Chapter Text
Storming up the hotel staircase, Abaddon ripped off his tie. It was a hideous thing, winding his neck and leaving behind a choking sensation that couldn’t be scratched away. His jacket followed, then his belt, and at last, he was able to relish the freedom he had been longing for the previous hours.
Normally, he wouldn’t have worn such stiff clothes. But it had been a must to attend the ‘party’ everyone was so psyched about. At least all the other humans were in the same attire, equally looking uncomfortable and miserable. He would have ripped it all into shreds decades ago if he were the only one to be tortured in it.
Footsteps scrambled behind him, picking up his trail of clothes. Even without looking, Abaddon recognized it as Ben’s. The boy had a habit of dragging his feet when walking. It also helped that there weren’t many Freelings left for him to keep track of.
Finally, Abaddon arrived at his stop. A sign hung on the door, letters scribbled in messy crayon: ‘ESTHER’S ROOM: KEEP OUT’.
Yes, he knew what they said. No, he wasn’t deciphering the human alphabet. The maker herself had just repeated it over until it was drilled into his mind. Of course, he’d respected it. One should, if they want others to return the sentiment.
Today, however, was not one of those days.
Gripping tightly at the door handle, he pushed it open with a force that could rip off the head of the deadliest hounds. The owner of the said room lay sprawled on the bed, with a laptop blaring some kind of weird music. A bored expression was plastered on her face, but it quickly disappeared the moment she met eyes with the two boys standing in the doorway.
“So…? How was it? Excited as I told?”
“No,” he crossed his arms and glared, “You PROMISED bloody sacrifices. Praises to the great king of the underworld. But what did I get? Nothing! Just endless dwellings on, on…” he shuddered, not able to fully voice the name. “What moron had the audacity to call this a ceremony to the dead? Hell is where all the great souls go, not heaven!”
Esther smirked. “Seems you had fun.”
Growling, he grabbed the nearest thing within his reach and threw it at her. Which happened to be the bunch of clothes Ben was holding in his arms. It was a strong throw, with every intent on hitting her, suffocating her, wipe that smile off her face. To his disappointment, it sailed right through her, making her only flicker before falling limply on the floor.
“Abaddon!” Ben leaped forward to pick up the fallen clothes. “These were rented, not bought.” Checking them over, he let out a sigh. “And funerals are supposed to be a last farewell to the dead, not some sort of demonic ritual.”
“That premise fails,” he said, eyes still glaring daggers at the newest ghost of the hotel.
Esther laughed, “Anyway, thanks for surviving through the entire funeral. Uncle Nathan now owes me a five-minute dance.”
“Well… not quite,” trailing off, Ben glanced at the demon next to him. “We almost got kicked out right before the burial.”
Esther gave Abaddon a quizzical look.
“They were disgracing your corpse!”
“They were just sprinkling water on the casket,” Ben said flatly.
“Holy water,” he corrected. “It was HOLY WATER.” Singing and chanting to the wrong gods? Bearable, as the soul herself wasn’t present to hear of it. Dumping that, that contamination over her dead body, the vessel which she had spent a long time to infuse with darkness… now that was an actual threat to her descent to hell.
Esther blinked, then nodded. “Yeah, not really great for us with relations to dark magic. Thanks, Abaddon.”
Abaddon nodded. Then, pulling out a phone from under his shirt, he held it out in her direction. “As requested.”
“Sweet!” Squealing, Esther jumped up and down. Soon, the schemers were lying side by side on their stomachs with the phone between them. “Right, so, you start by clicking the side button.”
“Wait a minute, that looks like my phone.” Ben felt around himself, the look of horror instantly floating onto his face. “That IS MY PHONE!”
“Don’t sweat, we were just borrowing it. No, Abaddon, the button on the right. Uh-huh, good. Now- no no no, go back, back. So from here, third row...”
“When did you, how did you-?”
“Annabelle’s birthday. You are too easy. Okay, now the top square. This and… YES!” Her eyes lit up as sounds began to seep out of the device. But her face fell as she properly sat down to watch. “Aw, it’s upside down.”
