Drifting, carried by waves. Carried by the soul of the world. Pierced by spears of ten hundred tens. The water…

…poured through the forest, murdering everything in its path. Everything fell before it, whether it be creature or tree or structure. I gazed upon it as it approached, without fear. Knife left sheath ad swung in one elegant movement. The water split.

Falling again. Watery spray brushes my face. Impact, and then…

…a figure all edges and metal strode out atop the flood. Its armor dripped with crimson and burgundy, sans a gleaming and radiant faux-heart-shape upon its chest. It drew a shining teal long-knife from nowhere, and beckoning me toward it. I gave it a vicious grin, and leapt.

Water rose and rose all around, until it could rise no more. The foundation could not stand such a towering structure, and so it collapsed and fell until sweet breath and the smell of iron filled the world instead. Carried still upon the waves. Carried, then dropped, then carried again, then thrown and battered upon the foundation, and carried again…

…I swung, and again its armor splintered and failed, revealing patch after patch of glorious, wondrous, beatific skin. My own skin was torn and bloody, but I cared not for injury, only for the creature before me. Its every swing and thrust spoke of its longing for me. Its… love?

The waves had long stilled, lying flat atop a soft and prickly bed of something upon which the waves threw. Sleep… sleep, that bitter poison, overcame…

…it at last, sending the long-knife spiraling away into the water, and the creature falling onto its back. One final slash splintered its helm into shards. Its face… its… face. My face. Identical in every way. And yet… its face was a little less handsome. Its smile just a little less charming. Its bearing a little less strong. Its soul a little less red. My hand plunged down into its mouth, gripping its jaw hard enough to break it. My mouth came down onto its own, and came away with a chunk of its cheek between my teeth. Its teeth… its eyes… its jaw… its flesh and bone and cartilage and dust and brain and soul… All of it, torn off, chewed, savored, and devoured.

Was this what it meant to be loved?

A pair of eyelids opened. Stared I up at the endless waterfalls above like a heathen gazing up at the gaping maw that dropped him into Limbo. I breathed in a long, deep breath… and then coughed and retched, the water around me turning ever darker as I did. As if awoken by the noise from their long slumber, my nerves screamed in agony. I looked down, and saw my body resting atop a patch of flowers soiled by blood and the wreckage of a large wooden panel. It was hardly recognizable as the bridge I'd been on before, splintered and broken as it was. The shards were all over the flowers, the water, and, like ten thousand spears, they pierced all across my body.

I lay there, on that patch of yellow. My bones were cracked all over. My right arm was completely immobile, and it felt as if every bit of it was shattered into tiny fragments of hydroxyapatite. My skin was torn to shreds. There was not an inch of me that was not pierced by wood; some as small as a fingernail, some as large as my hand. Were my lungs punctured, or was I simply drowning in my own blood? I couldn't tell.

I lay there, on that patch of yellow. And I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. I laughed myself sick, and then laughed some more.

How many people had died from something so tiny? A single punch. One bad fall. A sickness he couldn't overcome. A knife. One bad meal. And yet.

And yet.

And yet and yet and yetandyetnadyetnadyetnadyetnadyandeyetandeytANDYEYANDYETANDYETANDYETANDYETAND

Here I was.

This would not be the day I would die. It never could possibly be. Oak and Ash and THorn. I should be dead a hundred thousand times over, in a sane world. But then, in a sane world, I wouldn't be in the first place. It is for the insanity of the world that I am where I am, where I was. And if the world could do that, then I could do the other; since there is ever a sort of fair play herein. But not my master is even that fair play.

Here I laid, punctured, bruised, bloodied and BATTERED AND ALIVE. What could one do but laugh?

Piece by bloody piece of splintered wood fell, as I picked and prodded at my wounds. Already my skin tingled with energy from the candies and pastries I'd torn into, hardly even tasting them as they went down. I wasn't sure what would happen if I tried to heal over a wound that was obstructed by wood, so pick and prod I did. In the meantime...

