exanimate

𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

Casper is sitting on the edge of the railing of the balcony to his new room - a fucking suite.

In an ironic twist of fate, it has everything from home, sans looking the same. The walls have changed since he arrived, though, going from plain beige to soft orange, just like home, so it's safe to assume that it'll match his room in the Real World within a few days.

The same photos of him and his family sit on the mantle, the same brightly colored clothes hang cheerfully in his closet, with the darker colored ones pushed to the back. He's changed out of his bloodstained clothes, wearing dark gray sweatpants and a plain black hoodie.

"If I jumped, what would happen?" he asks, and Victoire scoffs.

"So many ghosts have tried. Go on," she says from her perch a few feet away, hovering in the air, shimmery gossamer wings flicking to keep her aloft. She's changed too, matching his sweatpants-and-hoodie theme, only in light blue.

Starting at her in a mixture of shock and confusion, Casper jumps. It's surprisingly easy to do it. It's scarily easy to do it.

At first, it feels like regular falling, but a few feet before he hits the ground, everything seems to slow down, and then back up, as he magically shoots up again to his perch on the railing.

Victoire sits next to him, and her wings droop, just barely. "I didn't think I'd see anyone from home for a very long time still," she says, and while she's normally an open book, right now Victoire's shut tight, under lock and key.

"Yeah, because it was my goddamn choice," Casper laughs, bitter. "Sorry. I'm not mad at you. You've been so great to me since I got here. It's just..."

"Yeah. I get it."

"How'd I die? Do you know? You shook your head earlier, but I thought maybe..."

Sadly, Victoire shakes her head again. "I'm really sorry, Cas. I wish I could tell you, but I'm not allowed."

"Not allowed, or don't know?"

"Not allowed," she says, taking a deep breath like she's severely annoyed by this fact. "The Council - uh, they pretty much rule the afterlife - wipe people's memories so that no one knows how they died. It's not allowed. It's literally the first thing they do when you cross over and you're in the Comfort Room - the cozy white one where you came in first?"

Casper nods, licking up the facts like he was back in history class. Any facts he could gain were precious to his escape plan.

"So basically, they thought that they Afterlife was supposed to be like a new beginning or whatever - no one's allowed to know how they died, so they could make a clean slate."

Casper nods. Victoire knows how he died, though, and he'll get that information out her her if it kills him over again.

Speaking of being killed again...

"Where do all the 'bad' people go? Like the mass murderers and serial killers and whatever?"

Victoire's eyes go cold and hard in seconds, and Casper knows he's screwed something up.

"And- sorry, forget that last question," he blurts, still not knowing exactly what he's going to say. "Um. Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry that was. Really dumb."

"It's fine - really. Just... ugh. You remember my dad. I'm still all weird about it. Says my shrink, anyways.

"There are... therapists here."

"Shocker - they die too."

Casper blinks. Victoire wasn't like this in Casper's memories. He was 16 when she died at 12, and he was her favorite person and she was his - they'd been best friends for years before Casper had fallen for Ryder, and Casper had thought that they'd have been for long after.