Chapter 2: The Street where We Meet

Death. What is death? In its essence, death is the cessation of life. It is a natural occurrence, ingrained deep and connected with the concept of existence itself.

Existence, an idea which is more often than not, equated to life. But what is life?

Rey heaved a heavy sigh, deliberately stopping herself from making her simple questions turn into a full blown mental discussion on existentialism. It might take forever to be able to understand what life and death is really all about, but she's not going to delve into that. Rather, her analysis is so much simpler. Rey would think that life and death are not so much of a paradox but an intermingled pair. Like two sides of a coin, as long as there is life, there will always be death.

A small scoff escaped Rey's lips as she laughed at herself for suddenly being philosophical. Her eyes then followed a wave of onlookers, gossipers, and/or concerned citizens racing towards the platform of the subway station. She herself was standing on the same platform, people bumping her here and there to reach the on going commotion. Despite the ongoing ruckus, she stood perfectly still.

Just like every commuter in this busy city, she too was patiently waiting for the train, one that she guessed is never going to arrive. She guessed right, for the PA system of the station rang in alarm. After the deafening noise, a soft spoken lady announced that the operation of the Aldera Metro Rail is indefinitely delayed due to a technical difficulty. Technical difficulty, meaning, someone jumped on the subway tracks, with an oncoming train slamming on that person's body. What's worse, the now crushed carcass is now stuck underneath the train's parts, preventing the same from moving.

Rey stared blankly at the platform, that the shrieks and screams of onlookers, the murmurs and cries for help, and the distant sound of ambulance sirens became nothing more but background noise. Somebody just died (she was lucky she didn't get to see the act itself), but just the mere thought of death should send her in a turmoil of different emotions.

But she felt nothing.

She felt empty

If she was most people, — a person with no inclining with the supernatural whatsoever — an untimely death of another would have been the ultimate shocker. But dying, as she already thought of earlier, is the most natural thing. The mere cessation of life made her indifferent; it left her numb. It's not anymore surprising. It's not even terrifying. What these onlookers need to understand is that there is nothing to fear in death itself. It's what that comes after demise that should terrify them.

—

Most people believe in the afterlife, heaven and hell, reincarnation or whatnot. Whatever belief each human being have, whatever religion, whatever philosophy, it all boils down to one conclusion — there is life after death. And as for this person who just committed suicide, Rey can only guess for him: Maybe he has a form of an unmedicated and unsupervised mental illness, his own hormones and the hardwires of his brain betraying him, causing him to ultimately end his life. Or maybe he decided to die because he believed in the afterlife too—thinking that his life after death will be better than his current living conditions.

Then again, Rey could be wrong. After all, there are reasons why people do the things they do. One thing's for sure though, if the man (who is now dead as a doornail) thought that his circumstances would be better if he dies, then he's mistaken.

He's wrong. Dead wrong.

You see, the afterlife doesn't exist; heaven and hell? An eternal place of rest? Those are all bullshit. If such places were real, there is no need for the dead to linger in this earth. After dying, these souls would have gone straight to where ever they should be going. And just like stories from every religion, there should be angels, demons, gods of death, or even grim reapers, assisting them towards the holy (or unholy, chose what you want to believe) place where they belong. But in the ten years Rey saw the souls of the departed, not one entity, clothed in white with majestic wings, came flying down from the skies to collect their souls; neither is there a being who rises up from the depths, one who is depicted in the tales of old having long horns and sharp fangs, that would carry the dead to hell; no cloaked skeletons harboring a giant scythe to fetch them; no death god, dressed in all black, guiding the dead to wherever. Instead, what happens, is as simple as the occurrence that is currently unraveling in front of her (now) cursed eyes: They continue to die. Like a vicious and wicked cycle, those who died will keep on repeating the event that caused their demise.

Rey shuddered. From the corner of her exhausted hazel eyes, she caught a glimpse of the exact same man who jumped on the subway tracks. He was several meters on her left, patiently waiting for a train. But unlike when his heart was still beating, or when his peachy flesh ran hot with the rush blood, and his body solid and opaque, the man in question was pale; he was translucent. What's worse, the physical injuries he acquired from getting ran over by the metal transportation were present.

