While I was sitting in the study, overwhelmed by all the files to flip through in order to put together the story of Nox, the novels started to call to me. Standing from my desk, my boots carried me over the rug, my footsteps silent as I approached the bookshelf. Eyes drifting over the spines, their titles each catching my attention, they stopped on one. Hooking my finger over the top of it, I slid the book from its place. Its weight felt like a friend in my hand as I returned to my desk. Studying the artful cover, the title "Ghost King" sat oddly with me. I wondered what a ghost could have to do with the curse of a witch. The me from my forgotten past said that these books were all here for a reason, they were all connected in some way. It was my job to figure out how, so I suppose I needed to start somewhere. Opening the novel, I flipped through the front pages, paying them little mind, until my eyes met with chapter one.
Chapter 1
Accurate Representation
Was this the end, or only the beginning?
Choking as my head was submerged, sometimes it was hard to tell.
Vision blurring as I was shoved back into the water, my world spun.
It had happened so fast, dying.
“Aren’t you a Kloven?”
Pulling myself out of the pool, the insecurity was striking as my shirt and shorts clung to my skin. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around me, trying to hold everything in. A series of splashes behind me sent ice through my veins as I quickened my pace.
“Your family is supposed to be cool,” Russel called out, closing the distance between us with every word, “but you’re just weird.”
Looking for the teacher, they were never where they were supposed to be at times like this.
“Don’t ignore me,” a pool noodle barely missed my head.
Watching it float in the kids pool for a moment, I took a shaking breath and turned around.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” trying to stand my ground, I knew it was useless, it always was. “I’m not like my family, I know. You don’t have to tell me that.”
Russel, ever charming, stood there, his posse of boys behind him as he towered over me. What I had done to earn such a prime seat in his attention, I’d never know.
Eyes on us, my classmates watched from the larger pool, unmoving.
A dark shadow jumped in my vision, startling me. Looking to the side, my eyes searched the area by the water fountain but I saw nothing.
“What are you looking at?”
Another blur ran through my vision, making me step around. Facing the kid’s pool, I could see a faint shadow at the bottom as bubbles came to surface. Was it boiling?
“Don’t turn your back on me,”
The moment I went flying, feet slipping on the wet floor, lasted longer than any moment should. The anticipation of impact was overwhelming as the water grew near. Smacking into it, the first sensation that riddled me was the sting. It radiated over my entire front but was soon extinguished by the bitter cold. The shock raced through me but lingered on my ankle. The pool was only a couple feet deep, why was I still sinking? Struggling as pain shot up through my leg, what felt like claws dug into my skin, pulling me further. Eyes burning, I couldn’t see anything except warped watery shapes.
When I hit my head, my ears rang louder than the air escaping my lungs. I wanted to fight it, to hold my breath as long as I could, but the aching need to breathe won and my body grew heavier, sinking further.
When we die, where do we go?
Hands yanked me up out of the water.
Blue.
The first thing I saw was bright electric blue as my eyes veered into focus. In the arms of a stranger as he knelt with me beside the pool, his long orange hair cascaded over his shoulder. Speaking to me, I couldn’t hear him, the only sounds in my world were wobbly and wet. His concern was palpable as his glowing blue eyes searched mine as they struggled to stay open. Little white, blurry blobs floated around us, but my eyes failed to comprehend them. The only thing I saw was him, the only thing I felt was his arms as they held me. His touch, I couldn’t tell if it was hot or cold. All I knew was that it burned.
“Kaspian,” his voice was the first sound that met me as the ringing of my ears dulled into numbness, “not yet, it’s too soon,”
Being only thirteen, I hadn’t really the words to describe the way his voice made me feel. But as I stared up at him, his hair spilling over his shoulder, his furrowed brow, his glowing eyes, the reserved but caring tone, I did know something.
He was ever so slightly transparent.
People came rushing toward us but ran right by. Slowly moving my head to the side, Russel came into view as he screamed, tears bellowing as he sobbed. Adults jumped in the pool and water splashed, but it went right through me.
Pain shot up through my leg.
Yelling out at the sensation, I realized I had no water to cough up in my lungs. Eyes struggled to look down, all I saw was black as it crawled up my leg. The boy jumped when he saw it, taking one of his hands from my chest and moving it down to my ankle. A blue light grew from his palm and when it made contact with my leg, I tried not to let on how much it burned.
The water started to turn black and his eyes jumped up. A flicker of red flashed through them before he looked back to me. His voice was quiet, calm, though his eyes looked as if they held hell themselves in their blue swirls, “Until we meet again, Sire.”
Standing from my side, he extended his hand. Materializing out of nowhere, a sword’s form started to glow in the air until the full weight dropped into his hand. Stepping forward, my view of the commotion behind him was no longer obstructed. A crowd of people knelt by the pool, all surrounding something. Another person shifted over and only for a moment did I see it, my body laying there. After taking another step, the young man sprung into the air above the pool, plunging into it, sword first.
My world bleached white in an explosion of light.
Coughing, I was now face down, people yelling my name.
My lungs screamed.
I coughed so hard, I was nearly sick.