Abaddon frowned. He had done precisely what the girl told him to do. If the video was ‘upside down’, that meant that she had taught him wrong. And the square thing was a complex device to work with. Performing the task without getting caught made it exponentially worse. A minor misalignment should not negate the precision of his work. Where exactly was his owed gratitude?
“YOU HAD HIM FILM THE FUNERAL?” Ben shouted, tearing at his hair. “Are you guys crazy? Have you forgotten why Mom had it held at the town church in the first place?”
“Relax, I’m not going to disappear watching my own funeral,” Esther said, turning to lie on her back and craning her neck to watch at a better angle. “That sounds dumber than getting a shawl back.”
“Agree.” The shemon had many important things going on in her life before she died. Seeing a short video couldn’t be her unfinished business.
“No,” Ben huffed, reaching for his phone. “You might think it’s fine, but I’m not taking any chances.”
“Abaddon,” Esther called out. She didn’t have to, as he was already on the move, baring and snapping his teeth. The teen froze, but quickly recovered, narrowing eyes at his opponent.
“Step aside, Abaddon.”
The demon only scoffed. He had faced way more threats during his golden days in hell. Compared to them, Ben was a piping chick.
“Ooh, there’s Heather! Knew I could trust her to show up.” Esther commented on the film, ignoring the slapping sounds that started happening on the sidelines. “Most of my classes are here, too. Guess I lived a fuller life than I thought.”
“Why are you so keen on watching it, anyway?” Ben cried, pulling back as Abaddon slapped his hand away again. “It was just those with lectures and memorial speeches. One you’d always hated going to!”
Abaddon glanced back at Esther. She seemed too engrossed in the video to reply. He was the only one left to inform the oblivious boy.
“To narrow down the killer. The culprit always returns to the crime scene.”
Gulping, Ben slowly lowered his hands, breaking off their fight. Without another word, he slumped onto his sister’s bed and sat in silence, letting his phone screen flicker until it blackened out.
“…so? Found anything?”
“No,” Esther flopped on the bed, crossing her arms. “At least, not anyone I know of. And like, half the town is there. How am I supposed to check them all if I can’t step out of this damn hotel!”
Ben stumbled as his hands went through her shoulders. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized as she shot him a look. “Look, instead of stressing out, maybe you should wait for a bit. The local police are on it too, and they said they’ll be back with a case file.”
“I know, but they’re taking too long! What’s taking them so long?”
Ben tapped his chin. “Maybe it’s because of all the forensics? It could take months to get the reports. I’ve learned that in a CSI movie. And it’s been only a few days since they came, so-“
“Only a few days? Ugh, and I thought it had been weeks! How is Uncle Nathan able to stand this boring life?”
“He is dead,” Abaddon reminded her. “As are you.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
At last, an acknowledgement! “You are welcome.”
Esther put her face in her palms and groaned. That was unexpected. Maybe he should pat her? It was a body language he learned that could comfort a human in distress. To his surprise, it only irked her more.
Because Esther Freeling wasn’t a human. Not anymore.
+++
It didn’t take months for the police to arrive. Exactly 6 weeks, if his calculations were correct.
“They’re sooner than I expected,” Ben remarked as they opened the windows to peer down at the noisy car pulling in front of the hotel.
Abaddon disagreed. It had taken them longer than necessary. A day more, and the girl would have gone nuts from agony.
Unfortunately, she did have to wait a few more hours.
“You’re still young,” Katherine said, blocking the doorway to the meeting room where the officer was waiting inside. “The truth behind your death could be disturbing.”
Preposterous. Her daughter was easily the most knowledgeable when it came to ‘disturbing’ information. Hell, one of her favorite pastimes had been digging up graves, searching for body parts.
“I can handle it. I can’t have died a terrible death anyway,” Esther protested, waving down at her own body. “See? Not a scratch on myself!”
“No,” the mother repeated sternly. “And Nathan’s going to guard the door, so don’t think about passing through the walls, young lady.”
