Spellbound Moniker— Part 1: The Scarab
“Please forgive me, I don’t mean to be rude, I’m just…not used to anything like this.” Said Mr. Morrency as he nervously tapped his pen against his desk. The people from The Center stood opposite of him. They looked relatively normal, but that almost made him more nervous.
“I kind of expected…” he began, but stopped. “I don’t know what I expected. Wizard hats? Capes?”
They looked at each other and exchanged weak laughs.
“That’s alright, Mr. Morrency.” Said the tall man in front. He had introduced himself as Fletcher. He wore an unbuttoned red dress shirt over a black t shirt. No cape or wizard hat, but he did wear sunglasses indoors at night, which admittedly was rather unusual. “We understand.”
“Yes,” said the woman next to him who had been introduced as Pallas. “Misconceptions about our work and The Center in general are all par for the course. We don’t take it personally.” She was more smartly dressed, in a navy blue pantsuit, looking like one of the executives that walked in and out of Mr. Morrency’s office during the day.
The office was all but dead now. They were the only ones there except for maybe the janitors downstairs. At least in theory.
“I’ve always thought we should have capes.” Piped up the third one who wore an oddly heavy raincoat for what time of year it was. He had been introduced as Matteo.
Given the rumors of The Center and the kind of people it attracted, they didn’t look as strange as he might have thought, but they were not without their peculiarities.
The fourth one came up behind them a few moments after they arrived and didn’t even fully enter the room. She had dark purple hair and wore a white men’s dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and suspenders. She looked half asleep and leaned lazily against the door jamb. She didn’t seem to want to add to the banter and no one introduced her.
“I’ve never needed anything like this. A friend of mine said The Center would be able to help me.”
“Well tell us more about the problem, if you will.” Said Pallas. “You say you’re being stalked?”
“I don’t know. I’ve felt it for weeks. Almost two months now. Like no matter where I go or what I do… I have eyes on me.”
“That’s not an uncommon feeling.” Said Fletcher.
“Or inaccurate.” Said Matteo. “Cameras everywhere anymore, man.”
“It’s more than that.” Said Mr. Morrency. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. It feels like something’s getting…closer.
“Three weeks ago, my wife went away to visit her mother. I was home alone overnight, and in the morning i was bleeding from a cut in my arm. Then last week, I was driving home, and I swear I felt something grab the steering wheel and yank it away from me. I almost spun into oncoming traffic! I could have been killed!
“Even just sitting here waiting for you to show up, it felt like something was watching….inching in closer. I was so glad when you finally showed up! it feels like I’m a hair’s breadth away from…”
“From what?” Said Fletcher.
“I don’t know.” Lied Mr. Morrency,. “Just please, can you make it stop?”
The three in front looked at each other, as if passing information silently with their eyes. The one in the doorway continued to doze, unperturbed by the goings on around her. Mr. Morrency found it a little disrespectful, but he was in no position to be picky about who helped him.
“What do you think, Pallas?” Said Fletcher. “You’re best at this part.”
“I’m not sure. I do sense…something. Have you had any unusual encounters lately, Mr. Morrency? Any conflicts with anyone peculiar?”
“No. Not that I can think of?” Said Mr. Morrency.
“Get any strange gifts in the mail? Cryptic letters? Anything like that?” Said Fletcher.
“No.” Mr. Morrency said again.
“Eat anything weird?” Said Matteo. “Anything make you sick? Like wicked sick?”
“Has a loved one died recently?” Piped up the woman in the back. Instantly the three others spun around as if they had just heard a ghost.
“Who the hell are you?” Said Fletcher.
“Back up! Back way up!” Said Matteo.
“Wait,” said Mr. Morrency. “She’s not with you? I thought she was with you? She came in like a second behind you.”
“We are here on behalf of the Center!” Said Pallas. “State your name and business.”
“Relax.” Said the woman, exasperatedly. She stood up straight and sauntered into the room. “I’m with The Center too. I mean, I’m not as jazzed about it as you all seem to be, but I’m licensed and bonded or whatever.”
“Bullshit.” Said Fletcher. “Why wouldn’t they tell us you were coming?”
“Because they didn’t know. Neither did I. I saw you guys coming in here, I wondered what was up. I was on my way to get dinner, but this distracted me. You guys like burritos? They’re great at this place up the street.”
