Lucien Salverson has been cursed.

He hoped he could blame it to carelessness rather than ignorance but unfortunately, it was both.

He completely ignored Pyewacket’s advice to cautiously observe people’s aura before approaching them. And because of it, he was careless enough to attract a ghost’s attention, who has now decided to attach itself to him.

For two weeks, Lucien has been living in his own personal hell. He almost did not want to report to work or even step out of his flat, afraid he’d encounter another lost soul and accidentally make eye contact with them.

The ghost, named Hunter (Lucien recalled Murphy calling him by that name), had become his personal noise pollution. During the first week, he was loitering near the apartment complex, incessantly yelling out Lucien’s name whenever he knew he had returned from work. At first, he was able to tolerate the man’s wailing and shouting, by drowning out all the noise as he listened to music with his earphones on.

“You know I can get rid of him for you, right?” Pyewacket suggested to him one day. Obviously, Hunter is starting to get on his nerves, as well.  

“Let him be,” Lucien easily dismissed as he put his earphones back on, turning his attention back on his laptop. “He’ll get tired of it eventually.”

“Ghosts never get tired,” Pyewacket countered as he rolled his eyes and went back to his room.

He was right.

On the seventh day, Hunter resorted to making their ears bleed with his unending out-of-tune singing. At first, he belted out DeBarge’s “Rhythm of the Night”, singing nonstop at midnight up until sunrise. On the ninth day, after Lucien and Pyewacket returned home from the office, he started singing to Iron Maiden’s “Ghost of the Navigator”, well until they returned from work on the following day. And then, on that same night, he began singing to My Chemical Romance’s “Ghost of You”. This went on until the eleventh day.

It was pure mental torture. And it was only about to get worse.

On the twelfth night, he started crooning to Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”. But this time, Lucien almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his ear-splitting voice right from the entrance to his flat.

“Is this the real life life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality!” Hunter sang at the top of his lungs.

Lucien felt the walls vibrating. “Jesus Christ in a manger, will you shut the fuck up?!” he shrieked as he bolted upright in bed and took off his earphones.

Seconds later, Pyewacket poked his head through the doorway. “Can I get rid of him now?” Lucien could almost see his fangs sticking out his mouth.

His words were lost as Lucien pushed him aside and stormed towards the front door.

Hunter was standing outside the door, looking smug with his arms crossed and head held high. “Lovely evening, isn’t it, Mr. Salverson?”

“I want you double-dead, you poltergeist!”

Hunter rolled his eyes and jabbed a pinky finger in his ear. “Tell me something I haven’t heard before.”

Every muscle in Lucien’s body tightened up. “How do I fucking get rid of you?!” He yelled to the man’s face before stepping back inside his flat, slamming the door shut behind him.

“You know, if you and Murphy could only listen to a word I say, then we could’ve solved this problem a long time ago!” shouted Hunter from behind the door, still humming to the tune of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’.

“You are the fucking problem!” Lucien bellowed as he ran back to his bedroom, grabbed his wallet, and pulled out a black card.  

He didn’t want to wait for the time to come when Hunter would barge right into his flat and drive him completely insane. He should have done this much earlier, but it took all his resolve not to get in touch with him at all cost unless it’s something of utmost importance.

But desperate times call for desperate measures.

He fished his phone out, saved the number from the business card, and started typing: “Hello. This is Lucien Salverson. Got your number from the business card you gave me. I think we need to talk. I have a pest problem.”

Is this good or bad? Fuck it, this is a grave emergency!

He hit SEND, tossed his phone onto the bed, and lay in exasperation. Outside the flat, Hunter had resumed his ear-splitting singing. The sound of it should have made his ears bleed by now but surprisingly, they’re still holding on quite well.

It wasn’t until half an hour later when Lucien saw his phone screen light up. He sat up, then checked his screen:

 

 

Murphy O.  10:22 PM

 

Hi. Sorry for the late response. The company has a contract with FastKil Pest Control. Would you like me to contact them for you?

 

 

Lucien slapped his forehead in frustration. He hit REPLY, his thumbs blurring over the screen as he typed.

 

 

11:06 PM

 

Lol. I was thinking along the lines of ghostbusters. Like asap.

 

 

Ten minutes later, his phone vibrated.

 

 

Murphy O.  11:16 PM

 

Oh. You finally figured.

