Naomi,

I hope this letter finds you. I asked my folks to deliver it to you after my passing.

First off, please don’t be sad. While I may have lived a short life, it was still a fulfilled one. Thanks to you, In my short 2 year run, we helped 12 spirits move on and we put 4 people behind bars. That’s a life well lived. Without you none of this would have been possible. When no one took me seriously, you did. For that I’m going to be forever grateful.

Honestly, we made a pretty good team. I liked to pretend we were sort of like starsky and hutch. That is if Starsky was a young kid about to die of cancer and Hutch was a tall black woman with a bad attitude.

All jokes aside, I wanted to let you know that I gave your number to the next person in the list. I doubt they will be nearly as cool as I am or as entertaining as I was, but let's be honest, no one can live up to that standard.

In all seriousness, they will have a hard journey, and I hope that you can mentor them through this like you did for me. We both know for a fact they are going to mess up, and they are going to get in trouble. It comes with the job title.

Once they fail, they will want to quit. I need you to convince them to keep going. The world needs them. These spirits need them.

I don’t think you ever fully believed me when I was alive but I hope you’ll believe me now. The hardest thing about this new power comes from not being in control of your own body. I can’t tell you how many nights I’d be doing one thing and I’d wake up somewhere completely different.

Maybe this power makes you part werewolf or something. Either way, it’s a terrifying experience and they will never get used to it. When it does happen to them, I hope you’re there to help them through it.

I know with you around, they will be in good hands. I’m sure once they get a full grip on their powers, they will be a valuable asset for you. They just need to survive long enough to unlock that potential.

I want to add one parting note. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to help you more with Grayson and DeSean before my time came to an end. I know how much they meant to you. Maybe the next person will be able to help you solve their murder. All I can say now is I’m confident after all of our searching that they have moved on to a better place. When I’m up there, I’ll be sure to find them and tell them how amazing you are.

Love from the afterlife,

Alex

###

I carefully folded the letter and hid it in my wallet. It was a reminder of all the good Alex had managed to do in his two years on the job and the work I needed to do to live up to his legacy.

The part about the two men at the end interested me. Maybe once Naomi and I become more comfortable around each other, she’ll bring it up. Speaking of Naomi, she had been diligent after I pointed out the Grey Civic man.

She called in a favor and had a tail put on him before she dropped me back off at Big Al’s Catfish Haven. While I appreciated her thoroughness, I had my doubts much would come of it. To get that many vengeful spirits around him, he clearly knew what he was doing.

On second thought, It was entirely possible I had misjudged the situation and pin pointed the wrong guy. Perhaps it was a coincidence that the spirits circled him like a pack of hungry wolves. Well, there was no use second guessing myself now. I already pointed him out to Naomi.

The day had been long and eventful. All I could think of was a warm shower to wash the smell of fish guts from my body. You know it’s bad when you can smell yourself. Before I could do that, I had to finish what I started.

As much as I wanted to track that man down right away to confirm my suspicions, that mystery would have to wait. Alex was wrong about one thing in his letter to Naomi. I may be an idiotic kid, I may make tons of mistakes, and I may lose control from time to time. All of that was true. One thing I’m not though is a quitter.

Nicole needed my help, and she hadn’t been herself since we left the car. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing you could put your finger on. Instead, it was something shared between us, a spectral connection of sorts that even I struggled to understand. Since we left, she had radiated this deep, unshakable worry. Time was running thin, and I couldn’t wait for Naomi’s wellness check to come through.

No, that would be too late. It was up to me. That was the explanation I gave myself as I stood in front of the old man's home.

With the sun still above the horizon, the house seemed less foreboding than it had in the dead of night. That still didn’t stop me from being absolutely terrified as I worked my way onto the property. My muscles twitched involuntarily as I approached the driveway. As I reached the front step, the air shifted. Something was wrong. Something bad.

The front door stood wide open. Harry was nowhere in sight. A shattered bottle of Jack Daniels lay scattered across the porch, shards of the broken glass glistened off the sunlight.

I picked my way carefully around the mess, trying to stay quiet as I peered into the house. It was empty. Empty and wrong. One of the guns that usually sat mounted on the wall was gone, as were several pictures from the mantelpiece.

I heard the creek of a footstep on the porch behind me. I went to pull back, but my motion was abruptly halted.

I felt my eyes involuntarily shift to the top of my head. It wasn’t until just before my body hit the floor that I realized what had happened. Something hit me. Something hard. I felt my body smack hard onto the ground but I saw nothing. The faint smell of whisky was the last thing I remembered before I succumbed to the darkness.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

###

When my eyes finally opened, I found myself in the garage behind the house, hands bound to a chair with rough rope that bit into my wrists. I wriggled and squirmed, but they refused to budge.

The space was mostly empty, save for a single table covered with junk and an old folding chair. Everything else had been stripped away. Plastic tarps lined the floor and walls, the kind you’d see in crime dramas just before things got bloody. That wasn’t a good sign. It appeared Harry had been planning to end it all for a while.

On the table were the pictures of Nicole, Nancy, and Harry Monroe. The locket sat beside them, along with a few other trinkets I didn’t recognize. It looked like he had spent a while huddled around this table looking at the trinkets. That was my best guess. I based it solely on the amount of empty bottles of beer surrounding the table.

Harry sat in that lone chair, his gun aimed at my torso. I don’t think he was fully there. The man that threatened me did not appear to be the husband in the photos, instead he was just a shell of a man.

