When Kira woke the next day, she was more than vaguely uncomfortable. She blinked her eyes blearily, sitting up and wincing as her body groaned in protest. She realized somewhat belatedly that she had fallen asleep while reading through the Orlando diary, and as a result was slumped awkwardly on the couch.
"Good morning," Hercules said abruptly, and she jolted in surprise. She turned to face him, trying to soothe the pounding in her heart. He considered her with a casual smile as if waking up with a ghost in your house was the most natural thing in the world. She mused that she had done well not to shriek upon seeing a man in her usually empty apartment, let alone a ghost man. She shook off these thoughts, the pounding in her heart abating slightly. Hercules leaned in closer, examining her somewhat sickly looking expression. "Are you quite alright?" He inquired with a faint smirk, and she narrowed her eyes in slight irritation. He seemed all too entertained by her brief moment of fear, but when his eyes softened, and he reached out to gently touch her cheek, her aggravation faded.
“Sorry. Just… not used to company. Especially not the spectral sort,” she chuckled. He considered her with a tilt of his head that she found nothing short of adorable, seeming to consider his words before speaking.
“I’m surprised you don’t entertain… guests, often,” he said haltingly. She watched him with a quirked brow for a moment, seeming to process his words.
“You mean, you’re surprised I don’t sleep around?” She said, though her tone made it obvious she was teasing. Much to her surprise, it seemed that even ghosts could blush. His translucent cheeks were tinged slightly red, and she barked out an amused laugh.
“I did not mean to imply,” he began, but she shook her head as she continued to chuckle, waving him off entirely.
"It's fine, honey. I'm just having a bit of fun with you," she smiled, turning her attention to the diary that still lay open on the coffee table in front of her. It took a moment, but what she had read the night previous soon washed over her once more. However, she realized with some disappointment that she had yet to find anything pertinent as of yet. Hercules seemed to notice her enervated demeanor and wrapped a warm arm around her shoulder.
“I suppose your readings weren’t as productive as you would have liked,” he murmured, and she breathed a sigh in response.
“It’s just…,” she trailed off for a moment, not wanting to reveal the difficulty she was having. Truth be told, she could have likely scoured the entire book in a few hours, but something was holding her back. “I’m a slow reader,” she lied, and Hercules smiled good-naturedly.
"That's quite alright. Never been much of a literary enthusiast, myself," he rumbled, drawing away from her and looking at the scrawled writing in the book. "It's altogether illegible, in my eyes. I'm surprised you're able to make anything out at all," he added as an afterthought, making to flip through the pages. As he reached out to the book, the table began to shake, and the book rose up several inches. A loud screeching sound permeated the entire apartment, and Kira's eyes widened in a panic. The book snapped shut, and as Hercules drew his hand away, they could make out a voice amongst the screeching. Kira could just barely make out the words ‘the cursed one' before the screeching abruptly halted. The diary flew off of the table, hitting the wall opposite them with a dull thud.
“Lord,” Kira blurted, watching the book with something akin to fear in her eyes.
"I did not expect such a reaction," Hercules admitted, drawing his hands towards himself. After a moment of silence, Kira rose from the sofa to approach the fallen diary. As she picked it up, the book fell open to a page that seemed to be written in some sort of red ink. She squinted at the diary, struggling to make out the words. She couldn't make out the language the words were written in, however, a stark difference from the rest of the diary which was written in plain English.
“This is strange,” she murmured, touching her fingertips to the page. The ink still felt almost damp, as if the words had been freshly written. Fortunately, however, they did not smudge beneath her touch. “Honestly, Hercules, this looks like some kind of freaky cult stuff. What was your family involved in?” She inquired shakily, placing the diary back on the coffee table. She seemed relieved to put it down for the time being, though she knew she would have to resume her studies at some point. Hercules glanced at her with a tight-lipped frown, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“My family would never be involved in the occult. That’s absurd,” he said icily. Kira narrowed his eyes towards him, and he shrunk away. “At least, I would have thought it absurd, had I not seen it with my own eyes,” he admitted reluctantly, looking at the diary with uncertainty in his gaze. “Do you recognize the language those pages are written in?” He inquired softly. She hesitated for a long moment before shaking her head.
“I don’t. But I know someone who might,” she said reluctantly. Hercules tilted his head curiously, and Kira breathed a sigh of obvious irritation. “My auntie, she considers herself much more in touch with her… roots. Voodoo, mysticism, that sort of junk. I’d never put a lot of stock in it. I thought the things I read in my books were just stories, not rooted in truth. But… well. You put a wrench in that thought process,” she admitted.
“If you are uncomfortable seeing her,” Hercules began, but she was swift to cut him off.
“I suppose it’s only right I give her a chance, especially if she might be able to help us with all this,” she muttered. He nodded mutely, fidgeting as she picked up the diary, marking the page that it had flipped open to. She closed it carefully, the sounds of shrieking still resonating in her head. “I’ll get dressed, and then we can go. But I must warn you, my auntie may seem a little strange. Even to a ghost...”