I can't believe I'm actually doing this, Matthew thought to himself as he looked up at the decrepit two-story mansion. His brother, Alfred, dared him to explore the huge abandoned manor in their neighborhood. Of course, Matthew wouldn't listen to him based on the dare alone, so knowing this, Alfred included two front row tickets to his favorite hockey team. How his brother obtained the tickets was lost to him, but Matthew couldn't deny he wanted those seats with all his being.

The Canadian got off his bike and locked it onto the nearby lamppost. Double checking he had his cell phone and heavy-duty flashlight (which could also function as a weapon if need be), he pushed the stubborn metal gate just enough to slip past it.

The night was cold. A few gray clouds decorated the dark sky, the moon illuminating where it could. A small breeze crept over the young man, the chilly air causing goose bumps. He tugged the hood of his oversized red sweater closer to himself.

As the blond made his way to the entrance of the house, he scanned the area with his flashlight. He saw the dead front lawn covered in piles of weeds, dried up shrubs, and fallen branches. The tall wooden sticks were poor excuses for trees. He stuck to the negligible walkway in hopes of avoiding spiders and other creepy bugs he knew lived among the deserted land.

Climbing up the broken stone stairs, he stood in front of the door for a moment, going over his game-plan one final time.

"Okay, so we're gonna do this as fast as possible. Quickly walk through the mansion, take a few pictures, I think five should be enough, then hurry on home so I can get my tickets," his soft voice interrupting the natural sounds of the night. One deep breath later, he collected his thoughts and crossed the threshold.

The first thing Matthew noticed was how unbearably quiet it was, the only sounds coming from his footsteps. He ignored the stairs on the right leading to the second floor in favor of the living room straight ahead. He walked over to the large window and removed the makeshift curtain to let in some of the moonlight.

The second thing he noticed was the amount of furniture. He expected the manor to be completely barren, not that there was much, but there existed a piano in the corner next to the window and an armchair along with a small end table on the other side. Matthew observed the chipped paint and tattered wallpaper peeling off the walls, and the dusty wooden floor, yet the musical instrument, chair, and table were spotless.

His fingers brushed along the keys of the instrument, playing a few of them along the way. The hallow notes echoed throughout the building. He didn't know much about music, but he could tell the piano was surprisingly in tune.

Filing his questions for later, he used his phone to take a picture of himself in the living room, and then moved on.


Upstairs, the soft notes of the piano stirred the ghost from his stupor. It's not like he could sleep, but being in a state of near-unconsciousness was close enough. It took him a while to realize that the sound came from someone playing the piano and not from his imagination.

"Ugh, it better not be some punk kids again," the pale figure spoke aloud. It was always around the end of October that people, mainly children, would break into his home, trying to prove themselves courageous, or just simply wanting to be frightened.

"Whoever they are, I'll just scare them off. Kesesese~," his strange laugh bounced around the master bedroom. Despite the fact that the apparition found people annoying, he loved playing pranks on the stupid creatures. It never failed to put a smile on his face.

With that in mind, the ghost wandered down the halls, trying to locate his target.


The nineteen-year-old found himself in what he presumed to be the library. Books of all sizes lined the two opposite walls of the room. Upon closer inspection, he discovered they were notebooks, or rather journals, and they all started with the date and the phrase "I am awesome." What a strange person, he thought. Maybe this was their place. Matthew flipped through the pages in search of the owner's name but could find none.

Unaware of the other's presence, the supernatural being spotted the young man reading his diaries.

"How dare you read someone's private matters!" The ghost scolded him before he remembered his plans to prank the human.

Matthew squeaked at the sudden voice, dropping the book in the process. He turned his flashlight to the source. There was nothing there.

"Wh-wh-who said that?" He couldn't stop his voice from trembling.

That was when the spirit noticed the boy's features. Blond shoulder-length waves with a strange curl hanging in front of his face, deep purple eyes hidden behind glasses, soft facial features, the reflection of the light outlining his frame. He was shining in the dark.

Lost in his thoughts, it took a few seconds to remember that the cute stranger was scared. He floated away from the light to give himself definite form, then proceeded to walk towards the human.

"The awesome me! My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. Who are you?" He thought giving his actual name and making conversation would quell some of the cutie's fears.

"Oh, I thought I was the only one in here." Relief washed over him. "I'm Matthew Williams," he ended with a small wave.

Matthew found it odd that there was someone else in the mansion. He thought people only visited on Halloween day.

Who is he, really? And, why did he get mad over me reading a random book? Unless, he knows it's a diary. But how? Maybe he comes here regularly? Maybe this place belongs to someone he knows, like a friend or family member?

Endless questions plagued his mind, yet all he could do was stare at the older man.

Well, the stranger now known as Gilbert looked old due to his silver-white hair, but his wrinkle-free pale complexion and straight posture begged to differ. He looked to be a few inches shorter, yet he was much more built than the Canadian. The man's ruby red eyes seemed to pierce his very soul.

"So, what are you doing in a creepy place such as this," Gilbert suddenly asked.

"Long story short, my twin brother will give me tickets to a hockey game if I show him proof I came here. He actually dared me, but he knew I wouldn't do it without the extra bribe," he answered honestly.

