Doc Tesseract

The adventures of Greg Silverman, retail industry employee, prospective college student and superhero.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Beantown or Bust, Part 3

So, Officer Possessed looked up at the roof and saw us standing there. He raised his gun to fire, but by the time the bullet left the chamber, Frank and I were on a roof on the other side of the street.

"Is that really a ghost?" I yelled.

"How should I know?" he asked. "I'm not psychic, you know." There was a pause while he reflected on the idiosyncracy of that. "Okay, maybe I'm telekinetic, but I'm not--"

By this time, Officer Possessed had found us, and started floating up to the roof to reach us. You read that right; floating. I shot off a beam at the guy, and he ended up back on the street.

"I've got an idea," I said. "This... whatever the hell it is... is riding the cop. If we knock out the cop, then whoever's inside him will probably get out and look for another host. I'll distract him, you lay the psychic whammy on him."

"Good one," he said. "There's another thing. I'm no occult expert, but I learned a few... invocations. Just in case. If that thing's a ghost, I might be able to drive it out while it's free."

"I thought you said you couldn't tell if it was a ghost," I said. Officer Possessed was flying up at us again, so I shouted, "Give us a moment, all right?", then ported him back to street level.

"At that moment, I couldn't," he emphasized. "But he has to be out of the body for it to work. As long as he has a host, he's bound to this plane in some way. When he's free, he can be given the boot."

"Okay," I said. "Here goes nothing." With that, I ported down to street level. The minute I hit the ground, I saw Officer Possessed reel as if hit by a ton of invisible bricks, then fold up and hit the ground. Frank had done his part, and sure enough, the Ghosts' ghost was pouring out of the guy like mist. After a few seconds, he materialized, and came flying at me. Luckily, I ported to the other end of the street before he could turn me into Linda Blair.

From the rooftops, I heard Frank chanting something in Latin. I could see the ghost spin on its heels and go flying at him. Before I could shout a warning, the ghost hit Frank--

--and bounced right off him.

Frank's incantation continued, this time in English: "In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I send you from this plane! Now get the fuck out of my town!" With that, the ghost started to lose form, going from a solid if somewhat misty Asian man to mist to nothing at all in a matter of seconds.

"Thanks," I said.

"No, thank you," he said. "If you hadn't distracted him enough for me to get the protection spell in place, I'd be getting jerked around like a puppet."

We looked for the other, mortal Ghosts, but they'd run away during the carnage. "I should've been prepared," I said. "If I'd seen the police station, I could have ported them away."

"Well, why didn't you see the police station?" Frank said.

"I was distracted sightseeing," I mumbled. "Guess I'm gonna need to be a sidekick for a little longer."

"Hey, you did okay," said Frank. "Look, I think you can handle Boston by yourself. But, just in case..." He reached into his vestments and pulled out a piece of paper. "My cell phone number," he said. "I know it's not as fancy as Todd's little sigil system, but it should do."

I took it. "Thanks," I said. "For everything."

The rest of the patrol was uneventful. We stopped at the precinct in Southie, so I could have a place to send bad guys. "I remember when I dragged Whitey Bulger in here, kicking and screaming," Frank said. "Those were the days."

After that, I said goodbye to Frank and ported back to my dorm.

Well, it could've gone better, I thought, but then, it could've gone worse. And hey, I've got time, and I've got help.

I think I'm gonna like it here.

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