She kept calling him. For quite a while, actually. But eventually, he appeared. He was sitting at a massive mahogany desk, filling out some kind of paperwork. When he heard her voice, he stopped, set down his pen, and rubbed his tired eyes.

  “How can I help you?” he asked, looking at her with that same cold, emotionless stare.

  “I think I might have a problem,” she said, stepping closer.

  “Is the new consciousness not working out?”

  “It’s better than the last one, but still limited. I’m creating a new one now, but it’s going to take time. You know how tedious the process is. They wear out so quickly.”

  He smiled at that. Oh, he knew. Probably even better than she did.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, brushing a strand of black hair from his face.

  “Keep an eye on her for a while. I need time to prepare the right path, choose the events carefully. It’s not easy.”

  “What stage is she at now?”

  “Draining people’s energy.”

  He laughed quietly but didn’t say a word. She knew he’d agreed. She could count on him. She walked away, confident she’d left her in safe hands.

  College life passed quickly and relatively quietly, thanks less to her knowledge than to her abilities. She rarely attended classes, hardly ever studied for exams. Usually, she’d master a single topic, then walk into the exam room and nudge her power just enough to create a crude, primitive telepathic channel. Through it, she’d transmit the one question she had prepared in advance. She could have done more, could have forced a professor to pass her, but she preferred subtlety. She wasn’t confident enough yet to go all in. She played it smart. Patient. She needed to grow. To master what she’d learned from those three strange spirits. Most of her time went into that. The growing pile of money she’d accumulated allowed her to avoid “real” work. Even if it only covered food and tuition, it was enough. She met people, sure, but there were no real connections. Just faces, names that slipped away. Maybe two or three exceptions. That was all. The wild parties passed her by, but she didn’t mind.

  Then, one day, something changed. Not much, but enough.

  “Hi!”

  A small blonde girl greeted her cheerfully. Alice looked her over, then glanced around to make sure the greeting was actually meant for her.

  “You’re talking to me…”

  It sounded more like a sigh than a question.

  “Of course I’m talking to you!”

  The girl’s enthusiasm seemed boundless. Her tiny frame barely contained it; she bounced from one foot to the other, waving her hands around like an overexcited child.

  “Do you have to pee or something?” Alice asked, irritated that someone had interrupted her reflections on the futility of the human reproductive instinct. “Bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Have a nice day.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Wait up!”

  The blonde grabbed her arm.

  “You’re always sitting alone! Sometimes you talk to someone, but that’s it! I feel so sorry for you, you know?”

  Alice’s irritation spiked, tripling in the span of a second. Another minute of this and she’d reach a state of pure, crystallized hatred.

  “Do you have to yell like that?”

  “Sorry!” the blonde gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth before continuing in a whisper. “Sorry. I just get really loud when I get excited…”

  “Your sex life doesn’t interest me.”

  It came out as a quiet growl, but the girl just giggled in that high-pitched, maddeningly carefree way.

  “No, no! I mean—oh, sorry! I wasn’t talking about sex! I mean, I’m not into that kinda stuff, right? You know, the whole ‘girls liking girls’ thing and all. But hey, no judgment from me. Lesbians can totally be lesbians. I just prefer guys, personally. Anyway, about the… uh, you know…”

  “Fuck off,” Alice said calmly, spinning on her heel and heading for the exit. Too much enthusiasm could actually kill someone, she was sure of it. Stroke-inducing levels.

  “Come on! I was just gonna invite you out for coffee! Jeez, you’re something else!”

  Alice marched down the crowded hallway, doing her best to ignore the blonde tailing her. Not an easy task, given the number of decibels the girl produced while spouting her inane commentary. People watched the scene with amused smirks, which only deepened Alice’s fury. In her mind, she cursed the bouncing little flea behind her in every possible way. Her thoughts turned grotesque: torture chambers, mass executions, poetic punishments for people with too much energy. That led, naturally, to reflections on God Himself. How twisted did He have to be to create her? And how deranged must His sense of humor be to place this creature on her path? What was the point? What was He hoping for? Actually, she didn’t care. Thank God the Not-a-Doctor couldn’t see this. He’d never let her live it down. Wait… What if he could? He was always there when things went wrong. Did he have an alert system? Or just too much free time? The thought was unsettling. Being watched by those cold, calculating eyes… while she slept. While she showered. While she… Okay, that part was kind of hot. But the idea of him watching her on the toilet? Yeah, no thanks.

  She finally reached the front doors, the blonde’s screech still ringing in her ears.

  “God, you walk so fast! Wait up, seriously! Come on!”

  Alice had had enough. More than enough. She stopped, turned sharply, and unleashed everything she had. All the energy coiled inside her surged outward, forming a shimmering shell twice her size, twice her strength. It radiated a frequency meant to terrify. Oh yes, the little idiot would shit herself. She watched, waiting for panic. Nothing happened.

  “Finally! Geez, that was a long run. I’m exhausted!”

  Alice froze, her mind going blank. Why hadn’t it worked? Then she felt it. The pitiful scrap of life force she had left. She was drained. She turned her focus inward. Her barrier was full of holes. Swiss cheese would’ve been sturdier. Thinking through the blonde’s constant chatter was nearly impossible, but she forced her brain to work. And what it told her was horrifying. Someone had eaten her life force.

  “What the fuck do you want from me?” she asked, trying to rebuild even a fragment of her shield.

  “Yeah, coffee! I said I’m sorry! Coffee, right?” The blonde was still chirping. “So? You coming? What’s got you all worked up, huh?”

  “Tomorrow,” Alice growled as she stepped outside. “Today I’ve got more important things to do.”

  The blonde didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. She kept following her until Alice jumped into a cab and slammed the door.

  “Thank God for taxis,” she muttered, resting her head against the window.

  A voice echoed in her mind, dripping with sarcasm.

  “Have I become your new god, girl?”

  She recognized it instantly. No need to think. In her mind’s eye, she saw that grin, those black strands of hair, those cold, dissecting eyes.

  She stumbled into her apartment, dead on her feet. Didn’t bother taking off her shoes, and just collapsed into the armchair. Even the thought of crawling to bed felt impossible. Marcel stood by the window, watching her. Every time something went wrong for Alice, his mood improved dramatically. This time was no different, though he had no clue what exactly had happened.

  “Marcel…” Alice groaned, eyes still shut. “Stop grinning, you bastard. You’re gonna shit yourself in a second.”

  The ghost looked at her with a mixture of amusement and pity. Him? Shit himself from fear? Really? And why exactly? She was in no shape to hurt him. On the contrary, he could feed on her now, absorb enough energy to fully manifest, inflict real, physical pain. He was the stronger one here. He held the power now. It would be a sin not to use it.