 

 

“What’s with that half-assed response?” Lucien’s eyebrows furrowed as he typed:

 

 

11:18 PM

 

H.E.L.P.

 

 

Barely a minute later, his phone rang. Lucien hesitated, debating whether to answer it. He decided to pick up on the third ring.

“Hello?” Murphy’s voice sounded groggy and raspy. Lucien guessed he was in bed and was probably already sleeping before he texted him.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Lucien asked worriedly.

“It’s okay, Lucien, I was just taking a short nap before I pull an all-nighter.”

“Okay. Uhm, I’m going to make this quick. That friend of yours that was pestering you? He’s here at my place, like, right now. And he’s been harassing me for two weeks. Two weeks, Mr. Odenkirk.” He spat out his words rapidly to make sure they’re not wasting each other’s time.

“Took you long enough, Lucien. I’ve been waiting for you to call me.”

Lucien sighed. “Why didn’t you just tell me upfront? Do you want me to have a heart attack? This is seriously bearing me down. I’m so close to getting him exorcised!”

“Then you could’ve called me sooner,” Murphy reasoned, his voice calm and cool. “I tried to find a way to get in touch with you as soon as I realized Hunter had stopped following me around. But you didn’t exactly hand me your business card…”

“I forgot to bring one last time we met. I’m sorry,” Lucien replied rashly. It was a lie, of course. He initially planned not to give Murphy his contact details at all.  “But now you know. This is my personal number.”

“Okay. Now, listen. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to be able to see him. And you shocked me when you started talking to him. I didn’t know what to do then. I mean, Hunter’s a perfectly harmless soul, but I admit he can be really annoying at times.”

“Annoying is an understatement,” Lucien groaned. He then raised his phone towards the hallway. “You hear that? That’s him. He’s been doing that for days and I can’t stand it anymore!” He pressed the phone back to his ear. “Please, Mr. Odenkirk, I need your help.”

Murphy paused for a moment before responding. “… Alright. Do you think we can meet tomorrow?”

“I have a meeting with a client in the afternoon. Will 6 PM do?”

“Sure. 6 PM, then. Where?”

Lucien bit his thumb before saying, “I – I’ll send you my address. Or you can send me yours? Whichever works best for you.”

Murphy considered his options for a moment. “I’m not usually home until 8, so I’ll go to you instead. Hunter will be there with you, anyway.”

“Alright. Tomorrow at 6, then. I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Mr. Odenkirk. Let’s discuss the rest tomorrow. I’ll be hanging up now.”

“Wait.”

Lucien pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Yes?”

“I… What I mean to say is…” Murphy stammered. “Have a good night, Lucien. See you tomorrow.”

Lucien chuckled softly. “With a ghost serenading me with his off-key voice, I doubt I’ll have a good night, Mr. Odenkirk.”

“Well, he’ll be dealt with tomorrow. Enjoy it while it lasts,” Murphy jested.

Somehow, Lucien felt as though he didn’t want him to hang up yet. But he refused to bank on assumptions. “Don’t stay up too late, Mr. Odenkirk. And I’m sorry for disturbing your nap. Good night.” He hung up before Murphy could even respond.

“Meeting in the pretense of business?”

Lucien nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Pyewacket’s voice. “Jesus, Pye, do you ever knock?”

“The door’s wide open though,” Pyewacket muttered as he stepped into his room. “You’re going to meet him tomorrow? Here?”

Lucien tossed his phone back on the bed. “You need to be in your canine form, just to be on the safe side.”

Pyewacket gave a silent nod.

“It won’t be long. I just need him to get rid of Hunter and discuss some things.”

“Aren’t you even wondering why he can see ghosts to begin with? I mean, I know some humans are more sensitive towards these things, but Carmichael Tech and some of its people aren’t exactly your average Joe.”

That was one of the many questions that needed an immediate answer. It was one mystery after another. But Lucien figured everything would be much clearer once he meets Murphy in person. And after this incident with Hunter, the man practically made it to his short-list of suspects, along with Audra Breslin.

But for some reason, he did not feel too thrilled about it. If anything, he was anxious.

“We’ll find out soon, Pye.” Lucien said, as he crawled into bed and pulled up the covers. “We’ll be able to gather more information about him tomorrow.”

As expected, he could barely get a wink of sleep. Hunter’s racket kept him awake all night and each time he started to doze off something would wake him. By 4 AM, there was complete silence. But he could no longer get himself to sleep. He needs to get up at 5 AM, anyway.

