Ghostborn

The only place Eldric Holloway fills fully alive is amongst the dead.They wander around the cemetery like they’ve lost something aimlessly drifting. The stitches that once tied them to the living now burst at the seams They Murmur nonsense to themselves. Trying to mend together the torn Fragments of their existence.

Eldric Holloway walks briskly through the cemetery, stepping over graves. Humming a melody under his breath, his cat companion tails behind him. Above them the sky blooms dark foreboding clouds. The scent of coming rain spikes the fog swarmed air, flaring Eldrics nostrils.

“Come on, boy”, he murmurs, glancing down at his cat. “We better get inside.I know how you hate the rain”

The black short-haired cat leaps out in front of him, blocking his path. Eldric peers down at his furry companion.

“ghost...” he groans tired as hell.

The hairs on his sweat dampened neck Stand tall. Eldric turns Sharply, his green eyes glowing bright.

A faint grown brushes his ears.

“reveal yourself” eldric orders.

The fog around them shifts unavailing a older man in tattered cloths his skin pale as the moon above.

“I can’t find my way home” the old man croaks

Eldric steps forward, recognizing his voice.

“Mr. Morison... did you lose your way agine”?

Rain begins to fall.

“I can’t find Vivian have you seen my Vivian ” the ghost asks his eyes wide with fear.

“She’s crossed over, Mr. Morrison. I remind you of this every night. You need to join her.”

Eldric stands tall, locking eyes with him. Eldric takes out of his back pocket the worn death tarot card.

“look” he murmurs “and remember”

Morrisons eyes Fix on the card. A memory materializes in front of them playing out like a silent film of Mr. and Mrs. Morrison’s tragic deaths.

“I remember... I’m so sorry Vivian,I was driving too fast”. Mr. Morrison collapses into a lifeless heap.

“You can see her” he says gently

“Acceptance is your way back to her”

Morrison looks up into eldric glowing eyes

“oh, sweet Vivian...I can see you now. I know my way home”.

The fog rises and swallows him turning black for a heartbeat – and then he’s gone .

Eldric stands in silence peace settling over him.

Ghost lets out a bellowing meow, breaking the silence.

“Bitching about your Furr being wet” he says with a chuckle.

The night felt quieter somehow, the fog thickening around them as if the cemetery wanted them gone.

Ghost bolts across the eerie cemetery, leading Eldric to the overgrown path that cuts through the woods toward their Victorian home.

By the time Eldric approaches the front door, exhaustion racks his tall frame.

Ghost meows impatiently, rubbing his wet fur against Eldric’s black jeans.

Eldric fishes out a rusted key and unlocks the door. With a loud creak, it swings open, warm light pouring over them.

Eldric and Ghost cross the threshold, greeted by the familiar warmth that welcomes them home.

Ghost lets out a hiss that cuts through the silence like a blade, then darts into the shadows.

“Holloway”

The voice freezes eldric in place. His eyes snap towered the living room. A cloaked figure sits calmly on the coach, draining the warmth from the room.

Eldric sits down across from the reaper

“Holloway” the reaper says agine his voice filling the room like smoke

“do you like a challenge” eldric stares into the reapers boney sockets where eyes should be.

“just cut to it grim” he mutters, exhaustion dragging at his voice

From the shadows, Ghost lets out a low hiss, his glowing eyes flaring.

“There’s a group of souls hiding,” the Reaper says. “Find them. Bring them to me.”

Eldric just nods to grim in response, then leans forward

“I finally helped Mr Morrison let go of the living world.”

Grims skull tilts a haunting smile stretching across bone

“oh yes... Mr Morrison”

The two of them stare at eatch other the silence thick and cold

“is he at peace” Eldric asks

Grim’s smile vanishes. He straightens to his full height, towering over Eldric.

“What I do with the souls at my gate is none of your business, boy,” Grim snarls.

Then, in a violent puff of black smoke, he’s gone.

Ghost emerges from the shadows his eyes—like Eldric’s—glowing a pale teal, heavy with concern.

“Talk to me Ghost” Eldric murmurs. “Help me sort through this.”

ghost lets out a soft meow... then his true voice slips through

“Eldric i don’t trust that bag of bones”

Eldric sits down heavily on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. Ghost doesn’t move an inch.

“Ghost.” He pats the cushion again.

Ghost still doesn’t budge.

“What’s the matter, Ghost?”

Ghost growls. “I’m not sitting where his boney ass sat.”

Eldric lets out a laugh, then lays back. “Maybe I should get you a cat bed,” he says with a chuckle.

“Don’t you dare,” Ghost hisses sharply.

Ghost jumps up onto Eldric’s chest and starts to purr.

“Oh, Ghosty... what changed your mind?” Eldric asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Eldric, something’s off about that cloaked asshole. I don’t trust him.”

Eldric places a tattooed hand on Ghost’s back and gives him a gentle pat.

“I don’t trust him either. But I made a deal with him. If I break that deal, I’m dead.”

Ghost and Eldric lie on the couch, both at a loss for words. Ghost’s purr grows louder and louder until it cuts off abruptly.

A soft, rhythmic knock echoes from the front door.

Eldric scoops up Ghost and walks over, opening the door just a crack. He peers out to see a young woman with long auburn hair and grey eyes — so visually stunning that Eldric lets his guard down and swings the door fully open.

