She appeared to be beckoning towards him. Faceless, but even then, it was tragically easy to tell how scared the specter felt even in death.

“Are you from the grotto?” Noël quickly looked behind his shoulder, but was relieved to see a certain shop keeper was not there.

The pale ghost nodded, long, blonde hair falling over her featureless face in the process.

“Can you leave?”

A shake of the head was all Noël needed to understand.

“That man…he murdered you.”

Silence. The ghost slowly nodded her head.

“Do…you want me to help you? Is…is your corpse still here?”

A soft light voice breaks the stillness in the air. Looking up, Noël noted how the ghost was hunched over, shoulders quaking. Not from laughter, but great, heaving sobs. Tears welled from where her eyes should have been and fell down onto the ground, staining the wooden floorboards a darker shade of brown.

As she was a ghost, it was somewhat odd as to how exactly her tears could stain the floor.

So much for avoiding trouble, were the words that quickly crossed Noël’s mind as he leaned against one of the ubiquitous shelves which happened to be filled with the store owner’s [murder’s] eclectic oddities. How selfish I must be to wish I could have left before meeting her, he berated himself.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Is…it wrong to have wanted to depart from here without incident?

None of this is her fault, and yet…why do I feel so…disappointed?

The little ghost’s cries roared loudly in his ears.

It’s almost maddening.

Nothing about this made any sense.

There’s…too much death.

The young vampire wanted to die more than anything, but…was there no respite?

Was he forever doomed to listen to the silent pleas and wails of those unable to speak for themselves?

Noël grabbed his arm, fingers leaving light indents from his grip. “Please don’t cry, Miss. I promise to never leave your side until your spirit is set free.”

Her light sobs faded away and tears no longer fell down from her face.

The silence was unsettling.

---

A moth-eaten sofa was kept unturned as Noël tossed aside a striped cushion. Its brazen color scheme of pink and yellow clashed horribly with the faded blue sofa. Partially sewn dolls with a suspect leathery texture were strewn about the hardwood floor while a cookie tin containing buttons of varying quality were flung from their perch on a shoddily built shelf.

Even happily grinning plush animals were beheaded in his haste to find the ghost girl’s remains.

The unnamed girl’s hands were clasped together—almost as if she were uttering a silent prayer.

“No matter where I look, I can’t find anything!” Noël pulled at his hair bow in exasperation.

“Would you be alright if I blow up this damn building?”

The ghost buried her featureless face into her hands.

“You’re right. This place is really far, but a hunter might hear the commotion and call the cops,” the vampire seriously nodded to himself. “I’ll keep this plan on the backburner, however. You never know when you need to set off a stick of dynamite and five pounds of marmalade.”

Noël stumbled back as he pulled out a rectangular object from the atrocious, downright criminal, ugly sofa. “It’s….a portrait frame?”

He sharply gasped at the all-too-familiar face staring back at him from the picture frame. She was exactly how the man had described her…

Chestnut hair, warm smile…even the brooch Lila mentioned was there…fashioned elegantly upon the woman’s head.

Why, he had seen those blood red eyes before.

The woman that man was obsessing over…she…was…his beloved Aunt……

“Aunt Delia…!!?” The ghost girl motionlessly glided behind the vampire and peered over his shoulder.

Well, Aunt Delia would never have dated him, and that’s not just because of his…horrible tendencies and criminal hobbies.

Noël spared the image of his Aunt another look before murmuring a silent spell. As the object was now small, he pocketed the portrait. You deserve to be in a better place, Aunt Delia. I’ll keep you safe.

“She’s my Aunt Delia,” Noël addressed the ghost as he noticed her attempts to catch a glimpse of the red-eyed woman.

A silent hum rings in his ears. The spirit understands.