Alone.

Of course it would come to this point, especially since her soul had drifted out of her body the moment her final breath was taken. Not much had changed—yet her blind eye could finally see again. She was translucent, white, and ghostly— just like in life. They probably went up north without me, she thought to herself as she floated past the manor she once called home.

She seemed to visualize the external architecture of Mott Manor even in the darkest of night—columns rising to accent the door and double-paned windows with black shutters made of only the finest, most durable materials. The short flight of stairs leading to the front door looked majestic even if it meant entering a house of horrors. The front had well-kempt flowering shrubs and colorful hydrangeas in bright shades of vibrant hues. The humid summer wind was no longer a bother to the spirit, but she floated toward the manor, worrying not about bumping into things, and seeped through the door and onto the other side. She even remembered where the light switch was and turned it on, gasping in an echoed breath to see the majority of furniture and belongings of the Mott family covered in thick tan burlap and old, faded white sheets.

She floated through the grand atrium and into the parlor, seeing the sofas, tables, lamps, statuary and other curios covered by the cloth materials. She even noticed a distinct stain in the one-soft rug, but could not quite make out what it was; it looked like a puddle of something that had been bleached. Her lilac-violet eyes seemed to glow even in the light, and she suddenly heard familiar footsteps, slowly fading out of sight. Though she was invisible, she could see that it was Dandy's personal maid; she seemed to look around strangely.

"What the…" she said, making the spirit nervous and drift aside; she was not visible, but she drifted in midair with caution. "I don't remember leaving this light on."

The maid proceeded to move through the albiness' pale-white spirit, flicking the light switch off. Yet when she turned around, the spirit was in full view for her to see—a ghastly aura surrounding a translucent form dressed in as long, white gown similar to her debut performance at the freak show; eyes that were not only their same lilac color, but seethed through her and glowed. Her hair and skin were the exact same stark white color as it was when she was alive, as were her eyebrows. Even her once sugar pink-colored lips were now a stark pale color, frightening and intimidating as the maid gasped loudly and screamed, putting a hand to her chest.

"M-Mrs. Mott?" she exclaimed. "What…how…huh?"

The ghost just stared, her eyes boring holes through her as she watched the woman collapse to the floor, turning pale and livid just as she had when Dandy's slit her throat—she was literally scared to death from the presence of the apparition.

The ghost floated out of the parlor slowly, drifting up the grand staircase of the atrium and down the hallowed hallway of the upper floor, turning her head to see a simly-lit room with mirror lining the walls and remnants of ribbons hanging from the life-sized, small stage at the far end of the room. The white ligatures were suspended, and the ghost turned her eyes upwards to see a hook holding an extension of the strings that resembled a pulley. In the corner was a vintage record player that had the needled arm set to the side. She floated over, seeing that the ballet barres were uncovered, and put the record on to one of her signature tunes to dance to—Lake in the Moonlight from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake.

She had been buried with her old ballet pointe shoes, and she took them out of seemingly thin air and put them on, taking her time with lacing them before beginning to sashay during the climax of the song. A few pirouettes later, she made an arabesque in between before one long, seemingly endless spin reminiscent of her days on the stage of a traveling show. That is when she noticed a green mist at her feet; it was just as ghostly as her.

She trembled as the form of a tall, refined man came into being wearing a cape-like coat over an elegant suit, a top hat over his neat dark hair, his penetrating dark eyes peering down at her in the same ghostly manner hers had naturally done, and the pewter skull on the top of his black wooden cane. The ghost had seen this figure before, perhaps in a distant memory, and as his face came into clear view, she immediately recognized him as the carnie spirit who had spared her life in exchange for her heartbreaking life story.

"Hello, my child," he said—Edward Mordrake, the other ghost thought. "Good tidings to you."

"It's you," the spirit said.

"Correct me if I am wrong about your name," he commanded. There was a moment of silence as he pressed the top of his skull-capped cane into the wooden floor. "Kateynka."

"Yes," the ghost said with widened violet eyes.

"You have proceeded to haunt your own home even after your death," Mordrake said, his penetrating dark eyes looking at the ghost of the albiness. "I have not forgotten the tortured soul that was once spared by the demon and I."

