by Tia Wylder
“This is just what I need. I’m not cleaning this damn place in the dark,” she huffed, waiting until the flickering seemed to cease. She thought little more of it, pulling the mop and bucket to the front of the restaurant. As she stepped through the door to the kitchen, she could make out a masculine figure sitting at one of the tables. For a moment, she began to panic. She had forgotten to lock the front door, and anyone could just bust in and rob the place. However, the man at the table made no effort to move from his place. She stepped further into the room, clearing her throat. “H-hello? Sorry, sir, we’re closed,” she managed. The man hesitated for a moment before turning to consider her.
“You can… see me?” He inquired softly. Kira thought to reply snidely, but all at once she became aware that she could see clear through the man. Almost like a…
Ghost. It was a ghost.
A scream tore past her throat, and for a moment, the whole restaurant seemed to spin.
Chapter Two
She felt a hand rest on her arm, and it seemed to be enough to ground her. She stumbled back as she realized it was the ghost man who had touched her, and he considered her with a reproachful look.
"Oh my God," she blurted, and his eyes glinted in amusement.
“I’m afraid I’m not any sort of god. Just a simple lost spirit,” he mused aloud. She narrowed her eyes, and he met her gaze with a smirk. She was slowly adjusting to the fact that she could partially see through him, and it seemed that he had no ill intent. At least, none that he had presented as of then.
“What are you doing here? This is a relatively new building, and I know ain’t nobody died here,” she said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest. How on earth she was managing to keep her cool in the presence of a ghost, a real ghost, was beyond her. He seemed equally bewildered by her nonchalance, and he shrugged his shoulders in response.
“I’m… not sure. I felt drawn here, and I was actually rather surprised that I could leave my property. Typically spirits are bound to some sort of place or object,” he trailed off, and her eyes widened in suspicion.
"You're an Orlando, aren't you?" She said bluntly, and he looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“How is that pertinent--,” he began, watching as she shuffled around to the other side of the counter. She reached out to grab the diary she had purchased earlier that day, waving it at the ghost man with a faint smile.
"I bought this book at an estate sale. The previous owner of the property, Hercules Orlando, died under mysterious circumstances recently," she murmured, and his eyes widened in recognition. He walked, or more accurately, floated towards her, reaching out to brush his fingertips to the cover of the diary. "You're Hercules, aren't you?" She asked bluntly, and he met her gaze with a melancholy smile.
“I was,” he replied softly, drawing away from her and crossing his arms over his chest. For the first time, Kira took a moment to consider his appearance. He certainly didn’t seem like the classic ghost one would see in the movies, in spite of his vague transparency. He could easily be mistaken for a living human if one didn’t take the time to fully consider him and, of course, if one could see him. His skin still looked kissed by the sun, though somewhat paler than her own. His hair was dark, falling to his shoulders in loose waves. Most notable of all was his piercing green eyes, which seemed to almost glow. She mused that he was rather handsome, would have likely had his choice of women in life. She had heard vague mentions of the man when he had been alive, and he hadn’t seemed the brooding type. His death had been altogether unexpected, and rather unexplainable. It appeared he had been murdered in cold blood, but there was no sign of forced entry. There were no fingerprints. There was no murder weapon.
Inhaling shakily, she met his sad stare.
“What killed you, Hercules?” She inquired softly, holding the diary to her chest. Her heart ached for the man, and if this were anything like the stories she so loved to read, he was only stranded on earth due to some unfinished business. He hesitated, looking utterly lost.
"I have no idea," he replied bleakly, and she quirked a curious brow. "It was something… otherworldly. That's as best as I can explain it. A ghost of sorts, I suppose, but…," he trailed off, drawing his hands to his chest. "I never believed in ghosts, myself. Rather ironic, I suppose," he smiled weakly, and Kira hesitated before reaching out to him. She was surprised to feel the sensation of warm flesh against her hand when she touched him. It was as if he were corporeal as if he were a living and breathing man. He seemed equally surprised, reaching out to grasp her hand in his. It seemed an oddly intimate gesture, but it somehow felt right. As if it were meant to be.
“Do you have any idea why you’re bound to this diary?” Kira stammered out, her face growing flush at the closeness of the ghost man. He seemed shaken from his reverie, considering the book clutched tightly in her hand.
"I haven't the foggiest of ideas. I'd never even read the thing, it was some sort of family heirloom," he muttered. She hummed softly under her breath, drawing her hand away from his to flip through the pages of the book. She didn't miss his look of vague disappointment as she drew away, but she didn't want to examine things too critically. Here she was, feeling her heart pounding in a way no man had ever come close to before. She refused to acknowledge that she was attracted to the ghostly figure, that he seemed equally attracted to her. There was no way that anything could come of it. After all, Hercules Orlando was dead. She refused to entertain any infatuation with his ghost.
Shaking off that thought, she continued to flip through the book.
