The female ghost snickered as she increased the length of her limbs, and now her face was dangling beside Eli's.
"Why so cold?"
There was a roughness to her voice, almost as if her throat was being pinched.
Indeed, when he subtly looked at her from the corner of his eye, there were strangulation marks on her twisted neck.
"I know you can see me. Why not talk a bit? Is this lecture not boring? Everyone is dozing off."
Caught by her words, he surveyed the room.
Sure enough, several students struggled to keep their eyes open. A few had even surrendered and rested their heads on their desks.
A chill blew on his ear, making him shudder.
If it weren't for him doing two exorcisms the previous day, he would have easily dealt with these ghosts.
Taking out a thin golden chain from his bag, he kissed the blessed cross.
Just the sight had the female ghost running to her corner.
"Keep this close to you." Father John had personally blessed it for him.
Most of the time, it was kept in his bag, but perhaps it was better to just wear it.
Listening to the hissing aimed at him, his lips twitched in amusement.
Why was she angry? Was he not supposed to protect himself?
Ghosts and humans were similar in that sense. They all liked to blame the other.
Instead of wearing it on his neck where he had left two uppermost buttons open, he wrapped the golden chain around his pale wrist three times before securing a lock.
The Jerusalem Cross hung just beneath the curve of his palm, no longer than his pinky.
It was a small, square emblem etched with five crosses, representing the five wounds of Christ.
The edges had dulled over time, the once-detailed carved figure faintly smoothed by years of nervous fingertips brushing against it.
However, if the skilled eyes saw it, they would immediately see the golden aura enveloping the cross and its wearer.
If Eli had to marvel at something about his godfather, then it had to be the way he blessed things.
The charm he kept in his pocket had managed to hide his own aura. If not, the female ghost wouldn't even dare to approach him.
It saved him from the prying eyes.
Just as the bell rang, Eli stood up. It was better to leave early than to wait for these sleepyheads.
The tall student in front stood at the same time, and somehow, as he turned around, the water bottle ended up splashing on Eli's left side.
"Shit!" the young man panicked. "Sorry, father. I didn't mean to."
There it comes. For some absurd reason, some students called him 'Father'.
He was only twenty-four, not forty-two! 'Father' didn't suit him in the slightest.
Exasperated, Eli raised his hand before the other went into an apologizing spree.
"It's alright, child. But don't call me Father. I have not taken a vow to become a priest." The only reason why Eli bothered with a long-winded explanation was for all the students to listen. At least that way, they wouldn't call him with that title.
"Ah?" The boy looked almost dazed. "Ah, yes. I apologize for that, too."
Eli let out an audible sigh. It was always like this.
He packed his bag and, amidst the wild laughter of the female ghost, left the classroom.
Only Chase never flinched around him, not even after learning he'd studied at a seminary before joining Kingsmere.
As for the rest, they often stayed as far away from him as possible. If someone interacted with him, they were scared away by the way he spoke.
But... can they blame me? Eli mused to himself as he made his way toward the bathroom.
He grew up with Father John. So calling others 'child' had become his instinct by now.
Shaking his head, he stared at the reply to his message.
Eli, "Bring me new clothes from my locker."
Chase, "Be there in five!"
When Chase rushed to the bathroom with his clothes, he was panting like a dying hyena.
"Was it a ghost?"
Well, partly. If not for her, Eli would've waited until everyone had left as usual.
So he nodded.
"Damn it! I missed it again!"
Only Chase would be disappointed about missing a vengeful ghost.
"Hold this," Eli handed over his hoodie before heading into the stall to change.
Thank God for warm weather. Any colder and he'd be shivering.
He swapped his blue shirt for a maroon one, paired with blue jeans and the white hoodie.
...Why did this color combo feel so wrong?
Only the white sneakers matched his taste. The rest was as jarring as Chase's neon-orange shirt with black jeans.
"You look good," Chase said, nodding like a stylist at a runway show. "I have such great fashion sense."
The words of rebuttal rose to his tongue, but Eli swallowed them. Anyway, he didn't have much sense of fashion to speak of. It was also his fault that he let Chase stock a few pairs of clothes in his locker.
Though it would have been better if the colors weren't so bright and attention-grabbing.
Leaving the bathroom, Eli slung his bag back on his shoulder.
The splash had left the charm in his pocket in tatters. Now, it was completely useless.
It was another bad luck caused by that vengeful ghost.
"Can you check something for me?" Eli asked.
"Sure. Shoot."
"A girl, maybe from theology. Long black hair. Strangled. Possibly pregnant, or a mother already."
Chase tapped his phone. "I'll ask Arvy. Might take her a bit."
"That's fine. Let me know when you are done."
"You have to take me when you send her off," Chase insisted, throwing an arm over his shoulder and tightening it like a noose.
The weight made Eli instantly uncomfortable.
"No," he said, shoving the overgrown man-child off him. "It's not safe."
"'It's not safe,'" Chase mimicked, rolling his eyes. "You always say that. One day I'll get possessed, and you'll have no choice but to exorcise me."
"I'm not a priest. I can't."
Chase scoffed, "Liar."
Eli, in essence, never lied. He simply couldn't. So, he preferred to say fewer things.
However, just because he kept quiet didn't mean the world did.