Esther’s mouth opened again, but Katherine wasn’t quite finished.
“The side rooms, the top and lower floors are all guarded as well.”
“Shoot.” In unison, the kids turned toward Nathan. He was easy to reason with, especially with their kitten eyes intact. By the grimace he was holding, they were succeeding in it, too.
Or not.
“Sorry, kids,” Nathan said as he gave them an apologetic smile, “I agree with Kathy here. I also wish I could go back and stop myself from learning how I died. Keeps your sanity more intact, you know?”
“But, but- I’m dying of curiosity!” Collapsing to the floor, Esther moaned, “This is child abuse!”
Shaking her head, Katherine knelt down to her eye level. “Tell you what. After this meeting, and after the officer is out of the house, I promise I will tell you about your death myself. I just don’t want you to get triggered by anything the police say unintentionally bad.”
“You could lie,” Esther mumbled.
“Ben’s going in with me. He’ll ensure I won’t be lying to you. Right, Ben?”
“Yeah, sis. I’ll make sure of it.” With a wink, he held his thumb up to Esther. Soon, the only ones standing in the halls were the non-human ones.
“How long do you think this is going to take?” Esther wondered out loud.
“Hmm… don’t know. Could be hours, could be a few seconds. It’d depend on how much information the cops have to share.”
“Right,” sighing, Esther turned around and started walking away from the door.
Startled, Nathan took a step back. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re not going to attempt sneaking in?”
“No.”
“Really? No tickle attacks? No punch in the gut?”
“No. Mom will tell me, she promised.” Dragging her feet, she let out another sigh. “I just hate that I need to wait another hour.”
“Huh,” Nathan breathed out after she was out of sight. “Thought she’d put up more fight than that.”
The head next to him lightly bobbed up and down in agreement.
“Do you think turning into a ghost actually made her more mature?”
This time, the response was a shrug. To be fair, the demon did not know what ‘maturity’ was.
“Hey, Abaddon, wanna do a Connect 4 rematch?”
“Follow her,” Nathan whispered before he could take any action. “Please? Kathy made me swear not to leave my position, said there’ll be no TV for a week if I don’t. But I don’t think it’ll be best for her to be alone by herself.”
“No? Okay, then, guess I will go back to my room to wallow in self-dread.”
Nathan’s face instantly hardened, and he threw another begging look.
“Fine,” Abaddon huffed and ran in the direction where Esther had headed off to.
As he had expected, she wasn’t walking to her room. Instead, she was leaning on one of the walls not far off, checking her fingernails and tapping her feet.
“Vents?” he asked, not slowing down even when he passed her.
“Oh, hell yes,” she snickered, tagging right behind him.
Mostly, the Freelings stayed far away from the vents. Not only were they wary of a marshmallow-loving tentacle that lurked within, but they were all a bit big to fit in and use it like a passageway as he could. But this time, Esther had no problem trailing behind him, mimicking his movements and carefully crawling over every scrape and crack.
“How do you think I died?” Esther wondered out loud. Abaddon jumped a little at the sudden sound, and he bumped his head in response. “Oops, sorry.”
He grunted to indicate that he had accepted her apology. Unlike her, the sounds he made echoed along the walls, so he lowered his voice down a notch before giving out his reasons. “You could have died from poison. A sharp, venomous stinger that gives you death in seconds.”
It also explained of her not having any marks of her death. A cut from those would be small to spot in the eyes of a human.
“Cool,” she whispered back. “But it’s hard to find a poison that deadly, so...”
“What are your assumptions?”
“A curse,” she immediately replied. “Of another witch, or anyone who wanted to take over this hotel for themselves. But Mom and Ben won’t be able to fend them off properly, so I’m kind of in the middle.”
Abaddon hummed in agreement. Though he thought his gate-keeping duties could use a bit more excitement, he was still traumatized by the whole cult incident. He could do with another few decades of boredom if it meant the Freelings were safe and out of harm.