He stared at the ceiling in the darkness and thought about Murphy Odenkirk. Well, it wouldn’t be so bad to see him again, he thought. He closed his eyes for a moment, his mouth curving into a smile.

Somehow, thinking of him was becoming a favorite pastime.

 

---

 

It was half past 6 PM when Lucien finished his meeting with a client. He was running a little late for his appointment with Murphy and didn’t get the chance to text him.

When he arrived on his street, he quickly spotted Murphy’s blue Bentley parked in front of his apartment building. He took off his suit jacket and fixed his tie before getting out of the car.

Murphy was waiting outside the apartment, scanning each passing car, looking for him. He looked like he had just been to the gym with his gray tapered joggers and black Nike sweatshirt; his hair was neatly tied into a bun with a thin black string. This man looks striking no matter what he wears.

Murphy smiled at him as he approached, and Lucien waved back.

“I’m sorry. Mr. Furutani from iTech Powerhouse held me off over a few glasses of sake,” Lucien explained apologetically as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

“What?” Murphy eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t it too early for that? ‘You okay?”

Lucien nodded. “I’m fine. The man likes to hold business meetings over wine or sake. You’ll learn to adjust eventually.” For a moment, he couldn’t think of what else to say. He stood so close he could smell the masculine spice of Murphy’s cologne, felt the warmth radiating from his body.

For a split-second, he almost grabbed his shirt to pull him closer. Luckily by the time that thought registered, Murphy was heading toward his car. Lucien shoved the inappropriate and tantalizing thought away and reached for something, anything, to say. “Would you like us to talk at a café? There’s one around the corner.”

“Hmm… I think we should talk somewhere more private,” Murphy suggested, glancing at his car before adding, “With Hunter, of course.”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “And anyway, I prefer not to let him inside my flat.”

Murphy led him to his car, put him in the passenger seat and got behind the wheel. “You can come out now, Hunter.”

The man suddenly appeared out of nowhere, stretched out on the back seat of the car.

“Did you miss me?” Hunter asked breezily.

Murphy looked at him wearily from the rear-view mirror. “Long time no see, Hunter. Seems like you’ve been pestering my good friend over here. You never listened to a word I said. I’m disappointed.”

The ghost studied his face with mocking eyes. “How does it feel, getting a taste of your own medicine, hmm?”

Lucien breathed deeply before saying, “Let’s get things straight. What exactly do you want us to do, huh? How can you stop being a nuisance?”

Hunter glanced at Murphy with a burst of excitement, and then turned to Lucien. “For real? So you’ll listen to me?”

Murphy looked down at Lucien and shook his head warningly.  Instead, Lucien nodded wordlessly, opposing him with his eyes.

“Yes, if that’s the only way for you to stop harassing us.”

From his peripheral vision, he could see Murphy rolling his eyes. Clearly, he’s not happy about his thoughtless decision.

Murphy took a sharp breath as he tried to gain a hold on himself. “I don’t think you understand the kind of risk you’re putting yourself in. Helping a lost soul isn’t as easy as helping an old lady cross the street.”

Hunter leaned close to Murphy and crossed his arms. “Seriously, you’re comparing me to an old lady?”

Murphy shot him a cold look, then turned his head from him in stubborn silence.

“Okay,” Lucien sighed, ignoring the tension between the two. “Give me the details now. Let’s get this over and done with.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Murphy cautioned him again, his voice low and forbidding. “He’s a soul that couldn’t leave the mortal realm, and that’s because something is holding him back from doing so.”

“Or someone.” Hunter hastily corrected him. “Do you think I enjoy being in this situation? I would rather become air, then people could at least feel my presence. But you know what’s sadder?” He gave both Murphy and Lucien a bitter look. “That the people who could actually see me, pretend they don’t! Can’t you see how absolutely shitty that makes me feel?”

Somehow, Lucien was starting to feel sorry for the man. He gave Murphy an accusing look, then turned back to Hunter. This time, his expression softened. “How long have you been…” He paused, trying to find a less upsetting word, but ultimately failed. “… dead?”

Hunter sank back into the seat. “Eight years. Going nine on August.”

Lucien gasped. “What, it’s been that long? Mr. Odenkirk, how could you?”