It happened so quickly, I hadn’t even realized I was dead.
Head being ripped up and out of the water, a handful of my hair in Russel’s grasp, nothing had really changed from back then.
“Where’s your ghost now, Kasper?” He threw me to the bathroom floor, leaving me in puddles of toilet water as he laughed.
Hair disheveled and wet, dripping in my face, I didn’t speak.
It had been five years since then and it didn’t matter what I said, Russel was relentless.
Kicking me on the way out, Russel’s laughter echoed as he left the bathroom to continue his endless reign of terror elsewhere.
Picking myself up from the floor, a sigh escaped me as I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it out of my face. Clothing soaked, I was actually a little impressed as I walked up to the sink. Usually Russel would just throw a few hits in, knock my books out of my hands and be on his merry way. He must have really been feeling inadequate in his manhood today. Though I couldn’t blame him, I’d feel insignificant too if I were conceived on the back of a tractor.
A groan took me as I washed my face, desperately trying to salvage any dignity I had remaining. Staring at myself in the mirror, water droplets forming at the end of every clump of hair, I really hated high school.
Being shoved in the halls, people laughed as I passed. It really should have been an old joke by now, but my misery never stopped being funny. Rounding a corner, my eyes scanned down the line of lockers to snag on one. As I got closer, I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t my locker that had some brown substance smeared on it. But as I stopped before it, my locker, I just stared.
I suppose this is what I got for being the way that I was.
Taking what I had on me and not bothering with my potential biohazard locker, I started up the stairs and down the hall. Slow, my left limp was noticeably bad today. My hand was so cold my fingers barely obeyed me enough to open the door handle of the unused storage space that was my club room. Closing it behind me, the light flickered to life above my head, flickering every few moments or so as I set my soggy books down on the table. As I pulled the chair out, my elbow knocked one of my notebooks to the floor. Bending over to pick it up, I paused.
Orange bled into blues, my drawing of the boy I saw was ruined by the water.
Picking it up, I set it open on the table, looking down to him. Fingers tracing the lines I had drawn so many times they were engraved into my soul. His transparent form, his glowing eyes and fiery hair, touch like ice so cold it burned, those fragments were all I had left of him in my mind. But there was one thing about him I knew to be undoubtably true.
He was a ghost, he had to be.
Of course when you’re thirteen and you die but live to tell the tale, you’re going to tell it. I quickly learned though, that that’s not how one makes friends. No one believed in ghosts, and if they did, they believed they were bad.
Taking out the poster board from between the bookshelf and desk, I laid it over the table.
It was quiet up there, in my club of one. Phantasmal, Juniper High’s own paranormal investigative team, or that’s what the club brochure said anyway. Popping the cap off of my pen, I stared down at my canvas. Ever since that day, my mind had been occupied with one thing. Drawing my message out in big bubble letters, my frustration with my hands grew. I knew ghosts were real, so why couldn’t anyone prove it? Endless hours I had spent, researching, documenting, investigating and shifting through data. But I was no closer to finding them than I was the day I started five years ago. Content with my sign, I nodded as I clicked the lid back onto my pen.
But I wasn’t going to give up.
I knew ghosts were real, and it was up to me to prove that they were undoubtably good.
“Boycott this movie!” I yelled, holding my sign in the air, “It misrepresents ghosts, they’re not evil!”
People passing by fought to not look at me, some rolled their eyes, others laughed. The young man behind the ticket window shook his head at me. Yes, I was indeed protesting a horror movie. I stood out there, night after night, trying to fight for the rights of those who couldn’t fight for themselves. I was a lot like those ghosts on the other side, though, so I couldn’t really put up much of a fight. But I sure as hell was going to try.
“Come on, human rights are on the forefront and ghosts are people too.”
“Give it a rest, Kasper,” a classmate droned as they passed by, “go back to your cave or something.”
“You’re cruel,” I followed him to the ticket window, “How can you support this?”
“Watch,” he maintained intense eye contact as he bought a ticket for the movie I was protesting, “See, that was simple and normal.” He started toward the door, “Not that you’d have any idea what normal was.”
I glared at his back before returning to my spot. Determined to change their minds, I really did think I was fighting the good fight. I stood there late into the night, passionately protesting against the wrongdoings of Hollywood. People did their best to ignore me, as if I was a panhandler or trying to get them to sign a petition. I could feel the sting of them pretending I wasn’t there, making me invisible in their world. For all I knew, there could be a ghost standing next to me who felt the very same way.
“What, do you believe in aliens, too?”
“Of course not,” I looked away from the person mocking me as they stood in the ticket line, “that’s absurd.”
“Oh yeah,” he laughed, stepping forward, “you’re right, my bad, that is absurd.”
I think if he rolled his eyes any harder they would have popped right out of his skull.
“How about Bigfoot?” Another person called.
“Or the Loch Ness Monster?”
I looked over the distasteful people before me, how could they be so callous? Holding my picket sign a little tighter, I stormed from the sidewalk. Their laughter behind me as I left made my back ache from its impact. The world was full of jaded people and to me, they were far scarier than any ghost could ever be.