They all looked at her incredulously.
“You guys seem pretty strong. Y’all are two stars right? Maybe three stars for Corey Hart over there.” She said, regarding Fletcher. “That’s an interesting amount of juice to be walking down the street at once. And I couldn’t ignore all the bad mojo. Believe me, I tried.” This time she crooked her neck towards Mr. Morrency.
“We don’t need your help.” Said Fletcher. “Show us your license.”
“I don’t have it on me. Like I said, I was on my way to dinner. I followed you on impulse. But what harm is there if I watch? I’m sorry for not announcing myself, I just kind of figured you’d clock me on your own.”
The three of them looked at each other uneasily. How did they not notice her?
“Look.” Said Mr. Morrency, “I don’t care who solves my problem, I just want it solved.”
“See?” Said Jackie. “Listen to Lou Grant over here. He gets it.”
“How many stars you got, then?” Said Matteo. “We got seven between us, and we all know how to work with each other. Don’t get in the way.”
“Last thing I’d want to do. I definitely have less than seven.”
“What is all this about Stars?” Mr Morrency said, agitatedly.
“The Center ranks its agents out of five stars.” Said Pallas. “Matteo and I both have two and Fletcher has Three, as she guessed.”
“Sounds like I want somebody with five stars, then. For the money I’m paying, why am I getting the small fry?”
“All due respect, sir,” said Fletcher almost scoffing, “what you’re asking for is a Moniker, and this Job doesn’t warrant that.”
“A what?” Said Mr. Morrency.
“Anyone with four or five stars is given a title based on an animal that reflects their skills or accomplishments.” Said Pallas, clearly trying to keep the person paying them happy. “The Mantis, The Boar, The Wolf, etc. we colloquially call them Monikers. They are given a lot more autonomy because they are a lot more skilled individually. They earn their position by creating new techniques and accomplishing difficult feats.”
“Fletcher’s going to be a moniker soon, right Fletcher?” Said Matteo, only half jokingly. It was no secret between them that Fletcher had lofty aspirations. They liked to chide him, but it was undeniable that among this team, he was the strongest.
“That’s right. I’m not officially a moniker just yet, but it’s my goal. Part of how I get there is solving problems like these. Please trust us to solve your problem Mr Morrency.”
“Well okay,” said Mr. Morrency. “Just please, somebody, end this. I can’t live like this anymore.”
“So again, who died? Would have been in the last five years.” said Jackie, this time her hands on the desk leaning full on into Mr. Morrency’s personal space. It was at this time that her tattoos were visible. On the back of her right hand was a blue circle surrounding the word “yes” and on her left was a red circle around the word “no,.”
He was put off by how cavalier she was being— all of them were less deferential than he was used to— but he had to admit she was right.
“My sister. She died about two years ago. What does that have to do with anything?”
“He said this started weeks ago.” Said Pallas, “We’re looking for a more recent cause.”
“And you said you wouldn’t get in the way.” Said Fletcher.
“You’d have to know the direction of the problem to know if I’m in the way.” Said Jackie smugly.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, anyhow.” Said Matteo as Fletcher seethed. “If that was the problem, it would be obvious. It can’t be the cause, so leave it to the professionals, freelancer.”
“Cause of what?” Barked Mr. Morrency, who was losing more of his patience with every second.
“The cause of your curse.” Said Jackie, bluntly.
“We don’t like to use that word.” Said Pallas nervously. “It’s an outdated term with problematic implications that might distort the perceptions of laymen.”
“They don’t want you freaking out.” Said Jackie. “But it’s fine. You can freak out. I won’t mind. I get it.”
“I’ve had just about enough of you.” Said Fletcher. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. All you’re doing is scaring the guy and making our job harder. I am two seconds from throwing your ass down the stairs out there.”
“But is she right?” Said Mr. Morrency, “You said you sensed something…”
The three of them paused and exchanged awkward looks again. Jackie walked to a window in a different part of the office and stared out of it as if she had gotten bored and forgotten what they had just been talking about.
“It’s true, Mr. Morrency,” said Pallas, “there is what we in the business call…an aura…around you. And it does, unfortunately, seem…negative…in nature. But it is not outside of our ability to deal with.”
