The following morning, the team regrouped at the Hub to discuss the outcome of the previous night's confrontation. The mood was understandingly subdued. Arven had arranged for their police contact, Andy, to "discover" Tom's body and instigate funeral proceedings. It was horribly straightforward: Tom had no living family, and the cause of death was attributed to exposure during the night's storm. Disturbingly routine, thought Arven. It shouldn't be routine to hide a murder. Another soul he had failed to save. But, he couldn't dwell on that now, the rest of the city was still in danger.
"So, the facts to date." Arven announced to the assembled group. "This Banshee is an alien lifeform. Nothing unusual there. She feeds on emotional energy, somehow filling a victims mind with their deepest, primal fears and letting the subconscious do the rest. Highly efficient actually, expend a little to gain a lot. Exponential output. In a way, it's almost like Nuclear Fusion."
"So, what about this grand plan of hers, how does she intend to spread terror across the city?" asked David. "Well" replied Sue, "I think she's doing it already. Is it just me, or has everything seemed a little oppressive this week? Nobody on the streets seems to smile, everyone seems dour, and the weather's been shit!"
"Conjecture and coincidence surely!" exclaimed Dave. "You can't seriously think she can influence the weather! No, be reasonable, there must be some group, or congregation she hopes to feed on for her grand reckoning"
"Oh no." Susan whispered, whipping out her phone. A few brief thumb swishes later, she had found it. Holding her phone out so the others could see, she announced "Tonight, Capital of Culture celebrations kick off with an open air jazz festival. That seems the most obvious candidate. Thousands of people in the streets, unable to flee when things go south." "Now, we just need some way to fight her!"
"Good work, Sue!" said Arven, flashing her a cheeky smirk. "However, here's what I still don't get. She claims her race is the origin of the Banshee myth. But most Irish mythology depicts the Banshee as a hauntingly beautiful creature, not like the filthy hag who tried to kill me!"
"I have an idea about that, boss.", David interjected as he stood up. "And if I'm right, it could be a way to defeat her. Ever heard of the expression You are what you eat?"
That evening, the people of Cork flocked to the streets in their thousands. Determined to have a good time, despite the freezing rain billowing around them in tumultuous gusts. And, despite a nagging feeling of dread that no one spoke of, like an echo of a forgotten nightmare was dancing around their minds. A dull sadness which could not be articulated, like the feeling of losing that which never actually existed. The people gathered, unknowingly resolute again the invisible shadow draping around them.
The Banshee, for her part, was observing the insignificant creatures gathering close together, huddling for warmth and comfort. Pitiful, like a raft of ants facing a typhoon. She licked her dry, cracked lips. She rather enjoyed being the typhoon. As the crowds grew, she began to feel it. The vestiges of a hive mind, the mob mentality which causes a group to act together, and not as individuals. Humans are a strange species, she mused. A low level telepathic field existed in the human mind, nowhere near strong enough for actual telekinesis or mind reading, just strong enough to convey a feeling, or a mood to others around them. Humans tried to rationalise this as "Non verbal cues", or "people skills". In actual fact, empathy is merely an additional sense. Empathy was something she could use. Humans, in large groups, can seemingly spread emotions to each other. "Mass hysteria", they called it. She flexed her bony, decrepit fingers, feeling the centuries of negative energy she had stolen well up inside her. "Time for my finest hour!" she cackled, letting the energy seep from her. With a subtle gesture, she began to weave this power, into a dark, voidlike cloth to drape over the congregation. And began to pull it tighter.
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