“I just wish it’s not because of sickness,” Esther continued. “Well, I guess having a symptom so rare they’d name it after me wouldn’t be too bad-“ she cut herself off, as Abaddon had put his fingers to his lips, signaling their arrival. He scooted over so she could check for herself, of an officer sitting on a loveseat, while her mother and brother sat side by side on the bigger couch.
After a few exchanges in hand gestures, the two carefully shifted around the vent lid - him trying to reduce sounds and her to not let her hands or limbs pass through. Just in time, too, as the information Esther had been yearning for came through the vent hole.
“Mrs. Freeling, as you have asked, we’ve run a few tests to figure out how your daughter died,” a deep male voice was saying.
“Please not a disease, please, let it NOT be a disease,” Esther murmured. Abaddon didn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. She had no indication of sickness that day. She had been exceptionally cheerful, too, bouncing up and down the whole morning before going to school - a rare occurrence, come to think of it. Esther hated early wake-ups.
That peculiar weirdness pulled his thoughts toward the exact day, and Abaddon was forced to recall one of the most crowded days in the hotel.
To be fair, he didn’t recall any of it. It had been a normal day for him - standing guard at the hotel’s gates, digging for bones, and setting up traps for Mothman. Well, normal until the sun decided to switch places with the moon.
Sitting at the dining table, Abaddon twitched with anxiety. The family had a tendency to eat only after all the members had joined the table. But one seat was refusing to be filled, even after the spaghetti on his plate had lost its steam.
Another rare occurrence. Esther never missed family spaghetti nights.
That was also why no one believed Ben when he came running back from his sister’s room, all out of breath. Seeing her body sprawled on the floor wasn’t fully able to convince them, either. She looked more like in a restless sleep than an eternal one, with eyes sealed tight and deep lines creased on her forehead.
But her heart hadn’t been thumping. Not even a pulse.
He really regretted not being around. Nathan had later mentioned the girl had spent her final hours searching the house for him. Had he been there, he could have avenged her death on the spot. Had he been present, even as a witness, this pathetic investigation would have been shortened-
“Your daughter died from poison.”
“Poison?” the mother and son shouted in unison.
“Yes!” Esther punched her fist in the air. Instead of bumping heads and making a ruckus, she went straight through the vent ceiling. Lucky instance, as they could have gotten caught by the sound, but the girl didn't look too happy coming back to settle beside him.
“Stabby Paul saw me,” she pouted at his raised brows.
Well, Abaddon already knew for certain he wouldn’t be telling on them, so he turned from her to listen in on the conversation down below.
“Ever heard of ‘rubus dius’?” The Freelings down below shook their heads, but the one beside him let out a gasp. “Right, so this thing was in that empty bottle you handed us. The other one was a totally different substance.”
The man placed two pictures on top of the coffee table. One was an empty one, another was fully filled. Abaddon squinted for a better look. The bottles looked familiar in his eyes, but he couldn’t place where he had seen those precise round shapes.
“My potion bottles,” Esther breathed.
Ah, yes, that was it. She had a stack full of them back at her secret hideout, an old, deserted mine where she hid stuff from the matriarch.
“Your Esther had been a particular child, yes? Had interesting hobbies, such as witchcraft spells, and… potions.”
The room fell into silence as the implications settled in.
“You’re saying,” Katherine took a deep breath, “that Esther had made the poison herself?”
“It appears so.” The officer tapped one picture, the one filled with a corkscrew intact. “This one, though not a poison, was also not a regular drink. Our analysts confirmed it to be a mixture of herbs and fruits, which we know for a fact aren’t sold in local markets.”
“But- but, she couldn’t have,“ Ben choked on his words, gripping the couch tightly. “She was fine in the mornings, after coming home…”
“There are a lot of reasons one commits suicide, son. She may have seemed fine at home, but she could have been suffering elsewhere.” Rustling of paper was heard as the police pulled out several documents on display. “The school confirmed her low performance, despite being a bright student with potential. It was also confirmed she had a few friends.”
“We’ve been here just a few months. It takes time for them to adjust-“
“A few weeks, perhaps, but months aren’t short. And over a year? That’s not considered an indescribable amount of time. Mrs. Freeling.”