“I feel like there must be some deeper reason that you’re tied to this book. Maybe… maybe there is some sort of answer held within, something explaining what happened to you,” she suggested quietly, and he seemed to consider her words. “If you’re bound to this book, it would be rather unfair to leave you here alone until we’re able to solve this mystery. I suppose there’s little choice but to carry you home with me,” she muttered, averting her eyes from his intense stare.
Though the thought of adventure excited her, the adventure that had been so entirely absent from her life previously, she had no idea what she was getting herself tied up in. She could only hope she didn't end up suffering the same fate of the man before her.
Whatever that fate was.
Chapter Three
He lingered close to her side as she finished cleaning up the restaurant. He made an effort to help, but most objects fell through his grip as if he weren’t even there at all. She could tell he was frustrated by his current situation, but she was confident there was something she could do to help. When she had finished her usual work at the restaurant, she grabbed her keys and the diary, leading the ghost of a man outside. She looked up, glancing in his direction and exhaling a weary sigh.
"You know, you're lucky. There aren't many women who would invite a ghost into their house," she said teasingly, and he looked more than vaguely apologetic. "Oh, Herc, I'm teasing. It's not as I'd just leave you here. Truth be told, all of this is actually rather exciting," she assured him, leading him to her clunker of a vehicle. He looked at the vehicle with something akin to disdain and Kira couldn't help rolling her eyes.
“How do you live like this?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious.
“We can’t all be born with a silver spoon,” she retorted, opening the driver’s side door. “And beggars can’t be choosers,” she added with a quirk of her lips.
“I did not mean to offend you, I simply meant…,” he paused, seeming to consider his words. “If I were still of the living, you wouldn’t be living in such meager conditions. You deserve so much more than the night shift sweeping up some small diner,” he said passionately, and Kira reddened at how bold the ghost man was being.
“If you were of the living, you wouldn’t even know I was alive,” she said bluntly, slipping into her car. She set the diary on the center console, and he phased through the car to settle in the passenger seat. She swallowed her instinct t
o tell him to buckle up, realizing belatedly what a silly notion that was. She did fasten her own seatbelt, however, starting up the ignition and backing out of the parking lot. She turned on her favorite radio station, singing along with one of her favorite songs. She could feel the ghost man’s eyes upon her as she drove, and she considered him from the corner of her eye. She paused in her cheerful singing, parting her lips to ask what had him so fascinated. Before she could get the words out, however, he spoke.
“You have a beautiful singing voice,” he murmured, and she felt herself grow warm once more. She cursed herself for allowing herself to swoon over a dead man, but she supposed this was not the normal situation.
The drive to her apartment was a short one. When she slipped out of the car, she was careful to grab the diary and carry it inside with her. She briefly worried how it may look for her to come home with some strange man, but the doorman only greeted her with a smile. It was as if Hercules were not even there. As the two stepped into the elevator to reach her floor, she turned towards the spirit with a quirked brow.
“Do you have any idea why I’m the only one who can see you?” She inquired, and he shrugged his shoulders uncertainly.
“I’m not sure. I can only hope that I was meant to find you. Perhaps you can solve the mystery of my death. I suppose I’m intended to cross over, once my worldly matters are settled…,” he trailed off, and Kira struggled to ignore the pang in her heart at the thought of the man leaving this world.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you,” she assured him, and he met her gaze with a warm smile.
"I know you will. You are a kind woman, Kira. I only wish…," he paused, averting his eyes. "I only wish I could have known you while I was of the living. I wish there were more I could give you than this diary," he blurted. She smiled, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder. His warmth never ceased to surprise her, but she certainly wasn't complaining.
“Oh, Hercules. You have no idea how long I’ve wished for something more than my boring, day to day life. You may be unable to give me riches, but you’ve given me something I would have never experienced otherwise. You’re giving me the adventure of a lifetime,” she assured him with a broad smile. He returned her fond expression, remaining silent until the elevator dinged to indicated they were on the correct floor. She stepped out, striding down the long halls to her run-down apartment. She was vaguely embarrassed for the man to see her living conditions, but she supposed it was better than leaving him at the restaurant. She pulled the door open, stepping inside and setting the diary on her coffee table. He looked somewhat uncertain as he took in their surroundings, but offered her a wordless smile.
“So,” he began, and she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.
"I'm going to get a shower, then we can look over the contents of the diary more thoroughly. I'm only a few pages in, so hopefully, there's something that can help you deeper in the book. You, ah. Stay out here while I get all freshened up, okay?" Kira muttered, feeling embarrassed by the idea of the ghost man following her into the shower. He smiled mischievously as if able to tell what she was thinking.
“I’ll be right here waiting for you,” he murmured, offering her a sly smile and a wink. Her heart seemed to clench in her chest, and as she shuffled to the bathroom, she wondered just what she was getting wrapped up in.