She stands there, average height, slender build, wearing a black dress. She smiles at him.

“Hello. Are you lost? Do you need directions?” Eldric asks, puzzled. No one ever knocks at his door — his home is hidden behind a forest and next to a graveyard, for Christ’s sake.

“My name’s Klara. I’m sorry to bother you and your adorable cat. No, I’m not lost. I came here for a reason. It might not make sense to you.” She looks around, fidgeting with her necklace, then glances at Ghost and gives him a little wave. “This is so forward, but... can I come in?”

Eldric is taken aback, but something about her feels familiar. He doesn’t question it. He lets her in.

The beautiful woman is inside his home — Klara. He’s mesmerized by her. Her movements are effortless, full of life. He’s looking so intently at her face that he almost doesn’t see the older woman standing behind her.

“Who’s the elegant woman accompanying you, Klara?”

Klara glances behind her. “My grandmother.”

She stops dead. Her grey eyes grow wide.

“Wait a minute... you can see her?”

Eldric nods, confused. “Of course I can see her. She’s standing right there.”

Ghost lets out a meow saturated in amusement.

“My grandma is dead,” she says, point blank.

Eldric laughs. “I’ll be damned. So we both see the dead.”

Ghost begins to purr and rubs his furry self against Klara’s leg.

“Grandma, you better start explaining yourself. Is this why you wanted me to come here?” Klara demands.

Her grandmother smiles warmly — then turns into a glowing mist and flows out the open window, swept away by the cold night air.

“Fuck all,” Klara blurts out in frustration.

“Your grandma seems lovely, Klara,” Eldric says, amusement tinging his voice.

Klara lets out a huff of air. “Yeah, she’s lovely all right. She drags me all the way here just to turn into a big ball of mist without telling me the fucking reason for it.”

Ghost stops rubbing against her leg.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? You both see ghosts. It’s fate, if you ask me.”

Klara jumps at the sound of Ghost’s spoken words.

“What the actual fuck—did your cat just talk?”

Ghost hops up onto the couch, stretches, then curls into a ball.

“He has a dead man’s soul in him. That’s why you can hear his true voice. Pretty neat, right?”

Klara lets out a laugh, shaking her head back and forth. “I’ll be damned. Things just keep getting stranger.”

Klara glides across the living room without needing an invitation. She settles beside Ghost and begins to pet the ball of fur curled at her side.

“I never got your name,” she says, looking up at Eldric.

“Eldric Holloway. And that furball you’re petting is Ghost.”

She smiles and extends her hand.

“I’m Klara Ashwick. Ghost suits him perfectly.”

Klara making herself right at home doesn’t bother Eldric in the slightest. If something were off about her, Ghost wouldn’t be curled up like a kitten in her lap.

Eldric starts toward the kitchen but pauses at the threshold.

“It’s late. Would you like some coffee?”

Klara just nods, still petting Ghost, his purr filling the room like a soft engine.

Eldric opens his mouth to ask her another question, but she beats him to it.

“Two sugars, one cream.”

He blinks, then huffs a quiet laugh and heads into the kitchen to make the coffee.

Eldric starts preparing the coffee but freezes the second he hears Klara’s voice.

“What is that?”

He can tell she’s spooked. He heads back into the living room.

Klara is no longer sitting—she’s standing rigid, pointing at the couch.

“Eldric, do you see that?”

He steps closer, eyes narrowing at the empty cushions.

“See what? There’s nothing there.”

Ghost’s fur stands on end. He leaps off the couch with a sharp hiss.

“I sense it. I see it,” Ghost growls. “There’s a black, misty substance clinging to your couch.”

Klara backs up, and Ghost follows her, both of them staring at the same spot.

“Something bad was here,” she whispers.

Ghost flicks his tail and looks up at Eldric.

“You might as well tell her about that boney asshole.”

Eldric lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his medium‑length black hair, fingers brushing the shaved sides.

“You might want to sit down for this one,” he says, gesturing toward the couch.

Klara doesn’t go near the tainted cushions. Instead, she takes the chair opposite them.

“Lay it on me, slick,” she says with an adorable smirk.

Eldric wishes that would lift his spirits, but what he’s about to tell her leaves him unsettled.

Ghost hops into her lap, curling back into his kitten form as if bracing for the story.

“Four years ago, I died... and my soul was delivered to the Reaper’s realm, where I was offered a deal.”

“Reaper’s realm?... like the Grim Reaper?” Klara asks, mystified.

“Yes, Klara. The Grim Reaper. I was face to face with death itself.”

Ghost yawns, showing his fangs.

“Bag of bones... bag of bones...” he chants spookily.

Klara begins to smile, unsure if Eldric is messing with her.

“The Grim Reaper... is fictional, Eldric. Maybe that’s just how death appeared to you... but—”

She stops, staring at him like he’s just escaped from a mental institution.

“I know how it sounds,” Eldric says. “We both see the dead. Is it really that far‑fetched for the Grim Reaper to be real?”

Her expression doesn’t change.

“You see that black misty shit on my couch, don’t you?” he adds, gesturing toward the spot. “That is exactly where he sat.”

Klara’s face finally relaxes, and she lets out a long breath.