His oppression

What Is He?

Chapter Six: WHAT IS HE?

After consoling the concerned priest about my well-being at the moment when he caught me talking to thin air, I got out of their care and drove away with Mr. Old Guy in my passenger seat. First thing’s first, don’t get me wrong, I’m still terrified as hell but when you’re just a really curious- nosey- person and want to know what’s actually happening especially something you can’t explain with the art of reasoning, you’ll have to grab every opportunity that you can get in order to cleanse that thirst for knowledge.

Change of plans though, I was getting rather hungry. The girl has got to eat when the girl has got to eat. I pulled over to a drive thru and ordered what my heart’s desired before looking back at the person with me. “What would you like?-- oh wait, do you even eat?”

He gave me a rather confused look before his eyebrows furrowed- his gaze turning into a glare so that implied the answer.

How could a ghost eat anyway?

Wait.

Is he even a ghost? Or is he still alive? What kind of entity was he? Probably an alien.

“You have a big appetite for a small woman,” he remarked, slightly grimacing, probably, at my chosen set of food.

“I’m not small! You’re just a man and we’re built differently!” this is how I often defend myself when being called small and short.

“Did I say it’s a bad thing?”

“Your face said otherwise!”

“How?”

“Like this!” I grimaced, just as I had witnessed from his features not a minute ago, but this time it was a little exaggerated so I could prove my point across. I don’t like getting defeated in arguments.

His expression remained unfazed as his emerald green eyes were staring right at me.

It definitely gave me the heebie jeebies, I’m not even going to try and convince myself that I’m not terrified. From what I felt the first time I’ve laid eyes on him, and I mean with his doll form, that’s still the very same feeling that courses through my veins when I see him now. But do you know what’s scarier?

The fact that the toy is in the backseat, sitting there with the same posture as he has right now.

Once I’ve collected the food that I’ve ordered, I thought it was better to discuss this matter out in the open in case something might happen to me. This man is a stranger with an unknown background. The only thing that can ground his existence was the creepy doll with features identical to his. And if I let him inside my apartment, who knows what he can do? And the fact that I’ve exhibited that I was intimidated by him can make him use that advantage against me.

Because I’m pretty certain something’s going to happen and I’m not taking any chances of getting murdered, oh no sir. Though I don’t have a concrete plan for my future, I do have at the very bottom of my list to die of natural causes at at least 80 years old. And I’m not even halfway there!

I stopped at the parking lot where there were a few parked cars but were enough to, at the minimum, assure myself for my own safety.

“Okay, Mr. Vintage, what is it that you want from me?” I confronted, opening the packet of fries as I shoved them into my mouth.

His reaction seemed disgusted by how I ate but I really couldn’t blame him. I, wholeheartedly, admit that I am not so decent when I eat. Should I give a care about what other people say about me?

“The name is Radcliff Abram.” he started, his voice posh, as if he didn’t look enough already. “I’m cursed.”

“You don’t say?” I asked sarcastically, sniffing the burger as soon as I unwrapped it before taking a huge bite into it. “Just drop the act, where are the cameras? Am I getting paid for this prank, at least? I’ll try to act like I’m really getting pranked.”

“Pranked? What is a prank?”

He genuinely appeared like he was baffled by the word. Like he had not heard it in his lifetime before and that worried me a bit.

Or maybe, he’s just a really good of an actor who is just too convincing to even notice he’s faking his reactions? The most probable reasoning could be that. I’m not even going to the latter part where I think that he’s telling the truth. I could file some kind of restraining order against him for the harassment he had put me through even though money is tight on my side.

“Ha yeah, I know the word ‘prank’ has been around since the early 16th century and looking at your attire or whatever, you’re probably from that era, aren’t you?” I asked, sarcasm spitting out from my tone of voice.

“Oh prank! What could be your basis for that?”

He just really looked like he didn't know what I was talking about and it was kind of pissing me off.

“Nevermind, just tell me what’s going on.”

“What year is it?”

“2021, why?”

I kind of already knew where he was going with this but I just decided to let him speak.

“It’s been a really long time since I last spoke to a person. I was born the year 1527--”

“Wait!”

“--what is it?”

“You really expect me to believe that you’re from the 1500’s? Cause I’m telling you right now, I don’t believe you one bit.” I scoffed, dipping my fry in the catsup.

“Can you let me end my story respectably, please.”

“Okay,” I raised my hands in the air in surrender. “Go on, continue on with your ‘story’.”

“Thank you,” he glared at me before clearing his throat. “I’m 27 years old, at least that’s what I remembered being before I got stuck in that doll.”

“And?” I rose a curious brow at him. “What did you do? How did you get into that situation? You might have pissed off a witch or something!”