At this, Abaddon squashed the urge to snort. Such an ignorant way of acknowledging the passing of time. Even before he became trapped in this treacherous body, months were merely the starting points of changes.
“And considering how your brother died, her taking her own life is a fairly acceptable conclusion.”
“Excuse me?” Katherine’s voice rose an octave higher.
“The department knows of your brother taking his own life. She may have followed a similar path. Depression is said to be more genetic than environmental.” The officer sipped his coffee before speaking again. “Rose Freeling has passed away here as well, correct?”
“Yes, but she has lived a full life! She only came here because…” The response died down as quickly as it emerged. Probably because there was no way to explain the real reasoning behind her death without revealing the hotel’s secret. And no one, not even the ghosts wanted that, because while it could spark a rise in incomes, it also could cause an increase in free residents.
Actually, Abaddon wanted that. An endless supply of fresh bones literally walking in by themselves? Who would he be to turn down such delicious opportunities? However, he was outvoted. Cursed human rules and stupid democracy-whatever.
“Mhm, that makes her the third family to be dead in his hotel. Mrs. Freeling, there is a saying that three make a pattern. If I were you, I’d pack up and leave as soon as possible. Your business hadn’t been doing well anyway; everyone in Undervale knows this hotel is haunted. Best to stay far, far away from places that reek of death.”
“Sure.” Katherine gave a smile. It was the kind that she wore for guests that she wanted to kick out but couldn’t dismiss outright. “So, are we finished? I mean, we don’t want to hold you for long. You have to have important matters to attend to, right?”
She was trying to wrap up the meeting. “Esther,” Abaddon hissed, “We need to go back.”
To his dismay, the girl wasn’t even blinking; gaze fixed on the coffee table. He tried to grab her arms instead, but his hands only grasped empty air. Waving his hands over her eyes didn’t work either.
The officer stood up, extending his hand to shake. “I hope I wasn’t intruding much. I was talking out for your benefit, you know.”
“Of course, officer.”
With a frustrated growl, Abaddon shoved his hand straight through her head, where her brains should lie, and waved it back and forth. The feelings were still empty, but it had her attention.
“Huh? Oh, shit.” Again, her head went through the ceiling, but this time, she didn’t have the time to cringe while returning to her previous position. “What’s the fastest route out?” she asked, already ahead and trying to crawl backwards.
“Up,” he answered, pointing at the floor above.
“Up? But-“
“The ghosts will remain silent. Their television privileges depend on it.” She frowned, but nodded as he recalled the hotel’s structure. “From there, two rooms left, out towards the hallway, right turn, three more left again. You’ll be in your room. GO!” he hissed as they both heard the door opening below.
Without checking if she had followed his instructions, Abaddon started the shortest route he knew to her room. The vents there were the narrowest, and creaking noises echoed under his weight. However, he pushed through with vulgar, not stopping till he heard low, frantic murmurings of the girl's panic.
As soon as the demon popped out, Esther pointed at the chest at the foot of her bed and cried, “Quick, Mom will be here any second!”
Putting all his weight, he pushed it over, causing toys scatter all across the floor. Katherine would confiscate his right to Froot Loops and make him pick them up afterward, but those were not of his importance right now.
Having a keen eye, Esther was the one to find the game first. Grabbing the box, he kicked aside the dolls to make space and set the game. In tense silence, he slid the coins in place, but they kept slipping through his fingers, bouncing uselessly on the carpet. Useless designers for making the holes as narrow slits.
“You can be the red. I’ll be the yellow.”
“Does it matter?” he snapped. According to the humans, he had achromatopsia, a trait he never knew of until they discovered the real reasoning behind his losing streak. Esther had made it a fair game by drawing circles and crosses on the coins, but he couldn’t remember which was which right now. Besides, he wasn’t even looking at the pieces he was shoving in. There was no way to tell which side was winning.
He had picked up the seventh coin when there was a knock on her door.
“Come in,” Esther called out.