Chapter Four
As she stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body, she could feel the spirit's eyes watching her every move. She fought a blush, knowing it was irrational to feel this way. He was a dead man, and she was working to see that he could move on from this world. There was no sense in getting… attached. Still, as she made her way to her room to get dressed, she walked with a confident saunter in her step. As she stepped into her room, she allowed her towel to fall away from her body. She exhaled a shaky breath, realizing that with the ghost man in her living area, the whole apartment had grown colder than usual. She was all too aware of the hardening of her nipples but fought to ignore the sensation, searching for something to wear. She settled upon a long t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants that she had received as a birthday gift some years ago. Fortunately, in the years since she received the pajamas, her figure hadn't changed too much. As she got dressed, she swore she could feel the ghost's eyes upon her once more, and she felt a vague tingling between her thighs. She huffed out a sigh, pulling her pants on and turning to slip out of her room. She suspiciously looked where she had left the spirit man, only to see he had not moved from the spot. He watched her with a faint quirk of his lips, and she cursed herself for being so paranoid.
“Something on your mind?” He inquired casually, and she shook her head with a faint blush.
“Nothing important. Let’s start looking over this book,” she murmured in turn, slipping over to the worn sofa that sat in the middle of her living area. She grabbed the book off of the coffee table, flipping it open to the page she had marked. Hercules lingered just behind her, glancing over her shoulder as she tried to focus on the content of the book. The chill she had felt in her room only intensified, and she felt her cheeks grow warm at the proximity of the man. His actions were rather innocuous in nature, it seemed he was more interested in the book than her body for the time being. However, when she finally allowed herself to become absorbed in the book, she could feel the sensation of a warm hand ghosting along her bare arm. She jolted, looking towards him with confusion in her eyes. He looked vaguely chagrined, drawing his hand back to himself.
“It’s just…,” he trailed off, and she continued to watch him, expecting an explanation. “I feel so cold all the time. I suppose it comes with the whole… being dead, thing. However, when I’m close to you, I feel warm. Almost as if I were still alive,” he muttered, looking vaguely embarrassed by the confession. She drew her lip between her teeth, setting the book aside and reaching out to take him by the hand. It felt solid in her grip, warm and calloused as if she were holding the hand of a lover.
“I… don’t mind,” she said carefully, watching as he slipped through the couch, settling just at her side. She turned to face him with curiosity dancing in her eyes. He reached out to caress her cheek, his touch tender and almost loving. He smiled gently, tracing his thumb along the swell of her plump lips. Swept up in the sensations, she pressed a kiss to the exploring digit. He seemed to shudder in delight, and she could only struggle to ignore the warmth set alight in her heart. After a long moment, he drew away. He stared at his hands, seeming to weigh his options. Something was obviously plaguing his mind, but Kira didn’t dare ask what that may be.
“I suppose we should return our focus to the book. I apologize for getting carried away,” he murmured, drawing away from her. Her lips turned downwards, but she voiced none of the protests that sprang to mind. She tried to tell herself that she was becoming too enamored with the situation… too enamored with the spirit man. However, as she pulled the diary into her lap and resumed reading, her mind could only focus on the text within to a certain point. He leaned in closer, and she breathed in a shuddering breath.
“You’re right, of course,” she replied belatedly. He smiled, though it seemed a somewhat sad sensation. Kira couldn’t help feeling as if he was thinking the very thing she was thinking as well. As soon as she solved the mystery of what kept him tethered to this diary, he would be moving on from this world. She would never see him again, at least, not while she was alive. It sent a pang of pain through her heart to consider losing him, though she had only known him for a short time. It was strange, the intensity of her feelings. It felt as if it were meant to be somehow, though she could only reason she had just lucked out in being the one to purchase the diary.
Refusing to allow herself to get caught up in negative emotions, she focused on the book as best as she was able. Hercules drew away from her, presumably to give her some much-needed space. As she read through the pages, she found herself reading at a much slower pace than usual. She told herself she was just scouring th
e pages for information. However, she suspected there was another reason as well.
She had never felt so selfish in her life.
Chapter Five
When Kira woke the next day, she was more than vaguely uncomfortable. She blinked her eyes blearily, sitting up and wincing as her body groaned in protest. She realized somewhat belatedly that she had fallen asleep while reading through the Orlando diary, and as a result was slumped awkwardly on the couch.
"Good morning," Hercules said abruptly, and she jolted in surprise. She turned to face him, trying to soothe the pounding in her heart. He considered her with a casual smile as if waking up with a ghost in your house was the most natural thing in the world. She mused that she had done well not to shriek upon seeing a man in her usually empty apartment, let alone a ghost man. She shook off these thoughts, the pounding in her heart abating slightly. Hercules leaned in closer, examining her somewhat sickly looking expression. "Are you quite alright?" He inquired with a faint smirk, and she narrowed her eyes in slight irritation. He seemed all too entertained by her brief moment of fear, but when his eyes softened, and he reached out to gently touch her cheek, her aggravation faded.
“Sorry. Just… not used to company. Especially not the spectral sort,” she chuckled. He considered her with a tilt of his head that she found nothing short of adorable, seeming to consider his words before speaking.