Page
Legacy Name: Page

I've known about the spirits for as long as I can remember. They're these little, golden-furred imp creatures that live amidst the dustiest corners of the house, hiding in the backs of closets among unused clothes or in the shadows of the crawlspace beneath the cellar stairs. I don't know why I can see them, but I think it might have something to do with a car crash I was in when I was little. I was too young to remember any of it, but from what I've been told, I flat-lined. Obviously, they brought me back.

The funny thing about the little spirits (house imps, I like to call them) is, up until last week, we'd never spoken a word to each other. They knew I could see them, but we had this unspoken pact going on between us: you don't mess with me, and I won't mess with you. Needless to say, they got a real kick out of stealing my mom's jewelry and hiding it in unexpected places, but my things forever remained untouched. I could see them, I knew they were there, and for some reason they respected me for it.

Last week, however, a spirit named Flibbertigibbet -- I call him 'Flib' for short -- broke the pact; he asked me for help.

A new kind of spirit decided to move in a while back, and it was really obvious why they chose my place to stay. My house had a lot of imps, and these new creatures -- big, black nasty things that looked like massive slugs -- ate them. I didn't like seeing the little guys get devoured by those inky monsters, but I didn't want to get caught up in the middle of some supernatural war, so I just stuck to the sidelines. But then Flib had to go break the silence and ask me for help, because apparently only a human could make the monsters go away.

I told him no. Not because I didn't care, trust me, I cared a lot, but because I was scared I wouldn't be strong enough to do it. I worried that the slugs might turn on my family if I tried to help the imps.

I was a damn fool. I should have helped Flib back then. Now I'm just praying he's still alive.

"Flib?" I shine my flashlight into the alcove beneath the cellar stairs. The beam slices through the darkness, revealing only dust motes and cobwebs. I feel like there's a ball of ice lodged in my gut. What if he's dead? "Flib, are you in there? We need to talk."

Still no Flib. I think I see a slug pulsing wetly far in the back, but it quickly vanishes into the wall, startled by the sallow glow of my flashlight. I wait for a few more heartbeats, and when no one shows, I turn around, only to scream when my flashlight illuminates Flib's brilliant, emerald-green eyes.

"Christ," I say as my flashlight nearly slips from my grasp, "don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry." He grins, and I can tell he's not sorry at all. "Didn't want that, ah, fellow in there to see me until you'd banished him. Thanks for that."

"You're welcome. And, look, about those...things. I know I said before that I wouldn't help you, but I've kind of got a problem now, so I don't think I've got a choice anymore."

Walking on all fours, he brushes up against my leg like a cat. "I'm certain I already know what your problem is, but," I feel his little claws scratching my skin through my clothes as he scales my lanky frame to take a seat on my shoulder, "tell little Flib all your troubles."

"My little brother went missing last night," I feel my throat start to close and my eyes prickle with the beginnings of tears, "but I know he didn't leave the house. The only logical thing I can think of is that -- "

"You're correct in assuming they took him," Flib says, cutting me off mid-sentence. "But, your brother isn't the only one they've taken from you, Page. Have you checked your parents' room at all today?"

His words cut me like a knife. I'm suddenly filled with cold dread. "No."

I bolt for the stairs, nearly tripping on my own feet in my haste to ascend. This can't be happening. I pray that this is just a nightmare, but I know the floor beneath me is too solid and my fear too real for this to be a dream.

When I reach the room it is vacant. The only evidence of my parents ever having been there are the two human-shaped indents in their mattress. I take a glance out their bedroom window and see the shiny blue hull of their sedan, parked in its usual place in our driveway. I dash back downstairs and do a quick search of the house, hoping to find them having breakfast in the kitchen or watching TV in the living room. I find no one.

"I would have warned you that the others were growing in power," Flib still clings to my shoulder, "but they would have killed me if I sought you out myself." He pauses. "It hurts to lose your family, doesn't it?"

The tinge of contempt in his tone is not lost to me. "I'm sorry." The words feel hollow, like I should say more. But I can't. I'm far too numb to say more.

"I still have some family left," there is sadness in his voice, and it pains me to hear it, "and there is still time to save yours. It'll take the others a while to prepare before they can harvest human life essence."

Flib holds out a piece of blue chalk and I take it from him, arching a blonde eyebrow in confusion. "What's this for?"

"You're going to need it to open a portal to the spirit world. That is, if you decide to go. But, be warned, once you're in, your sight won't protect you anymore. Spirits aren't allowed to harm you in this world because you can see us. It's part of our Law. But in our realm, everything is fair game, sight or no." Flib leaps down and trots off towards the kitchen. "C'mon, we need to get you a knife. A steel one."

"A steel one?" We enter the kitchen just as I ask the question. "Shouldn't we want an iron one? Or a silver one? Don't supernatural beings hate iron and silver?"

He leaps up onto the counter and pulls the longest steel knife he can find out of my father's knife rack. He hands it to me, handle-first. "These are not fairies nor are they werewolves. Trust me, you're going to want steel. Now, for the portal." Flib clambers up my side, returning to his perch on my shoulder. "Go find a door, any door, and draw a circle on it with that chalk."

The front door is on the other side of the kitchen, so I move over to it and draw the circle as instructed. It looks silly against the brown wood of the door, and I know that if my mom were still here, she'd kill me for it. "Okay, now what?"

"Because you can see us, you don't need to draw anything extra to make a portal. All you need now is to put a drop of your own blood in its center." Flib points a clawed finger at the knife, and I know what I must do.

I prick the center of my palm, just enough to make it bleed, and press my hand into the center of the circle. I hold it there for a few moments, making sure that enough blood oozes onto the wood, then I withdraw. A tiny red blotch sits in its center. I wipe the remaining blood on my jeans.

"Now you open it," says Flib.

I do, and instead of looking out at the orange and yellow brilliance of a fall afternoon, I'm staring into a swirling mass of grey and black. Shadows shift and dance in its depths, and I can hear voices, some sounding nearer than others, whispering fervently in tongues I do not know. It's terrifying, but somehow darkly beautiful.

"You can still turn back now, you know." Flib's voice is deadly serious. It sends me into a fit of shivers. "They can't hurt you as long as you stay in this realm."

I shake my head, fighting the urge to cry. "No, Flib. I'm going. I should have taken care of this mess a long time ago when you first gave me the chance. I created it, so it's only right that I clean it up."

He nods, green eyes growing ever larger. "Alright, then. I'll go with you, and I'll help you any way I can." I feel his claws sink into my skin. "Even if it kills me."

I tighten my sweaty grip on the handle of the knife and take a deep breath, battling the tears and steeling my resolve. I tell myself I must be strong, for a weak girl will be unable to stand against such powerful creatures. If I am too hesitant, I know I will die. After taking one last look at the world around me, in case I never see it again, I close my eyes and step into the void.

I'll do anything to get my family back.

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Story and profile by Death.
Art by Jevonne.