“We were trying to figure out what might have caused it.” Said Matteo, “before she got in the way.”
“And you don’t think it’s a…ghost?”
“Ghost is another problematic term,” said Pallas. “Think of it this way: everything living consumes and gives off energy in different forms. This energy, in this context, is what we call an aura. We at The Center can sense and interact with this energy—these auras. Some call it magic. And we call ourselves mages for shorthand.”
“Auras can be passed from living thing to living thing,” said Fletcher, “sometimes knowingly and sometimes unknowingly. It can also be imprinted on objects, places, food…all kinds of things. That’s what our questions were about. If you had encountered one of these auras that someone left, either intentionally or unintentionally, that might explain the problems you’ve been having.”
“And yes,” interjected Pallas again, “sometimes the aura from a living person persists after death. A more enlightened term is ‘apparition.’ But such a thing is rather rare. Am I right in assuming your sister was not…like us? Not a mage?”
“No. Not at all.” Said Mr. Morrency. “She’d be even more weirded out by this stuff than I am. No offense.”
“None taken.” Said Pallas, “that’s generally the only way Apparitions occur naturally. Mages have sharper, more potent auras than…normal people…and when we die, we tend to leave these…imprints behind. It doesn’t happen to every mage, and even then, it’s rarely something to worry about.”
“That’s under normal circumstances…” said Jackie.
“No!” Said Fletcher, “enough of your crap! Get out of here, already!”
“Having a strong aura is the normal way a ghost is born.” She said, utterly ignoring Fletcher. “But Aura can accumulate just like dust, or mold. And just like leaving a wet towel in a hot room, there are things we humans do that cause Aura to accumulate quicker.
“Mr. Morrency, did you and your sister get along?”
“That’s it!” Said Fletcher. “You’ve run out of chances to stop interfering. You’re going out the hard way.”
He grabbed her right arm, but she grabbed him with her left and flipped him over her shoulder. His sunglasses went flying. As he lay groaning on the ground, she planted her foot on his chest as calmly as she had been the whole time. Matteo and Pallas were stunned and did not move.
“Mr Morrency?” Said Jackie, “Your sister?”
“N-no…” he said, quivering in his chair. “No, we didn’t get along. Not for a long time.”
“You had some kind of disagreement over her house, am I wrong?”
“What? How did you know?”
“Because she hasn’t shut up about it the whole time I’ve been here. What did you do?”
Jackie looked past him, as if there was someone behind him talking.
“Is that all? The house isn’t there anymore, is it?”
“No…I sold the lot. It was a total tear-down. It took me long enough to get someone to buy it. She was a hoarder! The house was a nightmare.”
“And she died there.” Said Jackie soberly.
“Yes, but I never stepped foot in it after she was dead! I could barely stand it when she was alive! And she didn’t want me there! We had so many fights! I tried to help her but she wouldn’t have it!”
Matteo and Pallas looked at each other uneasily, as if starting to put together a puzzle with an unpleasant picture.
“It doesn’t matter if you were there. Mages aren’t actually the only ones who leave ghosts. Aura is amassed when a person, or persons, have a lot of very strong, focused thoughts and feelings over a long period of time. Resentment, fear, hate, and even positive feelings like love and hope can build up over time and take shape as ghosts. Death doesn’t even play that big of a part in it.
“You weren’t cursed when your sister died. You were cursed when you let the thing she poured all her fear, resentment and sickness into be destroyed. She knew it would happen, and already blamed you. So when you finally did get rid of the place, all that built up resentment sought you out, and has been terrorizing you ever since.”
“But I had to!” Shouted Mr. Morrency. “I had to get rid of that awful place!”
“Hey, I don’t blame you. But the ghost does. It’s okay, though, I can help get rid of—ggaaaggh!!”
Before Jackie could finish her sentence, Fletcher’s hand wrapped around her ankle and bright blue sparks surged from his fingertips. She cried out in pain, and Matteo tackled her off of Fletcher. Pallas went over and produced from seemingly nowhere a red wire which quickly wrapped around Jackie’s arms.
Fletcher stood up and dusted himself off. He found and put on his sunglasses and fixed his hair before walking back to Jackie and kicking her in the side. She ejected a soundless blast of air.
