CH.10 The Curtain Monster

The curtain monster hit the top step, knife raised high, blade gleaming under the light as it charged.

Calvin had no escape—he threw up his hands to block. The knife came straight at his palms, but a burst of white flame shot from his fingers, slamming the blade away with force.

“What?!” Calvin’s eyes widened, staring at his hands. The white flame was soft and warm, not burning him. He felt a weird connection, like he could control it with his thoughts.

The man beside him froze, jaw dropped at the teen. “You… you’ve got fire on your hands?!”

Is this from that magic card? Calvin thought, but the fight’s urgency left no time to wonder.

The curtain monster didn’t stop, stabbing again. Calvin instinctively grabbed, the white flame surging out and burning a huge hole in the curtains, charred fabric fluttering down.

The knife came down once more—Calvin focused, the flame expanding to block it.

So tired… too much fire? Calvin felt drained, like his energy was sucked out. The monster, riddled with holes, kept coming. He glanced at the red high heels—the blue mist was still swirling around them.

I gotta hit the shoes! Calvin gritted his teeth, pointing his fingers. A small fireball shot out, nailing the heels.

The curtain monster shuddered, its form twisting, fabric unraveling like it lost its anchor.

Calvin lunged forward, grabbing the red high heels tight.

A word flashed in his mind, and he shouted: “Purify!”

White flame exploded from his hands, engulfing the eerie heels. The fire consumed them like paper, reducing the ghost to a pile of smoldering ash in seconds, just charred scraps on the floor.

“Did that work?” Calvin stared at his hands, too shocked to blink. The flame was gone, but a warm tingle lingered in his palms.

“You’re badass!” The man gawked, voice shaking. “That was… magic?”

“Uh, kinda?” Calvin mumbled, his head a mess.

“You really got rid of that ghost thing?” The man leaned in, eyeing the burned curtains with awe.

“Looks like it,” Calvin said, peering at the ashes where the ghost energy had vanished.

“Thank God! You saved me!” The man bounced with excitement, mixed with relief. “First time I’ve seen magic! And ghosts!”

“If that’s it, I’m out,” Calvin said. He wanted to get home and test his new powers… er, practice.

“Wait a sec!” The man fumbled for his wallet, pulling out a stack of cash—looked like two grand. “This is all I have on me. I’ll get more from the bank.”

“What’s this for…”

“This is for you—the exorcism fee’s separate.”

“Thanks, this is plenty,” Calvin took the money, feeling like it was all a dream.

After, Calvin hopped on the bus home.

“Hmm, he made bank off that,” Jane grumbled, jealous. The ghost was summoned by Tommy under her controlled “cartoon guy’s” orders—meant to scare, not harm—but she’d amped it up today.

She’d felt a bit guilty paying Calvin (a minor) just three hundred of the seven hundred, but seeing the two grand made her envious. She was barely scraping rent for her crappy basement.

Making money this way wasn’t ideal—just enough for rent and living. Time to stir up more events… though the cops might notice soon.

With a thought, her avatar quietly collected the fee from the homeowner—a thousand bucks. She left seven hundred, slipping the rest into Calvin’s nightstand.

When Calvin hopped off the bus and headed home, the night was deep, streets empty, with only dim streetlights casting glows. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar figure under a lamp—the mysterious man in the black robe.

“Hey, I nailed your task,” Calvin said, stepping up quickly.

The robed man turned, his face hidden in the hood’s shadow, voice low. “Good. Reward’s coming later.”

“So… anything else to say?” Calvin probed, lifting his hand. A ball of white flame flickered in his palm, lighting up his face. “Like, this?”

“Hmph,” the robed man scoffed, voice dripping disdain. “That’s just a bonus from the mission. You think I’d clap and celebrate you hitting the pathetic Black Iron level?”

“Black Iron level?”

“Powers vary, systems differ, but strength levels are clear as day,” the robed man said, tone heavy with authority. “From lowest Black Iron, to Bronze, Silver, Gold, Mystic Platinum, up to god-like Star Radiance—seven tiers total. You? Just a newbie Black Iron, too weak to even protect yourself.”

“So… what level are you?”

“Me? You wouldn’t get it,” the man laughed coldly. “But I’ll tell you my name. Zeke.”

“And don’t let anyone find out about your powers—you’re too weak. Getting spotted won’t end well.” With that, Zeke vanished.

“Black Iron, Bronze, Star Radiance… so many levels?” Calvin muttered, eyes sparkling with excitement. Starting at the bottom? Whatever—this mysterious world was just opening up to him!

Still, Calvin was wary. What was Zeke’s real goal in training him? Were there other groups out there? With all these levels, there had to be strong folks somewhere. Why hadn’t they shown up in human society before? Where were they now?

Calvin decided to play it safe… tonight, he’d lock the door and mess around with this white flame in secret… no, practice.

On the other side, Jane’s controlled Zeke took the cash from the homeowner—a thousand bucks. She left seven hundred, stashing the rest in Calvin’s nightstand.

In the downtown police station break room, dim lights cast shadows on desks piled with files. Officer Ryan leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen, frowning at Officer Gail across from him.

“You notice things getting weird lately? So many calls about ghosts,” Ryan said.

Gail looked up. “Weird? Come on, probably pranks. If there are ghosts, that’s FBI territory. Not like we’re grabbing pistols to bust spirits.”

“So you think there might be ghosts?”

“Nah, I bet it’s a chemical plant leak making people hallucinate.”

“Holy crap, that’s scarier than ghosts. My family lives here.”

“Okay, maybe ghosts. Then we yell ‘Drop your ghost claws’ and slap on silver handcuffs.”

“You think disinfectant would help if it’s a leak?”

“Are you serious? Disinfectant kills germs and viruses,” Gail said. “But no one’s in the hospital from poisoning, just reporting spooky stuff. It’s odd…”

“Ghosts, man. I never believed in them, and why just here?”

“You’re asking me? Google it or something?”

“Hey, what are you guys chatting about?” A female officer walked in, waving.

“Hey, Saira!” Ryan turned. “We’re talking about the weird calls lately. Tons of people claiming they saw ghosts.”

“Yeah, it’s bizarre,” Saira pulled up a chair, flipping open her notebook. “We respond, find nothing. Callers swear it’s paranormal, so we tell ‘em to relax, get rest, so we file the report upstairs.”

“Ugh, too many headaches. The handbook doesn’t cover demon-busting.”

“The handbook doesn’t teach ghost busting,” Gail muttered, rubbing his forehead. “Let the higher-ups deal with it.”

“Enough of that,” Saira stood, clapping her hands. “I’m grabbing coffee. You guys want some?”

“One for me, thanks!” Ryan raised his hand.

“I’m good, thanks,” Gail waved her off.

After Saira left, Gail stared out the window. Night had fallen, streetlights flickering in the fog, like they were hiding secrets.

He zoned out for a moment, shook his head, and went back to flipping through the case files on his desk.