Ghost in a Shell ~
His first request as victor is to see her body – assuming they haven't disposed of it yet. But no, the Capital, so wasteful with everything else, has preserved her, has pickled her in a tank in the labs. Maysilee Donner is dead, and still, he places his hands and cheek against the glass as if expecting her to wake up and respond. The only reaction he gets though is the churning of fluid inside the tank, which begins to feel heated as if it's boiling, as if they're cooking Maysilee, and why is he still standing there, letting them do that as if he's on their side – a gloved hand clamps down on his shoulder.
"Haven't you seen enough?"
He's escorted out and feels relieved when they tell him that he can go back home finally. He has nothing to pack and waits for the train impatiently until their stylist approaches him and silently presses Maysilee's gold pin, her token, into his palm. A trinket is no replacement for a body, but he brings it back to her family anyway. Her parents thank him, but her sister, who comes out in a nightgown but doesn't look as if she has slept, gazes at the pin and falls to the ground, screaming and then howling like a feral thing. "Headache," her mother says quickly while her father wrestles her into his arms before hauling her back to the house and locking her in the room that now has an extra bed.
Haymitch does not believe in resurrection, but he has heard about what kind of experiments the Capital's scientists are capable of, about things that he does not understand and yet induce a tremor. Cloning. Splicing. Hybridization. In the subsequent years when his presence is demanded at the Capital, he sees Maysilee's eyes in numerous faces, not all of them human; she morphs from the Avox that is serving him to the courtesan below him to the newly manufactured monstrosity set loose into the arena.
Haymitch does not believe in ghosts, but he comes back home, drunk and ashamed because he imbibes every flavor of liquor (they call it elixir) offered in the Capital, and sees Maysilee welcoming him home. He's not drunk, it's just a headache, and Maysilee soothes it away with ethereal touches, her kiss, a swipe of feather to his temple.
"I'm not crazy," she murmurs. "You should know."
He stumbles back, pushes her away, there's the familiar taste of vomit coating his throat.
Her twin, her double, smiles at him. "You see her too, don't you?"