“Wait…” Murphy cut in, completely ignoring Lucien’s remark. He closed his eyes, and from his expression, he was in deep thought. “You mean to say you only have two months left before your ninth year? No way…”

“Yes way,” Hunter snapped back at him, and then turned to Lucien with doleful eyes. “That’s how long he’s been ignoring me, Mr. Salverson.”

Murphy looked at Hunter with a somber expression. “Alright, then. I’ll help you.”

“Wait, what?” Lucien and Hunter reacted in unison.

Despite his earlier reluctance, Murphy’s mood shifted to one of determination. “What do you want me to do, Hunter? Let’s settle this as soon as possible.”

Hunter’s mouth hung open, eyebrows climbing his forehead. “Dude, I don’t even wanna’ ask what made you change your mind all of a sudden, but yes, let’s get this ball rolling!” His voice choked. A tear escaped his eyes, but he quickly wiped it away. And then, he gave a genial smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”

Lucien patted Murphy on the shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, Mr. Odenkirk.”

Murphy nodded without looking him in the eye. Lucien sensed that something was amiss, but before he could say anything, Hunter butted in.

“So, when are we starting?”

“You can start by telling me who to meet with,” Murphy said as he gazed out into the street.

So, he already knows his way around these things, Lucien thought as he looked at him sideways. Obviously, this isn’t his first time dealing with otherworldly beings.

“The thing is, I want you to go talk to a couple of people for me,” Hunter requested, his voice more solemn. “One of them… doesn’t know that I’m already dead.” He was fidgeting with the silver ring on his left ring finger.

Lucien covered his mouth as he listened intently.

“There’s something important I need to tell them before I go,” Hunter continued. “The truth is, their resentment towards me is what’s keeping me tied down here.”

“So, you can only pass on if I let these people know you’re already dead?” Murphy clarified.

Hunter gave an insipid smile. “If only it were that easy…” he said, his voice close to a whisper. “Then I would’ve gone a long time ago.”

Murphy inhaled sharply before saying, “Let me guess, it’s a lover.”

Hunter paused, then nodded.

“See, this is why I don’t want to deal with this kind of unresolved issues,” Murphy debated, his eyes turned toward Lucien.  “Anger, resentment, grief… These are strong emotions humans are often incapable of controlling and letting go of. One wrong move and things could get worse off than it already is.”

Jesus, is this guy an exorcist? A ghost hunter? How come he knows a lot about this supernatural mumbo jumbo? Lucien wondered.

“You shouldn’t poke your nose into this kind of complicated, otherworldly matters, Lucien. Let me handle this myself. This has nothing to do with you anymore.”

Lucien frowned. “Why are you saying that now? It’s too late. I’m part of this now.”

Murphy was gradually starting to dislike this stubborn side of him.

“Please,” Hunter cut in, “you need to tell them what happened to me.”

“Alright,” Lucien nodded. “Tell us how you died – “

“Don’t!” Murphy snapped. “Never ask a lost soul how they died!” He spoke with such firmness that Lucien was alarmed.

“I’m – I’m sorry. Did I do something…” Suddenly, Hunter vanished behind them. Lucien cursed under his breath. “Did I just kill him? Please don’t tell me I killed him!”

“First of all, he’s already dead. Secondly, he’ll be back soon. It’s just that…” Murphy sighed in exasperation as he looked at Lucien’s troubled face. “Lucien, you’re never supposed to ask a soul how they died.”

Lucien’s mouth dropped open; his brain literally frozen for a second. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to know that? I’m not exactly an expert in resolving spectral issues, am I? So okay, I stand corrected!” He stepped out of the car and slammed the door.

“Lucien, wait!” Murphy called out as he got out of the car and chased after Lucien. He was able to grab hold of his wrist. “Listen to me, okay? The dead can’t reveal the cause of their death.” Murphy quickly let go of his wrist when a tenant stepped out of the apartment and gave them a suspicious look.

“Okay, then. Let me hear the rest.” Lucien said in a low voice as they moved away from the apartment’s main door.

Murphy rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sort out his thoughts. “Hunter remembers how he died. But not all souls are like him. Many of them don’t remember the cause of their death at all. And then there are those who aren’t even aware they’re already dead. That’s why being sensitive toward these things can be taxing, sometimes even dangerous. You just don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“I… I don’t understand. How can we help Hunter, then?”

Murphy was reluctant at first, and said, “He needs us to tell his story to those he’s left behind. But for that to happen, we need to find out how he died.”

