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63. Missing persons
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 10:56:53 +0000 UTCThe journals changed after the father’s death. It was the new wife who wrote them, and it became pretty obvious that she did not like her late husband’s daughter. The first problem was that Ester would inherit part of the wealth if she ever married, as it was stated in the man’s testament to leave a dowry.
But the bigger issue was that the family's talent for magic skipped a generation and was inherited by Ester.
The journals describe few occurrences of what the author suspects was the devil’s influence and witchcraft. The descriptions of hearing voices and seeing illusions in the night in particular seemed real.
Later the woman found a new husband. The man turned out to be a greedy asshole, but worse, as he had violent tendencies. Although the woman never described it fully, blaming the bruises on ghosts or on Ester simply being clumsy and not paying attention, it was easy to see what was going on.
The next few months were a sad story of abuse mixed with outbursts of magic.
Interestingly, Ester’s natural talent seemed to be mind-oriented, as Linda complained about nightmares, voices, and headaches. She finally went to a priest, who blamed it all on her late husband’s occult and magical pursuits.
Now, even with her oh-so-deep faith, the woman was informed about the worth of all the occult literature and rare books that were part of her late husband’s collection. The problem was that technically all the occult materials were bequeathed to Ester in the testament, and she didn’t have the right to sell it. So she ended up moving all of it to the attic and locking it away.
If I had to guess, she must have locked away the magic crystals as well, not knowing what they were. Magic crystals that Ester used to refill her mana.
Things got worse and worse. Ester became more and more depressed, with the incidents of magic growing increasingly cruel. It finally culminated in an incident where Linda almost lost her life when the stairs started moving and she fell.
Connecting the incidents to Ester, who by now got the title of devil’s child, she had her diagnosed with some mental disease and locked away.
Initially in her room. However, after numerous escape attempts and a report by one of the concerned house servants to the town police, she was relocated to the attic.
With mana crystals back, things escalated once again. The attic became a no-go zone for the family as they finally installed a cage around the entrance and fed the girl like a rabid animal.
Ester was only mentioned a few times after that. She was apparently killing rats and cataloguing them or doing some other “evil” stuff.
Only one more incident was mentioned. A son of one of the servants went to carry food to Ester and ended up falling down the stairs, breaking his neck. Afterwards, Ester seemed to be talking to the boy, as the journals mentioned that the boy's mother would sit for long hours by the attic trying to speak to her son.
I put down the books and sat there thinking about the case. Some parts of it were becoming clearer, but other parts were getting stranger. Mostly, the Celtic cross didn't seem to fit anywhere in the story. The local church was just a normal, mundane one, at least from the descriptions.
Maybe some hidden cult?
No. Adding things without evidence to fit the story was never a good idea.
The only good news was that I thought I was starting to understand the source of the ghost's obsession. It was companionship. She grew more and more lonely until she found the Ouija board. It was actually not an artifact to contact the dead but a way to store souls, with the mirror and the board serving as tools to communicate with the spirits inside the cage.
It was quite a clever contraption.
She must have started to communicate through it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she found a way to push the servant boy down the ladder to have someone to talk to.
But that was also bad news. If companionship were the obsession, then the ghost probably wouldn’t pay any attention to what we do now that it has a soul to play with. Not before she devoured Liam.
But that version also had holes. Mainly, why would she let go of the remaining people? Sure, they summoned her for Liam, but she wasn't at the devouring stage yet. She could have kept them here, attacked when they tried to leave. She even threatened them to stay.
So why be content with Liam?
Even if he had a talent for magic, that shouldn't matter, not enough to let go of so many people who also fit the obsession pattern.
We took everything related to the case and went downstairs. We would have to move outside and sleep in a tent tonight, as I was not risking it in the house.
“So with the story, while we can’t completely exclude an anomaly, it looks like an obsession, right?” asked Ophelia, looking through the journals.
I nodded. “Yes, I doubt Ester would have known how to change herself into a ghost, not with the knowledge in those books. The problem is that even if we guessed the obsession correctly, we don’t have anything to get her attention. I doubt just any of us would be enough.”
“Maybe her father’s stuff? If we threaten to destroy it?”
“No. If it was not part of her obsession, then I doubt she even remembers she had a father, let alone his belongings.”
