CHAPTER ONE
The forest didn't want them there.
Branches snapped like brittle bones under Neil's boots as he tore through the undergrowth, breath sharp and uneven in the cold night air. Behind him, something wailed — not just a scream, but a raw, soul-scraping shriek that made the trees quiver and his stomach twist.
The banshee was close. Too close.
"Baphi," Neil hissed between gasps, dodging a low branch. "Please tell me you didn't actually eat it."
A small, wiry black cat leapt effortlessly onto a fallen log beside him, keeping pace without a hint of exhaustion. His tail flicked lazily, as though they weren't running for their lives.
"I didn't eat all of it," Baphi replied, voice calm and infuriatingly casual. "Just the stopper. It looked chewy."
Neil's eyes widened. "The stopper—Baphi, that was the binding seal!"
"Yes," the cat said, blinking slowly, "and now it's… in me. Safer that way, don't you think?"
A second wail shredded through the night, closer this time. The forest air itself seemed to vibrate, sending shivers crawling up Neil's neck.
"Safer?" Neil snapped. "She's trying to rip our souls out because you got peckish!"
The cat gave a low, rumbling purr that passed for a chuckle. "You're welcome, by the way. If I hadn't distracted her, she'd have turned you into confetti by now."
They burst through a thicket into a narrow clearing, moonlight spilling onto wet grass. Neil skidded to a stop, boots digging in, and spun around. His trench coat flared like a shadow.
Through the trees, the banshee emerged.
She was pale, stretched thin as smoke, with tangled black hair whipping around her in an invisible storm. Her jaw hung too wide, her mouth a black cavern leaking mist. Her eyes were pits of silver fire. She floated just above the ground, her tattered dress billowing like underwater fabric.
Neil muttered under his breath, "Fantastic. She's fully manifested."
Baphi hopped onto a mossy rock and sat, tail wrapped neatly around his paws, as if observing a mildly interesting play.
Neil dug into his coat and pulled out a charm inscribed with faded runes. He thumbed the sigils, feeling the faint pulse of dormant magic. It wasn't strong, but it would have to do.
"You've got thirty seconds before I cough this thing up," Baphi said.
Neil threw him a glare. "Try ten."
The banshee's scream built like a storm surge, her form flickering and snapping between corporeal and mist. Neil planted his feet, drew a deep breath, and shouted, "Verbindis anima!"
The charm glowed faintly, a weak circle etching itself into the damp earth.
The banshee didn't slow down.
She lunged forward, claws like splinters of bone outstretched, mouth open in a sound that shattered birds from the trees.
Neil dove aside just in time, rolling through wet leaves. The charm circle sputtered like a dying candle.
"You call that binding?" Baphi called out. "I've seen toddlers do better circles in mud."
"Then maybe help," Neil barked, yanking himself up.
The cat sighed dramatically. "Fine. But only because I enjoy not dying."
Baphi's eyes glowed faint red, faint enough to pass for a trick of the moonlight. The air around the banshee wavered. She paused mid-lunge, just slightly, as if some invisible net tugged at her edges.
Neil used the brief opening to slam a second charm against a tree trunk. It burst into a vertical flare, revealing a rune like a jagged sun.
The banshee hissed, retreating just an inch.
"Yeah, that's right," Neil muttered, stepping forward slowly. "Back off, lady. We can do this the easy way or the—"
She screeched again, cutting him off.
Neil winced. "Of course, the hard way."
---
They'd been chasing this one for three days, zigzagging through backwater towns in southern Oregon. She wasn't like the usual possessions he dealt with. No human host, no body to anchor her to. Just a wandering, furious spirit tied to a forest older than the county itself.
Normally, he'd seal her with a wooden talisman and an incantation. Simple. Clean.
But then Baphi ate the damn seal.
---
"Neil," Baphi said, voice suddenly sharp. "She's pulling from the leyline. If she finishes—"
"I know," Neil cut in, already pulling another charm from his belt. This one was cracked, barely functional. His supplies were running low.
The banshee's mist thickened, swirling toward the ground like tendrils of ink in water. The air tasted metallic, heavy with old magic.
Neil clenched his jaw. This was going to be messy.
"Alright," he whispered, mostly to himself. "Let's end this before sunrise."
He sprinted forward, boots splashing through mud, and slammed the cracked charm into the ground just as the banshee surged. A flash of light exploded upward, momentarily blinding.
The banshee shrieked in pain, her form snapping wildly like static.
"Now!" Neil shouted.
Baphi rolled his eyes, hopped down, and padded toward the glowing circle. He gagged dramatically, then spat out the soggy, half-digested wooden stopper with a wet plop right into the circle.
"Ew," Neil muttered.
"Don't complain," Baphi replied primly. "That's craftsmanship."
The rune-flare around the stopper pulsed. For a moment, Neil thought it might actually work.
Then the banshee's arm lashed out like a whip and smashed into him, throwing him against a tree.
Neil hit the bark with a grunt. His vision blurred for a second.
"Neil!" Baphi yowled — actually yowled — and a burst of crimson energy erupted around the cat like a heatwave.
The banshee froze mid-attack, caught off guard.
Neil coughed, spat blood, and forced himself upright. "Alright," he rasped. "New plan. We wing it."
Baphi gave a humorless laugh. "Oh, excellent. Your favorite kind of plan."
---
The battle wasn't elegant. It never was with Neil.
