Phoebe, the Saxon spirit and Connie arrived at the house which she had been assured was haunted. It was a dium sized mansion in the downtown area of the city.
It was in a residential neighborhood that was rather quiet. Phoebe had learned to observe her surroundings when it ca to haunted house affairs. Often tis, one haunted house usually ant an entire haunted area.
Sotis it was because the house was built on top of an old cetery, an old public burial ground, a cursed land where many terrible things had happened and the like. A haunted house was rarely a simple matter.
That's why she charged no less than five hundred thousand to take on such a job. It was because the scope often widened as she went along.
This seed to be an affluent neighborhood, judging by the sizes of the houses and the mostly expensive cars parked along the road. She couldn't sense any dark energy in the imdiate area, which ant there were no malevolent ghosts around.
While she was looking around and observing the surroundings, Connie rung the door bell.
"Who is it?" a voice ca from inside, the house.
"The shaman." Connie answered.
Phoebe touched the back pocket of her jeans and retrieved a gold coin in the shape of a hexagon. There was a picture of a black raven with red eyes on the coin. She poured so of her energy into the coin and threw it up into the sky.
The red eye of the black raven blinked, and the bird ca to life. It flew out of the coin and the coin fell back into Phoebe's hand.
The raven flew down and landed on Phoebe's shoulder in a comfortable move, one that it had done many tis. She moved her right hand and rubbed the head of the bird in an affectionate manner.
"Go, Yin, find what's hiding here." she instructed the raven.
The bird opened its wings and flew away, going over the house directly.
"Using the bird takes up half of your energy. Do not do things like this if they are not necessary. Look, even the days you have left to live have reduced." The Saxon spirit reminded her in a disapproving tone.
Phoebe didn't look at the diamond shaped mark to see how many days she had left. This was the nature of her life and business now, so she couldn't help it.
"I can't sense any ghosts, can you?" she retorted.
The front door was opened by a maid in a blue dress who looked out curiously. She had never seen a shaman like Phoebe before__, one who was dressed in jeans and a small tight white shirt with white sneakers on her feet.
She looked no different from a young woman of university going age that was about to go on a date or grab lunch with her friends.
Figuring that Phoebe couldn't possibly be the shaman, the maid moved her head from side to side, in search of an older man or woman in long robes with beads, or a staff. She conjured up images of different ghost fighting masters she had seen in movies and none of them looked like Phoebe.
On seeing nobody else, she looked at Phoebe.
"Are you the shaman?" she asked uncertainly.
"Yes." Phoebe answered.
Connie chuckled and said, "Sister, this is why i told you to dress like a monk or sothing. People think you are normal when you look like this."
The maid heard Connie's voice and she scread. She turned and run back into the house.
Phoebe on the other hand was surprised to hear Connie calling her sister. By learning the girl's na, the girl had beco attached and slowly, she too would be the sa. What would they do when ti to part ways ca?
Sighing internally, she walked into the house, following the path that the maid had taken. She found her way to the living room where a scared maid was explaining to her boss who was at the door.
When the maid saw Phoebe, she turned and run again.
Phoebe didn't dwell on that and she looked instead at the people sitting in the living room. It was a couple, a man and a woman who had gloomy looks on their faces.
She raised her hand and waved at them.
"Hello, you called for a shaman."
"Or an exterminator." Connie chid in.
The woman gasped at the second voice which seed to be coming out of nowhere as it's owner was invisible. She scooted over, distancing herself from Phoebe.
Phoebe glared at Connie anwhile before turning back to the couple.
"That's my assistant who talks too much. But, i don't know why you would be so frightened of her when you apparently have ghosts in this house and yet you are still living here." she finished off unsurely.
Even her voice was light at the end because she still hadn't managed to sense any ghosts.
"You are the ghost seeing lady." the man spoke up slowly.
Phoebe nodded.
The man's eyes moved over her, trailing from head to toe as he studied Phoebe.
The wife turned to the husband and said in an outraged voice, "She can't be a shaman, she is young."
She had forgotten that only a few seconds ago, she had heard an invisible ghost talking and Phoebe had said that was her assistant.
"I don't think you can help us, you don't look like you have any experience. We thought you were an older experienced...."
"My physical appearance has nothing to do with my talents." Phoebe cut in and said quickly.
The couple would not be the first to doubt her abilities basing on age, appearance and other personal prejudices. There were many people like that in society.
Phoebe's mother was the type to ask for a middle aged doctor when she visited the hospital because they were not too young to be inexperienced and not too old to have mory problems and shaky hands.
To further prove her abilities, she looked at the couple with seriousness and her whole deanor changed. Her red hair suddenly flew up as if a fan was blowing hair through it.
This was actually almost the case because the Saxon ancestor was the one blowing Phoebe's hair to lend her and appearance of an otherworldly master.
"You are Georgina Elroy, forty eight years old, born in Magic city on 9th April I9** at night. You are the third daughter of your parents, your second brother died last year from a drug overdose but your family tells everyone he died in his sleep.
You are allergic to diary products but this doesn't stop you from sneaking a bite of ice cream every once in a while, cheesecake flavor is your favorite.
The ring on your hand is not the wedding ring your husband gave you on the day he married you which is 16th December 20**. You lost the original one on a cruise ship two years ago when you were dancing how low can you go.
You have a scar on your inner wrist which you tell everyone was a result of your sister scratching you but you lied, you scratched yourself to get back at her for....."
"Stop, stop!" the woman yelled desperately.
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