Carbon Foorprint IV

●●●5 Minutes Earlier●●●

Gazing at the heavy blossom heaving up and down like a sultry roller coaster, Irwin could not help but question his belief in the existence of Paradise in Heaven.

'Because if tits like that exist on Earth, then why yearn for Heaven?' Licking his lips in delighted exuberance, Irwin dove in once more, eliciting giggles from a clearly cheered-up Allison. "I don't think I can do it six times in a row."

She caressed his hair as he went down on her, smelling his thick, luscious hair. "Oh, please! With these muscles, I doubt a three minutes workout would be trouble for you."

He guffawed, gazing deep within her eyes, "Oh, you're on!"

Before he could continue his act, Irwin felt the weightlessness that took him off his feet before crashing down the floor unceremoniously.

"Man, I may have rocked your world too much." She clenched her fist and pounded it on his head as a reply to his jest.

"That's not normal turbulence." She said, hastily donning her uniform.

"Alright. You should check it out." Irwin scratched the top of his head, chuckling at his earlier joke.

"W-why me?" Allison said in disbelief.

"Because you work here." He pointed.

"And you're the man. Shouldn't you be protecting me?" She countered.

"You just regressed woman rights by about 10 years, babe." He jape once more, earning another knuckle to the head.

"Just go!" She gave Irwin his belt and kicked her out of the booth.

Irwin bent his back as he scanned the entire cabin, noticing the panicking escort and, if he's guessing it correctly, a congressman running for the next senatorial race having a mini heart attack. But he paid them no heed. What he was more worried about was that unusual turbulence and the lack of Gordon in his booth.

Fortunately, he had the good idea of stowing some hex bags in his carry-on baggage: Two bags for Fire Whip and one for Mind Guardian. 

Locked and loaded, he strode forward cautiously, walking past the other passenger in distress.

"S-Sir, please help. I think he's having a heart attack." The woman requested for help, holding the congressman in place as he spasm on his seat.

Irwin held out for a second, before putting his hand on the congressman's chest, feeling out the beat of heart. One of the very useful skills of having enhanced senses, he figured over the past month, was freaking people out over his enhanced senses.

He concentrated on his tactile sense, feeling the groves of the skin and the pulse of heart. The beat itself was fine, less than the going heart rate of a heart attack victim. He gazed at his patient, noticing the minute black lines on his neck.

Irwin removed his collar and noticed the black lines enveloping his entire neck. "Oh, he's not having a heart attack. He's being strangled by a ghost."

With a grin on his face, Irwin nonchalantly walked towards the galley, sneaked some cold cuts in his mouth and grabbed some salt shaker, before walking back to the congressman. He forcefully opened the man's mouth and dumped the whole of the shaker inside of it.

Before either of the two could express their gratitude or admonish Irwin, the plane jutted out of the airstream once more. Though Irwin had experienced it earlier and had the time to grab hold of something, the jarring movements of the plane still forced him to his knees.

Irwin could hear screams from up above, so he cut his greeting with the congressman short and ran towards the danger.

"What the hell happened to me?" He heard the congressman ask.

"I-I don't know. That guy said you were possessed and poured salt on you." The woman replied. "Who are you, mister?"

Irwin heard her scream and turned back just as he stepped into the flight of stairs. "I'm just a simple hunter, ma'am. A simple hunter."

●●●Present, Outside Of The Cockpit●●●

Dante pounded his fist on the cockpit door while Miss Mary entered her security code on the keypad next to the door. 

"It's not working!" She yelled, earning the attention of the already horrified nearby passengers. "What do we do?"

Gordon, who was still reeling from the aftereffects of the last turbulence, grunted in acknowledgement. "Just... do what you can, Mary. Dante, grab all the iron and salt in the plane as fast as you can."

He went to work. First, he grabbed both the mother and the grandmother and placed them inside the lavatory, taking out a metal pin he kept on his shoes to pinch the door to lock on the inside. With two susceptible vessels away from him, he set about rebuilding his makeshift ritual.

Fortunately, he had latched the baby with cloth so it had not been affected by turbulence. Returning the water and mojo bag back into the bowl, Gordon resumed the Rite.

"Domine Jesu, hunc parvulum amanter suscipe; eum benedicite et sumite ad Patrem vestrum. Hoc in spe petimus et oramus..."

