Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences Read Online Free PDF Page A

slipped from her hand. Through her hand. She watched as her solid hand became less so, her own colours and those of the carpeting blending together.
    Books bent to catch the dragonfly before it hit the floor, but it jostled in his hands and shattered, the pieces seeming to linger languidly in the air. One of the fine antennae snapped off and tapped quietly onto the floor next to two large teardrops that fell from Bettina’s paling face.
    “You didn’t know you’d gone, dear girl, that’s what,” Books murmured gently, seeming not to care about the device, wholly more concerned with Bettina, his eyes wide as he looked back up at her. “That’s why. Not until now.”
    “I’m so sorry, my child,” Mrs Marsh choked.
    Bettina walked backwards. No, it was more like floating. A few more tears splashed upon the floor. All that could manifest anymore, evidently, was her sorrow.
    “No. Stay, please stay Miss Bettina,” Mrs Marsh gasped. “Don’t go.”
    “I...I can’t...I don’t...know what to do...what do I do?” Bettina felt all her faculties drain from her. Her floating form took to the chair again but didn’t feel the seat beneath her.
    “Do you want to stay?” Mrs Marsh asked. “Do you want to help us?”
    “Mrs Marsh,” Mr Books began with a soft tone, “This... girl... is not a replacement for Katie. Please. You can’t think of her like that...”
    “I...I know, sir, I shouldn’t...” Mrs Marsh nodded, that stoic face suddenly red and ashamed, tears falling as she turned to stare agonisingly at Bettina. “See, you’re a lot like my girl, gone from this world about your age,” Mrs Marsh explained. “Trouble is my little Katie doesn’t haunt me. Wish she would.”
    Bettina felt her sense of self spin. Maybe she could stay on. For an adventure. For as long as it might last. Why not?
    “Well, I... I do like it here,” Bettina whispered. “And I like the... ghosts. My fellow kind... I suppose my perspective could be useful?”
    Books lowered himself to one knee, looking up at her with a delighted smile on his face. “It would be most unprecedented in the intelligence community to have a ghost agent,” Books said, trying to keep a casual tone but it was clear he was utterly captivated by the concept. “But you’d have to want it, young lady. Truly want it. You were mistaken for human because you had no idea of your state. You have to will yourself into being.”
    “But…you want me to stay?” Bettina asked. She’d never had a home. She’d never had a family. She’d never been taken in. Never wanted.
    A yearning so pure welled up inside of her. She wanted this indeed. This hope. This belonging. A distinct new happiness filling an old empty void. Suddenly, she was conscientious of the floor. She understood what was solid and what was shade and the coexistence therein.
    “Yes!” Mrs Marsh exclaimed, all stoicism cast aside, a mother longing for a child, no matter what kind of state that child was in...
    Bettina smiled, rose and glided to the door. As she did she heard Mrs Marsh hiss a breath, as if she was about to beg her not to go again. Bettina turned, feeling movement in a new way. It was interesting, fascinating. And yes, it was quite fun.
    Bettina would, most assuredly, tell them all about it.
    “I don’t need the device,” Bettina replied. “I just need to be with them. My kind. And then I’ll come home and tell you everything.”
    It was the first time Bettina had ever said “home”.
    And she had never felt so alive as she floated through the door and out onto bustling, ever-so-haunted New York City.
     

A Feast of Famine
     

Karina Cooper
     

    Galway, Ireland
    Winter, 1879
     

     
    Miss Lobelia Snow was a natural . As providence would have it, she had been born with the best of all the world about her: the exquisite appearance inherently guaranteed by excellent breeding, the effortless carriage of one confident with her place in the world, the fortunes of a well-heeled