He didn't have the flashiest powers, nor the cleanest techniques. What he had was stubbornness, a decent aim, and a demon cat with questionable ethics but unwavering loyalty.
And sometimes, that was enough.
The banshee lunged again, her form unraveling into streaks of pale mist that twisted around tree trunks like ghostly ribbons. Neil ducked low, sliding across the wet ground and narrowly avoiding a swipe that would've taken his head clean off.
"Baphi!" he barked, fumbling for the last intact charm on his belt.
"I'm a little busy not dying, thank you!" Baphi snapped, darting between the banshee's trailing mist and swiping at her with his claws. Each strike left faint ember-like marks on the specter's body, slowing her movement.
Neil slammed the charm against the muddy earth, his fingers moving in practiced, almost tired motions as he traced the incantation circle. The symbols glowed weakly at first, then flared brighter as his own energy flowed through them.
He wasn't a natural-born exorcist. He didn't come from some long line of holy men. His power was something else—something that came from a night he didn't talk about. But right now, there wasn't time to dwell on that.
The banshee let out another shriek, loud enough to make Neil's ears ring. She swooped low, her claws grazing his shoulder and tearing through the fabric of his coat. Pain flared hot, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through it.
"Keep her in the circle!" he shouted.
Baphi rolled his eyes but did as told. The cat darted across the ground, trailing faint demonic energy that formed temporary barriers, herding the banshee toward the glowing circle.
Neil whispered the final binding phrase under his breath. The air thickened, charged with unseen weight. The symbols flared—brighter, sharper—and the ground itself seemed to hum.
The banshee entered the circle. For a heartbeat, everything froze.
Then the trap sprung.
The runes shot upward like pillars of light, encasing the banshee in a cage of raw energy. She screamed, thrashing violently, her voice echoing through the forest like some hellish choir.
Neil stepped forward, wiping mud from his face. "I warned you," he muttered.
Baphi hopped onto a stump beside him, tail flicking. "She's a screamer, huh?"
"Shut up," Neil sighed.
The banshee writhed, slamming herself against the magical cage, but every attempt only made the runes flare hotter. She was weakening, unraveling piece by piece.
Neil raised his hand, palm glowing faintly with a soft golden light—a remnant of the power that had chosen him years ago. He pressed it against the air, directing it toward the banshee.
"Return to the stillness from which you came," he said quietly.
The words weren't just speech—they were command. The banshee's scream faltered, her form convulsing violently before bursting into a mist that scattered like ash in a gust of wind.
Silence followed.
The forest, which had felt tight and suffocating, slowly exhaled. Leaves rustled. The wind returned. Crickets resumed their nocturnal chorus.
Neil lowered his hand, breathing heavily. His shoulder throbbed, his clothes were soaked, and he was fairly certain there was mud in his boots.
Baphi stretched lazily, yawning as if they hadn't just nearly died. "Well," the cat said, "that was invigorating. Breakfast?"
Neil shot him a look. "You ate the seal."
Baphi shrugged—or the feline equivalent of it. "Technically, I borrowed it."
"You're a menace," Neil muttered, dragging himself toward a fallen log to sit down.
"I prefer 'indispensable companion,'" Baphi replied, hopping gracefully onto Neil's knee and curling up like he hadn't just helped banish a banshee.
Neil stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "One day, you're going to get us both killed."
The cat opened one eye. "Probably. But not today."
---
They sat there for a while, letting the night settle back into something almost peaceful. For anyone else, this would've been a horrifying experience worth a lifetime of therapy. For Neil, it was Tuesday.
He pulled a flask from his coat, took a swig of lukewarm coffee, and leaned back against the log. His mind wandered despite himself.
He didn't like forests. Too quiet. Too many shadows that reminded him of another night, years ago, when everything had changed.
He pushed the thought away.
---
By the time they reached the van parked at the edge of the dirt road, dawn was creeping over the horizon. The sky was a pale wash of pink and grey. Neil opened the driver's door, threw his coat onto the seat, and started the engine. It coughed once before rumbling awake.
Baphi jumped into the passenger seat and immediately began licking his paw like he owned the place.
Neil glanced at him. "You know, most people would find it weird that my partner in exorcisms is a talking cat."
"Most people don't live long enough to find out," Baphi replied, not looking up.
Neil shook his head with a tired smirk and pulled onto the road.
---
They drove in silence for a few miles. Oregon's woods rolled past on either side, mist clinging to the trees like pale fingers.
Finally, Baphi broke the silence. "You felt that, didn't you?"
Neil kept his eyes on the road. "Yeah."
The banshee's presence hadn't been the only thing in that forest. There'd been something else. Faint, distant, but real. Like a ripple passing through still water.
Baphi's tail swished slowly. "It's getting louder. The disturbances. More frequent."
"I know," Neil muttered.
"And we're still pretending we're just doing odd jobs for scared townsfolk?"
Neil didn't answer.
Baphi let out a small sigh, curling up tighter. "Fine. Be mysterious. But it's coming whether you're ready or not."
Neil gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Yeah," he said softly. "I know."
---
As the van disappeared down the empty road, the camera of the world might've panned back to the forest. There, where the banshee had been banished, the ground pulsed faintly once.
Something was stirring beneath the surface.
And Neil — tired, stubborn Neil with his demon cat and fractured magic — was going to be right in the middle of it.