The mere thought of it made Lucien feel mentally exhausted.

“Now, do you understand why this can be a burden to you? Just… let me handle this. Hunter and I can settle this matter ourselves.”

Lucien lowered his head. “How come you know so much about these things?”

“This… This isn’t the right time for me to explain it to you,” Murphy reasoned, trying to avoid the subject.

“There are so many things I want to ask you, I don’t even know where to start,” Lucien muttered. He decided to pretend not to notice him avoiding a confrontation. “Tell me one thing, then. Earlier, you looked troubled when Hunter said he’d been here for over eight years. And then, you suddenly changed your mind about not helping him.”

“You’re as sharp as always,” Murphy expressed, amused at his observation. “Yes, I’m a little troubled by it. You see… if a lost soul lingers in the mortal realm for too long, they might not be able to enter the afterlife. Nine years. Nine years at most. If Hunter fails to resolve his issue by then, he’ll turn into a malevolent spirit and will haunt those who have bound him to this world. Or worse, he’ll become fodder to fiends and lesser demons.”

A warning bell sounded in Lucien’s head the moment he mentioned demons. He dug his nails into his right palm where the Lord of Avarice had etched his sigil on him. For the first time, he felt fear trickle through him.

“These creatures are everywhere, Lucien. And if you pry further into their world, I may not be able to assure your safety.”

“I don’t need protection,” Lucien grunted. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“If you think that I’ve offended you, then I sincerely apologize. But please, don’t do anything more rash than this. When it comes to these things, there’s no way of knowing what you’re up against until you’ve already come face-to-face with them. Then it’ll be too late.” And then, Murphy quickly added, “Please let me know right away if Hunter comes back. Ask him what needs to be done, then we can decide what to do from there.”

Lucien watched him walk over toward his car, waiting for him to say something more. His head was full of things he wanted to say. “Mr. Odenkirk!” Murphy looked back at him as he took a step forward.

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow’s my day off. I’d like to help as much as I can.”

Murphy nodded weakly, with no intention of objecting him. “I’m just a text or phone call away, Lucien.”

He watched in silence as Murphy stepped into the car and took off.

 

---

 

That night, Lucien realized he was no longer used to the silence. It was eerie and unsettling.

Bottles of beer in hand, Pyewacket walked around the corner and headed into the living room. Lucien had already settled himself on the couch. He kicked his shoes off and curled up on a beanbag chair next to his master, who appeared to be preoccupied with his phone. He grabbed the remote control, turned on the television and decided to watch a movie on Netflix.

“Anything worth watching in here?”

“… I don’t know,” Lucien said after a time, his face still glued to his phone. “You decide what to watch.” Pyewacket handed him a bottle, which he took and chugged half right away.

“So, how did it go?” Pyewacket asked suggestively as he swigged his beer and looked over at the television. He decided to play the first random movie that appeared on-screen.  “The ghost seems to be unusually quiet today. In fact, I haven’t seen him around in the past few hours. How’d you get rid of him?”

“I didn’t,” Lucien replied vaguely. “I’m waiting for him to come back.”

Just then, they heard a faint knocking on the door.

“It’s me,” Hunter said in a low and soft voice.

Lucien quickly bolted towards the door. “Hey there, where have you been?”

Hunter scratched his scalp, glancing sideways to gauge Lucien’s reaction. “… Here and there.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“N – No, thanks. I’m already imposing on you as it is.”

Lucien let out a laugh. “Isn’t it a little too late to be prudent?”

The sound of their hushed voices made Pyewacket uncomfortable. Now, he strained his ears to listen in on their conversation, while pretending to focus on the movie.

Five minutes later, Lucien closed the front door and sank bank into the couch, phone in hand.

“Is he finally going to leave you alone?” Pyewacket asked, pretending to be uninterested.

“We’re going somewhere tomorrow,” announced Lucien as he started typing on his phone.

 

 

8:39 PM

 

Tomorrow @ 228 Trails End Road in Coral Springs. He wants us to see someone there.

 

 

He scrolled through his contacts, clicked Murphy’s name, and hit the SEND button. He then shifted his gaze to Pyewacket, who had already finished his beer. “I need you to keep a close eye on me and Murphy. We’re heading off to Coral Springs first thing in the morning.”

Pyewacket scowled. “Okay, but why do I have to keep a close watch on the other guy, too?”

“We decided to help Hunter. His time’s almost up and he needs to leave this place as soon as possible.”

