Hunted|Haunted - Chapter 8 - Look What the Rat Brought

So, bringing a ten-something years old (or however many years he is old) kid and his ghostly friend into his hideout might not have been Nexialists’ smartest idea. Firstly because it was one of the cheapest apartments in Tower-Hamlets, which meant something, secondly because It had seen a ton of redecorating, mostly by Nex himself, and that meant it was unkempt, dark, with various graffiti on walls, and a copious amount of energy drink cans laying on every given surface. Thirdly, because one certain person by name Elizabeth “Bond” Slackjaw was most likely still there, waiting for Nex to come back from this stupid walk she sent him on, just in case. And lastly, he was getting more and more haywire by the minute, and his new clients didn’t help. One was a literal ghost, another one was a child who didn’t lose any teeth in any fights in his short life, whatsoever.

— …And that's why everyone in my family has crows. But I want a snake, because-
— Hey, when was the last time you checked how long you can hold your breath for?

To which Toma inhaled and shut up, for the first time in at least 10 very, very, long and excruciating minutes. Despite being a rather smart child, Toma was awfully easy to trick into doing whatever Neven wanted him to. Nex finally took a breath, feeling so goddamn relieved, then opened the door to the apartment block. It was going to rain again today, and likely soon, so his hideout was the best available option. At least it was spacious enough that a kid could crash into it and sleep a night or two without bothering the Nexialist himself.

The air on the stairs smelled of cigarettes. Probably neighbours are smoking indoors again, not that Nex particularly cared – he survived worse. After going up a few flights, they finally stopped on the third floor. That's when Nexialist, reaching for the keys to his flat, decides to warn the newcomers.

— Oh, I forgot to tell you. I have a slightly annoying roommate, hopefully she'll fuck off pretty soon.

And, with that off the table, he opened the door and stepped into the flat, motioning for the kid to go in. Not like the ragdoll the ghost possessed could walk, right?

Ignore the silhouette in the periphery. It isn’t there. It isn’t there.

— Toma, you can't keep those. — To which the kid disgruntledly snorted. — When was the last time you successfully detected curses?
Toma made a pleading growl.
— No, I'm not going to check them for you, it'd be better if you practise.

After snarling like a particularly mean hamster, the witch took approximately 40 rocks, nuts, bolts, bottle caps, corks, wires and other trinkets of various rarity out of his pockets and socks, and stacked them near the door, in three neat lines. Then, seeing that his new friend had opened the door, he trotted after him, but not before knocking on the threshold.

Acknowledging the existence of the threshold, however, did not prevent Toma from tripping over it, subsequently hitting Nex in the knee with his own, slightly empty head.

— Ouch! — This caused Nexialist to stumble and almost fall, but he caught himself on the wall and looked back at Toma, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the room. — Hey, kid, watch it!

The kid gasped for air. Wasn't it… at least 5 minutes?

— Sorry! My shoes are still a bit big. Oh, it smells like Nana’s trunk in here. You got Taxreadery?
— Taxidermy. — Neven corrected.
— Yea, that. My Nana has 5 rat dolls dressed like ballerinas, they smell exactly like this.
— Am I comfortable to lay on?
— Oh, sorry. — Toma got up and tucked himself in the nearest corner, as witchen children often do in new spaces.

Nexialist continued looking. Then shook his hooded head in exasperation and turned away, surveying the room and sounding as if he was coughing. That’s when he seemingly noticed something, because he stopped moving and looked in one particular direction. Then said, his voice gaining two more octaves in tiredness.

— Bond. Knock it off.

There was a second of silence. Then the door to one of the rooms leading from the small hallway opened fully, revealing a rather tall woman who looked to be in her thirties. Her features were sharp, her eyes cold, and there was a gun in her hand. Thankfully, soon enough, there was a distinct quiet click, marking a safeguard changing its position, and she pocketed the gun into her coat.

— …You’re home early.
— You didn’t tell me I need to go all around the fucking hood. — Nex scoffed. Then asked, unimpressed. — Shouldn’t you go beat someone up and not scare my clients with your mug?

— Hi, lady! Are you Nexa's roommate? Do you two do kisses? — Toma waved.
The doll seemed to have a seizure.
— Kid. Never change, and I’ll die laughing before I get to have lungs
— Why? You said that when wolves are mates, they do kisses.
— That's what “a mate” means in a book about wolves!
Toy proceeded to completely lose his mind laughing.

Bond sized the clients up and seemed to come to her own conclusions on the topic. However, she looked at Nexialist and probably saw what an actual expression on his face was. Because she shook her head and went for the door, grabbing a cap on her way out and saying.

— Never mind. Your favourite noodles are in the fridge. I’ll be back when… ever you sort this thing out.
— You might as well give me the fucking keys. — Nexialist sighed. — Be ready to answer calls.
— What can I say, I’m not you.
— Wait! Can I see your scary cups? — the kid of course had his own interests.

This seemed to have the effect of a brain freeze, as both Nex and the probably only functional adult in the room looked at Toma in bamboozlement.
Neven never knew how hard he possibly could laugh, but he’ll find out soon enough. Though this degree made him lose control of the doll, and float to the left from it, dangerously close to the wall. Toma squicked in alarm, and that made Neven calm down enough to go and bite the doll again. Shame he never picked up shapeshifting, a hyena or a jackal fit this situation far better.

Bond however, had a better reaction time than Nex, because she came to her senses faster and reached for the door handle.

