The talked-out ghost decided to give her son some space after that bout of emotional vulnerability. There was something she could do to help make up for the turmoil she’d just unleashed, something they’d discussed during their many trips that day—a certain performance review that Drim would never be able to complete on his own.
Because no matter how he tried to hide or how stealthy he was, his sister was watching. He could come up with endless excuses or distractions, but the boy had never been able to catch Phon completely off-guard or observe her without her at least knowing of his presence.
This was a perfect job for Eleen, both as an invisible ghost and as her mother. Parents always had special abilities to figure out what their children were up to while the kids thought they were getting away with it—well, except that one time. Though, Eleen also wasn’t entirely confident in her specter side.
It seemed Phon could sometimes sense where she was, or at least that something was amiss in her general direction. Maybe Eleen still gave off a hint of her old aura when she was feeling a bit more solid. But it wasn’t enough for her to be concerned, because her daughter generally didn’t care about her existence, even less so than her brother. Drim actively hated her, while it seemed Phon regularly forgot that the woman still existed. In a way, that stung even more.
The ghost floated over to Phon’s room, which was right next door, but there was no sign of her daughter. It was both expected and unexpected at the same time. Phon would just pop in and out of rooms with no concern for conventional doors or traversal etiquette. So it wasn’t surprising to glance in a room, find it empty, then blink and she was there.
However, Phon, like Drim, came home almost every single night unless there was an active reason not to, and it was rare for her to be out so late. Commute wasn’t a big deal with her powers, and she liked to return and check in on things, making sure everything was running smoothly as part of her duties as co-leader.
While Phon was still considered the voice of the Fiends For Hire, she’d been slinking to the background in the public eye with her duties. Many had come to forget how much actual work she did for the organization, both in the news and the group itself. But a mother could always tell how hard their child was working.
Still, with Phon not there, Eleen couldn’t exactly perform a performance evaluation, could she? Well, she could judge her daughter on other aspects, like how messy and disorganized her personal kitchen was. It was the one part of the room that Mallea wasn’t allowed to clean. Since it would ‘ruin her system’ or some such buffoonery.
But, the mom wouldn’t give up just yet. She’d check back in a while and hopefully catch the girl unaware and with her guard down. While the ghost was fairly tired from so much floating and existing that day, she wasn’t quite ready to turn in for the night, so she needed to find something fun to do.
Given her range, she couldn’t reach any of the other buildings from Drim’s room, or at least not any that she’d want to visit. She could make it to the residential homes, but they were a bunch of boring duds. Nathym’s workshop was also within spooking distance, but he and Farian had likely turned in for the night, if they were even around, and had returned to the secret lab.
Now that was a place where a vengeful spirit could have some fun—knock over vials, blow up some experiments, really rouse some horror. But sadly, it was just out of reach. The only place she could make it to was Ahvra’s bedroom, and honestly, that wasn’t a girl Eleen wanted to mess with. It was definitely possible the little runt could see some ‘flow’ of her existence. Was it possible that a ghost could be dissected? Even if it wasn’t, the insane Witch would find a way.
Since she was essentially stuck to the mansion, Eleen floated downstairs. She quickly found Kada and Tize sitting in the living room together, watching a Zoneball match and gorging themselves on snacks. It was enough entertainment for the moment, so the ghost decided to join them.
In an effort to feel even more included, she floated to the available middle cushion on the couch and attempted to line up her body so that it looked like she was actually sitting properly. Their shared popcorn bowl was now sitting in her lap—more like it was clipping through her legs.
The ghost quickly lost interest in the sport and became immediately invested in trying to eat some popcorn. She spent several minutes trying to pinch a single puff between her fingers, causing a few nudges and a few more slips. But lo and behold, she finally nabbed one!
That was just the beginning, though. The ghost then needed to bring it up to her mouth which now seemed insurmountably far. Inch by inch she slowly raised it into the air. The amount of focus she was exuding was ludicrous to achieve such a simple task. But this was now everything to her, and she did know how much it would break her if she failed to achieve it.
Mere molecules away from her gaping mouth, she heard Tize say, “Oh the popcorn’s gone cold, I’ll go make us some more.” This prompted all three sitting on the couch to look towards the bowl. The man’s hand had passed through Eleen’s thigh, inflicting his skin with her chilling curse. Which just went to show how cold it really was since Fiends normally weren’t bothered by lower temperatures.
Then the eyes of both Fiends sitting on either side of the ghost lingered towards the popcorn floating in the air. They both gasped and scooted away, as far to their edges of the couch as their butts could scooch. This was just enough commotion to cause Eleen to lose focus. The popcorn slipped through her once-again intangible fingers and gently landed back in the bowl.
Eleen slumped back into the couch and let out a deep, guttural groan of agony, all of her hopes stolen from her. She didn’t want to try again after that and stood up to find new entertainment elsewhere. Of course, her legs chose to be corporeal for a second, knocking over the bowl of the popcorn and spilling it all over the floor.
The ghost stared, dismayed at the mess she’d made. It would take her centuries to pick up every piece of popcorn at her current ability. But oh well, someone else would clean it up.
