I woke up the next morning feeling oddly satisfied, as the sunlight streamed through gaps in my cheap blinds. I needed to spring for some curtains. I rolled to my side facing the clock on the nightstand. 8:52AM, I'd slept for almost a full eight hours. For a moment, I just lay there, basking in the unfamiliar feeling of being well-rested. No nightmares, no restless tossing and turning, no whispered temptations in the dark. Just blessed, uninterrupted sleep.
The silence in my head was almost disconcerting. No snarky comments, no insidious suggestions. Just... peace. I knew it wouldn't last, it never did, but for now, I'd enjoy the reprieve.
I shuffled into the kitchen, the cold linoleum slapping against my bare feet. Time for the morning ritual: biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and a tall cup of coffee. Some might call it boring; for me, there was comfort in the routine. In my line of work, you took your stability where you could get it.
My movements were fluid and automatic, honed by years of repetition, as the air filled with the aroma of sausage gravy. Now, sitting at my small kitchen table, I watched the steam rise from the plate and allowed myself this brief moment of normalcy. Just a guy enjoying his breakfast--nothing supernatural or demonic about it.
I was halfway through my eggs when my phone rang, shattering the illusion. Unknown number. I hesitated, fork hovering midair my eyes cutting to the screen on my phone. In my experience, unknown numbers rarely brought good news. But then again, they also paid the bills.
With a sigh, I picked up. "Victor speaking."
"Ay, gracias a Dios," a woman's voice came through, trembling slightly. "Are you the Victor who... deals with unusual problems?"
I chuckled, it couldn't be prevented. "Unusual problems? Sure let's call it that. So, on a scale of 'my toaster is possessed' to 'I've accidentally summoned Cthulhu in my bathtub', how unusual are we talking here?"
"My name is Sophia," she said, her voice taking on a bit more strength. "And I think I'm being followed by something. not human."
I closed my eyes, pressing the heel of my palm to my forehead. Great, just great. "What makes you say that?"
"Está siempre allí, just out of sight," Sophia hurried on, the words spilling out as if she had been holding them back too long. "Shadows move when they shouldn't, I hear whispers when I'm alone. I've tried going to the police, but they think I'm loca. Maybe I am, but." She broke off, taking a shaking breath. "But I don't think so. Something is after me, Señor Victor. And I don't know what to do."
I leaned back in my chair, mind racing. Could be nothing, plenty of people convinced themselves they were being haunted when it was just old pipes and an overactive imagination. But something in her voice, the edge of genuine fear, made me think otherwise.
"Alright, Sophia," I said, pushing away from the table. "I'm going to give you an address. Can you meet me there in 20 minutes?"
"Si, si," she exclaimed grateful that someone was taking her serious. She was going to be a lot less grateful when she found out my fee.
"I'm not saying I'm going to take your case, but I will at least listen and try to figure out what's going on." She wasn't listening anymore. I could already hear here shuffling around her house and grabbing her keys.
"Gracias, Victor. Gracias!" She hung up before I could get another word in. Guess I won't be spending the day catching up on Sex in the City.
****
I let out a sigh and hung up the phone before heading into my closet. Something told me showing up in some rumpled t-shirt and dinosaur boxers wasn't going to exactly shout confidence. Instead, I pulled out a crisp white t-shirt and layered it with a brown sweater. Then, pulling on a pair of jeans and running a comb through my hair, I headed for the car.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into my office in my beat-up Honda Civic. The 'check engine' light was blinking ominously-one problem at a time, I thought to myself. Sophia's car was already out front, a shiny new SUV that looked comically out of place next to the dilapidated building that was my workplace. I spotted her pacing nervously by the door, glancing at her watch.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," I called out, already fumbling with my keys as I approached. "Traffic was murder. Well, not literal murder. That's more of a Friday thing around here," I said with a smile. I don't think she got the joke.
I pushed open the creaky front door; the sign above it, reading 'Victor's Investigation of the Paranormal', the gold from the VIP letters were peeling off, classy.
"Bienvenida to my humble abode," I said, waving around. "Don't mind the mess. Or the smell. That's just sage and... well, let's call it ambient mystique."
Look at you, Mr. Bilingual, I thought to myself. That one semester of Spanish is really paying off.
Sophia stepped inside, her eyes skittering around the cramped space, taking in the eclectic decor. The room was barely larger than a huge closet, with walls lined from floor to ceiling with shelves filled with books. Ancient tomes on demonology stood shoulder to shoulder with modern paranormal research journals. A glass case in the corner housed an assortment of religious artifacts--crosses and holy water vials; a few things I'd rather not explain to the uninitiated.
My desk, an oak monstrosity I had retrieved from an estate sale, dominated the space. Its surface was littered with open books, scribbled notes, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Hey, sometimes exorcisms require liquid courage.
I settled back into my chair. "So, Sophia, tell me about this shadow that's been following you. When did you first notice it?"
Sophia perched on the edge of a worn leather armchair. "It started about two nights ago, during my dance class."
I raised an eyebrow. "Dance class? What kind of dance are we talking about here? Salsa? Tango? Interpretive rain dance?"
She blushed, avoiding my eyes. "It's... pole dancing. But only for the workout!" she added quickly.
Suddenly, a stirring deep inside, a familiar burning bloomed in my chest. The incubus, silent all morning, was suddenly very much awake and interested.
"Well, well," it purred. "Things just got a lot more interesting, didn't they?"
I shoved the demon's voice into the back of my head, focusing on Sophia. "No judgment here. I've seen things that would make Lovecraft wet his pants. So, what went down with this. workout?"
Sophia took a deep breath. "At first, I thought I was imagining things. But then I started noticing shadows moving but like, only the shadows not the objects themself. Even when there was nothing to cast them, I still saw shadows. And the whispers."
"Whispers?" I leaned forward. "What kind of whispers?"
She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as if suddenly cold. "I can never make out what they're saying. It's like... hissing, almost. And it's always when I'm alone."
