Hamilton Oneshots

After the War // Leebury

Haunted. Abandoned. Old. The house was built in the late 1700s and has had only one legal resident. Samuel's friends forced him to enter, he couldn't refuse their dare. All the stories he's heard from countless people felt true all of a sudden. His breath turned colder than it's ever been, Samuel was afraid his lungs would freeze and shatter within him.

"Once the war is over... Once the war is all over..." a ghastly voice said. Samuel spun in place, looking to see if one of his friends had followed him in to play some sick joke on him.

"Hello...?" Samuel said, spinning around once more in the opposite direction.

"Get out! Get out! Get out! You're not him! Get out! Get out! Get OUT!" the voice said. On the last word, a man appeared right in front of Samuel. Blood leaked in a neverending stream from his mouth, though it disappeared before it hit a ground. Samuel was frozen, it was him, the ghost from everyone's repetitive stories. Some claimed he was important in his time, others said that he was just a soldier, shot and killed at the wrong time. One thing was common among all of their stories, no one knew the ghost's name. Samuel stepped back before running to the door. He smacked it repeatedly, yelling and screaming for his friends.

"Guys, it's not funny anymore, let me out!" Samuel called out.

"C'mon, Sam, no need to be wimp. I betcha there's not even a ghost in there," one of his friends called back. Samuel screamed when he saw the ghost stand next to him.

"This is what I become? A children's game and an old wives tale?" the ghost asked, "Fuck it, once the war's over and my boyfriend returns, you can do whatever to the house." He disappeared.

"W...what war?" Samuel called out. The ghost reappeared, looking confused.

"The damned Revolution, Aaron said he'd be back when it was all over," the ghost said. Samuel felt fearful he didn't mean to anger the ghost.

"When, uh, when did you die?" Samuel asked carefully.

"September 2nd, 1780, why?" the ghost asked. Samuel pulled out his phone, quickly Googling something.

"Oh... I'm sorry, the war ended a day later," Samuel muttered.

"What? Aaron said he would come back, why did he never come back? I need him to come back!" the ghost started to shout. Objects in the room started to rise from their surface, falling down as soon as the ghost stopped talking.

"Maybe, uh, maybe Mr. Aaron died in the war, it was a rather... brutal time," Samuel offered.

"He's Aaron Burr, he didn't actively fight, he just worked on reports all day. Lord, the nights where there would only be a candlelight so he could finish his reports while I fell asleep were the best," the ghost mused.

"Aaron... Burr? That sounds familiar, like really familiar," Samuel said. He began typing on his phone, barely able to type from the leftover adrenaline in his veins. His screen showed a painting of an older man, though it was only his profile.

"Aaron," the ghost breathed. Samuel read the blurb associated with Aaron Burr.

"I'm sorry he didn't come back," Samuel mumbled. The ghost faded a little.

"He survived?" the ghost asked. Samuel nodded sullenly. The ghost seemed aggravated now. Objects floated higher in the air, smashing on the walls, the floor, anything that stood in their path. The blood on the ghost's mouth streamed faster, every biting word gave a spray of blood.

"Aaron said he would come home, you're lying to me! I waited all that time for something. Aaron's alive and fighting for the fucking war, or else I wouldn't be waiting for him! The war's not over! I hear the soldiers scream every day!" the ghost yelled. Samuel avoided the flying objects, noticing the blood drops seemed to be on the floor now. The ghost stood straight up, seeming almost human. The objects in the room landed in their unbroken, original spots. Samuel stood back, confused. The ghost stared at him as if he were the ghost. The ghost was almost fully human, except for the vacancy in his eyes. The door open and Samuel expected to see his friends laughing at his fear. Instead, the man from the painting, Aaron Burr, entered. The ghost seemed delightful.

"Aaron, you're home," he said, hurrying to hug Aaron Burr. Aaron Burr stepped out of his path, his eyes also seemed vacant, more so than the ghost.

"No, I'm not. I'm married, Charles. I came for my stuff," Aaron Burr said. The ghost, Charles, stepped away.

"I'll wait for you, Aaron, I'll wait an eternity for you. Until the war is over," Charles said. Aaron Burr shook his head.

"I'm not going to come back Charles, stop it," Aaron Burr said. Charles stepped back, looking confused.

"I'll be waiting," Charles mumbled. Aaron Burr shook his head and walked past Charles. Aaron Burr left and time passed quickly. Charles was still waiting by the door, watching. His eyes were still empty, gazing at the door.

"He was kidding. A jokester. I'll wait for him, the war's almost over, it has to be," Charles mumbled to himself. Another day passed, Charles remained still. On the third day, everything was dark for Samuel, but he heard it, he heard Charles's last scream.

Charles's ghost sat on the couch, watching while Samuel's friends helped him off the ground. Since when was he on the floor? Charles went to the stairs and made them creak just for a second. Samuel's friends almost dropped him, staring at the stairwell. Did they not see Charles? Charles made another, lower creak, as if he's been walking down the stairs.

"Once the war's over. Once the war's all over," Charles said. Samuel felt the chills to go up his spine. He knew what came next.

"We should leave," he mumbled, trying to walk out.

"I want to see what happens, you can leave, Samuel," his friend, Alexander said. Charles was getting closer, and the blood dripping from his mouth hit the floor. Then Samuel saw it. There was a huge wound on his waist, close to his stomach, perhaps that's where the blood was originating. Samuel's friends noticed the blood, staring for it's source.

"Aaron," Charles said in a ghostly moan. Samuel's friend, Aaron, paled instantly.

"Where is my beloved Aaron?" Charles continued. Samuel and Alexander looked at Aaron.

"We should probably leave," Aaron muttered. Charles kept loudly lamenting his dead boyfriend as the boys left. The minute the door shut, there was silence. Samuel couldn't help but to imagine that Charles was waiting on his sofa, watching the door.