Secrets of Ghosts

~Present day~ ~A Fast Bus to Nowhere~ ~Santu of Visions~ Daffodil of Diamonds~ There was something very wrong with this whole venture. Santu was woken from his insipid sleep by the howling echo of a wounded animal, only to find himself back in the stormy night on the same lurching bus, going nowhere fast. The vehicle was rattling violently in the torrential downpour, hurtling at an alarming speed. Every now and then, its wheels would slide on the the slick road making Santu’s stomach twist. Musty dank air filled his nostrils and the freezing cold air was making it difficult to think – but it didn’t stop the visions. Outside, past the clammy windows, the highway was dark and empty save for the black silhouettes of leafless trees ebbing from a low eerie mist. Thunder ached in the deadened gloom like a far-off warning, and lightning flashed in bursts across the sodden, starless sky. Rain hammered on the roof of the pitching bus and frosty clouds drifted through the aisles as if seeking refuge. Why hadn’t they told him he was going somewhere this cold? Santu’s gaze slid up to the full moon; he could swear it had a face. Its distant light shone on his dark Spanish skin and shoulder length black curls. Shivering, he huddled into his leather jacket to keep in whatever warmth he could and tried to concentrate on the visions. They had been growing stronger and more controlling since he had agreed to this ‘research mission’ but in his heart, he knew the truth had already been seized and locked away. Santu skimmed a look at those on board. Six other duped kids that had somehow managed to abandon their lives to attend a Secret Society Program: All of them masters of their own secrets; all of them masters of a skill unusual enough to be accepted by the underground group. None of them seemed to be interested in making eye contact or conversation. If his visions were anything to go by, they’d have to talk eventually. He wondered if any of them could match his skills. Santu was an anomaly, a glitch in the human strain, a genetic aberration that had already seen his mother die. The reminder made him angry and he tried to bend his thoughts back to the unacceptable cold. As he rose to complain to the uninterested and apparently unaffected bus driver, the vehicle abruptly lurched to a halt. The unexpected shift threw Santu forward, smashing his face into the back of the seat in front of him. As his face struck the metal railing he heard a horrible crack: His nose was broken. As blood trickled from his nostrils the horrible stench of mould and death filled his mind before a shrill voice erupted from the front of the bus. “I am Madame Glizsnort,” screeched the woman who had just alighted. Dressed in a long, gray, woolen skirt, short high-heeled boots and a gray jacket which displayed two looping ‘G’s’ on its lapel, she exuded cold indifference. “For your stay on this trip you will be under my guidance.” The woman’s piercing gaze regarded everyone from the front of the bus. With her pale eyes, gray complexion and high silver bun, Santu thought she could have been an ice-sculpture hung with clothes and a wig. Motioning to complain, he felt himself being forced back into the seat. “Sit down!” Madame Glizsnort shrieked. “I will not have insolence in my presence!” And probably for the first time in his life, Santu felt hesitant. Apparently he was not alone. Furtive glances darted from one to the other across the bus – eye-contact finally, mused Santu to himself. But the worry was creeping around him, icy fingers curling across his skin. He was not getting any visions from this strange woman and that scared him more than he cared to admit. “Now,” Madame Glizsnort began again trying to sound just a little less harsh. “I am to be your guardian and tutor for this undertaking.” Her tone was practiced, almost calculated. “I know you have all come from far away, some further than others.” Her icy stare focused on the girl with the messy blond hair and patchwork clothes. There was something about her. Daffodil thought her heart may freeze instantly with the intensity of Madame Glizsnort’s gaze. In fact, Daffodil was from a very long way away and had a history of secrets that would make the discovery of the Holy Grail seem mundane. As far as Daffodil knew, absolutely no one had a clue about her past – except her parents, and they couldn’t tell anyone, obviously. But right now it felt like this strange woman with the cold silver eyes was staring into her brain, reading her very thoughts, seeing into her memories and exhuming her life; bit by bit. “Your name girl?! What’s your name?!” “D..Daffodil, Madame,” she replied, her Australian twang sounding broken in the silence. “Try to remember it then!” The ice-sculpture shook her head. Daffodil nodded, her big brown eyes wide and unblinking. If Madame Glizsnort hadn’t finally moved her stare to the back of the bus Daffodil would have vomited. Not a good start to her first Secret Society mission. Had her escape from The Institution been a foolish decision? Was the whole research thing real? Had her grueling admission been a sham? Blinking a few times, she let salty tears wash back over her burning eyes. Madame Glizsnort seemed disgusted with them all. “There will be an introduction ceremony once we reach our destination,” she continued determinedly, “and then we have a very demanding schedule of advanced research. After this, you will put your abilities into action.” She paused for a moment as she eyed each of them. “And remember, I am not interested in cry babies! The quicker you follow the imperative and perform, the quicker you will be finished!” Santu didn’t like the way she emphasized the word ‘finished’. If his nose hadn’t throbbed so badly, he may have tried to focus on his visions, but the pain was making it impossible for him to judge just how serious this situation was. And then a flood of arctic water rushed through Santu’s brain. It felt like time had stopped, as if all the knowledge he had ever accumulated was suddenly dissolving into nothingness. Just before everything began to fade, a few thoughts pushed themselves to the frosty surface of his mind: In the freezing cold midnight hours of this strange rain-soaked night, how had this gaunt, shrew woman managed to stop a speeding bus and alight without a single droplet marking her clothes? As this thought formed, another whole, and completely overwhelming notion, swelled in his mind. And that’s when Santu noticed Madame Glizsnort was staring straight at him. And a small trickle of blood oozed from his damaged nose.