The Proxy

SJ Shoemaker
Word Count: 1,207
5/12/2020

“The eyes! Why do they glow?”

Tia forced herself to exhale. She pressed her damp palms against each leg and made her first mental note. The dark room before her didn’t glow with luminescent red spikes; It wasn’t an Ustron. That was good. Very good. Less chance she’d be eaten before her father downstairs could hear her scream. But there were many other dangerous spirits that could belong to that voice.

“It sees us!” Another voice rang from the shadows like rusted windchimes clattering to the floor. “It has made us known.”

Two spirits, living together. Tia scratched another potential breed from her checklists. Yfles were the most common of attic dwellers, but they were extremely territorial. They wouldn’t allow another of their kind within 50 miles of them, let alone in the same room. Tia scanned the blackness before her for any other clues. The large exposed beams on the heavily slanted ceiling played tricks on her eyes. They met at a point easily ten feet above her, casting shadows in strange angles over the amorphous mass at the far end. From her inspection of the house exterior, she knew a window covered the far wall, but no light shone through. Either the spirits had used something to block off the window, or they were large enough to block it themselves. Size wasn’t a necessary sign of danger, but it certainly wasn’t encouraging.

“I demand Parlay.” Her voice was stern, firm. Nothing like her quivering insides.

They responded with grunts of wobbling sheet metal. Indefinable movement. Two sets of blue eyes squinted toward her. In the far corner, something Tia mistook for a crumpled shirt or a shag carpet moved. A tail maybe. Kokates? She listened closely for the sound of stray wing flaps. Nothing. If her father were there, he’d already know what he was dealing with, already be digging through the worn leather bag she now wore around her neck for the right precious metal or gem. Tia righted herself, she had to stay focused. Any visual or sound, even the slightest clue could give her the advantage.

“I demand Parlay, ”she stated again, less sure of herself, her voice cracking on the last syllable.

“It has no right to make demands here.” metal chords bent unnaturally from the darkness.

“I am a Proxy.”

“It is unwelcomed. Shining its golden eyes, making us known to the world without cause.”

“You made yourselves known,” came her reply.

Spirits were allowed in the human realm under the condition of invisibility. Only a Proxy, trained in negotiations and arbitration could see them. And even they wouldn’t acknowledge a spiritual presence unless a deal needed to be brokered. With the right combination of currency and promises, most spirits could be convinced to quietly relocate. The trick was to know what to offer and avoid being perceived as stingy. She’d heard the tales of Proxies—many older and more experienced than her—who died or caused other’s deaths with a low offer. Spirits were forbidden from refusing a valid offer. But “valid” was in the eye of the beholder. A foul spirit in the wrong mood could take to murder in seconds. That was forbidden too. Both resulted in eternal banishment. But they could only be banished once, no matter how many humans they snuffed along the way. For some, it was a fair price to pay. If they had to leave their home anyway.

“Lies!” A chain-link fence rattled.

Footsteps echoed heavily, scraping from every direction against the creaking wood floor. So many feet. Were there 3 of them? More? The carpet tail retreated into the darkness, joining the shapeless mass of fur.

“The elderly couple you live with—”

“They live with us,” said one.

“We were here first,” came another.

“Regardless, they heard you.”

A loud bang caused Tia to jump and let out a small yelp. Fists or body, smashing against the aged floor in a violent outburst. In a moment her mind jumped back to her nightmares the evening before, a deal she had read about. A young Proxy—on his first negotiation, like her—failed to reach an agreement with a Ustron. It skewered him with its barbed tail and burned down the surrounding city. It took three days to carry out the Ustron’s sentence of banishment, but not before killing hundreds of people. Tia sighed in relief, at least this wasn’t an Ustron. She let out another in thanks for the location of the countryside estate. They were miles from the nearest neighbor, so the only people these spirits could kill were… she shook the thought. 

“They heard you.” Her heart pounded in her chest and head alike. “And while the old man thinks you are raccoons, his wife is spiritual. Thinks you’re ghosts.”

“We are no ghosts, stupid human.”

“No, you’re spirits. But to a stupid human, what’s the difference?” She chanced a step closer, trying to define the edge of their forms. There were too many arms and legs, the eyes had vanished. “They heard an unworldly presence and called me, a Proxy to handle it. Now I demand Parlay.”

“Lies!” one of them repeated. “They never heard us before. Not over their noisy television.”

“It broke the contract. It told them about us?”

The carpet tail emerged from the shadow for a moment, bending sharply. Not a tail, an elbow. A joint in a 10-foot-long arm. Arriloths. Tia nearly jumped with excitement. She finally knew what she was speaking to. Arriloths were ugly creatures, covered in wiry black fur on all 6 spindly limbs. Like the cross between a spider and boar. They longed for nothing more than rest, and their fear…

Tia stepped forward again, toward the dangling sting in the middle of the room. “Of course I didn’t tell them about you. They wouldn’t believe me if I did. Not without eyes like mine. They think I’m up here catching coons.” She couldn’t help but smirk, stopping inches away from the cord, looking up toward the angled ceiling. “And the TV usually masked your movements, true. But the power’s been out for three days. See?” She reached up and pulled with a deliberate motion, the cord recoiling with a satisfactory click.

Nothing happened. The light overhead remained un-powered. The Arriloth made no sound of movement, frozen, staring at the dead bulb. What they feared most of all was light which kept them from their precious rest. No wonder they hated her eyes.

“It won’t be off for much longer, though,” Tia said. “My dad’s downstairs fixing it as we speak. Any second now.”

Hisses like a storm drain cover dragging across the asphalt. Both pairs of eyes were visible now, staring through her, unblinking and filled with hatred. “No light! Please no light!”

“I’m going back downstairs in just a moment, and I’m going to tell this sweet old couple that their raccoon problem has been dealt with. Their two raccoons left out the window, scared away right before the power came back on.”

“We were here first.”

“They live with us. They cannot drive us from our home without compensation.”

“Then I will say this only once more,” Tia said with a laugh. “I am a Proxy. And I demand Parlay.”