I reached out for my car door handle but then it shocked me. Jumping back, I hissed through my teeth. Goddamn static electricity. I could barely touch anything without having the hell shocked out of me. Sometimes it even left a mark. Sitting down in my car, I placed my sign on the seat next to me. It had one phrase on it, the core of all of my beliefs.
Ghosts Are Good.
I leaned my forehead onto my steering wheel with a deep breath. How long could I keep this up?
“If you’re here, watching me, right now would be a good time to let me know.”
I was met with silence.
As I drove home that night, my mind wandered. I knew they were there, so why had five years passed, and I still hadn’t found a single hint of them? They had to be watching, they had to see how I felt about them. Did they not trust me? What could I do to earn that trust so that I could show the world that ghosts truly were good? Maybe then I could put a stop to the horror movies.
In the very back of my mind, a thought stirred that served to quicken the pace of my heart. If I could find a way to communicate with them, maybe I could meet him again. I didn’t have a name, but I had a face and an infatuation to go off of. And while it wasn’t much, it was enough to occupy my every waking moment, driving my obsession further. If I worked hard enough, put in the time, inevitably it had to lead to somewhere, right?
That’s what I told myself, what I had to believe.
Because if that wasn’t true, well, the alternative was far too heavy.
I pulled up to the front gate and it opened slowly before my car. Driving into the courtyard, I climbed out of my car and took my sign with me. Approaching from the darkness was our butler, Les.
“Good evening, Master Kasper. You’re back later than usual.”
I tossed him the keys, “I took the long way home.”
He caught them and started toward the driver’s side, “Young Master Hugo stayed up waiting for you, he’s in your study.”
Irritation pumped through my veins as I thanked him and stormed up the marble front steps. Struggling with the large mahogany door, I broke into a run through the front room. My shoes barely made a sound against the marble floor as I started up the grand staircase. Passing by maids and other house workers, I ran down the hallway. Busting through the library door, I went running to the back right corner of the room. Stopping in front of the bookshelf, panting, I pulled a book out. The shelf moved forward from the wall then off to the side, showing my study. But that wasn’t all, there on the Persian carpet sat my little brother, Hugo, holding one of my notebooks in his hands.
“What have I told you a million times?” I set my sign down as I walked up to him.
His big brown eyes wide, a giggle on his breath, he looked up to me, “To not come into your study and touch your stuff.”
“Yes,” I sat down on the carpet next to him, “Where are you?”
“Your study.”
“And what are you touching?”
“Your stuff.”
I sighed, ruffling up his spiky blond hair, “Well, at least you’re aware,” With a yawn, I leaned back on my hands and looked him over, “What is so interesting about my study?”
“Everything,” He lit up, holding my notebook closely, “Have you found the ghosts yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Are they hiding from you?”
“I suppose they are,” I slid the notebook from his small hands and stood.
He stood and followed me, “I was just getting to the good part.”
“Oh?” I slid it back onto the shelf, “And what part would that be?”
“The part where you research Boggles.”
“You like them?” I turned, leaning my back up against the bookshelf and crossing my arms.
“Yeah!” His youthful energy, it was exhausting to witness, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way as the fire in his eyes brought a bit of warmth to me.
A smile found its way to my face, the only person in the entire world who took me seriously was my ten-year-old brother. Taking a book gently from the shelf, I knelt down and held it open. “But aren’t Poltergeist more interesting?” He took the book from me and looked over my investigations into that type of ghost. “You know, some say they’re actually the manifestation of the emotional energy generated from moody teenagers like me.”
He giggled, handing the book back to me, “They’re scary, but I don’t think you’ve generated one, you’re too happy.”
I put the book back, “You think so?”
Nodding, I don’t think he really understood what I had said as his eyes searched the spines of the books before us, “Tell me about Earthbound?”
I hesitated before pulling the next book out as a thought crashed into my mind, freezing my muscles. The more I told him, the more interested he became, the more likely he was to be cast aside like me. My gaze floated to him. He had our movie star father’s face, our model mother’s eyes, our millionaire grandfather’s smile, and our corporate queen grandmother’s spark. There was still hope for him. He wasn’t like me.
“It’s getting late and we have school in the morning,” I retracted my hand from the bookshelf. “You’ve already stayed up late enough.”
“But-”
I picked him up, “Until you’re old enough to fight me off, I’m always going to win,”
“You’re stupid,” he fell limp as I carried him out, over my shoulder.
“I know,” I stopped outside my hidden study, “If you’d do the honors.”
He pushed the book I had pulled, back in, triggering the door to slide closed. The gears groaned behind us, the click of the secret door closing as I put distance between us and my obsession. I carried him, a bounce in my step, around the library and he laughed the whole way. That mansion was far too big for the both of us, even for all of the employees combined. Who needed a house that gargantuan, I had no idea. Especially when the owners were literally never home. I think we had seen dad more in movies than in person, seen mother smile more in pictures than ever at us. The outside saw an infallible mansion built on top of a legacy of wealth so towering that all who stood behind its doors must have been a god. But as the person standing on top, I saw nothing of the sort.
