Saturday had been spent as a quiet moment of rest. Link felt better after the boba and managed to find a way to keep himself from falling through the floor—after he did, in fact, fall through the floor by misstepping, which startled poor Ruben just after midnight before the poor vamp left for his shift. Link spent most of the weekend sleeping while Carmen kept her eyes on her phone in case Lionel needed her, and her hands on her keyboard as she tried to figure out the origins of the symbol on the strange piece of paper. The rain hadn’t let up, either, so Saturday had been draped in shadows and filled with soups, sweater weather movies, and quiet hours as Link’s nubile spirit tried to recover from the severing of its mortal coil.

When Sunday arrived and Carmen hadn’t made any breakthroughs on her research, she decided it was time to ask for some help. Patience wasn’t her strongest trait. She asked Link if he was up for a short walk, and he said he’d try. They headed out into the rainy streets of Brittle Brush and walked down the curving stone streets toward the far end of town. Carmen explained to Link how supernatural havens worked, their histories, the kinds of cryptids and myths he may come across walking the streets of the sleepy little town. Like most humans just discovering these truths, he was somewhat overwhelmed, but more in a manner that came across like curiosity than fear.

After a short walk, they arrived at a building with a sign above the door that read The Gilded Ghost, with hours on the curtain-covered window that noted it was not yet open. Carmen pointed to the stairs on the side of the building that looked as though it led up to a small unit on the second floor. A red arrow was nailed into the wooden wall.

“That looks ominous,” Link noted.

“Most things around here are,” Carmen said with a coy smile.

They ascended the staircase. At the top stood a door. On the frosted glass window—which was glowing due to a light inside of the office—the words Oddfellow Curiosities could barely be read through the rain. Carmen knocked and opened the door without waiting for an invitation. The unlikely duo walked inside, and Link gasped when he saw the red-skinned, tall demon standing behind the desk.

The massive creature was wearing a button up with only half of the buttons done, suspenders, and slacks over his near seven foot frame. He had massive curved horns that almost brushed the low ceiling, a slender tail with a pointed tip, and black hair that was long and done up in a bun. A pair of yellow-tined glasses sat on his long nose, covering his blood-red eyes that were enrobed in black sclera, and the mug he’d brought to his lips read Hot Guys Get It Done in bright red lettering.

“Uh… hello?” the demon said with a thick eyebrow cocked.

“Hi! I’d like to ask you a question,” Carmen said with a smile as she closed her umbrella.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Nope!”

The demon’s red eyes flicked to the door then back to Carmen, then to Link before he shifted away. A plume of dark smoke rolled out of his pierced nosed—a common trait for demons when their soul-fire spiked that was also a surefire sign that an emotional uptick had rolled over them—and he pursed his lips in thought before he sipped his coffee.

“Then, no,” the demon replied.

“Oh, c’mon! Someone’s afterlife is on the line!” Carmen whined as she gestured broadly to Link.

The author waved nervously.

The demon shrugged. “Uh… not my problem?”

“It could be.”

“I’m good. Waaaaay too busy.”

“With what, hotshot?”

The demon huffed again. The plum of smoke that rolled out of his nose was thicker. He vaguely waved to the basically empty desk that was covered in comics.

“It’s a murder! He’s a celebrity! And this is a demonic symbol!” Carmen said as she held her phone up for him to see.

The demon coughed, sputtering the coffee he’d inhaled as he nearly dropped his mug in shock when he saw what she'd held up. He took a few long strides around the desk and grabbed Carmen’s phone, the sensation of his burning-hot skin against her fingers caused her to yelp. As he stood beside the newcomers it was easy to see just how massive he truly was. He was built like a linebacker, a complete wall of muscle that threatened to tear his shirt every time he flexed.

“Where did you find this?” he asked.

“It was on a folded up piece of paper we found in his mouth shortly after he was discovered dead in his office,” Carmen said as she pointed her thumb at Link.

The writer once again waved nervously. “I do not like being dead and I am super confused.”

“So, Mr. Samael Oddfellow, are you interested in this case now? Huh? Are you?” Carmen asked with her hands on her hips.

“I… think we need to have a proper conversation, strange and oh-so-loud little human,” the demon said with furrowed brows. “Take a seat."

After composing himself and summoning his partner from downstairs, high demon-turned-detective Samael Oddfellow took a seat behind his desk. The detective’s partner, a handsome individual that introduced themself as Demetrius—but please, call them Demi—Oddfellow, brought up a tray with a warm kettle and some mugs for tea, along with an ethereal earl grey for the equally as grey spirit. Demi, the owner of The Gilded Ghost downstairs, was a notorious paper witch in town who also owned the glitzy speakeasy. 

They were tall, dark-skinned, and had long locs that were wound up and secured with a silver hair pick that had a dangling crescent moon on the end. They wore a lot of silver jewelry and had an androgynous style with a billowy silk button up and flared slacks that looked like a skirt when they walked, and were one of the few residents of Brittle Brush that Carmen actually knew by name. They’d crossed paths on several occasions at The Styx, and Demi had given her a tarot reading after she first moved in. That was how she knew of Sam Oddfellow’s little side business.