The albiness' spirit floated before him, looking dead into his eyes during an awkward silence; her breath sounded as echoed as her speech.

"What difference does it make?" she asked. "I am dead."

"Indeed you are. It is far too soon for All Hallow's Eve, but a spirit such as I knows no bounds. I roam the earth with the demon at my side until an unwitting freak performs in due time," he explained. "You, my child, roam the earth as well. You have not fulfilled your heart's purpose, have you?"

She shook her head sadly, her lips letting an echoed sigh from her form.

"Your life was heinously taken by one you trusted and loved," he continued.

She shook her head, looking up at Mordrake, whose height was only made taller by his top hat.

"I lost love for him," she replied sadly, sounding tearful even though tears were not evidently flowing from her ghostly, pale purple eyes. "He gave me whatever I wanted, but I learned that happiness cannot always be bought. My lover had little, but he loved me in every way."

"Yes, my child. I know of your pains," Mordrake said calmly, his voice booming with tranquility. "Love is a luxury not everyone can afford. Your husband was indeed wealthy, but he had too much to offer. Too much to try to love you. One cannot buy love. He was blinded by his privileges."

"Before I married him, I lived here for some months," the albiness' ghost said. "During that time…I thought of the children I would have once liked to have. It was…sort of selfish to think this way, but I believed that having a husband with money and power would allow me to give my children what I could not have. They would never starve. They would never freeze. They would never be in danger. They…" She paused and looked down, pursing her lips downward, "would be happy."

The ghost began to cry and sob, her weeping echoing through the dance studio her murderous husband had built for her in life as Mordrake held his raven, flowing cape out for the albiness' spirit to nestle and be consoled by his fearsome, yet respected, sympathetic presence. Mordrake held her close at the waist, feeling the slenderness of her spirit form as he turned with her and looked down at her.

"Look before you, my child," he said, holding a handkerchief to her eyes to wipe them dry.

The bright violet eyes of the spirit looked over as directed and gasped at the sight of a few familiar faces of freaks who had been taken by the famed carnie legend over the years. There had been the fat lady with the slit throat; a man with excessive hair on his face that made him look like a dog; there was an abnormally tall acrobat man who was dressed flamboyantly in stripes; there was even a large clown, who had been Mordrake's more recent addition to his collection of companions.

"He won't hurt you," the large clown said; he sounded somewhat slow. "You are already dead."

"I…I don't understand, mister," the albiness asked, looking up into the two-faced ghost's penetrating eyes.

"Please accept my invitation to become my newest companion, my child," Mordrake pleaded. "Your needs will be taken care of, you will be in good company, and you will be under our protection for the rest of eternity."

She had heard those words before—all your needs will be taken care of. It made her think of Dandy, so she backed away from Mordrake and looked up at him. He could easily sense the fear in her eyes, but he hovered over to where his group of companions was, holding out his hand.

"I understand that you have heard those words before from a man you were expected to trust and love," he boomed, "but it is an entirely different affair when you are with us. You are not alone. You will never be alone again."

As he held out his hand, the albiness' spirit was about to reach out and take it, but then she thought of the family she had lost—her beloved grandmother, her beautiful sister Oksana, her hardworking parents, her oldest brother Alexei, younger sister Evgeniya, and of course, her youngest sibling Nikolai, who had died so brutally so young.

"Wait," said the ghost of the deceased albiness.

"Yes, my child?" he asked; his eyes, for once, did not look so frightening.

"Allow me to see my family, and I will join you," she said.

After a brief moment of thought, the legendary carnie spirit nodded his head.

"You have my word," he told her. "You will be able to see them whenever you would like. I will see to it."

Taking his gloved hand without hesitation, he floated toward him and faded away. The manor was now officially desolate and empty.

A/N:

Thank you so much for reading Ghost, and for all the reviews, favorites and follows I've gotten from you guys! Without your enthusiasm to read, I would not be writing fanfiction. You guys rock! :3

What did you think? Please leave a Review, and make sure to Follow and Favorite!

Thanks again guys! :)