Dropping Hugo on his bed, he bounced, laughter unfading. Looking down to him, his spiky hair disheveled, his eyes unclouded, free of judgment, I couldn’t help but smile a little. Hugo had so much promise, it was an honor and a curse to be his older brother. Staring out of the room, the creak of his bed followed me.
“Why are you never mad at me?”
Stopping, I looked over my shoulder to him, not turning fully, “You’re just too little for me to justify taking revenge yet. Just you wait, though, I’ll come after you someday.”
“No you won’t,” he flopped back down on his bed, rolling over so that he was viewing me upside down, “you’re too nice. I want to grow up to be like you.”
My smile faded as I reached for the light, “No you don’t, you want to actually have friends.”
I turned down the light because I didn’t want him to see my smile fade any more.
“You don’t have friends?” The bed shifted as he moved, “Why?”
I started out of the room, hand on the doorknob, “Take a wild guess,”
“But,” he sat up, “aren’t the ghosts your friends?”
Looking back at him, he was too precious, “Perhaps they are.”
Walking down the hall that was grossly huge, hands in my pockets, I fought off the ache in my stomach. I had three goals in life, the first of which was to make sure that Hugo absolutely never grew up to be anything like me. After climbing an inordinate number of stairs, I walked into my room. It was always so cold. Taking off my black jacket, I tossed it onto my black chair next to my black desk. I changed out of my black clothing into my black pajamas and laid down on my black comforter covered bed. With a groan I ran my hands over my face, shoving my black bangs out of my eyes.
I really hate the color black.
As if my world was both destroyed and saved by that encounter, I wondered what my life would be like if I hadn’t gone on that pool field trip. Would I have stood a chance in the normal world? Or was I simply destined to be the weird ‘other kid’ of the profoundly talented Kloven family? Actors, singers, artists, business tycoons, I was standing at the bottom of a line of horrendously successful people. But what did I amount to be? A ghost sympathizer protesting horror movies.
A knock came to my door, startling me.
“Master Kasper,” Les’ muffled voice came through my door, “the household heads have returned.”
They were home? Both of them? At the same time? Standing, I panicked. Digging through my closet filled with, you guessed it, black clothing, I found the one suit I owned, hiding in the way back. Nearly choking myself, I struggled with my tie until I got it on correctly. My mind spun as I went racing down the stairs. If they had both returned, then there must have been a reason. And as I ran into the main hall, I feared that the reason was me.
Les looked me over, his tame green eyes falling to my tie. With a concealed chuckle, he walked up and fixed it, “You’re a disgrace. Are you aware of this, Master Kasper?”
I sighed through clenched teeth, “Painfully.”
He smiled after fixing my tie and stood off to my side, a few steps back. My heart dropped into the acid of my stomach when the door started to open. As if she had stepped off of the pages of a magazine, my mother swaggered into the room, followed by my father. Their presence was larger than life, making the air in the room drop.
Eyes hidden behind sunglasses; their gazes were unreadable as they approached. But despite that, I could feel their glares digging into my core. Stopping before me, the people who I knew better as their characters than my parents, they stood in apathetic silence.
“Kaspian.” My mother began, “I see you look deathly ill, as always.”
“Hello,” I didn’t look to her sunglasses.
“How are things at the academy?” My father wasn’t bothered enough to look up from his phone as he texted.
“Good.”
It was important to keep it short when you were lying, as to not garner unwarned suspicion with extraneous details. Not even I was too stupid to fear the hell that they would raise if they found out that I had been expelled from the academy years ago.
And as if I no longer existed, they walked past me. As far as they were concerned, I was the family dirt to be swept under the rug. They only lifted up the rug on occasion to make sure I was still there. They needed to care about my existence just enough to keep the failure that I was hidden, but not care enough to actually care. It really shouldn’t hurt much anymore; it had been that way for a while now. But there was just something to the fading click of my mother’s heels against the brittle stone mansion floor that tugged at my insides.
I wasn’t an accurate representation of the Kloven family legacy, and they made sure I knew it.
After standing there far too long, I started back up toward my room. Slowly, each step dragged me down a little more. The carpet rolled over the marble floors didn’t soften its hardness, the windows, despite being needlessly large, didn’t allow much moonlight in, and the stars were hard to see through the glass. I hated that mansion.
Falling onto my bed that was far too big for me, I stared at my vaulted ceiling. My room was so big and cold, it felt like it could erase me. I mustered the strength to shower away the dried toilet water and crawled into bed. After letting a sigh escape my lungs, I leaned over off of the side. Pulling a bin out from under my bed, I took a book from the inside. Opening the book as I sat up against the wall, I took my phone from my nightstand and activated the flashlight.
Earthbound, Boggle, Poltergeist, Demons, and Shadow People, they were my only friends. Flipping through the pages, my eyes drifted over the words I already knew by heart. There was a comfort in the unknown, something about the text on the page that felt more alive than the living. I knew they were there, I knew they were kind and I was on their side.
So why couldn’t I find them?
Falling over onto my pillow, I slightly hoped I’d suffocate. Then I’d find them. When it became difficult to breathe, I groaned. Rolling over, I held the book close as I stared upward into the darkness of my vaulted ceiling, an empty canvas for my eyes to paint anything upon.
