by Tia Wylder
“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 the 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.
“I’m surprised you don’t entertain… guests, often,” he said haltingly. She watched him with a quirked brow for a moment, seeming to process his words.
“You mean, you’re surprised I don’t sleep around?” She said, though her tone made it obvious she was teasing. Much to her surprise, it seemed that even ghosts could blush. His translucent cheeks were tinged slightly red, and she barked out an amused laugh.
“I did not mean to imply,” he began, but she shook her head as she continued to chuckle, waving him off entirely.
"It's fine, honey. I'm just having a bit of fun with you," she smiled, turning her attention to the diary that still lay open on the coffee table in front of her. It took a moment, but what she had read the night previous soon washed over her once more. However, she realized with some disappointment that she had yet to find anything pertinent as of yet. Hercules seemed to notice her enervated demeanor and wrapped a warm arm around her shoulder.
“I suppose your readings weren’t as productive as you would have liked,” he murmured, and she breathed a sigh in response.
“It’s just…,” she trailed off for a moment, not wanting to reveal the difficulty she was having. Truth be told, she could have likely scoured the entire book in a few hours, but something was holding her back. “I’m a slow reader,” she lied, and Hercules smiled good-naturedly.
"That's quite alright. Never been much of a literary enthusiast, myself," he rumbled, drawing away from her and looking at the scrawled writing in the book. "It's altogether illegible, in my eyes. I'm surprised you're able to make anything out at all," he added as an afterthought, making to flip through the pages. As he reached out to the book, the table began to shake, and the book rose up several inches. A loud
screeching sound permeated the entire apartment, and Kira's eyes widened in a panic. The book snapped shut, and as Hercules drew his hand away, they could make out a voice amongst the screeching. Kira could just barely make out the words ‘the cursed one' before the screeching abruptly halted. The diary flew off of the table, hitting the wall opposite them with a dull thud.
“Lord,” Kira blurted, watching the book with something akin to fear in her eyes.
"I did not expect such a reaction," Hercules admitted, drawing his hands towards himself. After a moment of silence, Kira rose from the sofa to approach the fallen diary. As she picked it up, the book fell open to a page that seemed to be written in some sort of red ink. She squinted at the diary, struggling to make out the words. She couldn't make out the language the words were written in, however, a stark difference from the rest of the diary which was written in plain English.
“This is strange,” she murmured, touching her fingertips to the page. The ink still felt almost damp, as if the words had been freshly written. Fortunately, however, they did not smudge beneath her touch. “Honestly, Hercules, this looks like some kind of freaky cult stuff. What was your family involved in?” She inquired shakily, placing the diary back on the coffee table. She seemed relieved to put it down for the time being, though she knew she would have to resume her studies at some point. Hercules glanced at her with a tight-lipped frown, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“My family would never be involved in the occult. That’s absurd,” he said icily. Kira narrowed his eyes towards him, and he shrunk away. “At least, I would have thought it absurd, had I not seen it with my own eyes,” he admitted reluctantly, looking at the diary with uncertainty in his gaze. “Do you recognize the language those pages are written in?” He inquired softly. She hesitated for a long moment before shaking her head.
“I don’t. But I know someone who might,” she said reluctantly. Hercules tilted his head curiously, and Kira breathed a sigh of obvious irritation. “My auntie, she considers herself much more in touch with her… roots. Voodoo, mysticism, that sort of junk. I’d never put a lot of stock in it. I thought the things I read in my books were just stories, not rooted in truth. But… well. You put a wrench in that thought process,” she admitted.
“If you are uncomfortable seeing her,” Hercules began, but she was swift to cut him off.
“I suppose it’s only right I give her a chance, especially if she might be able to help us with all this,” she muttered. He nodded mutely, fidgeting as she picked up the diary, marking the page that it had flipped open to. She closed it carefully, the sounds of shrieking still resonating in her head. “I’ll get dressed, and then we can go. But I must warn you, my auntie may seem a little strange. Even to a ghost...”
Chapter Six
Fortunately, it just so happened to be Kira’s day off work. It was odd how things fell into place like that, but she wasn’t complaining. She carried the diary tucked under her arm as she strode out into the parking lot. Hercules remained close to her side, and she was struck by the odd sensation of being simultaneously chilled and warmed. She considered her car for a moment, shaking her head and continuing to the sidewalk.
"I could use a workout. I'm getting a little too much booty," she grumbled, and Hercules could only laugh in response.
"I wasn't aware there was such a thing as too much booty. I personally think yours is rather nice," he said boldly. She felt her cheeks grow warm at the open flirtation but tried to pay it little mind. Getting turned on by a ghost was the last of her priorities. She was vaguely aware that he began to lag behind her, if only slightly. She could feel his eyes upon her and struggled to keep her embarrassment to herself. It wasn't as if he could actually make love to her, so his appreciation was negligible at best. At least, she didn't suppose that was possible. It wasn't something she would turn down, though the ethics of making love to a ghost were arguable at best.
Reddening, she tried to shake off those thoughts. She could scarcely believe she was entertaining such crass imaginings in the first place. She could only blame the ghost of a man who floated along just behind her. She began to walk at a swifter pace, increasingly eager to get to her auntie’s house. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust Hercules, it was more that she could not trust herself. She’d never felt this way about a man before, and it was just her luck that their time would likely be very limited.