— Redar isn’t your first language, eh? — She smiled a pretty friendly smile, looking at Toma in the way somebody who knows what to do around kids does, simultaneously fixing the collar of her coat so that it would block most of the wind from her face. She then turned to Nexialist, and her attitude immediately changed, becoming way more serious and aloof. — Nex, they’re all yours. If you call me for help, you might as well call the morgue to reserve a place.
— Gotcha. — Nexialist got the memo, as he unfroze and nodded to her, turning around on his heels. Waved his hand. — Close the door on your way out. And you two, come with me. Toma, shoes on. I think I might have lost a nail here somewhere.

And then Nex went into one of the doors from the hallway, taking off the backpack on his way there and putting it near the wall, then disappearing inside. Bond immediately left, pulling the cap on her head and closing the entrance behind her, then locking it.

The apartment itself was… it was. It was the best thing about it – it existed. It was a lot like Nexialist himself. Exists, functional, a bit unkempt and sort of abandoned. Sure, it could probably use some plaster, and a little paint – not spray-paint that some of the walls were covered in, – but eh. It wasn't much more than a simple shelter, and neither of its inhabitants found it necessary to bother.

Toma, being taught not to touch anything as a guest, proceeded to smell everything in his way and reach. Until he came upon a particularly shaped glass bottle. A sniff of mysterious clear liquid immediately taught him not to do that any more, and his duster of a tail proceeded to do a good job cleaning his tracks.

— Oi, kid! Want some tea? — Nexialist shuffled in what looked to be a small kitchen.
Toma cheerfully chirped, and produced a couple of handfuls of tiny apples from his pockets, ones he gathered near the train tracks, and set them on the nearest flat surface. Which appeared to be a cutting table. We can’t be too sure.

Nexialist too, put some things on it. What looked to be black tea of a brand “buy one, get one for free”, some chocolate chip cookies, a whole loaf of bread, and, surprisingly, quite a few slices of expensive-looking (and smelling) cheese. Toma also added a sandwich of his own, which appeared to have unidentifiable fish in it.

— Just about how big are your pockets?
— I don't know, I think I've enchanted them wrong. I think your cheese went bad
— Nah, that’s just a thing for flavour. — Nex let out a short, slightly raspy laugh. — Who’d have thought that mould and cheese paired well, but here we are… — He coughed, then finally turned away from the counter, grabbing the tea bags. — I'll put the kettle on. Feel free to have at it.

Toma was apprehensive of the weird cheese (though his favourite drink was literal mouldy tea), and, having sandwiched his sandwich between more bread, started munching on it, sitting on a dark green plastic crate.

Nexialist, in the meanwhile, put a kettle with water on a little portable electric stove nearby, then, seemingly remembering something, went back to the door and into the hallway. He was back in under a minute, with his backpack in his hands. Upon reaching the counter, he opened the bag and started taking some colourful metallic cans out of it.

— See this stuff? Don’t drink it. I know you’re a witch, so it probably won’t matter to you, but it’s toxic six ways to Sunday.
— Is it toxic on Sundays?
— It's still not for you, Toma.
— Yeah. Listen to your… friend, I guess. It will give you all sorts of issues. — Nex nodded in agreement with Neven. Then, threw the backpack in the corner of the kitchen, took one of the cans – the bright pink one, opened it and chugged what looked like half of it in one gulp. Only after that, he leant on the wall near the kitchen window and breathed out a sign of relief. — Alright, while we’re waiting for you, kid, might as well tell me some more info about your dad. Surprisingly, that’s a thing I’d need more for now.
— My dad disappeared 8 years ago, about a week after my twin died, that would be… 12th of March, I think? Around that time, yeah. He and uncle Harvey were pretty close, he came around often. The past couple of years, he's been travelling, and when he gets somewhere, he sends us a postcard, and the last one was from here. So I went here. I have-... Hold on, I have a different photo — Toma produced an old, monochrome group photo, and proceeded to point out all the witches in it. Mum and dad, uncle Harvey and auntie Lara, uncle Udbaj, uncle Talib and auntie Farzada. Neven could feel shivers down his spine, seeing the whole circus together now made him feel uneasy. — Harvey travels, Lara lives in Woodmur, Udbaj lives faaaaar north, and he sleeps for half a year. Like a bear. I don't know where Talib and Farzada live, but it was very hot there, and everything is marble.
— Judging by the names and your description, somewhere in the Middle East, probably. — Nexialist hummed thoughtfully. — I mean, so far it checks out. And your dad's name?
— I..
— Krsto Pathfinder, born Miloš Lowac.
— Mum told you?!
— He also goes by multiple call-signs, nicknames, fake names, and such. No way to know them all. Has ties in Hell, and most random of places. Got a knack for getting himself into trouble. Skilled spellcaster, but his methods are questionable and unorthodox.
— How questionable?
— Remember how I've taught you how to cast with a gun?
— Yea.
— Think you could've done trapping circles with that?
— I.. what?
— About that questionable. Miscasted since birth, pacifistic and docile by default. — Neven left the doll. — Pretty much look for this, but less dead and with a beard.

Nexialist hid his reaction behind the hood and the can of the energy drink, but it could be imagined that he almost tensed in fear for a second. However, all he said as he looked at Neven was:

— Huh. Interesting. — He sipped on the drink once more, finishing it. Then noted. — All I can say right now is he’s definitely not in this part of Nario. Probably not even in Nario. I can’t say I live an isolated life and, well… Birds of a feather and all. — Nex shrugged, then added. — At least, if he’s as much of a conman as I think he is, I’d hear about him, were he in the city. — He noticed Toma’s expression and immediately interjected. — Of course, my info alone can’t be fool-proof and a hundred percent accurate. — He then turned to look at Neven. — As for you, Your Ghostiness – no, I’ve not forgotten, I have some clues on who might help your situation, but that depends on how you want to solve it. I know a few mediums, one necromancer-in-hiding, and some other people.
— I know plenty of people myself, thank you very much, help the kid first.
— Okay. Suit yourself.