Someday
Somehow
Someway
I’d find them, I’d find him.
As my eyes closed, blue and orange collided behind them.
“Have a good day at school, Master Kasper.”
“I mean, I’ll do my best but,” waving as I approached the front door, a yawn took me, “no promises.”
“May I make a suggestion,” He approached as I stopped at the door, placing his hand on my black sweatshirt, “maybe you’d be more accepted into society if you didn’t go out of your way to appear unapproachable.”
My voice strained as I struggled to push the door open, “I am the night.”
He just laughed at me as I bounced down the front steps. Walking out into the courtyard where Les had parked my car, I turned and took the last few steps backward. Looking over the mansion, I was humbled by its massive presence. It felt so cold, but it was a different cold than his eyes. This cold was dull, his cold was crystallizing.
The morning air felt different that day, a little livelier than it usually did. Electrified, building, something about it even felt a little exciting. Taking a deep breath as I paused at the door of my car, I looked into the sky. October was my favorite month, the time of year when everyone else was thinking about ghosts too.
Jumping back when my car door handle shocked me, I laughed.
The drive was nice, roads clear, green lights. It was almost enjoyable until the inevitable appearance of the rectangular box building polluted my view. Pulling into the parking lot, I left my car in one of the furthest spots. Eyes on the ground, I tried to not invoke anyone’s attention. It never ended well for me when I did. I attended the last chance school, the place they put you when nowhere else wanted you. It went by the name Juniper High because just like the damn trees, the students were plentiful and unwanted. Sitting down in my classroom, I took out the library book and tried to lose myself into it.
“That movie was great,” a boy a few rows over from me said loudly, “what was your favorite part?”
“I loved it when the ghost ate the little girls innards, that was the best.”
I grit my teeth, trying to read and ignore them.
“How about the part when the possessed guy tore his own throat out?”
“Yeah, that was good too.”
“I’m really happy we didn’t listen to that batshit protester.” The boy was looking at me, I could just feel it.
“You’d think he’d get tired of it, day after day, being some martyr for things that don’t even exist.”
I looked up to them, unfortunately playing into their hands and giving them the exact satisfaction they craved, “They are real and they are better people than you ever will be.”
“Whatever dude,” they laughed, “it’s wild that your family even lets you go outside.”
Sinking in my chair, my eyes dropped to my desk. It was no secret what family I belonged to, and that I was nothing like them. Looking to my book, I searched for where I left off. Though I was no stranger to the mockery, it always threw me. After the teacher had a shouting match with my fellow students, desperately trying to wrangle them into silence, class started. Looking up to them from my book, I watched the poor teacher fuss about, writing things on the white board like anyone would actually take notes. I wondered if they drew straws, to decided who would be banished to suffer here, or if they chose this. Maybe they thought they could reform us. As someone threw a wadded-up paper ball at the teacher’s back while they were writing something else, I looked back to my book.
School was stupid.
The only thing I cared to learn about was the paranormal, and for every textbook we were assigned, I had three more of my own to read instead. Fidgeting with my eraser as I tried to tune the teacher out, I found it difficult to concentrate on what I was reading. Stretching a little, without moving enough to be noticeable, a shaking breath left me. Unable to sit still, my body felt wrong. Misaligned, even my clothing felt weird. Some days it was worse than others, and today, it was bad.
Jumping, I looked up as the bell rang. Gathering my things, it was a race to get to my club room before the halls became a war zone. Rushing out the door, I held my breath. I just had to get around the corner and up the stairs, then I’d be safe.
The stairs were in sight when my collar was yanked back.
Choking, I struggled with my attacker as they dragged me to the side of the walkway. Thrown into the wall, my breath was knocked out of me. Standing there, staring up at Russel, every ounce of fight drained from me.
“Hey, Kasper,”.
“Good afternoon.”
Russel leaned in, eyes hazy on mine, “I heard you were protesting a movie last night.”
“I was, yes.”
“That’s really something you should deny.”
He threw me to the ground, ripping my backpack from me as I fell. Tearing it open, he dragged out a few notebooks of mine. Papers flew everywhere as my books hit the floor. Looking up to him, I watched his sick smile grow, twisting his tan face. His eyes hungry for more to exploit, they searched through the pages as he flipped them. I was always expanding my notes, building onto my knowledge, and giving him more to make fun of me for.
“Who is this?” He turned the notebook back around to show me my drawing.
I flew to my feet and yanked it back from him, holding it close to my chest as I stepped back. “They are none of your business.”
He raised a brow, dropping my backpack and approaching, “Oh? Well this is new,” he backed me up into the locker, “You’re unusually protective of that drawing.” Snatching the notebook from me, he quickly won the struggle and held it up over my head, “Are they important to you?” He let go of me and with his other hand, started to rip the drawing up, “It’s too bad that no one could ever care about you,”
After sprinkling the ripped-up paper over my head, he left me sitting there, among the ruins. Picking up my things, I swayed as I stood, eyes on the ground. Laughter followed me as I situated myself, bits of paper falling from my hair with every shaking breath. Eyes dropping down to the remains of my drawing, my heart slowed. It was the best one I had of him, the clearest image I was able to pull from my mind. I knelt down and brushed the pieces up into my hand as to not litter the hallway. He had been rendered to nothing more than orange and blue bits.
