Chapter 211: Feeling Spirited (2/2)

Shrugging again, the man started walking. ”Not the worst experience of my life, but I won't be coming back anytime soon.”

After the agent had departed, Mike took a moment to look around the deserted docks once more. Throughout the brief meeting, he'd been detecting a low level hostility from one of the warehouses nearby. However, he'd been completely unable to locate the source. It almost felt as if the building itself was expressing some kind of malicious intent.

Curious, he walked up to it, and found the door secured by a rusted lock. While such a thing wouldn't be much of an impediment to him, he wondered whether it was justified to commit what amounted to breaking and entering just to satisfy an impulse. In the midst of his internal debate, he grabbed the lock intending to test its durability, only to find it crumbling into pieces in his hand.

[Poor craftsmanship? Or is it being this close to the ocean that caused this level of corrosion?]

Examining the building once more, he realized that it was more dilapidated than it neighbors, seemingly abandoned long before the others started suffering from neglect. Between the warped, salt-stained wood, broken windows, and non-existent paint, the difference from the other vacant warehouses was so stark he wondered how he missed it in the first place.

Mike rested his hand against the ancient door, and nearly jumped when it slowly creaked open with the screech of rusty hinges. At the same time, the hostility he'd been feeling suddenly spiked as the whole area was suffused with murderous intent. Had he not become such a ridiculous entity over the last few months, such a feeling would have concerned him. As it was, the sensation just sparked his curiosity.

[...I wonder if ghosts are a real thing in this world...Now that I think about it, Tal mentioned something to that effect before. I wish I'd paid more attention.]

Since the decision had been made for him, he decided to go ahead and investigate. He'd long ago learned that these occasional flashes of impulse often led him to interesting, although not always beneficial, things.

The interior of the warehouse was strangely dark, despite the broken windows letting the early afternoon sunlight in. Not that it caused him any problems thanks to his ring. Still, it was a little unusual to see it in action.

[Is this some kind of magic? It seems a little too subtle to be straight up Darkness Magic. An illusion maybe?]

He'd read about a couple of ways to make illusions through magic, which ranged from simple optical mirages through Light Magic to full-on sensory hijacking through Arcane Magic. He figured there must be others, especially when considering the unique skills acquired by unusual races and monsters, but this didn't quite feel like an illusion either.

Shrugging, he boldly stepped in, and was almost immediately forced to jump forward as a section of the roof caved in, collapsing where he'd been standing a moment before. While the debris wouldn't have done much damage, the timing of the collapse couldn't have been an accident.

[Yeah, definitely something here.]

Mike pressed on, scanning the empty storage section of the building. He'd half expected there to be a bunch of old crates and barrels, but it was actually devoid of anything besides dirt and a few dead leaves. He also noticed that there were no signs of animal life either, which definitely seemed odd.

After briefly looking through a few dust filled offices, he turned his attention to a set of stairs leading to some kind of loft. They were rickety, and judging from the current chain of events, he wouldn't have been surprised if they collapsed as soon as he got halfway up. So, with a blast of wind, he threw himself up onto the second story, completely ignoring them.

As he landed with a slightly smug grin, he could almost sense the entity in the building growing more angry. It therefore didn't come as a surprise when the floorboards underneath him started creaking in a menacing manner, although they stopped when he moved to a more stable part of the loft.

He glanced around and was a little disappointed by how empty the place was. The only thing of interest was a small ladder leading to a hatch, which presumably had been used for maintenance of the roof. It wasn't exactly clear what this section of the building was used for, although Mike suspected additional storage. Perhaps the builders were looking to maximize the available space.

Sighing, he almost started heading back down, when he noticed a strange dark patch on the floorboards in one corner of the loft. Moving closer to investigate, he realized it was discoloration caused by something that soaked into the wood. Glancing up, he didn't see any obvious signs of a hole in the roof directly above, although that didn't rule out the possibility of water being the culprit.

As he squatted down to look a bit more closely, he noticed that the hostility of the building had changed. It no longer seemed angry, and instead felt more flighty, almost as if it was frightened. Whatever was occupying this warehouse, it was clearly centered here and was worried about what he might do.

Reaching down, he cautiously touched the spot with a single finger. It felt cold, and slightly slimy. As he pulled his finger away, he noticed that a few flecks of a black substance stuck to it, evidently the source of the discoloration. The hostility he'd been sensing changed again, this time morphing into something cold, and sightly disturbing. He felt that to go any further would lead to a confrontation of some kind.

While he doubted that something like a spirit inhabiting a rundown warehouse could pose a legitimate threat to him, Mike decided that the didn't want to push things without knowing more. Under ideal circumstances he would have liked to have spent some time trying to interact with the entity. He had a feeling that do so could prove advantageous in some capacity.

However, he had a lot to do over the next few days, and he'd already wasted enough time indulging his curiosity. So, after resolving to come back at a later date, he hopped back down to the first floor and causally left, closing the door behind him. He noticed that the hostility fell to an almost undetectable level as he did.

[I'll add ghosts to my list of things to research when time allows, and I think I'll bring Tal next time, too. She should have a little more luck with this kind of thing.] He thought to himself as he started heading towards the market district. There were still a few errands left to run.

As Mike started walking, he didn't notice a creeping haze of frost develop one of the warehouse's few unbroken windows. He also didn't see a print take shape in it, almost as if something invisible was pressing a hand against the glass from the inside.

A hand with long, spindly fingers that ended in claws.