He was missing an arm. And while there was no red liquid oozing from the source of the injury, the remnants of his now broken flesh gruesomely hanged from his shoulder joint. His skull had been split in half; the part which still connects to his neck, crushed. The other half separated from the rest of his face; his eyeball dangling onto the remains of what used to be his cheek, with only a thin string of muscle fiber preventing it from separating from the rest of his body.

The man's state had been deplorable as it was revolting. Rey wanted to outrightly vomit at the repulsive sight, yet for some reason, she could not look away. Instead, she slowly turned her head to the side, watching in pity as the man, with the heaviest steps, walked towards the edge of the platform. He jumped on the tracks soon after, his translucent body disappearing from Rey's vantage point. In a split second, he was back on the platform, waiting for another chance to jump. His mechanical movements went on and on; the unending sequence repeating once, twice, until Rey's insides churned rabidly inside her stomach, leaving her with no choice but to look away.

When her already throbbing head began to pound violently on her skull, Rey figured that it's time to leave. Coupled with the vibrations in her brain, her heart palpitated in uneasiness. The sheer fright of it all made her subconscious and conscious mind signal of what was yet to come. True, the dead repeat the events of how they died, but that's not all. That repetitive occurrence does not last long, especially when she's around.

With terror and apprehension, Rey told herself to move. She needed to get out, move as far away from the dead man on the tracks. Because at anytime, any fucking moment now, the man's ghost will, for one whatever reason or another, figure out that she knows. Just like the ghost in her apartment, they know that she could see them. And that's how her wretched hauntings begin.

She should have ran; hide, or whatever. But Rey was a second too late, for her worst fears came true. The disfigured spirit that should be jumping on the tracks anytime now, suddenly broke his cycle. Instead, he stood, unmoved; his gruesome head (or what remains of it), turning slowly towards Rey's direction.

They locked eyes. They just fucking had to. And as pathetic and pitiful as she was, Rey stupidly froze in place; her (already) tear-stricken eyes latching on to the spirit's broken face.

Tension rose straight to Rey's head, her breath stuck on her throat. Struggling to start with small broken steps, Rey forced herself to move backwards. With an agitated hiss, she clumsily pivoted her heel, finally making a run for it.

Rey's stubborn worn out office heels made it difficult to move. She tripped twice in panic, almost propelling her artist's portfolio in the air. She should have chosen to wear flat shoes for her interview, but no. She wanted to be presentable. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, scolding herself. There's no time for regret, and completely no point in lamenting her choice of footwear. The more pressing issue is that she needed to find a safe space, away from the detection of these beings.

Judging from the way the little hairs on her body stood in alarm, Rey knew that she was already being followed. But she did not dare to look back. Just like her apartment ghost, the dead man on the train... he is going to hurt her too.

He's coming. She needed to run.

Skipping two steps at a time, Rey retreated at full speed towards the entrance of the station. She made her way towards the street, never stopping at any circumstance.

The street —a place full of pedestrians; a wide space in the city where the blinding sunlight could reach; a location definitely far away from the dead man's ghost and distant from the eerie darkness of the subway. With people and the sun serving as a protection, she should be safe.

Rey reached the pavement, eyes searching for solace from her living nightmare. She felt a little secure, seeing passersby, although oblivious to her situation, walk along the sidewalk. But an onslaught of terror rose from her chest; like a tidal wave, pure trepidation drowned her whole. She heard a shrill hiss whispering from behind her, making her whip her head towards the source of the noise. But there was nothing; there was no translucent entity, just busy pedestrians.

The fact that she heard something, yet saw nothing made her chest rise and fall in panic. Soon, she was choking on her own air, struggling to even breathe; the oxygen that should have reached her brain did not make it there. The city began to fade in her eyes. Her world spun; her vision blurred.

"Miss, are you okay?" A kind stranger in the busy street asked her.

Rey blinked, struggling to find her footing. The good samaritan placed her hand on her shoulder, attempting to assist her. But Rey smacked the kind woman's hand, "Don't touch me!" she screamed in horror as she ran away again.

Fuck. She cursed to herself, tears now streaming on her eyes. She didn't mean to be ungrateful, but... the woman who tried to help her... she... she had no face.

Fuck!

Rey turned her head in every direction. Each person — that should be opaque and solid — suddenly morphed into featureless creatures. They had no eyes, no nose; no anything. They began to look translucent. She's surrounded by unholy beings!