The door opened, and Katherine walked in. She wasn’t the only one there. Ben, Nathan, and even some of the dead were crowded in front of the doorway, all looking down solemnly at the newest ghost.
Katherine was the first to move. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her fist clenched tight, but after taking a deep breath, she weaved around the messy room and crouched down in front of her daughter, opening her arms. Without a second’s hesitation, Esther jumped forward and wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck. They stayed like that for a brief moment, basking in the embrace.
Abaddon did not understand the whole sentiment. Sure, he knew humans hugged to share emotions, but these two couldn’t be feeling anything through their gestures. However, he understood this was not the time to point those out, and Katherine’s shoulders were clearly becoming more relaxed in the awkward position, so he watched the whole thing with the rest of the crowd, quietly waiting for it to end and get to the important part.
“So… what did they say?” The question was asked in a cheery voice, but everyone heard the crack in her voice.
“Poison,” Katherine replied in short words, “By a berry juice.”
“Poison? Me?”
“Yes. There’s a strong possibility they were potions… Potions, brewed by you.”
“Oh,” was her only reply. A tear broke free. Then another. And another.
Esther tried to muffle them by burying her face in her mother’s chest. No use. The sounds were still prominent, hollowly spreading throughout the whole building.
“I, I,” she sniffed, “I would have never, o-offed myself.”
“We know, sweetheart, we know.” The soft cooing continued until Esther’s sobs turned into small whimpers. Then her voice hardened. “You loved life. You couldn’t have drunk that poison knowingly.”
“But Uncle Nathan-“
“There are certain behaviors before people commit suicide. In Nathan’s case, we were living separately. We hadn’t had much contact for a long time. It was hard for us to notice until it was too late. You are different. We are all living together. We would have noticed it before it got worse. And,” she parted away to give her daughter a look. “We all know you’re a terrible actor.”
“I’m sorry for overhearing.”
Katherine sighed. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have known how to tell you, honestly.” She gestured behind her, and Ben stepped forward, holding out a big envelope. Taking it from his hands, she set it on the bed. “Here, these are your case files. The police agreed to give us a copy since the case is closed. You’ll understand this better than the rest of us, so we’ll leave it here with you. Whenever you’re ready, call us. We’ll help you have a look through it together.”
Petting her daughter’s head, which was more like skimming air at that point, Katherine turned and exited the room, ushering the onlookers to move on as well.
“Mom?” Esther spoke out before the door could fully close.
Being called, the woman turned around, shooting a quizzical look toward her daughter.
Shuffling her feet, Esther quietly murmured, “Thank you.”
Katherine’s face instantly softened. “You’re welcome,” she whispered back, matching her volume.
After that, the door closed, leaving only one pair of eyes to blink in the darkness of the room.
“Oh, and Abaddon? Clean that mess up before you leave!”
+++
“Rubus-dius, rubus-dius,” Esther muttered as she passed through a tree stump. “I don’t recall any recipes using that berry. The book I have is beginner's stuff, too. No deadly poisons. It even has separate sections for antidotes!”
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten?” Abaddon questioned, holding the case file close to his chest. He was given the job to guard it while they journeyed to the old mine.
She hummed in thought. “It is a possibility... Uncle Nathan also couldn’t recall his death.” Another frustrated moan seeped out from her lips. “But me, poisoned myself? No way!”
Abaddon trudged behind her, letting her blabber to her content. He wished he could also remember the day of her death. But a trillion years of existence had dulled his grasp on the mundane; episodic mortal life was hard to retain. To him, that final day had been just another dull, unremarkable stretch of time - up until dinner, at least.
He shook it off. He had seen plenty of corpses, more disturbing than hers. It shouldn’t be dwelling in his mind.
Right after they got to the old mine, the pair got to work, piling all the books there were related to potions and thoroughly poring over them one by one. By the time Esther stopped themselves, Abaddon’s head was spinning from all the letters he couldn’t even decipher, and his wrist was numb from all the flipping she asked him to do.
“See? Nothing! Nada, zilch, nothing!” Esther laughed maniacally. “I told you I wasn’t using it, I would never have used it!”
