step, my terror intensifies, ravaging my psyche. In my last barracuda case, this is the point when I failed. I let the fear get the better of me, and my client forced me out of her prematurely, and she refused to let me back in.
I hug my chest. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”
When I reach the upstairs hallway, I sit on the floor and breathe, deep.
“Let’s play in the backyard,” the octopus says, beside me. “You can be the mommy, and I’ll be the baby.”
“I can’t play right now,” I say.
“OK.”
“Did you see which room the old man went into?”
“You shouldn’t play with him. He’s not nice. How about you be the baby, and I’ll be the mommy?”
I notice the frost on the doorknob of Rhianna’s childhood bedroom. I stand.
“You can’t go in there,” the octopus says.
“I have to,” I say.
Then the octopus opens his maw, and reveals barracuda-like teeth. He vomits out a cluster of slimy cobras and tarantulas. And while I’m not particularly frightened of these creatures, Rhianna’s a different story.
Out of instinct, I close my eyes, but of course this doesn’t help. Rhianna can still see with my perception, and nothing can block my vision.
I feel faint. “Don’t do this.”
The octopus upchucks another batch. “Play with me in the backyard and I’ll get rid of them.”
The bonds holding me and my body together are deteriorating fast, so I hurry toward the bedroom. But the door’s now coated with snakes and spiders.
I’m afraid touching the doorknob would push Rhianna over the edge.
So I face the octopus. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate your concern for your friend. But I’m not her. I’m a spiritual being named Ash.”
“You mean like a ghost?” the octopus says.
“Yeah.”
“But ghosts are just pretend, remember? Your mom said they’re hallucinations caused by carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“Well, she was wrong.”
“You don’t look like a ghost.”
“That’s because….” And I stop myself, because there’s no point arguing with a defense mechanism. This octopus only has one thing on his mind, and that’s what I need to exploit. “If you don’t dispose of these creatures, I’m going to throw this body down the stairs and break my neck.”
The octopus rubs the top of his head. “I don’t understand this game, Rhianna.”
“This isn’t a game.”
And after the snakes and spiders turn to glass, I turn the doorknob and reach my destination.
In the bedroom, the old man paces back and forth between two beds. And on each bed is a little girl.
The old man’s smiling, tossing a snowball from hand to hand.
After a while, Rhianna hops off the bed.
And the old man throws the snowball at her face. “I told you not to move!”
Rhianna cries.
I want to hold her, comfort her. But I can’t.
The old man picks up Rhianna and drops her on the bed. Then he takes a glass unicorn off the dresser. He acts he’s going to throw this at Rhianna as well, but he smashes the figurine on the wood floor instead. He laughs.
“Are you ready for some fun, Meghan?” the old man says.
Meghan doesn’t move or say a word, and the old man climbs onto her bed, and the dog in the room growls.
Rhianna hugs her octopus, tight.
I’ve seen enough.
And so, I leave Rhianna’s body, and she collapses to the floor, weeping and heaving.
I put my hand on her shoulder, though I know she can’t feel me. “I’m sorry.”
A few minutes later, she looks me in the eyes. “I should’ve helped her.”
“You were a child.”
“I should’ve saved her.”
“It’s not your fault.”
She curls up, tight.
And maybe she feels broken, but I know better.
Now that she remembers the truth, she can stop blaming herself for what happened to her sister.
She can heal.
Hours later, Rhianna sits up. “Everything we saw tonight makes a strange sort of sense to me, except for that guy in the box. Why did his voice sound like you?”
“He has nothing