Enough, she screamed in her head as she cried. This is not real, she convinced herself. Everything is all in her head.

"Psst." Rey had not yet recovered with her panic-induced delusion when a voice, shrill and menacing whispered on her ear. She was running still, but the sound was close; too fucking close on her ear, like it was there with her as she ran.

Rey covered her ears desperately, but no matter how hard she pressed on her hearing organ, the voice followed her everywhere.

"Psst."

"Stop!" Rey finally voiced her pleas.

A useless effort, for the voice continued.

"Psst."

"Psst!"

With an awful realization, Rey skidded on the pavement, forcing herself to stop. She helplessly dropped her hands to her sides, standing still in the middle of the sidewalk.

There is no escape from these entities, it should be very clear by now. She remembered how ineffective her sacred relics were; or how fruitless her efforts in trying to turn on her fluorescent lights. She did everything in her power to deter these beings: prayers, statues, holy mantras — they were all futile. No matter how fast she runs; no matter what religion she believes in, nothing can stop them.

Her moment of contemplation did not last long. As soon as she stopped running, the disfigured ghost of the man on the train materialized several meters away her. Nothing can stop them, she thought again as Rey and the ghost stared at each other for seconds; seconds that felt like eternity.

Nothing can stop them, as she helplessly stared back. Nothing... except maybe death itself.

Death — the concept that she took for granted ever since she was able to see the departed, it might be the answer to all her problems. With her world turning into a shit show, she came up with a very dangerous solution — an idea fuelled by pure helplessness and desperation.

Rey sniffed hard, wiping a tear with the back of her palm. She curled her fists tight that she felt her nails burn on her skin. No, she scolded herself. Self-inflicted death is never a solution. She was born to be a fighter. She knew she is stronger than this. But a wicked smile etched from the dead man's lips; his disfigured body slowly floating towards her. He was laughing at her; seemingly enjoying the sight of her frightened state.

That rotten and tormenting grin finally broke her. From that point on, Rey knew she's not as strong as she thought she was. She finally gave in, thinking that dying might not be so bad after all.

Rey stood silently in the middle of the sidewalk, lifting her head up to the sky. She inhaled deep, watching the fluffy white clouds as they gracefully traversed the deep blue sky. How long has it been since she appreciated these simple things? She can't remember. And maybe, in her lifetime, she won't be able too. Not anymore. Those ten years have been enough. She tried fighting; she did everything. But she is now too tired to fight; too exhausted with her life. She so weary. She just wants this to stop. Maybe the man on the train (when he was still alive) had made the right choice after all. If death would make these hauntings leave her, then she wouldn't mind dying. Repeatedly.

Once more, Rey brought her attention to the dead man in front of her, a haughty grin forming in her lips. The way she bared her teeth was wicked and seemingly insane, that for the quickest moment, she thought that the entity had become afraid of her. But she brushed it off, her vision tunnelling at the busy intersection meters away from her.

It was a mistake that she survived her accident ten years ago. Maybe the universe was warning her back then. It was trying to protect her; giving her a sign; a kind gesture —telling her that needed to die that moment, or else her already godforsaken life would become more miserable.

She gets it now. And she's sorry, for not being able to understand what the universe had been telling her. Rey began to cry once more— an ugly sob coursing through her throat. She didn't know if these were happy tears, or if she's weeping in regret for a short-lived life. But she didn't place too much thought on it because she need not worry anymore. She won't be frightened any longer.

It will be over soon.

With quick steps, Rey moved through the sidewalk. She mindlessly bumped people as she made her way towards the edge of the street, her shoulder brushing them.

"Shit!" A annoyed voice of a man roared, "will you watch where you're going, please?" He continued sarcastically.

Rey felt hot liquid trickle on her arm as she passed him by. For a moment, her tear-stricken eyes stared at the black stain on her office blazer; her nose smelling the familiar scent of coffee. The man she bumped, she spilled his drink.

A absentminded smirk escaped her lips, it was kind of a de javu from ten years ago. But ironically, unlike a decade back where it was her who was accidentally hit by a stranger, their positions are now reversed.

"Hey!" He called her out once more. Rey heard his protests, but not really, for she continued to walk towards the edge of the sidewalk.

It was the final push at life for the stoplight from where she stood turned red. The car horns blared continuously when she started to cross, one vehicle successful at missing her. But there was one, a ten wheeler truck, speeding too fast. She won't miss that one. Rey made one last inhale, readying herself from the pain.