What had happened, before I fell? How had I ended up down here? The memories seemed to evade me like shattered glass in carpeting. Even my thoughts felt scrambled, flitting this way and that. But I remembered...

A moment upon a bridge in the sky (The sky? The ocean? The earth?). Falling (Flying? Swimming? Buried?). A spear slicing a border in the world. A figure holding it. A woman (A creature. A murderer. My...).

Who was she? Why did she set me to flight?

I remembered a pursuit. Over sky, over water, through tunnels. She wanted me so badly. Why? My soul? My heart? What did that even mean?

I remembered a world gone mad. Delirious landscapes, evil around every step. Souls... THEY STOLE THEIR SOULS. THEY WOULD EAT MINE. I remember fear. Hatred. Spite. Desperation. Every moment lived was a torturous fight for survival against an endless swarm of monstrous creatures that fell apart at the slightest touch.

And I remembered... something different. I remembered an implacable figure hounding me relentlessly. Over hill, over dale. Resolved beyond reason. Clad in armor that could stop a battering ram, wielding weapons that could butcher an army, possessing of a malice that could rouse a saint to slaughter. All focused to a single point. I remember being in her sights... and laughing. Earnest, and sincere.

But why? Why had I enjoyed myself so, for the first time since... Who was she to me?

I reached out for more fragments of thought and emotion. Bits and pieces came to me, detached from any hope of chronology. Memories of deceit... of dissatisfaction... the thrill of a challenge... the desperate grasping of a starving child... The exultant cry of a person brought to the brink of death and back again... The striving, the always pushing drive toward freedom...

Love...

Love?

Yes, I remembered. Something about love. A piece of a sentiment. "I love..." "...never want this to end."

Was that who she was to me? My... love?

My gaze drifted downward, at my now splinterless and still healing body. I looked up at the endless waterfalls above; so far that, for anyone still standing upon the bridge from that moment before (which She would not be, she would already be hunting me down once more), I must be entirely out of sight; I was certainly out of mind.

I recalled her eyes, hidden in the dark slits of her helmet, were it not for their gleaming intensity. Her eyes... they never left my form, but for the barest of instants. There was purity there, even as adulterated as her cause was. In those endless moments, her gaze was set upon nothing beside.

Was this what it meant to be loved? It seemed mad. So it must have been true.

Onward, then. What else would I do? How would I not move onward?

And so, I trudged through the chest-high water, surrounded by bits of trash and flotsam that washed down here, at the end of the waterfalls. I considered scavenging for food amidst the garbage... but I wasn't that desperate yet.

Finally, I reached a ramp that led up and out of the muck. It was a lucky thing, the healing power of the food around here; I'd hate to be traipsing through this filth with open wounds. It was hardly the worst I'd been through, but still.

Then, just as I approached the ramp, my way was blocked by what appeared to be a floating, animate training dummy that emerged from the water. Much like the one I'd encountered ages ago, before I'd had perspective, and the maddest thing in the world was a talking flower-creature and a dummy that floated away. Now, it seemed downright mundane.

"Hahaha... It's just like you to run away. I am a ghost that lives inside a DUMMY. My cousin blah blah blah blah blah"

"I don't... care," I said, and started to walk past it. It quickly dove back into the water, emerging once again directly in my path.

"Unbelievable!" it cried, becoming even more animated now. "You don't even have the common decency to let a person finish his monologue! Despicable. Despicable! DESPICABLE! You're the worst person I've ever met! I've NEVER been more mad!"

"That really says more about you then it does about me, you know," I retorted. "Are you done now?"

"Guooooohhhh!" It exclaimed, give or take a few Os. Its body began to turn bright red, which seemed like a bad sign. Was it charging up an attack of some kind? I covertly started spinning up a handful of flame, in case thing got unfly. "My mannequin levels are going OFF THE CHARTS!"

Suddenly, a bright flash filled the area. In that brief moment before light claimed my sight, I saw the creature's bearing... shift.

I didn't hesitate.

The creature fell to the water, already half incinerated before the water could attempt to put the flames out. I stamped on it a few times for good measure, until the water turned dusty around me.

