Jack's Windfall 4

Jack knew this would be the trickiest part of the job; obviously he couldn’t exactly just go and dig up a corpse and animate it. However, he knew many ways around this. A summon required the right offering. Flesh for animal spirits like Luxator, coins for any Psychopomps, but for an actual human spirit you need to use smoke. The smoke can be incense, a bonfire, or even a cigarette. Lighting a cigar, he walked into Mt. Hope cemetery. He hid the rodent blade in his coat pocket, and searched the graves for Jenny Fitzroy. Fortunately, he was able to find the headstone near a bench.

He could feel the cold leaking into his body from the stone bench. As he breathed the smoke out, he noted how thin the border felt. A cemetery would always be closer to the other world, but as he looked around, Jack could see the apparitions of the deceased. Ghosts surrounded him, their bodies showing the horrid mutilations that killed them. The older the grave, the more faded the wraith.

Jack sat on the cold stone, watching Jenny Fitzroy’s grave. With every exhale, he was muttering her name into the smoke. Soon, there was a sizable cloud, and he could see an essence of a body within. Soon, she started to materialize, her form twisting to a more upright position.

When Jenny was alive, Jack could see she was a beauty. A button nose, wide eyes, and an instinctive smile. Jack’s teeth clenched when he considered that she never got a chance to live long, dying as a teenager for the sake of love. The girl was dead for several decades, but still it seemed she was strong. He looked down, and noted that there were fresh flowers on the grave.

The flowers, perhaps they were a clue. While he was not a witch, he had dealt with several covens. He knew there was a language to floral arrangements, so Jack examined the flowers. Zinnia and Yarrow to strengthen the feelings of loss, Tansy and Taragon to enforce aggression within the spirits, and Marigold to increase the power of despair. A dark spell written in flowers. There was an almost poetic twist to that.

Jack looked above the grave. His smoking was finished coalescing around Jenny’s wraith. She floated her way in front of Jack, a look of sorrow covering her face. “Hello Jennifer Fitzroy. I am a shaman trying to help this city, and I need to help you.” Jack pointed at the bouchet, “Do you recall who left that with you?”

The Ethereal specter floated to her headstone. Then she pointed at Jack's pocket, where he was keeping the chalk. Jack pulled out a piece, and it hovered in mid air. Soon, it began writing. Where was Harold? Jack frowned. “I’m sorry, Jennifer. He was buried someplace else.” Soon, the headstone was covered with Harold’s name. A ghost was an echo, a being of obsession. Jack needed to find a way to calm the spirit. “I know a way to take you to him!” The scribbling stopped, the chalk fading off the headstone.

Jack pulled out an envelope. He took some dirt from the grave and placed it within. He could bind the two gravesites with a ritual, but he would need a sample from the other grave. He put out his cigar and stood up with a sigh. He looked around and realized a tour group was starting to approach. He ran out of the cemetery, afraid that they might think he was some madman. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He got back to his car without interruption, but as he was driving, another car caught his attention. It seems to be following him. He decided to drive around, hiding the envelope of dirt in his coat. Every turn he made, the other car would as well. He was definitely being followed, but not by a professional. How much did this other party see? Jack wasn’t sure. Unless they were linked to the other world, they would have only seen the most blatant of apparitions, and the nature of magic would have hidden the events from most. Could this be the culprit who created the bouquet? He made a turn into a diner. He may need to confront this head on.