For the first time in a long time, she finally smiled.

—

Rey blinked several times, confused. She's finally dead. She should be, by now... but it doesn't feel like it. There was no pain; neither did she feel her body flung in the air. Did she die that fast? Is death this easy? More importantly, does death really smell like coffee?

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" A familiar voice made Rey snap back to reality — the reality that her miserable life is not yet over.

"Let go!" Rey hissed, pathetically reaching for the back collar of her office suit to shrug the stranger off. Her efforts were futile; like a kitten being pulled by a much larger feline, the person dragged her towards the safe portion of the sidewalk, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

"Apologize." He said as he pulled her back.

"For what?" Rey snarled, relentlessly pushing forward. She needed to go back to the street; she needed to die. Just give her the fucking death she wants, for goodness sake! She whined in her head.

"For drenching me with coffee!" The man growled, pointing the obvious, as he dragged her further backwards.

Rey clicked her tongue in irritation. This man whom she accidentally spilled his coffee to was behind her, speaking non-sense, while tightly clutching the back of her worn out blazer.

Their tug-of-war seemed endless, the two of them stubbornly not giving in. Finally, Rey did a one hundred eighty degree spin, making the man's arms twist. He groaned in pain, loosening his grip. Rey took the opportunity to yank his hand away from her blazer. The successful attempt made her smirk, but the curl of her lips abruptly turned into terror. She cringed, freezing in place. Her mouth gaped open in fright for the train ghost, he... he was behind the man... his translucent chin casually resting on the man's shoulder. The dead latched on him, one arm disgustingly hugging him. But that's not all, the ghost was smiling wickedly. Again.

The terror that disappeared with the thought of death shot back through Rey's body. "Whatever you do, don't fucking move." She hissed a warning at the man who smelled like coffee, staring straight at his shoulder blade. Rey didn't know why the hell she said that. Her mind was telling her to run, but for some reason, the words just suddenly flowed like a word vomit.

Rey watched as the man crossed his arms in response, his biceps protruding nicely underneath his sleek black suit. He stared at her, looking as if she weirded him out for some reason. "Are you for real?" He furrowed his brows, his eyes squinting inquisitively.

What? Rey gawked in disbelief, taking offense with what he said. But before she could even speak her mind, the wretched spirit from the subway station closed in on the man; his hideous mouth opening wide. From that unsightly orifice came out his vile black tongue. Slowly, the ghost's unworldly and dead organ made its way towards the man's cheek, seemingly wanting to lick him; to taste him!

Rey gasped in horror. Her panic coupled with utter disgust made her grip her portfolio tightly. "Get the fuck away from him!" She screamed, slamming the white plastic folder at its translucent abominable face. She didn't know why she reacted that way. Maybe she felt the need to protect the oblivious stranger. Or maybe her actions were borne by sheer instinct, or immense loathing on these spirits, she doesn't know. It just felt like it was the best thing to do at the moment.

Rey gasped in shock soon after. She was not expecting the result of her charge. Just like when Rey hurled her sacred relics at her apartment's ghost, she knew all too well that the dead are not affected by whatever attack you throw at them. But this time, for some reason, her assault drove the it away, her portfolio ramming straight on its disfigured face with the force of her pounce sending the spirit rolling towards the pavement.

But her predicament is still far from over. Rey conjured a nervous exhale, clutching her folder that the sheets of her artwork crumpled. The entity that she seemed to ward off stood in all fours. He viciously growled at Rey, baring its foul teeth. Like a defensive animal, it raised its hips towards the sky, its only arm bending to the ground. It would seem like the spirit had become less human, becoming more of a dead beast; one which is readying itself to attack. Rey grinned in response, he can scare her all he wants because for the first time in a long time, Rey is not afraid. She has successfully repelled a ghost. And felt awesome!

In a blink of an eye, the subway ghost lunged forward. With new found courage, Rey readied to defend herself. She adjusted her feet; her hands prepared to swing. She saw the ghost lift itself in the air, going straight at her. But before anything can hit her, a forceful tug on her arm sent Rey off balance, making her drop her make shift weapon.