Was it actually trying to attack me? It didn't really matter. Even if it wasn't, flashing a kid is never okay.

Up and out of the muck, at last. It was a good thing whoever bought this backpack was into waterproofing. The rest of me was rather less waterproof, but at least I wasn't still out in the snow, so I wouldn't be risking frostbite until I dried off. Not that I would be risking frostbite when I... nevermind, you know what I meant.

Past the narrow opening at the top of the ramp, the world once again opened up a little. A myriad of paths surrounded a little rectangular pond in the center. The way in front of me stretched off a little ways, terminating in a pair of little, oddly shaped houses, partly obscured by a hovering creature that was gently and lethargically gliding in my direction. It looked... rather like that classical depiction of a ghost cloaked in its burial shroud. Or, indeed, like a very low-budget ghost costume. Were those depictions correct? Was this truly what a ghost would look like?

The idea that this place was haunted was, frankly, not an enormous surprise. I'd never seen a ghost before, and as far as I knew they weren't a thing up on the surface, but I could easily accept that the magic suffusing this crazy place could cause a human's soul to gain an intangible form after the body's death. Wasn't there something in those carved markings before, about the power of human souls? And with their obsession with killing humans, likely to claim their souls… yes, it seemed eminently plausible, especially when compared to the incoherent madness I'd already beheld thus far. Yes! It was a surprise I hadn't seen any before, to be frank! Or… had I not seen any before?

No, it didn't matter.

The spirit floated towards me, and the nearer it came, the more... tired it seemed. The closer it came, the more... familiar the look of its face was. And the slower its motions became.

I was struck by a sudden, terrible urge.

I took a step towards the spirit. Then another, and another, and another.

I raised a hand, and reached out for the spirit.

It did not recoil.

My fingers closed around its head.

In the moment after, everything was silent.

Everything was calm.

Then, I tore the ghost creature into two, and devoured it.

I could feel its essence, its being, flowing into me. Its memories, its knowledge. Its power.

I had been so tired, and now the world was filled with new life.

And then, I laughed.

I had been so tired, and now the world was filled with new life.

"-just wanted to say hi," the ghost creature said in a sluggish, uncertain voice. I blinked, my train of thought completely lost. That made sense; ghosts and trains and all that... what had it been saying? Something about wanting to say hi? Did it know me, or was it just... what's the word? Nevermind.

"Well... you succeeded," I replied. There was a silence that stretched on longer than most would find comfortable, or so I'd heard. Finally, the sound of my snickering broke the silence. "That came off a bit standoffish, didn't it?" I continued, "I've been having... a day. My name is- well, nevermind that now." Its voice seemed vaguely familiar. Had we met before? Surely I'd have remembered meeting a ghost.

...Unless, of course, I didn't recognize it as one at the time.

"Wait, now I remember!" I exclaimed. "We met before, in the ruins, right? Well, for a given value of 'met'. Blimey, I didn't even realize you were a ghost! Laying there like that, I mistook you for someone wearing a sheet or somesuch, although of course it's obvious now that you're up and about and looking... what's the ghost equivalent of 'lively'? Nevermind. You were... kinda rudely sitting in my way, actually. Saying Z over and over again, for... some reason."

"i was... pretending to be asleep," it replied. "so that you'd go away. i didn't realize I was in your way... sorry..."

"Buddy, as far as active obstacles in my way, you didn't even make the top ten in the ruins alone." I retorted. This I was certain of, even with how sketchy my memories of that place were. It didn't even try to murder me or anything, which already put it in the 99th percentile. If I had known it was a ghost… well, I still wouldn't have disturbed it, since it clearly didn't want to be bothered, what with the whole "Z" thing. "Why are Zs supposed to represent sleep, anyway? I don't make Z sounds in my sleep, and I don't know anyone that does."

"maybe... some people do?" it said, a question as much as it was an answer. "i've heard that Zs are supposed to be the sound you make when you sleep..."

"I... guess," I said, a little uncertainly. "It makes as much sense as anything, and a lot more than anything down here does. Well, meeting you again has certainly been... well, it's certainly been."