There goes the sarcastic ring in my voice once more.

“I might have, I might have not.” he replied. “I met a witch. We were what you’d call friends. I don’t think she knew what boundaries were and ought to believe that I harbour some kind of romantic feelings towards her when I made it very clear that I did not.”

“So she got angry at you for not returning her feelings?”

His eyebrows furrowed a little. “If you could put it that way, I guess so. She caught me with my darling lover. I do know very well the consequences of hurting or causing pain to witch. I do not resent her for the actions she had done, I just wish to be free from this curse.”

Nodding my head trying to understand what he was going on about, I looked at him with a judgemental stare. I observed his mannerism or anything I could pinpoint to him lying but all I could see was sincerity in his eyes.

“Okay, well, what do you want me to do?” I questioned, my eyebrows knitted together. “I still think I’m the wrong person you’ve approached for this job. I mean if I was getting paid, sure I’ll give it a second thought.”

“No, I am certain that you’re the one I’ve been looking for. Like I’ve said before, you’re the only one that can see me.”

“Wait, okay, so you’re telling me that you’re alive right now?” I asked in disbelief before slapping his arm. “I can touch you!”

“You can touch me! No one has ever been able to do that before!” he said with the same enthusiasm as I did when I had hit him.

That had already thrown me off-guard. He was a different man a minute ago then the next his eyes were glimmering of hope. That was a weird thing to witness right in front of your eyes but nevertheless I maintain my composure.

“Sure,” I responded, deciding to keep my guard up when it came to him. “So how am I going to help you break this curse or whatever?”

“Different times, different measures. I might need to do some digging first before we venture out to grab the essentials.”

 "We can use the internet to find some ritual or some s**t that might lift that curse." I suggested, pulling out my weathered phone. "People nowadays are more open with that kind of stuff so we're not limited with options."

6 years and it still works. Who said you need to buy another one when a brand new model comes out? If the crap phone works, it works.

They're literally buying the brand name. It doesn't matter if it's bad or okay to work with, what matters to most people right now is the status they gain. It's just petty if you ask me.

"The internet?"

Oh right, I've nearly forgotten Mr. 16th century is here with me right now. My internal monologue has been getting better and better though, I hope. The only one I could really talk to is myself so this often happens when I'm in the middle of a conversation with a breathing human being.

"Yes. I think it's in the 1980's or 90's that the internet was discovered— let me just show you. I don't want to be lecturing you about history right now." I grumbled before making him look at my phone screen which had a c***k on the top left corner which bothered me at first but had gotten used to it. "So, whatever you want to search you can type it in the search bar. In this instance: how do you lift a curse?"

There goes my phone bill. 

"What a compelling piece of a tool. You do not have to engross yourself in books and go through to them to find what you're trying to look for?"

I only nodded my head to his inquiry. Results loaded up in a matter of seconds and there were a massive count of articles about witchcraft and dark magic. I was never into this kind of fascination but I couldn't help but to be a little interested in it.

"Okay, here." I opened a link to a website which has a forum where people were discussing jinxes, spells, hexes, curses and some other useless s**t that I don't need to know in my life. "They have rituals. We can try the salt bath. It seems like it works."

"With salt water, ordinary salt water?" he asked, his nose crunching. "Is there any sort of shop where we can look at our choices?"

"Hm, there are many witch related shops here. Some are scam and I don't have the liberty to be spending all the cash I have just to help you even though I so badly want this to end too." I sighed deeply.

"Oh." he looked at his ring, taking it off from his slender finger. "How much can we bargain for this?"

"That looks expensive as fuck." I took the jewelry and had a good look at it. I knew right away where an object is worth the money. "Wait! Can they see this??"

"I think they can, yes."

"But they can't see you, how can they see this?" I asked, doubting him as my eyes narrowed at him.

"We can just give it a try. I can steal money!"

"No! No! If you're going to steal money, I'm not going to help you anymore." I told him. "We can do this the legal way or we don't. I can't afford jail right now."

His shoulders slumped down before looking at the doll. "We can't let anything happen to that doll. My soul is trapped there."

"That's my problem?" I asked.

"No. And I apologise for bringing forth a dilemma in your way. I'm just really desperate after so many years of not being able to find someone who can help me."

"Sure," I responded sarcastically. Sighing once more, I just looked at him. "I'm not really one to help people."

He nodded his head before looking at me. "Thank you. I never got your name."

"Oh.. Aria."

"Aria, what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

I choked on my drink as I listened to his mouth lie. I could guess this man was a woman killer before in his era and in this lifetime. 

"Shut up. I still don't believe you. I'm only doing this because I want you to stop."

"When we lift the curse, I will be out of your hair for good."

There was just no way I was going to believe him.