Chapter Six
I'm not sure why today feels different. There’s a strange heaviness hanging in the air. Almost foreboding in a way. As per usual, Phantom’s hiding in his room. Lately, he’s done the bare minimum around here.
I'm seconds away from moving closer to him and making a move when somebody rudely knocks on the door.
“Yeah?” Phantom hollers out.
I must admit, the place looks a little dull without all the bottles lying around. I'm going to have to get a little more creative with what I throw, should another woman dare to get near my man.
The door slowly opens, and in peeks Voorhees. “Hey, can you come out here for a minute?”
Phantom reluctantly nods. “Yeah, sure.” We follow him into the common area.
Creature currently has one of the sluttiest Annies on his lap.
I think her name is Tiffany or something like that.
He’s got his hand in her panties, and the little slut is moaning, but you can barely hear her over the music in the background.
Krueger and Damien are sitting at our normal haunt, deep in conversation.
When Krueger acknowledges me with a nod, Damien turns around, grinning when he sees me standing there in my tattered outfit, ripped to shreds by the accident.
I look exactly the same as the day I died, only bruised up and covered in scratches.
Remembering that day had always been hard for me.
All I remembered was getting angry with Blake for attempting to go on a club ride without me, then everything leading up to the moment I got on the bike before waking up in a hospital room, staring down at Phantom’s lifeless body that was hooked up to chords and monitors, his soul barely clinging to life.
I stayed by his side the whole time he was down, and it pissed me the fuck off that nobody would talk to me. Doctors ignored me. Nurses barely looked my way. It wasn’t until a strange girl flagged me down in the hallway that I found out why I was being ignored.
“How long have you been down for?” she asked, staring through me like she could see everything going on behind me.
“Down?”
She nodded. “You know, dead?”
“Oh, I’m not dead.”
She laughed. “Girl, have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re dead. We all are.”
She motions to a few more patients dressed up in hospital gowns and frowns. “We are the lost souls of St. Mary’s Hospital, Ward five.” She extended her hand, but mine went right through hers. “I’m Harper. I died five years ago.”
“You died?”
She stared at me strangely. “Yeah, you couldn’t tell?”
Shaking my head, I shrugged. “You look like just another person to me.”
Harper chewed on her bottom lip. “Hmm, I’m guessing you didn’t die here then. Otherwise, you’d be able to tell who’s who. If I had to guess, you’re a poltergeist, not a ghost or a displaced spirit.”
“Poltergeist?”
She nodded. “They are spirits that are attached to objects or people. You can’t move more than a certain number of feet from them.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m that either. See, I can leave anytime I want.”
My body moved toward the elevator. It opened so that a few people could step out.
Muttering my apologies for stepping between them, I confidently strode in as the doors closed.
The second the elevator started its descent, everything changed.
I hovered above the ground, feet dangling for at least ten seconds before my body was violently ripped forward, hurled through a wall that I somehow miraculously floated through, and back to the fifth floor where I stood facing Harper again.
She grinned. “Yup, you’re definitely a poltergeist.”
“Well, that’s rather annoying.”
She shrugged. “What do you remember after waking up? What did you feel?”
“Besides the undying desire to be near my boyfriend? Nothing. All I remember is feeling like I needed to keep a promise.”
Her eyes widen like she suddenly had an epiphany. “Oh, so you have unfinished business then?”
“Unfinished business?”
Her head bobbed up and down slowly. “It’s why you’re still here and didn’t cross over. Something in the mortal realm is holding onto you. If I had to guess, it’s your boyfriend.”
The thought of Blake’s love for me lasting beyond death made me feel invincible.
“So now what?” I questioned her.
She raised a single eyebrow at me. “Now you wait until he dies.”
“Dies?”
She nodded. “So you can be together again.”
That last line stuck with me. It’s all I think about. How wonderful it would be to be with Blake again, and for him to finally communicate and see me.
Damien gets up from the table and saunters up to me. “Do you feel it?” he questions, his expressions limited to a single lowly eyebrow raise.
“Feel what?”
“There’s a strange charge in the air, like the barrier from the ethereal veil has lifted or something.” He stops speaking when a girl walks through the door with Drac’s wife, both moving straight to Voorhees and Phantom.
“Whoa, who the fuck is that?” Damien questions, his usual charm switching on again.
“You do realize you’re dead, right? She can’t see or hear you.”