“Is there something on your mind, Kira?” He murmured, falling into place beside her once more. She considered him from the corner of her eye, and he looked briefly ashamed. “I should not have been so bold. I will try to contain myself,” he apologized, and her eyes widened in surprise.
“No, n-no. That’s fine. It’s not a problem, Hercules. Really,” she said earnestly, feeling her face grow warm once more. “This is just… uncharted territory for me,” she explained, and he rumbled a soft laugh.
"I imagine it would be uncharted territory for most people. I suppose ghosts don't have a tendency to flirt with the living," he chuckled. She smiled to herself, keeping silent about the fact that she'd never felt this way about anyone before-- ghost or otherwise. She was drawn from her thoughts as she realized they were growing nearer her auntie's house. She swallowed the sense of unease creeping up the back of her throat, jolting in surprise as the front door to the small home was thrown open. An older woman with graying hair flew out the front door, smiling a nearly toothless grin.
"Kira, honey! I was wondering when you would finally show up," the older woman crowed, and Kira could only smile awkwardly in response. "And Hercules, you as well. I've been waiting for the two of you," the older woman continued, addressing the ghost man. Kira's eyes bulged from her head, and she exchanged a look with the man at her side.
“You… You can see me as well?” He inquired hesitantly, stepping towards the other woman. She watched him with amusement dancing in her eyes, and her smile only seemed to grow.
“Oh, you’ll find that Auntie has a lot of tricks up her sleeve, young man,” the older woman say cryptically. She turned her attention to Kira, gesturing to the diary held gripped in her hand. “Bring that on inside, I’ll make some tea for us. At least, those of us among the living,” she said with a booming laugh. Kira watched as her auntie turned her back upon the two of them, slipping back inside her small and relatively run down house. Hercules hesitated at the door, looking to her for assurance that she wasn’t certain she could give. Though she hadn’t known what to expect, she certainly could have never expected this.
"I suppose we should head inside. Maybe we'll get some answers," Kira murmured. The ghost man nodded his agreement but was clearly uneasy about being seen by someone besides the woman at his side. Kira stepped through the front door, Hercules floating behind her. The lights inside the home were dimmed, but it was just bright enough to make out the odd trinkets scattered across the older woman's house. Animal bones were strung up along the walls, punctuated by skulls above every doorway. There was a weird herbal smell that permeated the building, and Kira could only hope it was the tea her auntie had mentioned. She wasn't particularly fond of tea, sweet tea being the exception, but she could only wonder what the scent would if not tea. Hercules seemed rather uneasy in the home as well, and Kira had to swallow a snort as his face twisted in disdain at the strange decor.
"Children, children, come on in the kitchen," Kira's Auntie called, and Kira swallowed her nervousness, following the sound of the other woman's voice. The kitchen was a bit brighter than the rest of the house, with lit candles scattered across every surface. A cup of warm tea waited for Kira at the table, and she breathed a sigh, lifting the cup to her lips and taking a sip. It had a rather earthy taste but was not altogether unpleasant.
“How… how did you know we were coming?” Hercules inquired softly. Kira’s Auntie offered him another toothless smile.
"Tell me, Hercules. Just how much do you know about curses?" She said slyly. Glass shattered as Kira's cup dropped to the floor.
/> Chapter Seven
Once the shattered remains of Kira's tea cup were swept away, her auntie returned to the room with an amused expression. Nothing seemed to phase the older woman, but Kira was apparently alarmed by the idea of any sort of curse. Hercules didn't seem particularly confident either, but he also seemed reluctant to take the older woman for her word.
“You were always such a clumsy little thing, baby,” Kira’s Auntie smiled, and Kira’s cheeks grew warm from embarrassment. “With that incident out of the way, and…,” the older woman paused, considering her niece. “With no breakables in Kira’s hand, let’s continue our little conversation, shall we? Hercules, dear, what do you know about curses? Specifically, the Orlando family curse?” She hummed, stirring her tea for a long moment before taking a sip. Hercules and Kira exchanged glances, and the ghost man cleared his throat before speaking.
“I’m sorry miss, ah…,” he paused, and the older woman smirked.
"Just call me Auntie, child," she crooned. His face twisted in uncertainty, but Kira gave him a slight nudge. It was evident he was in no place to argue.
“Alright… Auntie. I must apologize, but I’ve never heard of such a curse. I’ve always been told curses were old folk stories,” Hercules murmured. Kira’s Auntie nodded, resuming stirring her tea.
“Of course, dear. That’s what people would have you believe. After all, if people thought curses were real, don’t you think they’d spend a lot more effort trying to resolve them?” She retorted. Hercules seemed at a loss for words, so Kira stepped in to take over.
“So… you think Hercules is cursed? Is that why he’s a ghost?” Kira inquired softly. She set the diary on the table, and it began to quake violently as Kira’s Auntie drew it towards herself. She tapped the cover, once, twice, then the diary fell open to the very page Kira had marked. Auntie hummed to herself as she read over the pages, speaking in tongues that neither Kira nor Hercules could understand. After a long moment, Auntie fell silent and the words on the pages began to fade.