So this is set in the same universe than my 11th PAWW, with a tweak to connect the stories together. You know how I love Jay, I’ve been using him in two or three stories so far, and I might be planning to include him in another story, who knows..?
Investigator Atlas Whitefield was a smart man, or he believed so at least. He had a straight mind and liked to see the logic in everything. When he received a call asking him to go check a haunted house, he’d scoffed in disbelief. Ghosts were a myth told to children so they could behave, a belief that grew in proportion once adults spread it. He accepted to go only to lift those rumours and shake some senses in the woman who’d made the complaint.
The woman actually refused to accompany him inside the house, and Atlas wasted no time in trying to convince her either. He planned on returning home as early as possible to enjoy his usual beer.
The house itself looked the same than any other abandoned house; vandalized, dusty and infested by rats and other varmints. Rabid animals had eaten its wood, its foundations, and it squeaked with each of his footsteps through the rooms. There was no furniture, blank walls filled with vulgar messages of all kinds, but the further he adventured himself, the fewer messages he saw. He walked upstairs without any traces of paranormal activity, but despite himself, he began to become more nervous. The tension around him was becoming less bearable by the second, but he kept on, resolute on seeing this through. A warning had been written on the wall, claiming to keep out and to not touch anything, but Atlas dismissed it.
There was one room still intact, to Atlas’ surprise. The furniture had been left alone, with the paintings and the linens still on the bed. That was odd. The investigator walked in the room and frowned at the lack of dust. What was going on here? There were a few photographs on the dresser, showing a happy family, except for one. Atlas took the frame, asking himself who would immortalize such a sad moment, a man crying at the camera.
Deciding he’d had enough, Atlas turned around to get out of the house, only to come face to face with a man who wasn’t previously there.
“Wha-?”
“You shouldn’t have come here.” He was coming closer, which wasn’t something Atlas specifically liked. He stepped back.
“Are you the one who has been making the noise?”
The man smirked. “And then some.” For a second, his whole form shivered, like a mirror, but it happened so fast Atlas wasn’t sure it really happened. “The old woman wasn’t wrong about everything.”
“What is true then?” Atlas couldn’t help but ask. He wasn’t afraid, he had dealt with worse before. The man pointed the photo still in his hand.
“You thought this was a good idea to wander here, despite the warnings?”
The man’s face changed, became more sinister and inhuman. Atlas began to feel cold, but a cold that chilled him through his bones. He tried to pry the photograph from his fingers, without success. They wouldn’t budge, as his feet it would seem.
“Keep the photo, but in 21 days…” The ghost’s smile widened impossibly so. “I’ll come get the both of you.”
His cellphone light turned off. Atlas cursed, fidgeting to find the small flashlight he kept to his key ring. When he managed to turn it on, there was no one with him anymore. The room was empty.
At first he thought fungus in the decrepit house had made him hallucinate, or the woman had drugged him somehow, but deep down he knew it couldn’t be possible. He’d felt fine up until that odd room and the meeting with the man. Returning on his steps had proved the only traces in the dust were his. No one had been there with him.
It wasn’t until late that night that he retrieved the photo from one of his coat inner pockets. It hadn’t changed, but looked frightening to him, and he couldn’t continue looking at it without feeling uncomfortable. For a week he kept it stashed in the living room of his apartment, underneath a pile of papers he kept there with the excuse he would put them in order, which he never did.
He also noticed weird activities happening around him. Objects being moved, doors closing or opening for no reason, and an overwhelming presence at all times, especially when he was alone at night. Atlas refused to be threatened by it, but he knew it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t logical either, but he was living those events, and he had to act.
He was an investigator, solving this kind of cases was his job, so he set himself to work. He searched about the house’s history and discovered nothing really interesting, except for one of the ex-proprietors. He’d been known for his weird habits: making noise at random times, gathering unexpected collections, having weird visitors in the middle of the night. They believed he had been part of a sect, but one day he disappeared without leaving any traces, and the house had been abandoned when a rumour began to spread about it being haunted. That was a little over three decades ago.
He didn’t know how to bring this to attention to his coworkers, it was something he himself wouldn’t have believed if he’d been told, so there was no way he could talk about him being cursed without any proof. He needed help, but he’d receive none from the police.
So he did like anyone else in his situation would do. He did a Google search. There were not that many clairvoyants in town, which was surprising, but some actually had reviews on them. Atlas felt like things were already crumbling around him, so he didn’t feel any more stupid to choose one at random, without taking the time to analyze each of them.
Jay Minds You had a nice ring anyway, and he was slowly falling in the desperate case. The shop looked everything like he thought it would look like. Dark and filled with odd objects Atlas didn’t even try to comprehend. The paintings were nice, however.
“Hi,” someone said behind Atlas, and he turned around to meet the clairvoyant, who wasn’t what Atlas had expected. Such vivid green eyes, his face a set of beautiful features he couldn’t deny.
“You’re James Atkins, right?” Atlas approached the shorter man.
“Jay’s fine. What can I do for you?”
“What is it that you do exactly?” Atlas asked, not trying to be rude, but he wanted to know. All these decorations were nice, but they didn’t prove Jay’s talents.
“It depends of what you want.” The investigator tried very hard not to think about what he’d like to do to him, his neck warming up at the escaping ideas. “I can read your palm or tarots, but I usually simply need to touch your hand to look for the answers you’re seeking.”
It didn’t help that Jay smiled at him, seductive without meaning to be so. “For now I know your name is Atlas, like the god who supported Earth on his shoulders.” He invited him to sit at the table with the weird symbols, where a feisty cat was sleeping. She jumped down and ran away with a glare.
Atlas ignored it in order to focus on Jay, as if he could look anywhere else at that moment. He was a very attractive man. He asked about the marks on the table to distract himself, but the passion in his voice did nothing but charm him even further.
When Jay asked to take his hand, he didn’t hesitate. It was almost too warm, leaving Atlas’ tingling pleasantly. The contact lasted half a minute at most.
“You’re a cop.”
“An investigator, yes.”
“You need my help to solve your case.”
“Yes.”
Jay gestured to his suitcase. “Show me, and tell me I won’t have to prove myself to your colleagues, however.”
“I doubt I could convince them myself of what I’m about to show you.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” Jay smiled at Atlas, his eyes kind, and some of the tension in his shoulders released. He exhaled slowly as he took his suitcase and put it on the table before him. Looking at the photograph one more time was difficult, but he strained his eyes on the details one more time before he turned it and showed it to Jay.
“This photo is cursed.”
Jay frowned, then sighed. The cat came back towards them and jumped on his lap. He idly began to stroke it. “The spirit connected to it is not in a good mood.” While saying that, he was looking above him, and Atlas swiftly got on his feet.
“Is he here with us?”
Jay nodded. “You’re keeping a close eye on Atlas, aren’t you?” Atlas gulped, disliking where this was going.
Anyone entering would have thought Jay to be crazy, for he began to have a conversation with what seemed to be himself. The atmosphere, warm and cozy so far, quickly became heavier, and he shivered despite his thick wool shirt.
Jay didn’t seem to come to a deal with the ghost, and he turned green eyes back at him, irritated.
“I know what we’ll do. With his name, would you be able to find where he was buried?”
“I could indeed.” Atlas frowned. “What do you want to do to his grave?”
Jay smirked, a determined look on his face. “We’re going to burn his bones.”
Conatus 
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