Paper clenched in my fist, I stormed through the halls, head down as my jaw tightened.
Entering my one-man club, I flipped on the flickering light. Normally you needed five members to start a club, but the school board didn’t care at all. We were but troublesome numbers in a collapsing system. Sneezing, the dust in the room was thick enough in the air to cut with a knife. While they did bend some rules to approve my club, they had definitely given me the worst room in the school. Apparently, a teacher shot themselves in it several years back.
I sat and slumped over onto my folded arms. Trying to breathe, the quiver in my shoulders took a bit to tame.
The lights flickered.
It was quiet in my club room, separated from the rest of the school, the rest of my life. I liked the quiet, but sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have someone knock on that door and ask to join.
Shivering even though it wasn’t cold, I forced myself to stand. Taking my lunch out of my backpack, book in hand, I sat back down. Flipping to where I had left off, I jumped when the light flickered. Looking up, the fixture above me hummed and swayed. Trying to eat, it only made me feel sick. Why did nothing feel right? Adjusting my hoodie some, every sensation was too much. The weight of my clothing on my skin, the texture of food in my mouth, the effort it took to focus, I was never comfortable, never content. Shivering again, I rubbed my hands together.
“Are you making the room cold?” I said to no one in particular as I leaned back in my chair, staring at the light, “You know, as much as I appreciate it, could you perhaps haunt me in a less agitating way?”
The light flickered.
A sigh escaped me.
Taking a paper out, my markers spilled from the case on the table as I dug for a pencil. Bringing the graphite to the page, the moment it made contact it jogged the memory of my hand as lines started to form. The length of his legs, the shape of his torso, the elegance of his arms and the volume of his hair, they were all like second nature to me. With every mark, the ghost boy rose out of obscurity and became more concrete. Taking my markers out, there were two that I used far more than the rest. After lining his hair in black, I popped open the orange marker. With every stroke, the memory of his long hair regained its potency. Hovering over his face, blue in hand, I stared into his eyes. I could never do them justice, their depth, their glow, they haunted me.
Finishing the drawing, I admired his form.
This ghost boy, this nameless force, that’s why I did it.
Looking around my club room, the humming light above, the dusty surfaces, it was all for him.
A light smile tugged on the side of my mouth, threatening to cheer me up a bit.
The final bell rang, making me jump. It was almost like that damn bell rang like fifteen times a day or something, one would think it wouldn’t startle me any longer. Gathering my things, I wondered if the teachers even bothered marking me absent anymore. Something about being a truant felt empty, like I had let someone down. But as I pulled my backpack onto my back, I wondered who?
As I closed up the club room, I stood at the door for a few moments longer than usual.
Who was there to let down?
Staring at the darkened glass pang on the door, all I could see was my reflection.
Was there more to my character than this? More to me than a high school delinquent who didn’t show up to class, a failed legacy, a lost cause? Being shoved around in the halls, I grit my teeth. I’d never prove myself to my parents, never be what they wanted me to be. Making it out of the building, it took me two steps before I bolted.
I’d never be who Hugo saw in me.
Reeling back when my car shocked me, I hissed through my teeth as I sat down.
Hands in my face, leaning over against the steering wheel, I wondered if I had let him down.
Part of me wished that ghosts weren’t real, that way that boy could never see me like this.
The drive home that evening was unusually slow. Met by no one at the door, it was quiet. Hugo must have still been out. On my way to my room, I decided to stop by his. Without him in it, it was just a room, a still place. His light was enough to make any space more than a room, enough to make me feel like I was more than I was. Lingering there for a moment, I closed the door on my way out. After dropping my bag in my room, I started down the hallway. As several staff passed me, they bowed their heads.
I wasn’t worthy of that.
Reaching the library, my steps were slow until I rounded the corner to see that my study was open.
“Hi!” Hugo looked up to me from a mess of machines on the ground.
I stood in the doorway, staring at him. As I sat down on the floor next to him, I wished that he wouldn’t take me seriously, that he’d laugh at me like the others, because then he’d be accepted.
“What do these do?”
Looking over my machines, the tools of my obsession, each breath was harder than the last. “Nothing you’d be interested in,” my eyes drifted out the door, “you really shouldn’t hang around all this.”
Picking up another device, he inspected it, probably only half listening to me, “Why?”
Jumping over to him, I pulled him close, ticking him, “You’ll be cursed,”
“No,” he scurried away from me, “but really?”
I didn’t know how to explain it to him, that he and I were different. He was young enough to see the world without the tint that came with age. “You want to have friends someday, right Hugo?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need to stay away from this sort of thing, it will bring you anything but friends.”
“No,” He looked up to me, sitting amount a mess of gadgets and notes, “if it’ll bring me people like you, then it’ll bring the right friends.”