“Smug bitch.” He said through gritted teeth.
“Damn dude,” said Matteo.
“That wasn’t necessary!” Said Pallas.
“I’m the highest ranked one here! I’ll decide what’s necessary. This whole job has become a pain in the ass. Stay on her, Matteo. Don’t let her up until we’re done. Pallas, come help me. We’re just gonna brute force this and be done with it.”
“Are you sure? She was starting to make…” began Pallas, but Fletcher shot her a look over his sunglasses that indicated that he was, indeed, quite sure.
“What are you going to do?” Said Mr. Morrency uneasily.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s not a ghost, it’s just bad aura that’s built up and is making you paranoid. We’re going to snuff it out with our own auras. It might feel strange, but it shouldn’t hurt, so just hold still and we’ll be done in a few minutes.”
Mr. Morrency wanted to object but found his well of excuses to be empty. He sat silently and watched them take their positions on either side.
They outstretched their hands and Mr. Morrency could see a faint glow around their fingers. He felt a small pressure of some sort in the air. It was like being underwater, but staying completely dry.
Jackie, while still on the ground, struggled. The bindings dug into her wrists as Matteo continued to kneel on her back.
“You idiots!” Grunted Jackie, “That won’t work! You can’t just cancel out an aura that’s taken on such a defined form! You’re basically expecting a giant cockroach to sit still while you spray it! All you’re gonna do is…”
Again, she was interrupted. This time by a strange and excruciating noise emanating from behind Mr Morrency. It sounded like a woman screaming, but also as if her vocal chords had been replaced with many rusty, serrated knives.
The pressure between Pallas and Fletcher had gone from subtle to crushing and Mr. Morrency’s nose began to bleed. His eyes rolled back and he began to lift from out of the chair.
He hung there for a moment, suspended in the air over his desk, until a shape began to coalesce around him. Some kind of creature, vaguely feminine in appearance, but gray with greasy, dark hair, and long, knotty arms and legs. Sticking out of its body at haphazard angles were the remnants of broken furniture— bed posts, chair legs, a lamp— but at the crest of its back was poor Mr. Morrency, engulfed up to his neck in what served as the creature’s flesh.
“Make it angry…” said Jackie, completing her thought. “You’re just gonna make it angry. Is what I was gonna say.”
It continued to scream as it thrashed at Fletcher and Pallas.
Fletcher hurled a blast of lightning much like the one he used to incapacitate Jackie. It punched through the creature’s flesh like scissors through paper, but the hole it left seized back up almost instantly.
Pallas conjured more of the magic wire bindings that she had used to tie up Jackie, but they too could not find purchase on the creature. It was all they could do to dodge the swiping of its lanky clawed arms, and even that was becoming increasingly difficult with each moment.
“Why isn’t anything working?” Said Matteo frantically, while still dutifully kneeling on Jackie’s back.
“Because It’s only barely made of matter.” Said Jackie. “It’s mostly magic. They’re using physical attacks against something that’s less than five percent physical. I mean it could work if they killed the guy. He’s the anchor at this point. No ghost if there’s nothing to resent. But then how would y’all get paid…
“…and murder is wrong.” She added after a moment. “Obviously. Goes without saying.”
Fletcher caught an errant jab from the creature full to the stomach. It latched one of its arms around him and stuffed him unceremoniously into the mass of matterless grey flesh next to where it had Mr. Morrency.
“There’s gotta be another way.” Said Matteo.
“Only if you get offa me, numb nuts,” said Jackie. Matteo did as he was bade, and Jackie rose to her feet awkwardly.
“Pallas!” Shouted Matteo, “quick, undo your bindings!” But before Pallas— still urgently trying to avoid Fletcher's fate—could react, Jackie simply flexed her forearms and broke the red wire encircling her wrists.
She approached the huge creature; it took up a chunk of the office, but was nimble enough to swipe at Pallas and keep her off balance.
Jackie held out her right hand with the “yes” tattoo towards the creature. It glowed softly, and a careful observer might have heard a gentle melodic hum emanating from it.
The creature stopped what it was doing immediately and turned its attention entirely to Jackie. It lunged at her with one of its massive arms. She rose her left arm—decorated with the red “No” tattoo— and it emanated a dark,staticky type of energy. Instead of the musical hum of the right hand, this had a horrible, electronic ringing to it.
