“I was wondering when you’d show up,” the exorcist said with a shake of her head. (She personally preferred the term incorporeal entities removal specialist, but it was impossible to advertise with.) “It was common knowledge your place was infested by the time you bought it.”
“Haunted,” the tired young man corrected. “I have ghosts, not bedbugs.”
“Good thing too,” she winked. “I wouldn’t know how to get rid of the latter for you.” She gave him a reassuring nod. “But your problem I can solve. Give my team twenty-four hours, or twelve if you’re willing to wait until the next full moon, and we’ll have your house cleansed top to bottom. Tell you what. If it turns out there’s more than four in there, I’ll give you the bulk discount too.”
“There’s six,” the young man replied. “But I do not want the whole house cleansed. I only want you to remove three of them.”
The medium-turned-businesswoman looked up from the form she had wanted to hand him. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t want the whole house cleansed, I don’t want it to be spiritually uninhabitable.”
“You-” She gaped. “Why on earth wouldn’t you want to sweep the hole house?”
Even through the fatigue on his face the young man looked indignant. “Because there’s kids in there!”
Her lips moved silently around unspoken words. “There’s…”
“Kids in there!” he repeated. “Children! Three of them. Two little ones and their older sibling, I think. They haven’t talked to me yet.”
“Sir, you’re talking about ghosts,” she emphasized.
“I’m talking about children,” he said stubbornly. “And I’m not throwing them out. They’re more scared of the others than I am!” He shook his head. “No, the wailing one in the attic and the two who keep scratching at the windows and leaving wet footprints on the carpet definitely need to go, there’s no reasoning with them. But the kids stay. If you can’t guarantee their safety during your procedure I will find someone else to help me.”
Never in her twelve years on the job— “Well,” she said hesitantly, looking at her potential client rather more nervously than before. “I suppose I could call in a colleague to…I presume some sort of personalized ward would do it.” She crossed her arms. “But this is highly irregular! It means a custom job. I won’t be able to give you a reliable estimate of the price, and it’s certainly going to cost you!”
The young man smiled the smile of a man who had very recently bought a twice cursed, triple haunted house both willingly and gladly. “We all live under the spectre of capitalism,” he said wryly. He dragged the form towards him and began to fill in his address. “The kids stay. Whatever the costs.”