Ophelia and I went back to the living room and started on the preparations for the night. We moved all the important things outside while discussing the case.
Daniel was listening to us talk as he looked at all the clutter we dragged down from the attic.
“So is the ghost obsessed with my brother?” He finally asked.
“No, more likely obsessed with the concept of companionship.”
“Why would a ghost want friends?” Emma asked.
Interestingly, they seemed to be naturally directing their questions at Ophelia. I was happy with letting her do the talking.
She took a while to organise her thoughts before speaking.
“It’s not that the ghost is obsessed. It’s that the obsession is the only thing it knows, its only personality trait.”
Emma and Daniel were listening intently. They were trying to make sense of it, trying to put it all together. But the truth was, no matter how many questions Ophelia answered, new ones would always pop up until they went in circles.
The best approach was to reassure them and cut the conversation. But she needed to learn.
I picked up the books as Ophelia was trying to explain to them what happened.
“A ghost is created when someone’s feelings are so strong that they rip apart their soul when it is ascending after death. When someone dies, their spark–”
“Spark?”
“Um, like the center of the soul. It’s… complicated. Not important for now,” she shook her head. “When they die, they leave this world, but sometimes parts of the soul can be left behind. When the emotion holding a given person here is simply anger, they become grudges. Simple ghosts that try to scare and finally kill you.”
“And Ester is one? She hurt my brother.”
“Well… It’s complicated. Ester is most likely an obsession. Obsessions are created when the thing holding your soul on Earth is not a simple emotion but something you are infatuated with, something you didn’t want to leave behind. That obsession then mixes with the ghost’s instinct to feed on souls, and the case becomes… tricky.”
“Tricky?”
“Yes. It won’t attack on sight. There is usually some sort of a trick, a release mechanism related to the spirit’s initial compulsion. In this case, we think that Ester was obsessed with companionship due to her loneliness.”
“Wait, so she won’t hurt my brother? She just wants a companion, right?”
“Well… It’s complicated.”
I could see some anger on Daniel’s face at another unsatisfying explanation.
“The ghosts also want to feed, so they usually end up feeding from the source of their obsession. So if you become friends with Ester, she will try to kill you.”
I winced a bit. Never outright tell the client the ghost is going to kill them or anyone they care about.
“T-then we have to go. Do something.” Daniel shot up.
Ophelia realised her mistake as she tried to backtrack, but didn’t know how, as her understanding was limited. So she tried to hit them with “I don’t know for sure,” which was another mistake, making the situation worse.
Altogether, a good attempt. She had the knowledge, but was too compassionate for the client.
“Obsessions usually first try to satisfy whatever it was that they loved so much,” I spoke up. ”So if a ghost was obsessed with a toy, it would first try to play with you using that toy before trying to feed off you. Ester will first try to satisfy her need for companionship and then try to feed.”
I could see Ophelia look at me with thankful eyes as Daniel turned in my direction.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I lied.
The guy relaxed a bit.
I checked the time. Sundown was coming soon. We needed to hurry.
We gathered the most important books and went out of the mansion into a tent I had brought with me.
Once we were all set, I started on the preparations. I first began to put together a metal circle around the tent. It was made from arches that connected together. Once I had the circle down, I took out salt and poured it on the metal. The grains stuck to it as the surface was prepared for exactly that purpose.
Daniel and Emma looked with confusion, while Ophelia approached me, watching the process with interest.
Using the salt as a symbol of purity, I began on a ritual to stave off ghosts, basically turning the salt circle from a suggestion into a proper barrier. It was an easy ritual similar to the dome of protection spell, but against ghosts. And after cutting a pentagram in the ground and placing a mana crystal inside it, I was done.
Emma and Daniel were looking at me like I was a crazy person, while Ophelia was drawing the circle inside her notebook.
“Don’t touch that crystal, whatever you do or hear through the night,” I warned them.
After some reassurances, they wouldn't go near the crystal, the two went to bed after the tough day they had, while Ophelia and I sat over the books, trying to learn some more.
“So why not offer the ghost another friend? We could do the ritual they did and name you, right?” she asked after some time.
“Do I look friendly?”
“Yeah, good point. Then how about me? We just need to lure it out, right?”
“I doubt it will take the bait. It has something to obsess over right now. I’m afraid it won’t go out until it’s done with Liam.”
