Title: Ghost
Author: sss979
Rating: G
Summary: Face is haunted. Short.
Warnings: None
One would think I'd grown out of superstition a long time ago - the werewolf in the closet, the monster under the bed. But after 45 years, a war, and more than a decade on the receiving end of a nationwide manhunt, I still have superstitious fears. Then again, maybe I'm looking at it wrong. Maybe those things are the very reasons why I hold onto that fear of the dark, that fear of being alone. Maybe they're the very reason why I believe in ghosts.
I know it's foolish. The words echo in my mind. "Templeton, there's no such thing as ghosts." Comforting, at the time. If Father Maghill said it, it was truth. Too bad he's not around to write truth into my mind now. At least, not in a way that I could actually believe it.
I don't want to believe in things I can't see. Experience has taught me that I have enough to deal with in what I CAN see. Guns and explosions, manipulation and a life-altering roll of the dice – my everyday life would make most men insane. No need to complicate the matter further. No, I certainly didn't choose to feel this way, to believe this way. This ghost chose me. And it hounds me…
It's the thing that chases me down the dark streets at night, when there's no one behind me. It's the invisible gaze that tracks me through a crowd and makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It's the whisper of shadows in a dark, empty hotel room. It's the voice that cries in the silent night, the violent rape of pleasant dreams, the wall between you and me. The heat of its embrace follows a brush with death, and the hollow tone of its voice echoes in the sighs of nameless, meaningless women.
I can't shake it. It's always there – a step behind me and just out of sight. Just out of reach. Lurking. Following me everywhere. It's in the breath I breathe, the blood in my veins. It's in the tears that can never be shed.
The ghost of a soldier.
The ghost of the man in the mirror.