He spoke up. His words slurred, almost incomprehensible. “Why’d you sneak into my house last night? Don’t pretend I don’t know who you are. You left the drawer open ya know. You don’t touch my girl's stuff. I should kill ya right now.”

My eyes flicked to the knife strapped to his belt. Shit, what was he going to do to me? He had a knife attached to his hip and a gun pointed at me.

“Please, don’t hurt me! It’s not what it looked like. I was here to save you!”

“Save me?” Harry’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Son, I’ve been dead for years now. There ain’t no saving me. All you did was give me the final reminder of why it’s time for me to go.”

“That’s not what your daughter thinks.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Harry shot up from his chair. He was fast for someone his age. In a flash, the gun was inches from my face, the knife gripped in his other hand.

I forced myself to hold back the impulse to vomit. The smell that radiated from the man was otherworldly. It was clear he was unwell.

“Don’t you talk about my daughter!” Harry growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.” He momentarily lost his balance and stumbled forward.

I winced as the knife sliced into my cheek. A trickle of blood ran down my face. I was tired of all this damage to my body.

“She’s here now,” I said, gritting my teeth against the pain. “I see her! She’s right there in the corner. You have to believe me! If you could see the pain she’s in, watching you do this…”

The knife didn’t hesitate as it plunged into my leg. A scream ripped from my throat, agony blurring my vision. For a moment, the room spun, and everything faded away. But in that darkness, she was there. Nicole. A light in the shadows.

I called out to her, pleading with her to do something. Anything. “Nicole! Help!” She reached out and touched my chest. I felt a spark and then she was no longer there. But she wasn’t gone.

My body felt strange, no longer mine. My limbs were heavy and unresponsive. It was at that point I realized—Nicole had taken over. The pain was gone. What happened? This feeling was… unreal. I had never felt anything like this. I had become a guest in my own body.

When my mouth opened, it wasn’t my voice that came out. It was hers. Soft, pleading. The voice of a daughter who had been trying to reach her father for years.

“Dad, stop! Don’t do this to him! Please, Mom and I wouldn’t want this for you.”

Harry’s grip tightened on the gun, and he shoved it closer to my chest, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Stop it! You’re not her! My daughter is dead. My wife is dead. I have no one left in this world!”

“At ten years old, you took me to that father-daughter dance. Do you remember? I stood on your toes, and we swayed to that song from Tarzan—the one about always being in your heart. You leaned down and whispered in my ear that no matter what happened, you’d always be there for me. You said I’d never be alone, because I’d always have you.”

Harry’s face crumpled, his bravado cracking under the weight of old memories. His hands shook, and the gun wavered. The anger that had fueled him for so long was draining away, leaving behind something hollow.

“How do you know that?” His voice was barely a whisper now. “I… I don’t understand.”

“When I turned thirteen, you took Mom and me to Dollywood,” Nicole continued. “It was the last family vacation before she got sick. We stayed in that little cabin in the woods, remember? There was a homeless man that you gave some food and a blanket to. You told me that everyone has good in them and sometimes people just need help. You need help now dad. Let us give you that blanket.”

Tears welled in Harry’s eyes. He backed up to the table and slowly lowered the gun. He kept it hovering just over the table. Nicole’s words seemed to have pierced through his grief. He was just a broken man now, missing his family. He was lost in a world without them.

“I love you, Dad. To the moon and back,” Nicole whispered. “Please, for Mom and me… don’t do this. Let him go and don’t take your life. Please!”

Harry’s hand finally let go of the gun, and it clattered onto the table. The sound echoed through the empty garage, a final, resounding note. He stared at me—or rather, through me—his eyes were filled with an ocean of pain.

“I’ll always be here with you, Daddy,” Nicole said, her voice softening. And then, just like that, she was gone. I felt control of my body return, my limbs heavy and aching.

“Nicole… no. Nicole, come back. Please, baby! I need you,” Harry’s voice was raw, desperate.

“She’s still here, Harry,” I said, my own voice weak and trembling. “She’s always been here. She’s your guardian angel.”

Harry looked at me, eyes hollow, but that flicker of understanding was still there. “Oh god, what have I done? You just tried to help me. I’m sorry for this.”

“It’s ok, you weren't yourself. Let me go and we can fix this.” I winced. Doing my best to speak through the pain.

“I’m sorry. There is no changing what I’ve done. Although I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Harry reached for the gun again. This time, there was no hesitation. He pressed it under his chin.

“I’m coming, baby. Daddy will be there soon.”

The shot rang out, deafening in the small garage. My ears buzzed with the aftermath, the sound reverberated through my skull. Harry Monroe was everywhere now—on the walls, on the floor, on me. I sat there, frozen in shock, unable to process what had just happened.

In an instant, Nicole was gone. There was no bright light to take her. One moment she was next to me, and the next, she wasn’t. It was almost like she had never been there at all.

I felt like a piece of me had left with her. I guess Alex was right. Protectors move on when their work is done. But this didn’t feel like a job well done. This was an absolute fuck up.

I was unable to move, to think. The shock had temporarily numbed the pain in my knee.

The sound of sirens grew louder in the distance. A neighbor must have called 911 when they heard the gunshot.

It was too late to run. Too late to hide. And honestly, even if I could move now, I’m not sure I would. At just seventeen years old, I’d been stabbed and watched a man take his own life. That wasn’t something you just got over.

I stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry, Nicole. I failed you.”