Ophelia sighed a bit. She then lowered her voice and asked, “Is it even possible to get him back alive?”
“Yes. But we need to know more about the obsession, more about its source. There might be something else that will get the ghost’s attention.”
That and something to fill out all the holes in the story.
We spent another few hours in silence, reading over the books by flashlight.
But there was nothing.
The problem was also that the woman who took the place of Ester’s mother was partially a graphomaniac, describing everything about herself, from her breakfast to putting on makeup, all with a “deep” commentary.
I cringed reading a part about a meal: ‘The servants did bring unto us curds with new-baken bread. The bread wrought by many hands, by many souls. And I perceived that bread, fashioned into the goodly form which lieth before me, was made for this cause alone, that it might be spread with fresh curds and eaten. For such is the bread’s appointed end, even as mine own end is greatness.’ Reading it was a pain, like trying to unravel a curse. Sadly, my mind wasn’t immune to stupidity, nor boredom.
We tried to find something in the stacks of documents, maybe some other cases of hauntings, but there were years and years’ worth of record-keeping.
It was a hard task.
Now in the middle of the night, I finally sighed, reading one of the journals describing the beauty of the morning as a metaphor for the young, fresh skin of its author.
I looked up. The night was calm, and the sky was clear enough to see the stars. The night sky was always eye catching. Stars usually symbolized the incomprehensibly vast space and sometimes even the abyss, but so many were fascinated by them. From astronomers to sailors and wizards, all looked up at them with interest. Myself included.
I relaxed a bit, tracing the constellation in my mind.
After a while of losing myself in my own thoughts, I noticed Ophelia looked at me, putting some documents to the side.
“No luck, huh?” she asked.
“None at all. Unless you want to know what Linda had for lunch and how it reminded her of her beautiful eyes.”
Ophelia laughed slightly and then raised another journal, one of those she had gone through. She then started reading in a pretentious voice. “It is a grievous sorrow of the looking-glass, that its fair beauty is bound unto that which it doth reflect. Yet is it also its exceeding joy, that I am he who standeth therein.”
Now I started laughing. “God fucking damn it. I've read ancient curses less damaging to the mind. My willpower is keeping me up, but how did you not fall asleep reading that?”
“I used to study through the entire night to keep my scholarship.”
I nodded slowly. Did that too. Although to hurl fire and shatter minds rather than for scholarship. But the idea was close enough.
“You’d make a good wizard, huh.” I chuckled. “The snake must be proud.”
She paused for a second. Her hand instinctively went to the middle of her chest.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“I read some journals by summoners in my family. You technically share a soul, so it celebrates your achievements.”
Ophelia smiled, looking in front of herself.
“Feels strange, but pleasant in a way. Like, I know it should weird me out, but it just... doesn’t. I just think, ‘oh yeah, there's a snake inside me now, cool.’” She tried to describe her feelings about the familiar.
I smiled at that description.
“I get that, trust me, feelings not matching the occasion are practically a family tradition for me. My clan has an entire code for those.” I relaxed deeper into the chair, letting go of any idea of continuing the research tonight. “It’s funny how those always come up when it comes to family. When I tell people about my childhood, they usually say that they are sorry. But for me, it was great. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
My eyes lost a bit of focus, glued back to the night sky.
I used to sit with my father, looking at the stars just like tonight.
I chuckled at a memory that came to me just then. It was of a night just like that, when I had to tilt the container with my father's head in it, so that he could look up easily. But I got distracted, and it fell from my hands and rolled down the hill. Abyss, my old man was pissed that night.
“Oh, sorry. I think I said I was sorry about your childhood when we first met.” Ophelia became awkward, as her voice broke me from the memory.
“Don’t be. It’s hard to understand until you have some of those unnatural sensations yourself.”
“Mhm.” She nodded slowly. “Sometimes… It feels like the snake’s my only family member.”
“I’m not surprised. It must–” I paused and furrowed my eyebrows, tilting forward.
Family.
I mulled that word over. There was the father and Ester. Later, Linda and another husband both mentioned, but it didn't feel right.
A thing that didn't fit the pattern.
A person was missing.
I turned to Ophelia with my professional demeanor back on.
“Ester’s half-brother. He’s practically not mentioned in the journals, right?”
