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Phantom, Danny
The story you know from the very beginning.
…and from a slightly different point of view.
Chapter 2: The Reckoning
-Day 5-
Pulling himself back together enough to find out what the human was doing was exhausting. Shooting noises filled his ears. He peered blearily at a computer screen, watching the little flickering lights of the game.
He'd never seen a computer before - hadn't even known that they existed before this moment. But when he saw the screen and the lights, he'd known instantly what it was: a computer game. It took a second for him to process the idea that knowledge had just been dumped into his consciousness. But by whom?
The human?
The sounds and lights were definitely attention grabbing. He watched, intrigued but tired, for a short while. Rather quickly, the repetitive nature of the game wore thin. Shoot, get shot at, duck and run, shoot some more. He sighed, bored, and poked at the human mind, not trying to take over the body again. He dropped the 'scary ghost' act and went for plaintive and tired. Why do you not let me leave?
-Startled!-
He felt the hands twitch, then reach out and pause the game. "You're still here?" it asked softly. The human mind bordered on scared, but the sharp edge to the emotion had dulled.
Where else can I go? he whispered. I want to go home. His mind drifted to the gentle green of his world, the faint buzzing of energy, the soft swirls of the mists, and the whispers that ran along with the wind. It was unending. Seamless. Eternal. Peaceful. He closed his eyes tightly and curled up around the memories, desperate longing filling his mind.
"It's been days," the human was saying, seemingly unaware of his drifting thoughts. "I thought you were gone."
He let out a soft groan and relaxed his tightly curled body. I tried. I could not leave, he admitted after a moment.
The human started to tap its finger against the computer's mouse. The distracting sensation of touch, no touch, touch, no touch, started to grind on his nerves.
"Where have you been?" it asked.
I was tired, he said. You are keeping me trapped-
A quick shake of its head and a roll of its eyes brought his comment to a stop. -Annoyed- swirled out of the human, nearly drowning out the fear. "I'm not keeping you here," the human said. "I think it's pretty obvious we both want you out of my head."
The feel of the mouse against its finger finally made him reach out and take control of the hand, stopping the endless tapping.
"Don't do that," the human said, -Anxious- tinting its soul.
I may do what I wish, he shot back. I am trapped in here.
It scowled and crossed its arms, snatching control of its hand back easily. "Well, how do we get you out of my head then?"
Silence filled the room for a long time, broken only by the occasional sounds from the computer. I do not know, he finally admitted. I just wish to leave. Memories of his home curled through him again – stronger this time. The dark feel of his hole, his lair. The whispers of emotion that drifted past.
"What is that?"
What? He jerked out of his thoughts to focus on the human.
"The green. And the mist, and the doors…" It trailed off. "It felt-"
Those are my memories! Fear and anger burst into his mind. The human could see what he was thinking…? Stay out!
He pulled back from the human's mind, wrapping himself in his darkest memories and curling up in the furthest, darkest corner of the human's mind, barely registering the -Surprise!- in the human's mind. He could hear it talking – faintly – but he didn't bother to answer.
Perhaps he could wait out the human's life and leave when it died.
Living things all died eventually… right?
.
.2.
.
-Day 5-
"Ghost?"
The human's voice kept breaking through the darkness he'd attempted to hide inside. He curled up even tighter, hoping to keep away from the thick, lumbering thing that had captured him.
Over the time he'd spent as a ghost, he'd often imagined his demise. As a tiny, pathetic little scrap of a spirit, there were many ways he could be destroyed. He'd generally thought the end would come from the larger, quicker, shadow-things that prowled his homeland… not this odd, fleshy beast. It was truly a monster: not even civil enough to let him stew for the rest of eternity. The other ghosts would have. Back home, the offense of bothering another's afterlife could result in utter destruction – if the offended one existed long enough to protest.
"Ghost?"
The voice had gotten much louder. It now echoed and was almost painful.
What? he finally snapped back, opening his eyes long enough to see the human was still sitting in its bedroom at its computer.
"You're giving me a headache," it said. -Annoyed- drifted through its mind.
Pausing, he blinked at the human, distracted by the idea of a headache. Ghosts did not feel pain. He didn't feel pain, didn't even know what it was before a few days ago. However, now that the human had brought it up, there was a faint… something… running through his mind. Was this a headache?
I do not feel pain, he told the human after a moment.
"Well I do," it shot back, "so stop doing whatever it is you're doing."
He sat still a moment, thinking that through. A tiny twinge of guilt ran through him at the thought of causing the human harm. He didn't like the fleshy, disgusting thing he was trapped inside, but he didn't mean to damage it. It didn't seem to be the human's fault he was locked inside of it. I will stop, he said plainly, if you have come up with a plan to free me.