“And you decided to help him why?”

“Because he’s been stuck here for far too long, Pye.”

“And why would you care?”

Pyewacket’s incessant questions were beginning to trip Lucien up, but he was in no shape to deal with nonsense.

“I’m pretty sure you know what happens to a soul when it lingers for too long in the mortal realm. And the guy’s been here for almost nine years!”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” Pyewacket said honestly.

“Yeah, well, normally I wouldn’t,” Lucien admitted. “But not when I already know their predicament. I’m not some cold, heartless asshole, Pye.”

Pyewacket looked at him pensively, fighting desperately to control the frustration burning through him.

Lucien took his silence as agreement. “So, do you think you can manage?”

Pyewacket sighed. “Dealing with lesser demons is a piece of cake. You know what’s difficult? It’s having to deal with things you could easily avoid if you just don’t poke your nose into other people’s business.”

Before Lucien could snap at him, he heard his phone buzz under the throw pillow. He knew it was a text from Murphy, so he pulled it out immediately.

 

 

Murphy O. 8:43 PM

 

It’s a bit of a long drive. I can come pick you up at 7 and you can ride shotgun with me. You ok with that?

 

 

Lucien bit his thumb, then looked over Pyewacket. “He wants to drive us to Coral Springs tomorrow.”

Pyewacket crossed his arms. “Then I have one condition.”

“Since when did you learn to bargain with me, Pyewacket?” Lucien grunted.  

But the sharpness of his question did not faze the familiar. “Ever since I realized you make horrible decisions, Master,” he replied tartly.

Lucien figured this is turning out to be one of their arguments. Pretty soon, they’ll be in each other’s throats again, neither of them willing to apologize to the other.

What in the world had given his familiar such a distorted view of things? All he’d done was offer a little help to someone in need.

Just this one time, Lucien decided to put pride aside.

“Alright. Your stupid condition. Let’s hear it.”

“Tell that guy I’m tagging along.”

Lucien shot him a dubious look. “But why? You can just teleport straight to Coral Springs, can’t you?”

“That’s my condition, Master,” he said with a shrug. “Take it or leave it.”

With a deep sigh, Lucien started typing away on his phone.

 

 

8:45 PM

 

My dog wants to tag along

 

 

He thought better of it and deleted it before sending. He was typing and deleting, and retyping and deleting again. A couple of minutes later, he settled with a quick text:

 

 

8:47 PM

 

I couldn’t find a pet sitter to watch over my dog. Can he come with?

 

 

Murphy’s reply was almost instant.

 

 

Murphy O. 8:48 PM

 

Sure no problem. 7 then?

 

 

Lucien replied with a quick ‘OK see you’, smiled, and put his phone down.

“You two have become awfully chummy,” Pyewacket mumbled as he glanced at Lucien, and then back to the television.

“He said you can come with us. You better be in your best behavior.”

Pyewacket sank further into the beanbag chair. He pretended to be engrossed in the movie, but he had been eyeing Lucien suspiciously. “Seems like he’s already used to these kinds of things. He even knows how to deal with them. Doesn’t that weird you out at all?” he asked him suggestively.

“Hmm… He seems like an interesting person,” Lucien replied dryly as he brought the beer bottle to his lips.

The familiar frowned. Normally, his master would be curious and inquisitive by now, but he was quick to dismiss the notion as if it’s not worth looking into. Once again, he found his master’s lax and sloppy attitude quite disappointing and frustrating.

But more than anything, his strangely tolerant behavior towards Murphy Odenkirk is starting to ruffle his feathers.

He grabbed the remote control, pressed the PAUSE button, and stood up from his chair. With one step, he stood directly in front of Lucien, who instinctively leaned against the backrest and folded his arms across his chest. “Master, may I explicitly remind you that the main – and only – reason you’ve decided to establish a connection with Mr. Odenkirk, is because he’s your way to getting to know Audra Breslin.” He was in full butler mode. “This plan of yours is nothing more than some leeway that’s steering you away from your goals. In fact, that guy is a distraction. If it were up to me, I will not –“

He didn’t finish his sentence as he saw Lucien’s expression darken in a way he had never seen before.

“What the hell do you know about my goals, anyway?” Lucien demanded, voice as cold as ice.