Speaking of the most likely candidate for the task, Eleen ran into Mallea seconds later when she drifted into the kitchen. It looked like her ex-maid had been doing prep work for the next day's meals and was now cleaning up afterwards.
The pranking poltergeist immediately began trying to come up with ideas on how to mess with her. She could always rely on the good ole freezing finger down the spine. That was good for a jump and a shiver, but Eleen grew weary of such antics, at least for today.
She began eyeing up the spice rack. Maybe she could knock some over into the bowl of marinating meat. That’d sure ruin the maid’s night, an idea which practically titillated the middle-aged ghost. Eleen floated over, but she never got the chance to even reach out her hand in an attempt at sabotage. It seemed that while her former employee was cleaning a knife, the ghost’s reflection popped up for just a split second.
Mallea whirled around, eyes darting in panic, the knife pointed out at the figment of her imagination. But after realizing she’d just been seeing things, she sighed and returned to her duties.
I get hating having your boss looking over your shoulders, but that was just plain rude, Eleen had watched the altercation with a dour disappointment. Causing such a fright was enough to placate her for now, so she moved on to find someone else to torment.
But there weren’t exactly a lot of options. Xard was nowhere to be found on the second floor, leaving Eleen alone in his empty room. But she found something of interest after all. The ghost stared at the current mystery he was trying to solve, a jumbled mess of string and ideas.
Boy was he off the mark. Her experience as a tyrannical dictator left her with a lot of criminal connections. The so-called ‘witness’ to the murder mystery was obviously the culprit. Eleen had known her personally, the vile little zjik that she was. But how could she convey the information?
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Maybe she could snip every thread but the one that led to the woman. No, that would take far too long and so much effort. Instead, Eleen touched the photograph and focused, imbuing some of her energy. Frost began to form on the board, surrounding the picture and scratching outwards, almost like a snowflake. There, that at least should give him some hint of divine intervention.
Now onto the third floor, she found Feyj’s room empty at first but then realized he was in the shower. She had no interest in peeping in on a young boy, but the mirror was giving her some ideas. There wouldn’t be as much fun if she just appeared in the reflection again for the second time that night, and Eleen found that the more she tried to do something intentionally, the less likely it would happen.
But maybe there was something else she could do. The ghost tried to swipe a finger along the glass. It went right through, of course, but it also left a streak in the fog that had condensated from the shower’s steam. That was something she could work with a smile crept up on her face.
But what to write? She knew that the boy was currently being plagued by assassins, so would writing something like, ‘were coming for you’ or ‘we’re watching you’ be too cruel? Yes, yes it would, but she didn’t care. However, that was a lot of writing and she didn’t know if she had the energy to finish in time before Feyj finished his shower. So instead, she drew an eyeball. Not her best work, but it should be creepy enough.
The woman then left before seeing the result—her imagination of what was going to happen way funnier than reality could ever be. She wasn’t ready for disappointment just yet if her daughter hadn’t returned to her room, so Eleen decided to float up to the rooftop.
She stared at the familiar sky, waves of nostalgia almost bringing her to tears as she listlessly counted the stars above her. Could a ghost cry? Well she was too strong-willed and stubborn to find out, burying the feeling deep deep down to hopefully never uncork it again.
Her non-existent eyes eventually started feeling heavy, and her consciousness started to blink in and out once or twice. She’d need to head to her bed soon, or rather the confines of her son’s heart. It was comfortable either way.
But then she was snapped back awake by a strange sound—a melody. “Babuu!” “Garuu!” “Babuu!” “Garuu!” “BabuBabuu!” “GarGaruu!” Drimini came floating by with Pox dangling in her vines. They were almost certainly heading to Drim’s room for the night, but… were they singing? It sure sounded like it as the two creatures belted noises in unpitched harmony.
“Bababababuuuuuuu!” “Garuu Garuuu!” Bab—” Drimini suddenly stopped mid-verse and veered course. Something had caught her attention, and it took Eleen longer than she probably should have to realize that she was the reason.
“Y-you can see me?!” The ghost asked the small plant-girl when she’d landed next to her on the roof. Drimini took a step forward and cautiously held out a nubbed hand, but she recoiled the moment she made contact with the icy spectral essence. “I guess it makes sense. If you’re Drim’s spawn, then it follows that we’re also connected.”
“What about you?” Eleen’s gaze drifted to the small fluffy creature who was also looking her way. She didn’t know if it was intentional or if he was just trying to see what his sister saw. The ghost raised a hand in his direction, and his eyes followed it perfectly. “So you both really can see me.”
She was bewildered. Eleen had been a ghost for a while now, but neither had shown any acknowledgement or interest in her before. But, perhaps that was to be expected. Neither were the most friendly, though they did have a tendency to… “I see. I was up here alone and you were worried about me.”
Pox took another step forward and lowered his head expectantly. It seemed he wanted some pets. Eleen raised her hand but hesitated. With how the flower-girl had reacted to her touch, it would likely be the same result. But the creature insisted, wiggling his head impatiently.
“Oh wow,” Eleen gasped when she could feel his soft fur. The creature didn’t recoil at all and leaned into her hand. It was the most amazing sensation she’d felt in some time, and she didn’t want to end. Maybe those tears would come after all.
