was this girl at the vintage store who I haven’t seen around before, she’s quite the character—”
Clang.
Evantra was interrupted by the loud sound that echoed through Carmen’s home.
“Oh, that cat I swear I’m going to throw him out in the ectorain one of these days.”
Taco, the cat with silky orange fur that had one day decided that Alverez’s were living in his home. He had been part of the family ever since.
“I’ve got it ma.”
Carmen gave her son a soft smile as he pattered into the living room.
“I might lose my job, Eva.”
Evantra’s smile froze, and she turned to stare at Carmen. The woman’s face was stretched into a painful smile. All of a sudden, the lethargy and dark rings masked by her chipper expression became all the more pronounced to her.
“What? Is it Juno? Is he—”
“No, no. Juno’s far from a paragon of virtue, but he’s not to blame. A megacorporation is acquiring the junkyard.”
That’s a surprise… the megacorps stay out of the slums and the outskirts.
There’s limited profit to be made, and not a lot of people with pockets, let alone deep ones.
Juno’s Junkyard was one of the many small businesses that had attempted to fill the meagre vacuum created by their absence, fighting over the scraps that remained.
“Carmen. Which one?”
“No. I won’t have you stirring up any trouble on my behalf.”
“If you tell me, I promise I won’t. It’s not like I could do anything against a megacorp.”
“I’ll have your head if you do. It’s Caliburn.”
Caliburn Mining Industries.
An international mining conglomerate. Their latest ventures taking them to the asteroid belt, in collaboration with the Tsukuyomi Corporation.
They’re powerful and insane enough to brave the lost territories - land on Earth lost to creatures of the Veil.
What the hell are they doing here in the slums?
In Wisptown?
“I’ll keep an eye out for other opportunities Carmen. If anyone is looking for help, I’ll let you kn—”
She halted, when she noticed the expression on Carmen’s face.
Her gaze was fixed on the kitchen door.
“Is something wrong?”
Then her eyes widened as she came to the same realisation.
Lucas hadn’t returned.
---
Carmen’s scream tore out of her throat as she rushed forwards, held back only by Evantra’s tight grip on her forearm.
A black scar in existence, that spanned from the ground to the ceiling.
Along with drops of blood around its entrance.
Evantra pulled the woman back, steadying her as she looked into panicked hazel eyes.
“Carmen. Get me a gun. Now.”
Veilsurge.
