Killer of the Dead
The servants said the man in the bowler hat could kill ghosts. Eloise did not believe that for a moment, but that was what they said. She had been creeping through the passageways of the house, listening to conversations, and hoping for something fun to help her pass the time.
Thaddeus was not in the mood to play, and she couldn’t find him anywhere. She thought he might have been up on the fourth floor, but the house was not giving her access to it, so she stopped looking.
Carl was still in the oubliette. His body had long since rotted away, but sometimes he liked to just stay there with his bones. Eloise did not fully understand his infatuation with his remains. She had been forced by Vivienne to stay with her own corpse after she died, at least for a time, and she did not enjoy it one bit. It reminded her too much of the feeling of helplessness when she was trapped in the walls and no one could hear her. She did not like to feel helpless.
“He came in from Australia,” the gardener said in passing.
“I heard he was from South Africa,” one of the maids replied.
“Never heard that accent before, so I don’t rightly know,” the cook added.
The man in the bowler hat had been in the house since just before the sun rose. He arrived in a car driven by a grim-looking man in a black tuxedo who stayed outside. Mr. Anderson greeted him personally, which Eloise found unusual. Soon enough, they were talking business, and she left them to it because it was boring, and she hated being around Mr. Anderson. He was a bad person and made her feel bad.
The man in the bowler hat was all anyone in the house could talk about. There had not been a guest in many months, and none were summoned by Mr. Anderson. His last guest had been Carl. That had not turned out well, so things boded poorly for the latest guest.
“I want you to answer any questions he has,” Eloise heard Mr. Anderson tell the staff. “Do whatever he needs you to do and defer to him as you would defer to me. Is that understood?”
She had not heard the beginning of the speech or the man’s introduction, but it was clear Mr. Anderson was putting some degree of faith in him.
After he spoke to the staff, they retired to the library together, and she did not want to eavesdrop there. Because of Mr. Anderson, and also because that was where Carl was. She did not want to disturb him.
Instead, Eloise found herself sinking down through the floor into the cellar. She did not go there often, but she was learning that there were times she could sneak in, usually around midday, and no one seemed to care. Vivienne did not come out often in the bright sun, and the Dark Ones seemed to sense it was out in full force and avoided it as well.
She could sneak into the cellar and watch the Dark Ones creep about. Usually, they ignored her as though she didn’t exist, but sometimes, they talked to her. Not often, though, and not for long. They easily lost track of conversations, and soon, everything degraded into hate and violence. But sometimes, if she was lucky, she could get one to focus on something for five or even ten minutes.
She did not consider the Dark Ones friends. They were too unpredictable and too dangerous for that. Instead, they reminded her of wild dogs. Her mother always cautioned her against trying to feed or pet a random stray.
“They might look friendly,” she warned, “but they can bite.”
“Did you see the man upstairs?” she asked the assorted shadows. “They say he can kill ghosts.”
The Dark Ones hissed and growled and cursed in angry whispers.
“No one kills us,” one said, creeping closer to her. She stayed still, feeling slightly nervous but not wanting to show it, as the shadow scuttled about. “We are life beyond death. We are forever.”
She shrugged.
“That’s what the domestics said.”
“Just a man,” another of the spirits replied.
“Foolish man.”
“More of Anderson’s lies.”
“Tricks,” the one close to her said. “If Anderson hired him, it’s a deception. Always deception.”
“Like when he hired Carl?” Eloise asked.
“Carl Hesselschwerdt,” the Dark Ones hissed, several voices in unison.