“So, you’re telling me that you’re a reaper without a scythe, you work at a funeral home, and your boss’ sort of boyfriend is a semi-local celebrity who was possibly murdered and none of you can figure out what happened?” Sam asked as he took a teacup from his spouse. His demeanor went from stern to lovestruck as he looked up at his lover, his tail started whipping around through the opening of his office chair and he grinned a fang-toothed grin. The racing of his heart was obvious as more smoke rolled out of his nose.

Demi set their hand under his chin and kissed his forehead. He set his free hand on their waist and leaned back in his chair.

“That’s the long and short of it, yeah. All we have to go on is that piece of paper, we won’t get the toxicology report for a while but it feels suspicious. Link was in perfect health, had an event last Saturday that he was looking forward to, a new book that released last Tuesday to promote, and had just sent in a new manuscript to his publisher all before he died. He even had celebration plans with my boss on the calendar. We couldn’t see any red flag problems when we opened him up, so it didn’t feel like it was natural causes, either,” Carmen explained.

“It feels like some heavy magics were involved. Your poor spirit is so worn down, Mr. Crane,” Demi noted with a soft tone.

Link nodded.

“He’s having a lot of issues, more so than any other spirit I’ve ever come across. He fell through my floor last night, and anytime he tries to recall anything from the week he died his spirit turns black and he like… shuts off, for lack of a better term,” Carmen added.

Demi tapped a painted nail against their lips in thought.

“This is a dangerous symbol,” Sam added.

“Indeed, quite dangerous,” Demi agreed with a nod.

“What are we dealing with?” Carmen asked. “Obviously we can’t bring Link back, but for the sake of his loved ones we’d like answers. He’s also miserable, he can’t spend his eternity in a state of pain or unable to cling to solid objects. And just because I don’t have a scythe doesn’t mean I’m a failed reaper. I can tell that he doesn’t need to be sent on, so either Death wasn’t ready for him and he died before his contract was up, or he needs answers before he can.”

“Fair point. If he needed to pass on you’d be struggling with those urges to help, and I’m guessing neither of our resident reapers have come knocking, so he must be here for a reason,” Demi reassured with a nod.

“Judging by the fact that this symbol is a serious warning, I’d say someone was making a point and he may be cursed,” Sam added.

“So he was murdered?” Carmen asked.

“I’d say so. This is a commonly used calling card for the demonic underground in the area, which means someone targeted Mr. Crane for some reason or another. The problem is, it’s a basic ass symbol that anyone can use—not just demons—so narrowing down the who or why isn’t going to be easy. And with Mr. Crane being unable to recall anything without pain or his energy being sapped, and the fact that he’s brand new to our world so we can’t even narrow down a connection, I’d say that they definitely don’t want to be found and getting answers won’t be easy. We’re in a bit of a tough spot,” Sam confirmed with a nod. He brought his boiling hot tea that smelled of sulfur, peppers, and chamomile to his lips.

Link’s spirit turned dark again. Carmen turned to look at him as he slowly started to sink into the chair.

“Oh, hey, c’mon don’t get gloomy on us,” Carmen said softly. “We don’t need you hanging through the speakeasy ceiling. We’ll figure this out… somehow.”

“The obnoxious little reaper is right,” Sam said as he set his teacup down. “It won’t be easy but we’ll figure it out. Lucky for you, I am hellishly bored, so I’m willing to take the case but that means you have to stay positive. I can only do so much, you’ll need to get your memories back but we don’t need you to force it. Not knowing what ward or curse or sigil you had put on your soul—or your body—is dangerous, so take it easy.”

“Do you think he does have a curse or something?” Carmen asked. “I didn’t noticed anything too unusual when I did the autopsy in the realm of magic markings. But he was also covered in tattoos and most didn’t seem out of the ordinary. He was a horror author, he had all sorts of runes and ghosts and black lines. Nothing felt off, either.”

“Then it may be soul-deep, but that isn’t my specialty so we’ll have to look into it. Sammy has some connections that I’m sure we can utilize, and we’re close to Penny Dead so we do have an entire academic powerhouse at our disposal if I need to make some calls. The paper part, however, I might be able to narrow down if we can get our hands on it. I am a paper witch, I could glean a lot from it if I could touch it,” Demi mused.

“We turned it over to the Aspen Harbor sheriff,” Carmen groaned.

Link looked at the phone and blinked his eyes slowly, almost sleepily, a few times. “I think that’s my notebook.”

Everyone turned to look at him. He fumbled for the phone, but was unable to grab it, so Carmen picked it up and brought it up to his face.

“Yeah, pretty sure that’s from my notebook that I use for research notes. I keep it in my desk drawer,” he mumbled as he rubbed his eye.

Carmen turned to look at Sam. The Oddfellows turned to look at each other before shifting back to the reaper across the way.

With a slow sigh, Carmen slouched in the surprisingly comfortable chair and shifted the phone around so she could look at it. She knew she was going to have to do the unthinkable, and that required driving all the way out to Aspen Harbor on her day off—again. “Guess we’re going to need to add breaking and entering to this mess, won’t we?”