─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
I jolted awake, gasping. My chest rose and fell too fast, too shallow. My fingers clenched around the sheets.
The nightmares were worse. They always were. The same broken images, the same moments, looping endlessly. Blood pooled around my feet, and I gazed at my reflection in it with horror.
I should've been used to it by now.
But every day, I woke up like this—drenched in sweat, heart hammering.
Exhaling sharply, I raked my fingers through my hair and forced my legs to move.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Three messages from Hazel.
[Hazelnut]: Frank and I are at Percy's! Get over here already.
[Hazelnut]: And eat something first, I mean it.
[Hazelnut]: We're waiting for you! 😃
I stared at the screen, my vision blurring for half a second before snapping back into focus. Hazel's texts practically buzzed with warmth—persistent, insistent, her.
Something in my chest loosened just a little. She didn't have to check in, didn't have to make sure I wasn't isolating myself. But she did. She always did.
And that... that made me happy.
It wasn't much—just a handful of messages—but it reminded me that someone cared. That someone wanted me around.
A small, real smile tugged at my lips. She was impossible.
The nightmare still clung to me, my stomach still twisted into knots, but the weight pressing down on me wasn't quite as suffocating. I shoved my phone in my pocket and forced myself to move. Hazel wanted me to eat. Fine. I'd eat. Then I'd go.
And for once, I actually wanted to.
I made it to the doorway before I stopped.
A sound.
Faint, but persistent.
A muffled ringtone—distant but insistent.
I froze.
My phone was in my hand, but it wasn't ringing.
My stomach dropped. I turned back, ears straining, then crouched near my bed. The sound was coming from underneath.
Shoving my hand into the shadows, I grabbed the worn cardboard box and dragged it out. TOYS was scrawled across the top in thick black marker—an old lie, never corrected.
I flipped the lid open.
Inside, vibrating against the silver sheen of my dagger, was my other phone.
The one people called when they thought they had a haunting.
I exhaled slowly, watching the screen light up with an unknown number. Most calls were nothing—creaky houses, flickering lights, people freaking themselves out over nothing.
But sometimes... sometimes they weren't.
The phone kept ringing.
I sighed, swiped to answer, and pressed it to my ear. The voice modifier clicked on with a soft beep, lowering my pitch into something deeper, more distorted. I didn't always wear the mask, but I still needed to keep the Ghost King separate from—well. Me.
"This is the Ghost King."
For a moment, only breathing. Then, a girl's voice—shaky, uneven.
"Help us."
Something about her tone made me pause. The fear sounded real, but underneath it... something felt off. Too controlled. Too practiced.
"There's a ghost in the house."
I shifted, gripping the phone tighter. "How do you know?"
A hesitation. Then, "Uh—it's... throwing rocks!"
I frowned. "In the house?"
"Uh-huh."
I listened closer. Beneath her heavy breathing, I caught something else—muffled laughter. Quick, stifled, like someone trying not to be heard.
I narrowed my eyes. "And?"
"We can see it!"
I went still. No. That wasn't possible. People couldn't see ghosts. Not unless they were like me.
There had only been one other person who could, and he— Don't focus on that now, Nico.
I exhaled slowly. "Okay. I'll be right over." Even if this was fake, I had to be sure.
A soft exhale on the other end—almost like relief.
Then, the line went dead.
I was almost sure the call was bogus. Almost.
But I still had to check.
I moved to my dresser, crouching beside the entrance to my closet. Reaching underneath, my fingers brushed against dust and wood until—there. Cool metal met my touch.
I pulled back, a small, gold-colored key resting in my palm. Cold and smooth, the edges worn from use.
Straightening, I shoved the key into the lock of the top drawer and turned it.
Click.
Inside lay my black mask, hoodie, and jeans—my Ghost King attire.
I tugged off my pajamas and pulled them on, the fabric familiar against my skin. The hoodie was slightly worn, the jeans snug but comfortable.
Finally, I grabbed the mask. Hesitated for only a moment.
Then I slipped it on.
Bounding down the stairs, I grabbed my combat boots, tugged them on hurriedly, and stepped out into the crisp autumn air.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The sidewalk stretched ahead of me, empty in the cold.
The air smelled like damp earth and fallen leaves, the sky a dull, washed-out gray. Houses stood silent and still, their windows dark. A few scattered leaves tumbled across the pavement, caught in the sharp wind that cut through my hoodie like a knife.
I walked in silence, hands deep in my pockets, watching the pavement pass beneath my feet.
The wind picked up, rattling the bare branches overhead. A streetlamp flickered once before steadying.
I shivered.
Then something flickered in the corner of my eye.
I glanced up. Paused.
Turned back.
A house. A normal house. Or it would be, to someone who wasn't me.
The shadow of a tree in front of it wasn't still. It swirled, darker than it should have been, as if hiding something. The wind barely disturbed it. The darkness felt wrong.
And in the center—
My breath caught.
Glowing red eyes. Watching me.
A sharp, cold panic surged through me, drowning out thought.
Fragments of memory scattered like shattered glass—jagged, unclear. The only thing I could make out were those haunting pupils.
I stood frozen.
It stared at me. I stared at it.
Then, slowly, its gaze shifted.
It turned toward the house.
And in a blink, it was gone.
No.
I barely realized I'd whispered the word aloud. My heart pounded, my pulse thundering in my ears. I couldn't let it get away. Not this time.
I whipped around, scanning desperately.
There.
A window.
The same glowing red eyes stared back at me from the glass. Daring me to follow.
I wrenched my gaze away, turning toward the front door.
Only then did I recognize it.
A deep blue door. A stark contrast to the pale house.
My stomach dropped.
It was Percy's house.
Oh, shit.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
A/N
Imma just leave you there for now.
-Lyn
