The air in Highcliff Town felt quite fresh. It was very different from other settlements Jack had been to. It was a bit too unfamiliar for Faceless Jack, the wandering ghost.
He had been drifting through the city, when a sharp tug of raw, unfiltered pain and fear slammed into him. It was not just any mundane negative emotion.
This was the kind that clung to the world. It was a residue of injustice so thick it practically vibrated with grudge. Jack followed the invisible thread to the source. It was like a moth drawn to a flickering flame.
It led him to a narrow alley. The alley was reeking of stale ale and forgotten dreams.
There, hovering near a overflowing garbage bin, was a little girl. A ghost. But she was so unlike the Drenched Woman, the ghost he faced in the past.
The Drenched Woman had been a silent swirling vortex of hate and rage. This one was actually crying loudly. Big, silent tears streamed down her spectral cheeks.
"What the heck?" Jack muttered. His voice, only existing because of his [Banshee's Requiems] echoing eerily even in his own incorporeal ears. He floated closer. "Why are you crying here, Girl?"
The girl flinched, her eyes widening in terror. Understandable, really. A faceless ghost popped up out of nowhere. His voice was laced with the echoing reverb of [Banshee's Requiem]. It wasn't exactly comforting.
"Don't freak out, girl," Jack said, trying hard to modulate his tone. He hated having to self-censor. But scaring the shit out of a dead kid wasn't exactly on his to-do list. "You're a ghost. I'm a ghost. We're both dead. What are you afraid of?"
She sniffled, her wide eyes still fixed on his blank face. "Y-you're a ghost?"
"Yep," Jack confirmed. "Faceless Jack, friendly Harbinger of Vengeance, at your service. Now, spill. What's with the waterworks?"
Hesitantly, she began to speak, her voice barely a whisper. "He... he killed me."
"He?" Jack prompted.
"My step-father," she choked out, "and... and his lover. They... they did it because I saw them. In Mommy's room. They were... naked."
Her face scrunched up in confusion and fear. "Mommy was at work. But they were doing bad things to her room. I'm scared they'll do bad things to Mommy too!"
Jack felt a familiar surge of anger. It rose in his chest like bile. He'd seen enough twisted shit in his short, undead life to last several lifetimes. "Alright, kid. Tell me everything. Name, address, the whole damn story."
The girl's fear slowly gave way to a fragile hope. He told him her name was Linna Fyrgill. Her mother, Amber Montborough, owned the Amberwine Restaurant in the Highborn District.
They lived in a mansion in Eastcliff. Linna's father, Lord Fyrgill, was an ennobled merchant who died a couple of years ago. Her widowed mother remarried just last month.
Her step-father, Baron Montborough, was a washed-up noble clinging to the last vestiges of his former glory. And he had a bodyguard, a particularly nasty piece of work.
Jack listened, filing away the information. "Okay, Linna. First things first, you need to learn to control your… ghost-ness."
He spent the next few minutes explaining the basics of invisibility. He tried to use analogies that even a dead child could understand.
"Think of it like holding your breath," he said. "But instead of air, you're holding onto your… visible-ness."
With a bit of practice, Linna managed to flicker in and out of sight.
"Good," Jack said. "Now, let's go visit your mother. Time to warn her about your scumbag step-father."
They drifted through the city. Linna was clinging close to Jack. The Eastcliff District was everything Asquall Village was not. It was opulent, clean, and disgustingly wealthy.
The Fyrgill mansion was a luxurious and artistic new building. It was a testament to a wealth that had just been acquired quite recently.
As they approached the front door, a wave of icy dread washed over Jack. Something was very, very wrong. He phased through the door. Linna followed close behind him.
The scene inside was a tableau of horror. Amber Montborough lay sprawled on the floor. Her eyes were vacant. A dark stain bloomed across her chest.
Standing over her was Baron Montborough. His face was contorted in a mask of cruel satisfaction. Nearby, a gaudily dressed woman stood. Her eyes were gleaming with malice.
And there was a hulking brute of a man. His muscles were straining against his ill-fitting clothes. The bodyguard.
Linna gasped. A heart-wrenching sob escaping her lips. "Mommy!"
Jack didn't hesitate. He unleashed a wave of pure nightmare. A cacophony of horrifying images and sounds appeared in full power, designed to shatter their sanity.
[Nightmare Shapeshift] warped the room, twisting the walls into grotesque mockeries of themselves. [Banshee's Requiem] amplified Linna's sobs into a deafening shriek.
The Baron and the woman screamed. They were clutching their heads. But the bodyguard barely flinched. He shook his head, his eyes clearing with unsettling speed.
He stared directly at the invisible Jack. A knowing smirk was spreading across his face. This wasn't just some muscle-for-hire. This was something else, something darker.
"A ghost?" The bodyguard chuckled in a gravelly rumble. "How… quaint."
The Baron, recovering slightly, pointed a trembling finger at Jack. "Kill it! Kill it now!"
The bodyguard lunged, his massive fist swinging with surprising speed. Jack barely managed to phase out of the way. This wasn't an ordinary thug. He was radiating a strange, sickly light, a perverse imitation of divine power.
From what he recently learned, Jack knew instantly what he was... a Fallen Acolyte. He looked at the unveiled pendant on the bodyguard's necklace. Lotus shaped silver symbol. He was from the Cult of Purity, a nasty bunch of insane guys who worshipped the Pure Goddess.
A white light flashed at him. Jack closely evaded it. This came from the woman with gaudy dress. She was also a Fallen Acolyte.