It shot a glance at the clock, a feeling of incredulity exploding in its brain. "In the last twenty minutes?"
The fact that so little time had passed brought him up short. It was startling how long things took, now that he understood what time was. He let out a dark, frustrated sound. I do not want this… he whispered, closing his eyes and doing his best to ignore the human world. But he didn't curl up in the way that had hurt the human earlier.
As the sounds of the computer game started to enter his consciousness, he sighed. I do not want this…
.
.2.
.
-Day 5-
He waited, only half paying attention to the human's world as the long day wore on. When the human went to eat supper, he blocked out the disgusting sensation of eating with a ferocious intensity – regardless of whether or not the human would feel pain from it. If it did not wish to feel pain each time it ate, it could cease the nauseating ritual. There was no reason he could think of for anyone – regardless of being human – to wish to ingest matter. The human would be better off if he could break it of the habit.
The next time he uncurled enough to find out what was happening in the world, the human had fallen asleep. He lay in the dark, feeling the strange emptiness of the human's mind after it had curled up in bed. It was pulled away, thinking random things – dreams, he supposed – and had just left its body lying there.
He was little more than a scrap of a ghost, and shouldn't be thinking things like possessing humans and trying their forms on for size. But there he was, trapped in this human's mind, forced to deal with all those sickening human practices… It was a sort of reward, perhaps. To feel what it would be like to be alive and human.
Keeping a close watch on the human's sleeping mind, he reached out and grabbed hold of the form. There was absolutely no resistance. Grinning slightly, he slowly sat the body up in bed and looked around the darkened room.
The human mind didn't stir.
He ran his fingers together, then a hand through his hair, shuddering at the alien sensations of movement and touch. The feel of the human's body actually shuddering brought him up short. He was well and truly in charge of the entire form. It was no longer the human's. It was his.
Breath crept in and out of his mouth and nose – he could feel it against the sensitive skin on his lips. There was something odd about being required to take in air from the outside world. He could hear his heart beating. Cautiously, hesitating any time the human mind seemed to be waking up, he stood.
His breath hitched. A strange wave of excitement flooded through him as he crept towards the door to the human's bedroom. He shook his head at the exhilarating sensation of human emotions and hormones, unable to keep down the smile. Pulling open the door, he saw the house was quiet and dark. Only small lights from the outside world and a tiny hallway light illuminated the walls and floor. "Wow," he whispered, then froze, startled by the sound of his own voice.
But nothing woke. Nothing moved. He slowly made his way down the hallway, trailing his fingers over the slightly bumpy walls. A shiver ran down his spine at the feel of the wall under his fingertips, at the soft sensation of clothes brushing his skin. There was a chill in the air, a breeze coming from the open windows that caused goosebumps to rise on his skin.
He was going to stop to feel the goosebumps when the sight of the outside world caught his gaze. "Oh, wow," he breathed, walking closer. Gone was the bright, colorful, distracting, and noisy world the human inhabited. Gone was the world that caused him so much distress.
Darkness and shadows covered everything. The colors had faded to dark blues and purples, muted shades of gray and black. Faint chirpings and whispers of sound were all the noise that broke the stillness of the world. And the sky was filled with tiny pinpricks of light that sparkled and shone.
Pushing open the window, he leaned out and stared around, grinning with delight. This he could handle. This was something he could almost come to enjoy. After he was freed of this body, of this cage, he would go home and tell all the others about this version of the human world. This thing called night.
"Sweetie? What are you doing up?"
He froze at the sound of a human's voice. Slowly pulling himself back into the house, he glanced over his shoulder at the human standing behind him. It was holding a cup and wearing a long, dark-colored piece of clothing. Fear sparkled inside of him – an unwelcome sensation of his stomach dropping and claws digging into his body.
"Go back to bed," it said with a smile. "You have a long day tomorrow."
When it came closer and put its arms around him, he held himself stiff and still. The feel of its warmth against him, its disgusting fleshy processes near his body… it took all his willpower to not break away and run as fast as this human body could carry him. It finally pulled away, rubbed a hand through its hair, and vanished down the hallway.
Shaking, he made his way back to the human's bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him and settling down onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around him, curled up into a ball on the bed, and then buried himself under the human's blanket, surprised to find that made him feel slightly safer. Surely the human things wouldn't come in here and touch him again.
He lay there, watching the night pass by through the window, and came to the decision that this wondrous thing – darkness and night – wasn't enough to make up for the fact that there were humans contaminating this world.