But Damien isn’t paying attention to me; he’s moved across the room, circling the two girls with a strange fascination and curiosity.
Drac’s wife doesn’t even flinch. But the other girl… she hugs herself like she can sense him.
“You can feel me, can’t you?” he asks her, but she doesn’t respond. Just looks around nervously.
“Phantom, I’d like you to meet Autumn. Autumn’s the girl I was telling you about, the one that can talk to ghosts.”
“I fucking knew it!” Damien shouts. “The bitch can hear me.”
The girl nibbles on her bottom lip, looking kind of sick and uncomfortable. She’s pretty, I’ll give her that, but she’s definitely not me.
Her eyes lift slowly, meeting Blake’s curious gaze in a strange pause that could be considered flirting. A blush consumes her cheeks, and she instantly looks at her feet, suddenly more nervous than before.
His mouth slightly moves into a…
No way! Is that a fucking smile?
Why is he smiling at her?
Wait! Did he just wink? He did! That bastard is winking at this bitch like he’s interested.
This shit needs to stop! Right now!
A strange rush of rage vibrates through my body, sending a glass off one of the tables.
Her eyes widen. “Oh!”
Phantom’s smile fades. “Yeah… pretty sure that’s why you’re here.”
She looks around the room, almost as if she’s trying to find the culprit.
“I’m over here, bitch! And before you say anything, you can take your happy ass out that door!”
The girl hugs herself. “You have a very angry spirit here. There’s a lot of jealousy and rage surrounding them.” She closes her eyes, and I suddenly feel like someone is studying me with a giant magnifying glass. Her eyes pop open again. “Did you lose someone close to you?”
Phantom pauses. “You could say that, Autumn.” He’s staring at her in a way I’ve never seen him look at a woman before.
He’s devouring her with his gaze, strangely fascinated with her cheekbones that are oddly perfect.
It’s like he thinks she’s special or something.
His gaze roves over her body, only stopping when he reaches her chest, that’s a bit small, if you ask me.
Then he does something I loathe. He smiles, the stupid corners of his mouth lifting in appreciation of her beauty.
So what if she has perfect cheekbones? Medusa had perfect cheekbones too, and that bitch stoned people to death.
Well, at least the two have that in common because all the men in the room have suddenly gone eerily still, frozen in place by the sudden new onslaught of tits and ass.
It’s probably because she’s going for a bohemian goddess look with her gold-streaked chestnut hair, falling in ringlets around her face.
Two delicate strands are pinned back with a fake flower clip, the kind you’d find in a dollar bin, and somehow, she makes it look romantic.
Fuck, I already hate her.
She’s got no ass, but her jeans cling to her just right, giving her curves she doesn’t deserve underneath the patched and faded fabric that looks DIY instead of designer.
What’s with that damn top?
This isn’t some Victorian movie set; it’s a biker club, for fuck’s sake!
She’s wearing an overly dramatic flowy top that shifts when she moves, giving her an airy look that makes her look like she’s made of breath and sunlight.
She looks effortless. Untouchable. Human. I fucking hate it.
And then there are those freckles. Scattered across her nose like stardust. I hate them too. Each one feels like it was placed there on purpose, some cruel reminder that imperfections can look beautiful on the right kind of person.
They make her glow.
They make her real.
They make me remember that I’m not.
Her eyes are what send me over the edge, though.
They’re too green, too bright, too alive.
The color of spring after a long, hard winter.
They shouldn’t exist. No one’s eyes should look like that.
When she blinks, it’s like the world pauses to admire her.
Even the light bends around her face, jealous that it can’t compare.
I used to think I knew what beauty was. Then she walked in, and I realize beauty is what’s left behind to haunt you.
Fuck! What is happening here?
Damien invades my thoughts by placing an unwanted arm around my shoulders, which I quickly shrug off.
“Looks like your boy has a bit of a crush going on, Dollface. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him smile like that.
He’s almost attractive when he flashes those perfect teeth.
” He cocks his head to the side and grins.
“He’s still not as pretty as me. Half my face is missing, and I still look better than him. ”
“Shut up!” I snap. “I’m trying to listen.”
Phantom says something, and the girl starts laughing, nervously placing a piece of hair behind her ear.
Great! Now she’s smiling back. There’s a whole lot of smiling going on here, and I don’t like it. Not one bit.