The bodyguard charged at him again with his glowing fists. Jack hit him with a flash of pure-darkness nightmare as he evaded. But again, the bodyguard shrugged the nightmare away in seconds.
Two curses disguised as white light targeted him. Jack had to do acrobatic maneuver on air to evade it. The Baron was also a Fallen Acolyte.
Jack groaned. This wasn't a fair fight. Not in his current state.
"Linna, we gotta go first!" Jack said, somehow able to grab the small ghost's spectral hand.
He pulled her through a doorway and into a nearby room. He scanned frantically for a reflective surface.
A mirror! He dashed at it while focusing his power. [Bloody Mary's Mirror World]!
The mirror shimmered, the glass turning liquid. He pulled Linna through the portal. They stepped into the familiar yet unsettling space of his Mirror Room.
"What is this place, Bro?" Linna whispered. Her eyes were still filled with pain and sorrow.
"A safe place," Jack said, his voice grim. "For now. But I need to be stronger to fight those bastards. Don't be afraid, Girl! I need to transform."
He focused his will, channeling his power. [Incarnation Shift]. He felt his form slowly shifting, solidifying. Bones creaked as it appeared. Muscles and skins stretched out from nowhere. He slowly turned into... something else.
"Close your eyes, Girl. This transformation process is... pretty ugly." He warned.
Linna kept watching with her widened spectral eyes though.
When the transformation was complete, Jack stood before her in his Draugr form. Gaunt, skeletal, and radiating an aura of chilling power.
Torn clothing clung to his emaciated frame. A hooded, torn robe completed the image, making him look like a twisted incarnation of the Grim Reaper. He raised his hand and a wicked-looking scythe on the floor flew to it.
This would be the first debut of Jack Deathspark. He would send those three Fallen Acolytes to hell in this form.
"Okay, Girl!" He said. His voice was now a guttural rasp. "Let's go give those bastards what they deserve."
He touched the only mirror in the room and reactivated his mirror traveling power. Again, the mirror shimmered and seemed liquidified. He stepped through it back into the real world. Linna floated silently behind him.
The Fyrgill mansion was silent. The earlier chaos was replaced by an unsettling calm. Where were they?
"They're in the basement, Bro!" Linna suddenly said. "They want to do bad things to my body and Mommy's body."
Lina floated forward, showing the way. Jack grunted and immediately followed. She led him down to the basement.
Jack kicked down the door of the basement. His scythe was held ready.
The scene that greeted him made his blood run cold. If he had any. The Baron, the lover, and the bodyguard stood around a makeshift altar.
Amber Montborough's body lay upon it. Her lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. And next to her was... Linna's corpse, pale and lifeless. They were preparing some kind of unholy sacrifice. Using both mother and daughter.
Rage erupted within Jack's dead heart. It was colder and more potent than anything he'd felt before.
He roared and charged. A whirlwind of death and fury. His [Draugr's Combat Instinct] was automatically activated.
The Fallen Acolytes turned. Their faces were twisted in surprise. They unleashed bolts of cursed energy, crackling with white light.
Jack dodged and weaved. His movements were surprisingly graceful for a walking corpse. The energy bolts glanced off him. It did little more than charring his already ruined clothes. He had a dead body. Curses meant nothing to it.
He moved with brutal efficiency. His scythe was a blur of smoky black iron.
The woman was the first to fall. Her head was separated from her body with a single, swift stroke.
The Baron followed quickly after. He fell down as he tried to evade Jack's scythe. His screams were cut short as Jack ended him. With a bone-crushing foot stomp that crush his skull.
The bodyguard was the strongest of the three. He put up more of a fight. He met Jack's scythe with his glowing fists. The clash of metal against stone-like fists echoed through the basement.
But Jack was relentless. His [Draugr's Combat Instinct] guided his every move. He parried, dodged, and countered with deadly precision.
Finally, he found an opening. He tripped his opponent. And drove his scythe through the his heart as he fell. The white light faded from the acolyte's eyes. He died.
...
With her enemies dead, the chain of regret and worry that bound Linna's soul to this world dissolved. She floated towards Jack. Her face was filled with a mix of sorrow and gratitude.
"Thank you, Brother Ghost," she whispered, her voice fading. "You avenged Mommy... and... me."
And then, she was gone. Faded into the aether, finally at peace.
Jack stood there for a moment, his Draugr form rigid. He looked down at the carnage. At the blood and the broken bodies.
He hadn't managed to save anyone. He was indeed not a material for a savior. He was at best... an avenger. The Harbinger of Vengeance. A grim reaper dealing out justice in a world drowning in darkness.
He sighed and moved his dead body. First, he moved to the dead acolytes.
He was a draugr. He got stronger by consuming souls. He had a bottom line: Never consume the souls of the innocents. But he had no reservation for the souls of damned bastards like these three acolytes.
Jack raised his hands and three swirling reddish mist came out from each of the acolyte corpses. Jack condensed the three swirling mist into a ball of reddish mist in his hand. Then, he opened his gaunt mouth and engulfed the whole ball.
Jack felt energy infusing his draugr's physique. He looked at his status page. His [Attributes: Physique (71)] had improved into [Attributes: Physique (72)]. Just one point increase. But it was better than nothing.
He then hauled the corpses of Linna and her mother on his shoulders. He would take them to his Mirror Room.
And then he would need to bury them in a hidden place. He would not let anyone desecrated them anymore. Linna had called him 'Brother'. So, he had to at least did this for her... as her 'brother'.