It was around noon when Alice woke up with a monstrous migraine. Her phone was ringing somewhere, the world was spinning, and life seemed pointless. She struggled out of bed, rummaged through a few things in the bedroom, and found the source of that drilling sound. Who the hell had invented such a device? She didn’t recognize the number and, for a moment, wondered whether she even felt like answering, but eventually she pressed the green receiver icon.

  A man’s voice spoke on the other end. He introduced himself, then explained that he’d gotten this number from a certain woman whose daughter had been found a few days ago. He’d also heard about the seance and, although he didn’t believe any of it for a second, his wife was insisting. Alice massaged her temples, listening to him half-heartedly. She sensed his skepticism, his certainty that he could handle everything himself. She already disliked him, but when he explained what it was about, her interest sharpened.

  A small apartment in a block nearby. A typical story. They moved in after a deceased relative, cleaned up, held a mass, and everything was fine. Then they started a renovation and suddenly things began falling off shelves by themselves, footsteps were heard in the hallway, and at night whispers in the rooms. The wife was close to hysterics, the husband was fed up with this nonsense, their newborn baby was babbling to someone who wasn’t there. The longer the wife was scared, the more intense everything became, which, of course, was no surprise. They were offering high payment if it helped. If anything helped. Right. Alice sensed the intent. This guy had no intention of giving her any money for her work. He didn’t believe anything happening in the house was real, nor did he plan to indulge his wife’s hysterics. The case should have been simple, but nothing improved her mood like putting someone in their place. She arranged to come over that evening.

  She arrived a few minutes late. A young woman with a baby in her arms opened the door. Right behind her stood a tall, muscular man with a shaved head whose expression suggested neither intellect nor restraint. The immense depth in his eyes spoke volumes about a level of culture that was begging for a mercy killing. This was exactly how Alice had pictured them.

  She entered the apartment, took off her jacket and shoes, and sat on the sofa. She would have loved a cup of tea, but no one offered. She detested situations like this. She detested people like this, who thought they were better, who thought they could look down on others. The woman, though she seemed exceptionally friendly compared to her husband, also treated others like idiots. When she saw the young girl at her door, the aura surrounding her immediately took on a frequency suggesting simple disappointment. The hostess later admitted she had been expecting a fortune teller or someone who looked like a shaman.

  The young witch’s irritation grew slowly but steadily with every word. It was shaping up to be an exceptionally interesting evening.

  "The fee will be three thousand. You’ll pay me in cash by the end of the month. We’ll settle the details after the job is done," she said coolly.

  The man had been waiting for just that. He’d been looking for a fight from the very beginning, and such a statement was the perfect pretext. He immediately jumped to his feet and clenched his fists as if he wanted to hit someone.

  "I’ll pay, fuck, when I decide I should! What kind of scam is this?!"

  "Calm down, you’re making the baby cry," his wife pleaded.

  Alice had no intention of humiliating herself and arguing with them. It was pointless. They meant nothing to her; they were just more trash, of which this godforsaken earth was full. They were lucky nobody had made them aware of it until now, but perhaps it was high time for that to change. The energy around her wavered and then formed a thick wall. Instead, she sent a stream of power towards the apartment owners, which first knocked them off balance and then shook their sense of security. Alarmed, they fell silent for no reason, for a moment just long enough for the witch to speak.

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  "If you want me to leave, just say so. I don’t have to send away the man standing behind you."

  As if on command, both of them immediately turned around. From the very start of the conversation, Alice had seen the spirit standing there perfectly clearly. It only took a little nudge of power to let him materialize. Nothing more, just that. The couple saw the soul of the deceased, clear and vivid, as if a living man stood beside them. At first, they couldn’t even move, but then they fell into a complete panic and tried to flee. The ghost slammed the door shut with a bang, cutting off their escape. Huddled against the far wall, they screamed.

  "Are you their relative?" Alice asked the apparition.

  The spirit was silent at first, but the witch’s power compelled him to obey, so he answered, "No."

  "Who are you?" she asked, intuitively manipulating her power to control the whole situation.

  "I’ll kill you," the spirit snarled. "I didn’t have enough power before, but now I do. I’ll kill all of you, one by one."

  The screaming erupted anew. Alice felt she should learn the man’s story, discover the source of such hatred, his attachment to this place, and why he so desperately wanted to kill. That’s what they did in the movies, right? Only this was real life, and in real life no one had time for such nonsense. He wanted to kill, she needed power. Let the eternal law of nature decide then, the law of the stronger.

  Before she acted, she patiently waited for the couple to forget their superiority, their pride, and everything else they used to justify their rudeness. She wanted to hear them beg for her help. It had to come from them; otherwise, they wouldn’t appreciate the peace that would follow her departure. She also wanted this evening to haunt their worst nightmares for the rest of their lives. It was a little gift to herself, a bit of satisfaction after a hard day of a headache.

  After three minutes full of objects levitating and hitting them, they were whining and begging loudly enough for her to feel satisfied. They had also lost enough of their life force in the process, which she could accumulate and use for her own nefarious purposes. And since that was the case, it was high time to get to work.

  At first, the spirit didn’t know what was happening. Alice had been blocking him until now, immobilizing him so he wouldn’t lunge at anyone, and then, just like that, as if nothing had happened, she stopped. The shock made him stand there for a moment, simply not knowing what was going on around him. But it wasn’t important enough for him to deny himself an attack on Alice, who was standing closest. When his materialized hands closed around her throat, he only felt himself growing weaker. He weakened with every second, having not the slightest clue what was happening. Finally, his fury gave way to panic, and the spirit, though he still understood nothing, decided to run, or at least jump back to a safe distance. This, however, proved impossible. Alice held him with her own power, draining him like a spider drains its prey. She grew stronger with every moment, he grew weaker. Escape proved impossible; the core was exposed. That feeling again: as if she was touching something round inside, something warm, filled to the brim. The strength, inducing sheer ecstasy at the moment of absorption, the strange feeling of duality when it was over. The knowledge, experience, skills that became hers. The fading of the second self, the loneliness, the integration. It all lasted only a few seconds, but to her, it felt like a very time-consuming process. She had to admit, though, it went easier and faster than last time. Yes, this could become a habit. It definitely could.

  "Three thousand by the end of the month," Alice said, heading for the exit. The other two were still huddled under the wall. "You have no more ghosts here, so there’s no point in me wasting my time any longer. I’ll call within the week to let you know which PO box to send the money to. Somehow I don’t feel like looking at you anymore, though I have a strange feeling I wouldn’t see more contempt in your eyes if I tried."

  She put on her jacket and left without a word of goodbye.

  On her way back home, she pondered the whole situation with satisfaction. Yes, she had definitely found her path in life.