Dream for the Dead (Completed/Editing)

8

"Impossible!"
I slammed my laptop shut.
"So, you believe me?" Elias' voice by my door made me jump.
"Mum could see you. She could talk to you. It's not in my head," I stated, staring at him in disbelief.
He grinned and replied in a soft tone, "yeah. It's not in your head."
"But... but how?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm a ghost." he shrugged, "I guess since it's been my existence for the past eighteen years, I haven't questioned why or how, I've just accepted it."
"So... so, all the others are real, too?"
"Yeah."
"Why are you hanging around here, if you died in the lake?" I realised how rude I sounded - was that a rude question to ask a ghost? - and added gingerly, "sorry to hear that, by the way."
"This house was the last place we were a complete family. Plus, I love the place," he lost his smile before continuing, "when I died, I looked for my mum around the lake everywhere. I couldn't find her," he looked at me with a serious expression, fear flashing in his eyes, "I think there might be something else. Some light I missed that she found, some secret escape..."
"Are you sure you waited long enough? You know, for her to actually..." I didn't finish my sentence when I saw his expression darken in a fraction of a second.
He began to yell, "I waited around that lake for a whole week! A whole week before coming back here to see if she'd came here!"
He closed his eyes for a second and calmed himself, sighing, "then I just stayed here. Most of the others are welcoming to the dead."
"Most?" I asked, hoping for him to elaborate on who wasn't.
"Most," he repeated, and left it there.
There was a moment of silence, in which we simply stared at one another.
"When you were alive," I paused for a second, wondering whether or not I should continue. Then, slowly, I asked, "did you ever... see, or hear, any of them?"
I noticed his jaw clench, as he replied, quietly and hesitantly, "no."
"Oh."
"Some living people can see the dead when they don't want to make themselves seen. I couldn't."
"Does that mean I can?" I grinned, becoming excited very quickly.
"Well, to me it sounds like every encounter you've had has been deliberate," he crossed his arms over his chest, "so maybe, but also maybe not."
I was a little disappointed, admittedly.
"You'd probably have seen someone wandering around by now if you had the ability... then again, they mostly hang around in the basement and the other half of the house, where you've only been once."
He grinned at me.
"It's really easy to test, though. Look at me and don't look away."
"Okay."
I waited for something to happen. Nothing did.
"Can you still see and hear me?" He asked.
"Yeah?" I replied, completely confused.
"You have the ability," he smiled toothily, "I'm trying to make myself unseen right now, but you can see through it. Usually people like you live long and happy lives here."
"I'm not sure I'm as welcome as the others like me were."
He stared at me for a few moments before providing an answer, "it's probably because you're fresh. Most of them don't seem to like change. They'll get used to it."
"Is everyone who died here still in the house?"
His jaw clenched again, he shuffled around and then muttered, "why would you ask that?"
I was a little shocked by his response.
"I'm just curious."
"Not everyone. Some went elsewhere," his voice became deeper and colder since I asked the question I had thought was an innocent and harmless one.
"Anyway, kissed you?"
He was suddenly happy as ever, flashing me a mocking grin.
"Yeah, I didn't really know what else to say," I laughed nervously and looked away from him, and murmured, "sorry."
"Don't apologise. You know, I kinda wish it would've gone that way."
My eyes found him, my cheeks flushing, and we locked eyes. Time ceased for a number of moments: there was no sound, no blinking; no movement at all. Neither of us smiled.
Time finally began again when Elias spoke. "Sorry..."
"I don't mind," I smiled.
Elias blushed, his lips upturned, and he pointed to my laptop as he said, "anyway, I'll leave you to finish reading. There's one more story after mine."
He averted his eyes, his face flashed with anger, his eyes darkening and his demeanour shrinking. Then, suddenly, his expression became a picture of melancholy.
"I really don't like that guy."
He vanished before I got to say goodbye. I sat still for what seemed like forever, thinking about what he had just confessed, my cheeks burning hot and my hands shaky. Once I calmed myself, I turned back to my laptop and read on:
The house was unoccupied until June of 1998, when a 27 year old man moved into the home. He was called Kyle Grace. Seemingly ordinary in character, and a respectable businessman, Kyle had established a successful career for himself very early in life and was extremely rich for a man his age, especially after starting out as a boy from an extremely poor family.
He had an awful background; instead of TV he watched his father beat his mother and his mother torture their pet dog with cigarette burns and beltings, presumably to feel powerful due to the terrible treatment from her boyfriend. Kyle was also beaten by his father regularly, and anything that made the father angry would be taken out on Kyle. Kyle apparently used torturing frogs and other small creatures as a way to feel strong and powerful, and to know what it felt like to be in control. However, nobody who knew Kyle worried about him turning out to be a bad person once he had moved out and lost all contact with his parents. This happened when he was just 16 years old. Though, those who didn't worry should have been worried. Kyle eventually moved into Goldstein Manor and began to hire prostitutes frequently, none of whom would ever be seen again. The disappearances were finally traced back to the young businessman when he made the mistake of hiring one prostitute who happened to have a mutual friend with Kyle - a mutual friend who just so happened to receive the names of every potential client of the prostitute, so he could check them out first. Knowing Kyle, the mutual friend told the girl that he was safe - a massively incorrect description. When the mutual friend realised the girl was missing, he went to speak with Kyle, knowing he was her last client before her disappearance. The friend didn't suspect Kyle of anything, and simply wanted to know if he knew where she was going; anything to give him clues on her whereabouts. But once he arrived at the mansion, and found the door to be unlocked, what he found was not what he expected at all. There were the corpses of prostitutes all around the place, decapitated. He entered the kitchen to find Kyle frying the breast of one woman, and fortunately managed to knock the unsuspecting Kyle unconscious before he could harm the man. Kyle received a sentence of 46 years in prison for the murder and cannibalism of 18 prostitutes, but died later in hospital - it was written that it was due to a heart attack, though this is believed to be untrue; as many staff from the hospital resigned after his death, saying it was a strange death with no apparent cause, and definitely not a heart attack - after serving just 11 years of his sentence.
"Sad, isn't it? Keeping a man deprived of his greatest pleasures," a deep, threatening voice emanated from the doorway.