Staring down at him and his smile, he even made my study feel alive, “You’re really dooming yourself,” I leaned forward, placing my elbow on my knee, “Are you sure you want to learn more?”
He nodded so hard I was afraid he was going to hurt himself. What he ever saw in me, I’ll never know.
“Alright,” I said with a sigh as I looked back to the gadgets, “but these are a little hard to explain,” my gaze rolled back to him, “It would be a lot easier to just show you.”
Hugo Kloven, what a little star in the night he was. Hopping to his feet, gathering gadgets and papers in his arms, he was rearing to go. I wanted to smile, to treasure his excitement, but the nagging in the back of my mind kept the line of my mouth flat. Loading a couple cases of equipment into the back of my car, I helped Hugo with the heavier one.
“Someday I’ll be stronger than you,” Hugo huffed as he struggled to close the trunk.
Reaching up above him, I closed the trunk, “Undoubtedly, but for now I’m still bigger than you.”
After making sure he was buckled, I started my car. When was the last time we went for a drive together?
“Where are we going?” He looked out of the window at the slowly setting sun.
“I go to a few places to investigate regularly, but we’re going to go to the cemetery and the historic district. Those are my most active spots.”
His excitement was curious to me, so many people were afraid of ghosts, but he wasn’t. Parking in the public lot in front of the library, I helped Hugo unbuckle- much to his dismay. Running around my car, he beat me to the back. Unlocking the truck, I was reaching for it when Hugo shoved me away. The trunk clicked and a moment later, sent Hugo stumbling back. Catching him, I laughed a bit as I reached for the briefcase sitting in the back. Closing the trunk, I handed him the keys to lock it. With a honk of my car horn, his satisfaction was palpable.
Tossing my keys at me, he laughed as he ran away and toward the grass. After catching them, I stood there, for but a moment, watching him. I had spent so long trying to deter his gaze from me, that I had missed so much.
When had he gotten that tall?
Joining him as he flopped over in the grass, I set the case down, opening it.
“Do you know what this is?” I held something up.
He pulled himself up from the grass, a bit of dried leaves in his hair, “A video camera?”
“Yeah,” I turned it on and waited for the preview screen to load, “but this one is special,” after pushing a button, the screen turned infrared. He gasped as I went on, “This makes it possible to film in the dark.” I handed him the camera after turning it off then took the next thing out. “Do you know what this is?”
He shook his head.
“This is an Electromagnetic Field Detector, EMF detector for short. It will detect changes in electromagnetic fields on a level that it is believed ghosts emit.” I looked down to the, EMF, a gray rectangular box that had a line of lights that went from green to red. “But they also will pick up on things we have so,” I took out my phone and turned both little hand-held devices on. The light gauge on the EMF went all the way up to red when I held it next to my phone. “we have to be mindful of where it is.” After closing the case, I stood. “I’ve already been here and taken base measurements, but normally you’d have to see if there’s any sources of electricity about so you don’t accidentally document a false read.” As I went on about other starting procedures, he watched as if every word was another great discovery. Being marveled at was quite a thing.
“Alright,” I knelt down and handed him the EMF, “I’ll record and you can walk around with this, make sure to show the camera if you get any fluctuations.”
He accepted the EMF as if it were the Olympic torch and marched along. I followed close behind, my eyes drifting over the headstones. I had never tried to teach someone the things that I knew before. Is this what it would have been like, if someone came knocking on my club door? Would this make Hugo the first member of Phantasmal?
He stumbled about, jumping at every time the light went from its base of green to the next level of yellow. Those were simple, not uncommon, occurrences.
I couldn’t help but wonder, as Hugo investigated, if someone had come knocking, would I have opened the door?
“Some people like to say a prayer before they start,” I said, stepping over a headstone.
“Why?” He tripped over the headstone.
I picked him up by the back of his shirt. “Because they’re afraid of the otherworldly.”
He blinked at me as I held him, dangling there, “And you’re not?”
Dropping him, I continued on, “Not even a bit,”
He nodded, humming happily. “Ghosts are good.”
“Indeed they are.” A thought struck me, and I stopped. “Hey, come here,” I knelt down and he hopped up to my side, holding the EMF proudly in view. Taking out my phone, I switched it to the front camera. Staring at our image on the screen, Hugo’s smile that knew no inhibition made me smile too. Snapping the picture, it was sent into the memory of my phone as Hugo hopped away. Straightening, I pulled it up on my phone. I wasn’t fond of pictures of myself, but this was an exception.
After opening the settings, I set it to my lock screen.
Looking up, a smile took me. Hugo stepped around, EMF out, as he slowly approached a reading that grew stronger with every step. I could see it, the hesitation in his movements be overpowered by his stubborn will to prevail. Pocketing my phone, a rare burst of energy took me as I ran to his side. I hadn’t felt this way in a long while, it was even hard to peg what it even was. It made me smile though, and that’s all that mattered.
“Find something?”
Looking up to me, the red lights of the EMF reflecting in his eyes, he nodded.
Bringing my hand up to the headstone we stood before, it was old and warn, the name long gone, but I knew who it belonged to.