Gilbert chuckled. "Another dare, then? People only come here for five reasons. One, on a dare, more popular during Halloween. Two, a test of courage, also popular during Halloween. Three, they like scary stuff. Four, to study the building or do a photoshoot, educational crap like that. And five, real estate agents trying to sell the place." He finished counting on his fingers.

"I take it you come here a lot, eh?"

You have no idea, the ghost inwardly laughed. "I practically live here."

More questions to add to the pile. Matthew could have just left it at that and gone home, in fact he should excuse himself right now, but there was something about Gilbert that made Matthew want to stay. It could also be because he found the man to be strikingly handsome.

He decided to not play it safe for once and get to know this mysterious person. Those tickets could wait.

"What do you mean you practically live here?"


It was strange, they both thought. Before Mattie, the ghost never liked humans. And Matthew, he couldn't believe there was someone who genuinely wanted to learn more about him. It was hard for him to make friends when ninety-five percent of the population deemed him invisible.

The two had moved to the rather empty living room and sat on the floor, a few lit candles surrounding them. They spoke about anything that crossed their minds: interesting facts about their backgrounds, odd family members, embarrassing experiences, favorite anythings and everythings. They even played a game called "Would You Rather." Gilbert came up with the more outrageous questions.

Once or twice, Matthew noticed how the light reflected off of Gil. With the subtle candlelight and the man's pale skin, it seemed as if he was glowing. The blond blushed slightly, thanking the low visibility.

Before he knew it, several hours had passed. Matthew looked at his phone to check the time, the bright screen temporarily blinding him.

"Oh, maple! It's already this late? I wish I could stay longer, but I have to head on home now," Matthew said as he stood up. "I wonder if my brother is worried sick or forgot about me again," he muttered, ending with a small sigh.

"Wait, don't go, Birdie," the words rushing out of his mouth. The ghost was having the time of his afterlife. He didn't want it to end so soon.

"Sorry, Gil. Maybe I can come back another day? I can stop by after my morning college class on Monday."

Oh, no, Gilbert internally panicked. I can't fool him with my solid form during sunlight. He'll totally be able to see through me.

"That'd be awesome. But, before you go, I need to tell you something," his nerves almost showing. He decided to trust this human. He desperately prayed his new companion will not abandon him after learning his secret.

He had only known him a few hours, but Gilbert's lack of playfulness told Matthew that this was extremely important.

"What is it?"

Gilbert stood up and took a deep breath. Then exhaled.

"All right. There's something you need to know about me . . ." Another breath. "I'm a ghost."

Matthew paused. Maybe he heard wrong? "Um, what did you say?"

"I said I am a ghost."

"A ghost? Like the spirits that come from the dead?"

"Yes."

Matthew wasn't sure what to think of this new revelation; he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or run away.

"Let's say I don't believe you. If you are a ghost, then why can I see you? And, how come you were able to pick up that book earlier?"

"Because I can solidify myself to appear human, but not completely. I can interact with the physical world when I'm in that state."

"Uhuh. You're insane," Matthew observed.

Gilbert handed him a nearby book he had started reading the day before, A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin. "Here. Throw this at me."

"What?"

"Yeah, just chuck it right at me," the ghost said while pointing at his chest.

"I think you're crazy, but I'm not going to hurt you."

He let out a frustrated groan. "Fine," he relented. "Okay, new idea. Don't move."

The blond had every reason to not trust this lunatic, yet he found himself standing still. Maybe, he secretly hoped his new friend was telling the truth.

It was quiet. The only audible sounds coming from their faint breathing. Gilbert slowly reached out to hold Matthew's hand. The teenager was growing nervous by the second, and it seemed like an eternity before the other touched him.

Suddenly, he felt a cold sensation rush through his hand, giving him chills up his arm and around his chest. Gilbert just slipped past him.

Matthew looked up, bewilderment radiating from his indigo eyes.

"Do you believe me now, Birdie," Gilbert asked, a hint of desperation leaking through his smug attitude.

"You really are a ghost . . ."

Gilbert was beyond ecstatic he didn't reject him. "Yeah! I'm awesome," he shouted.

It was impossible. Matthew didn't believe in the supernatural. Yet, here was Gilbert, cheering and floating around the room, flying through walls. He smiled at the ghost's antics.

"I really, really have to go now, Gil." Matthew reluctantly cut through his victory dance.

"You are visiting me soon, right?" He had to double check.

"Yes, I can swing by sometime in the afternoon in two days."

The ghost continued his previous dance routine. "Awesome!"

Matthew giggled. "Well, see you later, old man." He made his way towards the front door.

"Gasp, I'm not that old."

"Not according to your diaries." And with that, Matthew ran away.

"Hey you kid, get off my lawn!" Gilbert jokingly shook his fist in the air, ending their banter.

As Matthew rode his bike home at dawn, breezing through the twilight air, all he could think about was the overconfident, endearing ghost named Gilbert Beilschmidt and how he shined in the dark.


A/N: Thanks for reading! I tried to have this finished by Halloween, but life got in the way. Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed it. (Reviews are like candy. I like candy.)

I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, nor any of its characters. All rights go to Hidekaz Himaruya.