Every swipe of the monster was knocked effortlessly by Jackie’s left hand while she walked closer to it holding out her right.
She got close enough to the creature that she now had her right hand firmly upon its chest. It had stopped moving entirely. With her right arm holding steady, Jackie wound up her left arm and brought it around, punching the creature firmly in the gut.
There was a blinding flash, and the creature seemed to vanish. Mr Morrency and Fletcher fell to the ground, and where the solid form of the monster was, how there was a pale, translucent vapor floating around the nucleus of Jackie’s right hand.
“Mr. Morrency!” Said Jackie. Mr. Morrency was disoriented and didn’t recognize his own name until she shouted it again.
“Mr. Morrency! Can you hear me?”
“Um…yes!” He said, frantically.
“Answer my questions as honestly as possible! Did you hate your sister?”
“No! I didn’t hate her! I loved her!”
“Did you want her to be lonely?” she asked
“Of course not!” He replied. What was this?
“Did you hate yourself for not being able to help her more?”
“Of course. I’ve missed her for a long time. I’ll always miss her.”
The swirling vapor condensed for a moment, and Mr. Morrency could almost swear he saw his sister’s face, as he knew her when she was healthy, smiling tearfully. It then exploded outward; harmless puffs of vapor kissing each of their faces before disappearing into nothing.
“Was…was that…” said Mr. Morrency.
“It was an echo.” Said Jackie resolutely. “A loud echo. But just an echo.”
“How did you do that?” Said Matteo. “I’ve never seen a spell like that.”
“Of course not. I made it up. It’s called ‘give and take.’ The left hand breaks down the bonds between magic; lets me break spells, like those bindings, and fend off attacks from magical beings like that ghost. And the right hand strengthens magic. Ghosts find it soothing. Lets me connect to the core of them so I can find what’s turning them toxic like that.
“Some ghosts just need to be dispelled by force, but some can be released peacefully. This one needed a little of both.”
“Wait…” said Matteo. “You made your own spell? Doesn’t that mean…”
“Oh my god,” said Pallas, “Jackie…is your name Jacqueline St. George?”
“Yup,” said Jackie. “Though I hate Jacqueline. Just Jackie is fine.”
“What??” Said Fletcher having just found his feet. His sunglasses had lost a lens in the commotion and he now looked terribly lopsided. “I know that name. You’re a Moniker!?”
“Sure am. Four stars. They call me The Scarab. I guess cuz they symbolize life and death. I like to say it’s ‘cause I’m a mean little bug always dealing with shit.” She laughed quietly to herself, clearly pleased with her own joke, while the others stared in amazement.”
“Thank you!” Said Mr Morrency, pushing past the others to catch Jackie in a firm embrace. “I can feel it! It’s gone! I feel so much better.”
“No problem, boss.” Said Jackie patting him on the back. She carefully extricated herself from his grip and started heading out into the hallway. “You can bill The Center for the damages. These guys will help you figure that out.”
She hurried down the stairs as the three other mages took in their damaged surroundings.
Fletcher chased after her, catching her as she was halfway down the stairs.
“Wait!!” He shouted down the stairwell.
“Aw man for real? We don’t have to like, fight now, do we? I haven’t eaten yet! My favorite burrito place is down the street and it closes in half an hour!”
“No, just…why didn’t you just tell us who you were? You’re a Moniker! We worship…We’d have done anything you said!”
“I don’t know…I didn’t think about it. I honestly wasn’t paying too much attention to you guys. The ghost was too loud. I could hear it up the street. The only reason I got involved was to shut it up.”
Fletcher stood in amazement. The dirty freelancer off the street was his superior in every possible way. She had sensed the problem from so far away and had dispatched it just as easily. The only thing that had gotten in her way for even a moment was him and his team.
“Hey man!” She shouted up to him, as he was stuck in his reverie, berating himself.
“What kind of burritos you want?” She said. “I’ll grab some for you and your buddies. Ask the old guy too. But for real, they’re closing soon. Hurry up.”
It took a second to process, but Fletcher ran back to get the others’ orders. As he did, he couldn’t help but muse that he was glad he was wrong: the job did warrant a Moniker.