"i guess I didn't really make a good first impression..." the ghost trailed off, apparently talking more to itself than anything. "but, anyway, uh... i'm Napstablook. and... oh. i've forgotten what else I had planned to say..."

"Uh... you're doing a very good job," I tried.

"really?" the ghost, Napstablook, asked. "you're just saying that to make me feel better, aren't you?"

"Yeah, probably," I admitted.

"oh…" the ghost said again, looking a little downcast. "but i've been taking up too much of your time, haven't i? sorry, i'll get out of your way..."

"Eh, I don't have anywhere to be," I shrugged. "I'm not even sure where I am. I've just been wandering around. I can spare a bit of time, I suppose."

"oh," Napstablook said. "well, I suppose, if you'd like, you could follow me... if you wanted, that is..."

"Sure, why not?" I replied.

And so, the pair of us walked. Well, I walked. The ghost… hovered, or whatever it is ghosts do. We didn't talk, nor did we see any other souls or monsters. Just companionable silence, with the closest thing to genuine human companionship since I didn't even know when floating by my side. Ghosts were more or less humans, after all, despite being sort of dead (and no, skeletons don't count, since ghosts are clearly a person's soul while skeletons are just animate bones, and just about any crap might be animating them). For a while, it was nice, just to walk along and let my mind drift a little. I wondered what it would be like to float everywhere, as Napstablook could. To never have to wear down your feet on endless harsh trails, or spend hours on agonizing climbs, or seconds on agonizing falls, but to simply float anywhere you wish... Would it be like letting your mind drift away in a sea of thought, carried by waves?

I wondered if that might be something I could learn to do, without needing to die. Not that I would consider Napstablook to truly be dead, not as long as he was still hanging around and doing things, but nevermind. I had magic now, didn't I? Ever since I took the soul of that goat creature… I'd only used it to throw fire like she did in that final battle, but she… also used it to heal, didn't she? Other monsters used it for all sorts of other things, was all that something I could learn to do? And if so, was the hovering of a ghost also magic that I could learn, or just something inherent to souls free of bodies? Did it even know? I supposed that I could just have asked, but I was loathe to break the companionable silence we had fallen into, so I just kept walking by his side.

"hey... my house is up here..." Napstablook finally broke the silence. Ahead of us the tunnel opened up into a small area with a couple of wonky-looking houses. "in case you want to see... or in case... you don't... If you want, we could-"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I've been wanting to ask you something," I cut it off. "You seem to have an interesting way of traveling, and I was wondering how it works. You know, the whole… hovering… thing."

"it's... well, I just kind of think about where I want to go, and... here I am," the ghost said, apparently a little thrown by the sudden change in subject. "it's not very complicated. Most ghosts can do it."

"Huh," I said, "So it's more a function of intent then it is of method, is what you're saying." That… didn't sound too far off from how I used the goat's magic.

"I... guess," the ghost replied. "But... um, I mean, it's not really important, is it?"

"I mean, maybe not, but I was curious," I replied. "It seems a lot easier than walking, that's for sure. I'd love to learn how to do that."

"I... I suppose, if you'd like, I could try to teach you," the ghost said hesitantly.

"Could you?" I replied, foolishly getting my hopes up a little.

"Oh, but I think you'd need to be a ghost, first," Napstablook quickly continued. "Which... might be difficult, considering, well..."

"Ah," I said. There was always a catch. "That does complicate things, doesn't it? Especially for me, since I'm never going to die."

"Never?" the ghost asked.

"Nope, not ever," I confirmed.

"Oh..." it said, seeming to not really know how to react to that. That was fair enough; I didn't really understand it either.

After a moment's thought, I realized that it was maybe a bit churlish to be flaunting that sort of thing in front of a ghost. Napstablook didn't seem bothered, but he seemed vaguely subdued in general. Not that I blamed him, I'd feel pretty depressed too if I died. Well, no, I'd be dead, I wouldn't feel anything. Which reminded me…

"Not that you're really 'dead', per se," I continued. "I mean, some would say ghosts count as dead people, but I say, if you can still hang around and do things, you're still at least a little alive in my book."