“Babuu Babuu!” Drimini started stamping her little feet impatiently, and flung her head forward, clearly a bit envious that she wasn’t also being petted. Eleen slowly moved her hand in the girl’s direction, expecting her to recoil at the first touch. She did jitter and shiver for a moment when the ghost made contact but quickly settled down and leaned into the hand as well while Eleen ruffled her leaf-like hair.
This was peace like the woman had never known. It had been uncountably long since she’d felt so relaxed, even when she was still amongst the living, not since that day when everything was taken from her. Eleen still remembered it clearly, the sand beneath her feet, the soft crashing waves, the smile of the person sitting next to her, and then the storm that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
The woman grit her teeth for a moment as the torment from that day briefly enveloped her, but she relaxed again thanks to the soft touch of those she was petting. “Thank you both. I hope you’ll let me do it again sometime. Now go on to bed. I’ll be there shortly.”
Eleen watched the two fly away, down into Drim’s open window. She decided to float down herself, back into Phon’s room for one final check. And to her surprise, her daughter was actually there, already passed out in bed without even pulling the covers up over her body—face down, buried in her pillow.
It must have been a long, hard day for the girl. The bloody clothes she’s stripped off and piled on the floor was clear enough evidence for that. Eleen would pick them up if she could, but it’d have to wait for Phon or Mallea in the morning. It was times like this when she wished she could do more as a mother, wished she’d done more in the past before it was too late.
And as her eyes wandered over to Phon’s back, memories of being a wife flooded her mind when she gazed upon the Curse Mark. Eleen floated closer and inspected the emblem more thoroughly—the globe with a bloody knife sticking out of it. Phon probably assumed it symbolized the act of her stabbing her father in the back who aimed to conquer the world, but the woman wasn’t so sure.
There was likely a deeper meaning. Her husband, Relyk, had always felt betrayed by the world itself. That was likely the underlying source and meaning behind the Curse Mark, and why he’d worked so passionately to seek out his revenge, their revenge.
“I miss you, y’know,” Eleen found herself mumbling to the Curse Mark. “We weren’t the perfect couple, and the reasons we got together were born of necessity, but… we had some good times, didn’t we?” She stared at the mark expectantly, maybe hoping for a word or two in return, but was only met with silence.
“I know you’re there,” she tisked at her imagination. “Phon mentioned you speaking to her at that mansion. And by your words, I know it was the real you. So you’re still there, somewhere, aren’t you?” Still, more silence.
“If you say something, if you come back to me, I’ll do that thing you liked,” Eleen suddenly suggested, her words slipping out soft and sensually. But then she spat when nothing happened. “Fine! I didn’t like doing it anyways!” she harrumphed and crossed her arms in vexation, but they rested back at her side soon enough.
“Well then, since you didn’t care enough to stick around after your death, I guess that means that I win after all,” the ghost suddenly smirked. “That old argument we used to have: who loved her more. You’d still be around if you still cared about her, cared enough about our legacy,” she huffed and teased.
But then the unexpected happened. The skin around Phon’s Curse Mark suddenly scrunched and shimmered, like the man himself was voicing his protest, but it was all he could manage. “Hmph, wanting to spite me to the end. Maybe if I just,” Eleen poked out a finger towards the mark, trying to imbue a little of her ghostly energy into the mark. Maybe she could jumpstart his consciousness.
Phon herself didn’t care for the intrusion, though, and suddenly shivered from the bitter cold and rolled over onto her back—hiding away her dear father for the time being. “Well, this conversation isn’t over yet. I’ll rouse you from your slumber no matter how many years it takes. You always did like to sleep in.”
And with him out of the way, Eleen’s focus returned to her daughter—an overwhelming sense of motherhood filling her heart as she stared at the girl’s sleeping face. “In addition to being a better wife, how I wish I could have been a better mother to you, Phon.”
“You were always so independent from a young age, but I guess that’s the fault of my genetics. It always seemed like you never needed my attention or affection, but I see now that I was just neglecting you. I was so caught up in the war that I never made enough time for being a parent.”
“And when I did, I always made Drim the priority, selfishly trying to get him to stop hating me. Not realizing that I was pushing you away too. And I know I’ve said some terrible things to you even since we’ve been reunited. But, I hope one day we can be a mother and daughter once more.”
The ghost bent down and kissed Phon on the forehead, difficult because she was still wearing her hat. The girl immediately winced from the cold, triggering another motherly instinct. Before Eleen realized what was happening, she found herself holding the bed’s covers, tucking her daughter in perfectly. Only when she was conscious of it did the blanket slip out of her grasp.
After all that, Eleen had failed at conducting a proper performance review. But oh well, it gave her an excuse to come visit them again on her own. She was looking forward to it. For now, though, it was time for bed.
The ghost wandered back to her son’s room, who had already gone to sleep himself. She prepared to dive back into his heart and let her consciousness fade away. But before she could, a furry head popped out of the covers. Pox pulled back the blanket, just enough to uncover Drim’s chest—an invite to join them, and so she did. For the first time in a long time, as she fell asleep, she felt the warmth of a loving family.