Deranged • Ghost N.H. au

Nine

A/n: Oh my god you guys, Deranged is currently ranked #229 in Mystery/Thriller! *Dies*

Be sure to check out the trailer for Deranged if you haven't already, I'll attach it to this chapter as well.

My hands lost their grip on the small piece of paper, making it fall down like a dead leaf in the fall. When it hit the ground, I found my voice and called for him as hard as I could.

"Niall?!" I yelled as my eyes scanned the area for any signs of him. Seconds felt like hours as he wouldn't show himself, almost if he was completely gone. Not just dead, gone.

"Niall?! Please!" I almost screamed, my voice trembling as I held on to the table for support.

Moments passed when I finally saw him appear, almost like smoke rising from the ground. His beautiful face standing out against his cold, cloud like looking body. His face was set in confusion as he approached me.

"What's wrong?" His voice was laced with concern.

He must've noticed the letter on the ground, it hadn't moved an inch since it fell from my hands. He bent down and picked it up while raising his eyebrows. His body might be gone but his hands looked like they could hold a much greater weight than my own, his shoulders like they carried so much sorrow on them and his face like it had seen so much pain.

I'm not talking about muscles, I'm talking about the strength of his spirit, the strength of his soul.

His eyes scanned the small piece of paper that held such a big message, rapidly reading over the lines before his face contorted in anger before he looked at me again.

"Who sent this?" His voice sounded cold and his eyes looked dark, they were starting to go back to the same black color I had seen when he was strangling Ethan, two weeks ago.

"I d-don't know, it was just laying on the doormat, I don't know who sent it. Please, Niall, I need to know who did this!" I rambled when I suddenly remembered something.

Niall used to play with me like this, he used to do these kind of things

"But you must've seen someone, a car in the dri-" He stopped mid sentence when he noticed my facial expression. "What?" I took a step back, making him raise his eyebrows in confusion.

"Did you do this? Are you trying to get me to leave again?" I spoke, trying to sound intimidating but failing miserably.

He was silent for a couple of seconds while he just looked at me. "What? No! That was weeks ago! Why would I sent you a letter if I could just throw you out of the house myself? That doesn't make any sense!" He spoke firmly, taking a step towards me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I have accepted the fact that you live here now and quite frankly, I don't want you to leave anymore." He smiled sadly. "I think I need to tell you what really happened inside of this house." He took my hand in his, the contact still foreign to me as he lead me over to the couch. We both sat down, facing each other. He took a deep breath, well, not really a breath because he is dead. It looked like he took a deep breath.

"My mother, Maura and my father, Bobby were well known in Mullingar. They were always there if you ever needed a hand, a listening ear or just a cup of coffee. Not just for me but for everyone. There were times when I'd come home from school and my mom would be sitting in the living room with a complete stranger that she just met in town, because they were lonely or because they needed someone to listen to them for once. That's the kind of people they were, my dad as well. "

He smiled, probably at the thought of his parents before he continued.

"In my nineteen years of living, I don't think they ever had a fight or an argument. They just knew each other so well, they loved each other to the moon and back. It was August 29, 2006. I don't think I can every forget that date. I was held back in my senior year of high school so when I was nineteen, I was still living at home. I was walking home from school that day, I walked up the steps of the front porch at 4.19 pm. I remember because I got a text from my best mate, Harry, just before I was going to open the front door."

He seemed to be having a hard time as his story inched closer to his faith, I suppose. I reached out and took his hand in mine, flashing an encouraging yet sad smile at him. He gave it a slight squeeze before he continued.

"When I opened the front door, I almost threw up because of the disturbing smell. It smelled like there were hundreds of dead, rotting pigs laying our inside the house. But those dead, rotting pigs turned out to be my parents. I remember falling to my knees when I saw them, laying on the ground, hand in hand. But they weren't actually holding hands when I crawled closer, their fingers had been cut off. When I dared to take a look at their faces, I immediately wished I never did. Their lips.. Their lips had been cut off. The same lips that had kissed my forehead when I went to bed for so many years, had just been cut off, like it was nothing. I remember that I felt like I was going to die as well, just because my breathing had become so ragged. It felt like someone was choking me to death while in all honesty, I think I was just hyperventilating."

He started rubbing small circles on the back of my hand, which was still holding on to his, with his thumb.

"I think it was a message. A message from the killer himself. They couldn't kiss each other anymore and they couldn't hold each others hands anymore, not even in death. I didn't have much time to think about that, eight years ago because before I knew what was happening, I felt a piercing pain in my chest and tasted the metallic taste of blood. It felt like hundreds of gallons of blood were making it's way up from my chest, all the way up through my throat before it started to seep out of my mouth."

"I don't remember much about how I died, I was attacked from behind. All I know is that when my soul, my spirit or whatever it is that I am now, left my body, the sight of my body laying in front of me on the ground was the most horrific sight I had ever seen. I think a few days passed when the police arrived to the scene. They had been informed by hikers who passed our house and had smelled the gruesome smell. Our bodies were carried out of the house by police officers and the house was cleaned. Like nothing happened.

It took some time for me to fully realise that I wasn't alive anymore, that I didn't have a body anymore. It took me two years to learn how to touch objects or people with this body."

I had tears in my eyes, that Niall, who seemed almost too calm for the whole situation, started to wipe away the tears that had rolled down my cheeks. His thumb caressing my cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Niall, I don't know what to say." I choked out, more tears streaming down my face.

"Don't say anything, it's alright." He whispered, biting down on his lower lip.

"Anyway," He continued. "It took me two years to learn how to touch something or someone. I had to fully realise that I didn't have a body, a real body anymore. For those two years, I tried to kick things with my feet, move things with my hands and touch things with my fingers. But I had to learn how to use my mind to do all those things. I had to kick, move and touch things with my mind."

I smiled, thinking about how he was touching me right now, his thumb caressing small circles on the back of my hand. He was actually touching me with his mind, not his body. Somehow, that just felt more real than anything.

"I think the reason that I am still here, not like my parents, is because I still need to do something, I need to do something very important. I need to find the person who did this to me and my family."

A/N: Guys! Hello!

I feel bad for my little Neil. Poor baby.

Don't forget to vote and comment, I absolutely love them and they make my day. (and the more you comment & vote, the higher this story will be ranked!) *Nervous laughter*

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