Page 58 of Purrfectly Haunted

We make quick work of showering—in separate stalls this time, as we aren’t the only ones using the communal showers at this hour—then run downstairs, two cats zooming between our legs.

There is a gloom in the staff kitchen that even our good mood can’t pierce. Lana and Shirley’s eyes are heavy with lack of sleep and worry, and I feel bad for enjoying myself this morning.

“The others have agreed to manage the hostel while we take a break,” Shirley explains. She nursing a giant mug of black coffee.

Lana is smothered by four cats. Two on her lap and two at her feet. Seeing them whole and healthy reassures me after last night.

“I’ll call our boss now,” James says, all mirth evaporated.

He pulls his phone out and starts pacing the kitchen as we watch him in silence. He puts the call on speaker. The boss picks up on the fourth ringtone with his usual “Thank you for calling ExorSquad, where all your hauntings go to die. Gerald Pickett on the phone. What can I do for you?”

“Hey, it’s James. We have a situation here. We—”

“Who?” the man on the phone retorts like a confused owl.

“James Sato.” Silence on the line. “One of your employees?” I can see a muscle of his jaw flex as he grinds his teeth.

“Oh right! I thought you were a client. You’re the one I sent to Edinburgh right? Are you done with the job?”

“No. Like I said, we have a situation here, and we need reinforcements. There is—”

“No can do. Sorry my boy. All teams are busy. But good luck and make sure to keep the client satisfied!” The client in question, Lana, makes a sour face as he keeps talking. “I’ll be expecting your report by next week. Have fun kiddos!” And then he promptly hangs up.

James stares at his phone, bewildered and angry. He calls again but this time it goes straight to voicemail. On the fourth try, he almost throws his phone through the kitchen but I rescue it before he does. “Motherfucker!”

“Looks like we’re on our own,” Shirley says, and Lana nods grimly.

“We’re not,” I say after a moment. “They’re four of us, seven magical cats, and a sentient house. That’s a better team than ExorSquad could have provided. We’ll figure this out.”

The two women look at me, eyes bright for the first time since we entered the kitchen.

“Well said,” James says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “She’s just another ghost, there must be a way to exorcise her from this place.”

Shirley jumps off the table and drops her now empty mug in the sink. “I’m going to get my laptop. We need to do some research.”

“I’ll get the ExorSquad handbook,” James says.

Lana gently pushes the cats off her lap and stands up. “And I’ll will get wicked Fergus’ journal.”

In the matter of seconds, all three have run out of the kitchen.

“I guess I’ll make tea,” I mumble in the quiet room.

Pearl meows at me.

We spend the entire afternoon researching ghosts. Paper, books, and the laptop are scattered over the kitchen table, the remnants of our breakfast abandoned on the counter. I must admit, for a history nerd like me, doing a deep-dive into ghosts like this is actually pretty fun. They’ve been a part of my life for a while now, but I was in denial and I tried to avoid looking into paranormal activity. Now it feels like I’m finally taking control.

We made a non-exhaustive list of all the ways to banish a ghost we could find, from salt, to burning the remains and sacraments. Religious texts seem to be working only if the ghost was a believer, but they have no actual power. Earl Lynch theorised in his journal that mediums like me could interact with the veil, and that’s probably why some exorcists were good at their job, and it had nothing to do with their prayers.

The ExorSquad handbook is full of absurd rules that are entirely too precise to be random. Some ghost extraction specialists must have faced pretty strange situations on the job.

By the time night comes, we made a few runs to the nearest shops in town to get supplies. More salt, herbs, holy water—because it doesn’t hurt to try—and things to burn. We also got some face masks for the spores—who knows what they’ll do to our lungs—and Lana paid for padded armour from a biking shop just in case the ghost decides to get handsy with us. Our best defence against possession is me. I can physically push the ghost out of the possessed like I did with the Warrior the other night. Or at least, we hope so.

We’re all tired but too wired up from worry and coffee to take naps, so when midnight comes, we’re just eager to get going. We wait until curfew, Lana bossing around a few guests taking their time to head out to the dormitories, then we get ready.

The seven cats walk with us to the basement door, and having them by our side makes me feel more protected than with the padded jacket. Our mouths are covered by heavy-duty white masks, the kind workers use to avoid breathing dust. Lana and Shirley have both braided their hair back like Viking warriors. James looks at ease in his combat boots and cargo pants. He was born ready.

The house too, is part of this team. She lights up the way, and when we reach the bottom of the stairs leading to the basement, the door opens slowly on rusty hinges. The four of us aim our flashlights at the oily dark beyond. It feels like staring into a black hole, cold and lifeless, for something that stopped breathing a long time ago dwells in its depth.