The Diablo Ouija

  ~*~

  Following the light which always kept one turn ahead of him was getting old for Remy, but there was something compelling about the green glow that he could not fathom, but which kept him following. He'd followed his guide down countless rows of industrial shelving in a pattern that rivalled the maze back at Blackwood and his patience was finally reaching breaking point.

  "Felix Alinson!" he called for a last time, having had no response the first dozen times he'd called out.

  However, as he turned the final corner, his world opened out. No more shelves, no more long-deserted warehouse items and he walked into the green glow he had been following lighting up an open space. It had to be magic, but a quick squint showed Remy nothing about its origin and quickly his attention was drawn by something hanging from a girder. The light was still dim, so Remy approached cautiously to make out what it was, and when the grey-green shadows revealed their contents, he came to a smart halt about 5 foot from his centre of interest. The rope which he had thought held something dangling from its end was in fact only rope and the bulk at the bottom was a noose. The rope was swinging slightly and the hairs on Remy's neck stood up as he realised there was no air movement causing it.

  "Felix?" Remy asked the empty space, not liking the feeling that was creeping up his spine.

  The rope stopped. Remy took a rapid step backwards.

  "No way," he denied. "Felix, what magic are you messing with?"

  The rope started to swing again. That was too much and Remy turned on his heel. However, as he did so, the green glow pulsed and then he heard a fluttering of paper. Remy could not stifle an involuntary shudder as slowly, like it was being teased by that same non-existent breeze, a piece of newsprint floated slowly to the ground. Whatever magic was in play, Remy's imagination was doing overtime, but when he looked around, his senses open, he could still find no source.

  "Alright," he muttered and, bending down to pick up what he could see was a newspaper article, agreed, "I'll play, for now."

  He squinted at the print in the dull light: it was the front page of some local paper and the headline read, 'Student Suicide After Hostage Trauma'. The photograph underneath was of a smiling youth and when Remy recognised him as Felix, the prickling of his skin grew worse. Still, he read on.

  'Felix Alinson, a first year IT student at The University of Mid-London, was found hanged in the old Lawson Warehouse yesterday. His parents said that Felix, 19, had never recovered from the trauma of being kidnapped by the serial killer, Raymond Holiday, suffering from depression...'

  Remy had read enough and he dropped the paper. He looked up and over his shoulder at the noose, which, once again, was hanging stock still and he was absolutely certain he was not alone. Closing his eyes, he did the only thing that would keep him sane, he thought of Theo. He had never felt such relief as his body went light and he entered the Fade.

  Remy opened his eyes as he came out of the Fade, but there was not much to see, just blackness. He flared his own magic again and then any ethereal dread turned into very real concern, because he lit up Theo. His twin was sitting in a sturdy-looking wooden chair, his head lolling forward, his position only being held because of ropes around his torso and his wrists. However, Remy only managed one step towards Theo before a dig in his shoulder precursored a shock that sent his senses spinning. Confused and afraid, Remy pitched forward and passed out.