"What the hell?!" The coffee-scented man hissed. He pulled her towards him; grabbing both of Rey's wrist, preventing her from doing anything else. For a full minute or two, Rey stared dumbfoundedly at the stranger. She completely forgot that there was another human being caught in between the ongoing war between the her and the dead.

Rey gritted her teeth in irritation. Clearly having the sense of urgency, she struggled to get free from the man's grasp. She has no time for whatever he's currently blabbing about. The ghost is coming. She needed to get her "weapon" and she needed her freaking hands for it.

The spirit is going to hurt her! It will...

Huh? Rey blinked, dumbfounded at her realization. Where is it?

Rey wriggled in place, whipping her head towards her surroundings. There was no entity in sight, which is weird, because they don't suddenly disappear like that. Well, they do dematerialize when their wicked games are over but the ghost in question seemed like it hasn't had enough.

The apparition's disappearance confused Rey. She rubbed her tear-stricken eyes to get a better vision, but no matter how hard she searched, there was nothing. Not one spirit behind her; nor on her left or right. The only being in front of her is the man who smelled like coffee, whose honey colored eyes seemed displeased and angry.

The man then raised his brows, impatiently waiting for a response. But the unexpected evanescence of the ghost left her flabbergasted. But never mind that because the man was too close, making her freeze in place. From a far, the way he held her wrists appeared like they were going for an intimate and sultry ballroom session. The sheer absence of personal space between them made her nervous (more anxious than she was than being with the dead).

"Why the hell did you hit me?" The man growled begrudgingly, cocking his head down to emphasize his neck.

Rey blinked once again. On second thought, she will put a hold on thinking about their distance because... did she hit him? She analyzed as her brain rewired.

No, she didn't. Just to set the record straight, Rey did not hit the man. She smacked the shit out of that ghost. She...

Oh fuck —

There was an angry and angular patch of red on the man's neck. The part where the sharp edge of her portfolio slammed onto his pale skin created a small linear laceration on his cheek. Apparently, her attack not only sent the vile entity flying into oblivion but the momentum of her swing shot right through his face. When a droplet of blood trickled from his cheek, Rey gulped. Clearly, hurting him was never her intention. It just seem that way, but she can't tell him the truth now, can she?

"So..rry..." Rey said instead, shrinking in utter humiliation.

Her apology was responded by a thick and irritated click of his tongue, making Rey awkwardly tense in place. She closed her eyes soon after, readying herself for the barrage of insults, or worse, he might call the police and report an assault. But for a minute or so, he was just quiet.

"J...ust... will you look at the stoplight when you cross next time?" He mumbled, finally letting go of her writs. But as soon as the man's fingers started to loosen its clutches on Rey, for some unworldly reason, the ghost from the subway station, slowly — from his head down towards feet — started materializing out of nothing.

It stood once more, beside her. Yet unlike when it had a disfigured face and a crushed body, Rey only saw a man. Translucent, yes, but without injury; his head intact and whole; his detached arm back where it belonged. He looked like a man who passed away in his sleep, calm and peaceful, and not someone who died in such a miserable and painful way. What's even more surprising is that the ghost actually smiled at her, soft and gentle, that it sent Rey to a state of shock; her eyes widened, her mouth gaping open.

From there, Rey felt like her world stopped. Everything in her eyes went on slowly that she felt the pressure that the man's fingers made on her wrists disappear. Then, for some reason, the dead spirit glanced at both their hands, then back to her.

The spirit was trying to tell her something, but what exactly?

She gasped, finally having a moment of clarity. Her realization was a guess at best, but she had to try.

In a blink of an eye, her world suddenly moved; returning back to normal. And with that change, Rey managed to catch the man's wrist, clutching it tightly before pulling him close.

"W..wait," She whispered. The man stared at her, caught off-guard by the sudden contact. Rey lifted her free hand, tiptoeing to reach him. As gently and as careful as she could, she brushed the blood on his cheek.

"It's not deep," She said, checking on his wound.

The man merely cocked his head down in response, abruptly pivoting his heel to walk away from her. Rey did not mind how he reacted though, because at the slightest touch of his hand, the heavens seemed to open —a blinding light flashing before her eyes — and the the subway spirit slowly disappeared, finally finding an eternal place of rest.

Rey covered her mouth as tears of joy trickled down her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she had hope — a hope, disguised as tall man, with honey brown eyes and wavy shoulder length wavy hair, dressed in all black.