"thanks…?" the ghost replied, sounding a bit unsure.

"Well, that's settled then," I said, and then realized the ghost had no idea what I was talking about. "I'll learn to float and do other ghost stuff the hard way, is what I'm saying. Probably. Maybe." At this point, I wasn't sure that I had any idea what I was talking about.

"oh, alright. anyway, we're here…" the ghost said, sparing me from having to continue that tangent. "my house." In front of us was the pale blue house, the one the ghost had referred to as his.

"This is your house?" I asked, looking up at the oddly-shaped building. "It's very… well, it's very." A bit of a queer shape, but I was no architect. The ghost floated through the wall, and I stepped through the door after him. It was a good thing this place was set up to receive visitors, as a house made for ghosts would otherwise need no door. Unless… this Napstablook's house before he died?

I stepped in, and looked around. The furnishings were rather sparse; nothing more than a refrigerator, a television, and a computer desk stood before me, with a couple of books laying on the ground on the opposite side. There wasn't even a seat at the desk, which in retrospect would have been odd. What need would a ghost have of a chair? I preferred to stand anyway. It's good for the bones.

"it's not much but, make yourself at home," the ghost said.

"No, not at all; I enjoy a little squalor." I replied, flashing him with my most gracious smile. He seemed a little surprised at that, but that was understandable. "Anyway, it's a nice little house. You should be proud."

"oh... thank you..." the ghost replied, a bit bashful.

"It's a nice change from the endless horror show I've been wandering through," I continued. "The flowers, the snow, the rivers, the monsters, the trees, the rocks, the puzzles, the false-stars, the water, the flowers, the trees, the rocks, the rivers, the snow, the- you get the picture. It's a bit of a mess. Anyway, thanks for showing me your home. So, what do you do for fun around here, then? Ah… assuming fun is something ghosts care about, I guess."

"Um… I guess it is," Napstablook replied hesitantly, almost as if he didn't quite know the answer. But that was probably just general uncertainty. Poor guy. Was he like this before he died, or was this mostly ghost ennui? Probably a bit of both. They shoulda sent a psychiatrist… "um... if you aren't busy, would you like to listen to some tunes?"

"Tunes?" I inquired quizzically. "As in, the musical kind? Are you a musician, Napstablook? I could picture you on the drums…"

"oh... no, i don't really play an instrument or anything... i just compose stuff on a computer," the ghost replied, drifting toward the computer desk. "i have a music program that i like to compose snailsongs in..."

"Snail songs, eh?" I said, following the ghost. "What's that sound like, exactly?"

"well... hold on, let me queue up the latest track..." the ghost said, pulling up some sort of interface. After a moment, a song began playing, which sounded like a mix of ambient noises, and some peculiar rhythmic whistling and clicking sounds that I couldn't quite place. It was actually rather pleasant to listen to, in a sort of nostalgic way.

"This is quite good, you know," I commented after a few minutes. "It's got a bit of an eerie vibe to it, and the ambiance is really well done."

"thank you," the ghost replied.

"What's that clicking noise, anyway?" I asked. "Sounds familiar, but I can't place it. Is that some sort of synthesized sound, or are those actually the sounds of snails?"

"i'm glad you like the tune," Napstablook said. "those sounds... are real. the snail calls..."

"Oh," I replied, not sure how to react to that. "I thought snails were... deaf."

"they're not," the ghost said simply. "well... maybe some are. i don't know. i don't know much. anyway, would you like to listen to something else?"

"Sure," I said. "Play me your best."

And so, we spent a couple of hours listening to the ghost's compositions. The books I had seen earlier turned out to not be full of paper and words, but instead sleeves for individual disks, each one brimming with tunes of all sorts, from snailsongs to chiptunes to full orchestral arrangements to reversed tracks genres I'd never even heard of. Not that I was someone who was particularly knowledgeable about musical genres, mind. Still, despite me being a philistine, we continued to enjoy the songs, until a low rumbling noise began emanating from my stomach. Was I really so hungry again already? I had eaten a veritable feast what felt like minutes ago, back when...