As he ran through the rite, a dull BANG! resounded in front of him. He braced for another attack but found not a ghost nor a possessed passenger.

Irwin had smashed through the door of the stairway, revealing his half-naked form. 

"Gordon, what the hell's happening?" His gaze clocking in the destroyed galley and the blood trail leading up the lavatory. "Ghost?"

"Baby ghost!" Gordon nodded. "I'm doing a rite to remind it that it's dead."

"But it's too strong for a new ghost." Irwin was confused. 'So, that rules out normal ghosts. Maybe the powerful emotions after its death affected it? No, a few dozen people being sad ain't worth much in the short run. Something else affected it, something powerful.'

As Irwin ran his mind to deduce the ghost's mysterious origins, his feet never stopped until it was near the door of the cockpit.

"What are we doing here? Is it locked?" He asked, gripping a hex bag in his dominant hand as he scanned the door. After 9/11, commercial airliners reinforced their doors to withstand small caliber bullets and hand grenade, meaning no normal highjackers could tear apart this door within the time of which they began their operation until the cops arrests them.

"Yeah, we heard shouting before the turbulence, but nothing ever since." She replied frantically. "I've been pressing the emergency code, but I still need the pilot to open it from the inside."

"Alright. Just open the door. That's easy enough." Irwin gave a nervous smile. Even he wasn't sure if his truck was going to work. "Here we--"

The plane shuddered once more, sending passengers and baggages into the air alike. The passengers, now more aware of their situation, braced themselves as they landed roughly in their seats.

Irwin steadied himself and infused his magik into his arms, caring not if other people knew of his ability. "Flagello!"

With a sickening THWIP!, azure flames appeared in his hands that soon coiled around his arms. The electrifying appearance of the flaming whip terrified Mary, but he deigned not to get distracted lest the entire plane crashed before he could get in.

He reared his flaming arms, using all his stamina to intensify the spell's power as he pinpointed the most effective point to which he could dislodge the door. By sheer reflex, Irwin yelled as he punched at the door, "Brimstone Blow!"

As the fist whizzed through the air, the flames, as if in one mind with its caster, fully enveloped his hands and sharpened his knuckles into a blazing blade. The reinforced metal melted against the concentrated fire, allowing his mighty fist to blow through the melted alloy and pierce through a hole in the door.

Irwin disregarded the bemused and weird reactions from the crowd as he followed his punch with a kick, launching the metal door open and revealing the bloodied form of both pilots.

He rushed in first, reminding Mary to hide behind him. Almost immediately he could smell the rank odor of burning plastic slinking through wet tar. 'Ectoplasm!'

Cautiously approaching the pilot, Irwin could now clearly see the black line across both of their necks. Blood trailed out of their visible orifices.

'Not just blood,' He traced the fluid trailing down Lewis' cheeks, "Is this cum?"

"That's amniotic fluid." Mary corrected, terrified beyond further words.

'So it's a baby ghost who's so powerful it could kill within minutes.' Irwin scrunched his nose, calming his mind as fear would soon overtake it. After all, they had more pressing matters at hand.

The altimeter has been trickling down south below 25,000 feet and still dropping. "Do you know how-"

"Mikey..." whispered weakly by a barely living Henry.

"H-Henry!" Mary barged past Irwin as she kneeled down beside her friend, tears freely flowing down her crimson eyes. "Oh, god! Please, please, live..."

Irwin took his eyes off the scene and scanned the control panel. Mind racing on how to prevent further turbulence, Irwin scanned for an autopilot button but found none; so he found the next best thing.

He made his way towards Henry, kneeling down and enunciating his every word. "Henry. How. Do. You. Turn. Autopilot?"

Mary frowned at his actions, placing a kind hand on Henry's sticky shoulder. "Please, just let him-"

"He's not gonna make it. Accept it. What you can do is," Irwin said matter of factually, leaning in. "Answer me, man, because people are going to die. Think of the people you love. They will not mourn you because you were too weak to not tell me how to turn the goddamn autopilot on!?"

Time ticked by as the altimeter dropped even lower, the plane now bursting through the high clouds as it plummeted to 20,000 feet.

Irwin's words injected life into Henry's weakening eyes, the pilot's mouth moving despite the intense pain enveloping his dying body.

Henry, with the help of Irwin and Mary, steadied himself in his seat, stretching his hand towards the control panel.

"Let's do this!"