Chronicles of the Desolate

Ghosts

[Written in 2018, unedited]

Egon Splenger-the name conveys a highly charged personality that attracts powerful ideas.

Althea Baker– A name that has its roots in Greek mythology, it means "with healing power"

"People suck. Especially my people."

"What's the difference between your people and mine?"

"My people stumble through the door and attack anything they see. They smell like weed or strong drink too."

"Oh. Did they attack you?"

"That's why I'm here."

"Oh."

"It's ok, I don't care. I've gotten used to it. Besides, I know exactly when they get home most times, so I just climb out the window."

"But your room is on the third floor!"

"That's nothing. Remember old lady Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"She left her keys inside her apartment, and I told her I would get it. That was five floors."

"Aren't you scared?"

"Of what, heights?"

"No, of falling, and dying."

"......I have nothing to live for."

~*~

Egon was scared. Flames licked up the walls and nipped at everything from under the door. He feared if he opened the door, fire would burst into the room and devour everything in its path. He covered his mouth with his shirt, but it did little to block out the smoke. When he coughed, his eyes watered and his throat burned. He heard a crashing sound outside the closed door and backed away quickly, thinking the floor was collapsing.

The door flew open and from the inferno a person stumbled into the room.

"Al!" Egon choked out. He threw his arms around the older girl, sobbing.

"Shhh." Her hair was singed short, her face sooty and clothes burnt. She had a fireman's helmet which was far too big for her head, tilting to the side. The two held each other tight.

Just as Egon opened his mouth to say something—anything— Al drew back quickly and kissed him quickly, then pulled away.

Surprised, Egon let Al drag him to the window and threw it open. The pair was greeted with refreshing clean air..... that was swiftly replaced with the smoke coming from the apartment.

Althea leaned out the window and stared down five floors. It was the back part of the apartment building, dark and abandoned. The fire raged on in the East part of the flat, where most of the windows faced the street.... Where everyone was.

Turning back from the window, she pulled Egon back into a hug. Taking off the fireman hat and putting it on the younger boy's head she whispering softly between kisses.

"Thank you—" a soft peck on the right cheek.

"What...?" Egon's glasses were sooty and fogged up.

"For being there—" another peck on the opposite cheek.

"Al—" He could barely see her facial expression.

"For being my friend—" a lingering peck on his forehead.

"Alth—" He almost broke rule number 1.

She placed her lips on his mouth again, silencing him. "I love you..... and I'll see you on the other side."

Before he realized what she meant, or could even reply, she wrapped her arms under his shoulders and lifted him. In one stride, she was at the windowsill and Egon felt the brief sensation of free falling, before unconsciousness overtook everything.

~*~

August 16, 23 years later

The ends of summer was palpable. The leaves were turning orange, and the evenings were getting colder. Egon found himself becoming more and more absent minded as the days passed.

More and more things kept reminding him of the past.

It didn't help that that day was slowly crawling closer.

Once, he sat tinkering with his life long project, when the basement door swung open suddenly and a breeze drifted down the stairs. He'd closed his eyes, breathing deeply, preparing to yell out for Venkman to stop leaving the door open, when he'd felt a soft brush of a hand. He half turned, expecting Janine Malnitz to be there, but was met with nothing. Frowning he picked up his P.K.E meter, and found it blinking softly. Turning it around in his hands, he pointed it just over his shoulder, the soft blinking grew louder, but remained gentle.

Not all ghosts were bad.

This was a good one.