Abaddon rubbed his arms. “Is there truly no possibility you mistook another ingredient?”
“No. Why do you keep saying that?”
The memories of her failed spells flashed through his brain.
He decided to keep his mouth shut.
“I don’t make mistakes,” Esther again shouted. “Potions, they are a delicate thing. Even a single gram could make a different effect. I check at least three times before adding one ingredient into the mix.”
“Really.”
“Really! And ‘rubus-dius’? That’s too traceable. The police sniffed it out. Dark magic isn’t supposed to be sniffed out. It’s supposed to create unexplained death.”
Esther reached towards the book, waving her arms over it repeatedly. Grumbling, he pushed up his limply fallen arms and turned the pages until she held up her hand to stop him.
“Okay, so, Rubus-dius.” Esther traced the lines as she read aloud to him. “Poisonous berry, easy to detect, rarely in potions.”
Abaddon looked down at the picture of the berry. No matter how hard he looked, they just looked like regular old blackberries. In fact, they were identical to the ones that grew in the forest.
“Can get confused with ‘rubus-occidentalis’, ingredient for ‘Rubus Rapture’.”
“Aha!” he cried, pointing at the book in triumph.
Esther groaned, “Just listen, will you? Here, - a weird blue tinge in the middle. Confusing this, they’re dumber than a bag of rocks.”
That justified giving her another look.
“I didn’t use it!” she threw her hands up. “It’s really expensive, needs to be shipped from halfway around the continent. And my allowance barely covers the protection charms I have stacked up in preparation for future enemies.”
All these repeats were getting tiresome, even for his demonic self. Sure, he enjoyed self-destruction, but only the bloody kinds. Mental anguish was never his cup of tea. Reaching behind his back, he pulled out the case file he had been holding onto.
“I believe it is time we have a look at this,” he told her, shaking the envelope to emphasize.
Still keeping her scowl, Esther scooted over to see him laying out the contents one by one. To their surprise, the case file had more than the police had shown at the meeting.
“Blood analysis, the potion analysis, school records… phone activity record? They even went through my messages? Ugh, doesn’t anyone have respect for privacy?”
There were also several pictures, most of them of her room, but there were close-up objects, like the bottles and her school bag. But what caught his eye wasn’t all of the above.
Picking up a paper, he showed it to her. “Is this not a page from the book?”
Esther nodded. “Yeah, and I think it’s taken by a phone, too.” Watching him move over to the potions book, she called out. “It’s page 62!”
Abaddon ignored the number, opting to just flip until he reached a similar-looking page. Every recipe in that book was paired with a handful of drawings. Which meant Abaddon could also do some interpretation on his own.
Cautiously peering at the step-by-step guide, his eyes zeroed in on the last one in the bottom right corner. A weird heart-shaped bottle with a screw top. A shape, that he had seen on earlier pages.
“Esther? Which of these books contained information about the berries?"
She must not have heard him, as her next response was totally out of context. “Could you bring me the other analysis page? The one in the back?”
There was a distance in her voice that made him pause, but he did as she asked.
“Thanks, Abaddon. Now, the book, 160.”
For a while, Esther stood frozen, only her eyes darting back and forth between the two pages. Then she put her face in her hands and dropped to her knees, spewing short, ragged gasps from her throat.
“Esther?” he called out uncertainly. It was the first time he had seen her break down like that, and the sight of it made him forget, just for a moment, that her lungs no longer existed, and breathing was something she no longer required.
“I, I.” She hiccuped, gripping his arms. “Hotel, back to hotel.”
The forest had always been a dangerous place. Excluding the normal wild animals like bears or deer, creatures of the unknown loomed in the shadows. Therefore, it was always full of cries and wails, echoing from tree to tree. However, that night, the woods were eerily quiet, their journey never getting disrupted. Not even the birds chirping could be heard. Not even the crickets.
Usually, he was up for these restraints. He could set more traps without interference. It was also easier to detect critters roaming close by. But for once, the demon desperately wished it to be the other way around. The silence from beside him was deafening.