“It looks like someone may be here with us,” I knelt down next to Hugo, bringing my arm around him, “maybe you should say hello?”
Shaking his head, his eyes averted as his face went red, sinking into his little red and white sweater.
“Alright.” I ruffled his hair as I straightened, “Hello Graveyard Guardian. I brought my little brother with me tonight, he’s a little shy though. Would you like to show him that you’re friendly?”
The air went cold, the EMF continued to jump between from the orange to the red, the wind picked up around us. Hugo stepped closer to me, holding onto my coat as he watched. The leaves around rustled, the bushes shook, the temperature continued to drop.
The sun set.
Slowly, Hugo looked up to me, brows raised, eyes wide. Voice barely above a whisper, his eyes moved to the headstone, “Whoa.”
Smiling, I looked to the headstone as well, “Thank you.”
Of course there was the possibility that I was just talking to a rock while I stood on top of a rotting body, but I really liked to think otherwise.
The world fell still around us, the energy in the air draining.
Quiet, Hugo followed closely at my side as we left the cemetery, the EMF no longer reading anything.
“Why do you thank them?” Hugo asked as we walked along the side of the road.
“Wouldn’t you like to be thanked for your effort?”
He hummed, hopping over a pile of leaves on the sidewalk. “You really think there are ghosts here?”
“Yeah,” I looked to the darkening sky, “somewhere. I think they’re lonely, trapped even. The least I can do is give them the acknowledgment they deserve, even if I can’t see them.”
As cars zoomed by us, a brief silence settled in.
“Did mom and dad come see you last night?”
He nodded, hopping about from one sidewalk segment to the next, “They woke me up to tell me they’re switching me into a private school.”
My grip tightened on briefcase, “Oh?”
“They’re also signing me up for football,” he kicked some leaves, “I don’t know how I feel about it.”
“I’m sure you’ll have fun there and with football,” Shoving him a little, I smiled even though I didn’t want to. If he saw how angry that made me, he’d ask why it upset me. And this sort of resentment was not something I wanted to introduce someone his age to.
“Maybe,” he yawned, “I dunno.”
“Getting tired?” He nodded and I went on, “We just have one more stop then we’ll head home.”
“You stay out all night doing this sometimes, right?” He yawned again, “How?”
“Every night I’m out searching for them is another night closer to finding them.”
As he started to veer around, his young energy getting the best of him, I took his hand. Laughing as he struggled against me, he quickly gave up and stayed by my side. The historical district of downtown around us, the stars above, it was a quiet night.
“You see this building?” I nodded toward the looming brick structure to our left, “That used to be a high school and the building next to it was once an athletics club. Once a kid drown in the pool there and now his ghost haunts the old school building next door, riding his tricycle up and down the halls.” I set down the briefcase and took out the camera and EMF. “Although I’ve been chased out every time I try to investigate because now it’s the district offices.”
After handing him the camera, I took the EMF and we started along again.
“Most of these buildings have some story to them. A kid haunts the bathroom of the historical society, along with a construction worker. A bakery is also haunted and same with the second story of some of the shop buildings. There’s a lot of activity down here, and stories too.”
He was fading fast but happily swinging the camera around all the same. He’d be a good little investigative partner, but I could never drag him into this downward spiral with me. As I stood there looking down to him, I made a choice.
This would be the last time.
I wouldn’t open the door.
“Hey Hugo?”
“Yeah?”
“What do you think of me?”
He thought for a moment, stepping around on the sidewalk in the area he could access at the length of my arm, “I think you’re weird,” He looked down to the camera in his hands, “But that’s okay because I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
A smile found me, bringing warmth to my chest in the cool October evening. My mouth open, I was about to thank him for loving me even though I didn’t make it easy, about to suggest that we head home, but then the temperature plummeted.
Blue.
Looking up, I was faced with it, the color so important to me it was etched into my soul.
The air went still, the EMF in my hand lighting up to the red.
Passing before me and away, the light left a tail of electric blue behind it.
Stepping toward it, I let go of Hugo’s hand.
Unable to breathe, I couldn’t believe it.
That was it, the blue that changed my life, stained my heart.
That was the color of his eyes and I wasn’t going to let it escape me.
Hugo reached out for me when I bolted into the street. I couldn’t lose that blue, that captivating color that ruled my dreams. My heart raced in my ears; adrenaline tore through my veins. This was it, the moment I’d find them, I’d find him. Reaching toward it, the tips of my fingers became cold and tingly. A smile tore across my face, was this going to be the moment all my hard work paid off? The day I finally proved it, that ghosts were good?
The blue was suddenly drowned out by white, the pounding in my ears dulled by the honking of a horn.
I only saw the car for a moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Staring at the last sentence of the first chapter, I closed the book. Eyes searching the cover again, I couldn't believe it. I knew the Kloven family, I was familiar with the school Kaspian had attended, and I remembered reading about what was about to happen to him in the news, it had happened not all that long ago. I had expected the books to have some connections to my own story, but there were ghosts in Blazing Star too? A slight smile found its way to me as I stared at the book in my hands, wondering about the story that sat inside.
Opening the book again, I turned to chapter two.
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