Pyewacket paused, as if composing himself. “I know everything there is to know. Even if you don’t tell me, Lord Mammon has already filled me in.“

“Exactly. You only know what Mammon told you!” Lucien exclaimed. The anger in his face was palpable. “All these years, do you actually expect me to follow every word that fucker said?”

His words silenced Pyewacket and with each passing second, he began to regret everything he said.

“If so, then you obviously don’t know me at all. So just shut up. Better yet, stick to your plans and I’ll stick to mine.”

Pyewacket’s demeanor was quick to become remorseful. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Lucien twisted his face in a mock laugh. “Of course, you are. Can’t you just be a good familiar and do your job properly? If I needed a fucking life coach, I’d have hired one a long time ago!”

He stepped away from Pyewacket, but the familiar grabbed him by the arm, turning his face around to him. For a moment, they just stood there in silence. Lucien could feel his hand quivering.

Pyewacket dropped his gaze to the floor. “You… tend to rely a lot on the people closest to you. For once, I was confident I’m doing something right – that I’m the one you rely on the most. And I’m completely fine with that. Because I believed that, as long as you need me, I can stay by your side.” He let the words out without thinking. He didn’t want Lucien to see him as a defeatist, but he also didn’t wish to see him hurt and angry. “But then someone… someone’s getting in the way.” He pulled Lucien closer, leaning his head on his shoulder. “I’m absolutely terrified that you’ll one day cast me aside. So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for always hurting you with my careless remarks.”

He was trembling. Miserable. And Lucien did not expect all these bottled-up emotions would boil over in an instant.

Through the years, Lucien learned that words spoken in haste and out of anger should never be carved in stone. Oftentimes Pyewacket would say hurtful things to him out of anger or disappointment, but he would always end up apologizing – something that is so difficult to do. But then, Lucien would often say something hurtful back, which only makes things worse between them.

But he had been treating him much worse. He wanted to apologize, too. Wanted to make up for the years of emotional abuse he had inflicted upon him. Because all these years, he chose to deliberately ignore and take advantage of Pyewacket’s feelings toward him.

But even until now, he could not find himself to reciprocate these feelings of affection.

“You’re right…” Lucien finally responded. “You’re the person closest to me, and I’ve been relying on you far too much.” He slowly slipped his arm from Pyewacket’s firm grasp. “And now I realized I’ve been unfair to you. And I’m sorry, Pye. I’m really sorry.” He gave him a gentle pat on the back and continued, “I’d be really happy if you stay by my side. I know things have always been complicated between us, but… I doubt that will change anytime soon.”

The truth is that he always sees Pyewacket’s existence as a stark and painful reminder that he had sold himself to the devil – and with it his life and freedom. But if there is anything Lucien fears the most, it would be having to face all these trials alone. Loneliness is a formidable foe, after all. So as time passed by, Pyewacket also stood as a reminder that he is never alone.

Lucien looked up at him and for the first time, gave him a warm and gentle smile. “You’re that little voice inside my head, Pye.” He laughed softly and continued, “Literally and figuratively. I mean, you’re always there to tell me what to do. To remind me what’s right from wrong. So… I’m sorry if the things I said and did are making you feel unimportant.”

Pyewacket mustered all his self-restraint and worked up the courage not to take him in his arms. Kiss him. Forget everything else except this precious person before him.

For years, he worked so hard to maintain a casual distance between them. And between a master and his familiar, there’s never going to be a perfect time to break this frustratingly safe chasm.

In fact, he is not supposed to feel this way toward his master.

Lucien rubbed his right eye and turned toward his bedroom. “But please, don’t try to stop me from helping out Hunter. I’m serious. For once, just let me do what I want to do.”

Pyewacket hesitated for a moment, and then nodded.

Lucien studied his face for a moment, and Pyewacket thought he was going to say something to him. Instead, he placed a hand on his cheek and gave it a gentle tap.  "... I'm going to bed, Pye. You get some rest, too. We're leaving early tomorrow." He walked inside his bedroom and turned off the lights as he went.

Pyewacket stood frozen in the middle of the living room, uncertain what to do. Then he sighed deeply, put his hands to his face. He slumped down on the couch, trying to silence his muddled thoughts. The weight of his inextricable despair was almost unbearable, and he wanted to empty himself of it.

His love for Azrael Montgomery is gradually overwhelming his will to fulfil his duty. But this love will be the death of duty. And duty will be the death of love. It’s hard when these two things clash together.

And Pyewacket was caught in the crossfire.