"Ah, that's right," I mused. "Of course I'd be hungry again. All that food I ate earlier must have gotten almost entirely burned through bringing me back from being half-dead. Well, more like three-quarters dead, really, but that's splitting hairs, and I've not seen a rabbit in ages."

"what?" the ghost said, and I remembered it was there.

"Sorry," I replied, "got lost in my own head for a minute. Don't worry about it."

"oh, okay," the ghost replied. "You said you were hungry... I can get you something to eat..."

"I would be much obliged, good sir," I replied, giving the ghost a little bow.

The ghost floated over to the refrigerator, and a short while later came floating back, carrying a plate with a large, thick, white substance, vaguely shaped like a small, layered cake.

"i'm not much of a chef, but i hope you like..." it said, holding out the plate towards me. "ghost sandwich. wait... no. ghost burger."

"Looks delicious," I replied, taking the plate and examining the strange, spectral object atop it. "So... what exactly is this made out of, then? Magic? Ectoplasm? Aether?"

"it's a ghost," the ghost explained.

"Oh, right, that makes sense," I said, nodding. "Wait, how does... how does ghost food work? Does a burger have a soul? Or was this made from the ghost of a cow?"

"just eat the burger..." Napstablook said, sounding a little perturbed by this line of questioning.

"Alright, alright" I said, picking the burger up off the plate. It was surprisingly heavy; by which I mean it had any weight at all. I took a bite out of it, and the flavor was… well, it was pretty good, actually. Better than any hamburger I'd ever had, and the texture was just as good.

"This is really good," I said between mouthfuls. "I've not had a meal this good in days. I've mostly been subsisting off of candy and other sweet things, and that gets tiresome really quick. And the only other thing I've eaten was a raw monster heart, and that's not really a meal. Not a proper one, anyway."

"a... monster heart?" the ghost asked, confused.

"Yup," I said. "A while ago, I fought some... goat-like creature, and when I killed it, for some reason, its soul hung around after instead of... whatever it is souls do when they die. Dissipate into the aether, I guess. Anyway, it was a weird little thing, all heart-shaped. So, since I was hungry, and it was there, and I didn't know if souls were edible or not, I just kinda... ate it."

"you... you just ate a soul?" Napstablook asked, sounding a little aghast.

"Yes, I did," I said. "Turns out, they are... not the worst thing I've ever eaten. Definitely not the worst thing down here. Still, it's not a proper meal, not compared to something like this," I finished, waving the burger at the ghost.

"oh," it said.

"Don't worry, though," I said. "I've no intention of eating you, Napstablook."

"oh... okay..." the ghost replied.

"That would just be silly," I continued. "I'd never met a ghost before. Not a proper one, anyway. It'd be a shame to ruin our budding friendship."

"we're friends?" the ghost asked.

"I would certainly like to think so, yes," I said. "You're a very decent and hospitable fellow, Napstablook. It's always nice to meet a genuinely friendly face, especially down here. Especially after the day I've had."

"you're the first person i've met since... forever, who actually seems interested in my music," Napstablook said. "maybe if you come by some other time, we could listen to some snazzy new tunes..."

"I'd like that," I said, flashing him a smile.

"and, uh..." the ghost continued. "if you're hungry again, well... maybe you could come visit, and i'll get you some more ghost food..."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," I said.

"oh, and..." the ghost started again.

"Yeah?"

"uh... i can't think of anything else," the ghost said.

I let out a small, good-natured chuckle at that. "Alright, alright," I said, setting the empty plate down on the desk. "I should probably be moving on anyway. Thanks for everything, Napstablook. This was fun."

"it was, wasn't it?" the ghost said. "that was nice..."

"Anyway, see ya around, mate," I said, walking out the door.

"goodbye, and take care of yourself..."

"Nonsense, my dear blooky," I said cheerfully as I strode off yet again, waving as though in admonition my fifteen-inch knife of an unidentifiable dark-grey sheen, "I'm invincible."