At last, she finally spoke.
“I think I know why Uncle Nathan wanted to go back on knowing his death.”
Abaddon scrunched up his face. It was a strange mix: the depression and the girl. But he could understand. He also felt a little drained by the truth.
If the killer had been someone else, they would have been able to fixate on them, chase them to the end of the earth until they faced their rightful doom. If the killer was already terminated in different terms? Then, at the very least, they could have had a good laugh, saying it was a well-deserved punishment.
But if the killer turned out to be none other than themselves, how was one supposed to avenge?
He once again glanced at the girl walking beside him. She had her eyes focused on the front, on the road ahead. It was a fair act. Her 'wake-up time' was nearing by the second, and Katherine, as diligent as she was, always did rounds on her children.
But even if Esther was in a hurry, she would have been ducking for branches and jumping over fallen logs. She never forgot to do it, not even months after her death.
Losing her body had never killed off Esther Freeling fully. That was just a mere vessel. Her core was always her soul. Strong and bright, like a morning star.
Or, that was what he had thought.
An idea that had been sitting at the back of his mind sparked again. Abaddon let out a long, heaving sigh. Oh, he was so going to detest this choice.
“I will revive you.”
“Huh?” He didn’t have to see her face to know she had confusion written all over.
“Remember the relic we found?” He explained. “The one we could send things back in time?”
“Yes. How could I? You killed an entire bus of potential customers. Mom was really annoyed, too. But…” Esther's brows furrowed as she glanced in his direction. “Didn’t you say it was broken?”
“It is not. I’ve merely entrusted it to the lake.” It was way better protected that way. Out of humans’ reach, less exposed to breaking or getting lost.
Esther's lips formed into a small circle, then into a tight line. Abaddon recognized it as her thinking face, one she made to conjure up brilliant schemes.
Even while lacking the ability to read minds, Abaddon usually knew what her brain was working with. The answer this time was simple, too. Esther knew his loops. He had told all the Freelings, countless times, actually. The family needed to know what he had to sacrifice to keep them from disappearing. Not that they had taken him seriously. Not except for one.
At last, the girl turned towards him, gaze sharp and flickering.
“Don’t. It’s pointless anyway.”
Pointless? “You dare underestimate Abaddon? The high prince of the Black Realm, cursed descendant of-“
Esther pushed her hands into his mouth, stopping his monologue. “No, no, not you. Me. I really don’t believe I’ve died from my own mistake.” Then she looked down at her feet. “You couldn’t save Uncle Nathan either. Why would this be any different?”
Feeling the need to say the next words carefully, Abaddon cleared his throat.
“His death was a depression from his inner soul. Infiltration is not a gatekeeper’s domain; I was never meant to guard against what rots from within. Drinking poison, however, is a simple external attack. I would be stripped from my station had I not been able to deal with them.”
Her lips quivered. “You’ve said it was a dragging experience, though. Living through the same moment every time-“
“Once more wouldn’t hurt,” he cut in dryly. Truly, the next years with her in this state were going to be much more boring.
The sun was now high in the sky, clearing away all the darkness and stirring up the forest from its slumber. He wished the sun had risen a little later, though. Then he could have been sure that this light shining through her transparent eyes was hers alone.
“…why are you staring at me like that?”
"I was not staring!" He averted his eyes towards her hands. "I was merely waiting."
"For what?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.
Abaddon got flabbergasted. Had she forgotten? But it was their ritual. She had always been the one to speak it first. Hell, she had always been the one to initiate it.
Then again, they hadn't done it in recent days.
So, to prompt her memory, he held out his second finger and pinky up in the air, wriggling them for emphasis.
Esther laughed. It was a shaky, scratchy snort, closer to something a bear would make than a puny human girl. Still more musical than her grouch, though.
“Shemon,” she finally said, the ends of her lips curling up in a signature smirk.
“Demon,” he replied, lining his own hand to hers.
They didn’t touch. He felt nothing. But she must have done something. There was no other way to explain why his fingers tingled while they recited their final line together.