Hollstein Shortfics Collection

Hollstein ghost /living person AU

Laura Hollis. 22 years old. Journalist intern.

You're living the dream. You didn't think you could get a flat like this for such a good price. Best neighbourhood in the city, wonderful view, almost new heat, two rooms, one big kitchen, fireplace at the living room. And the best thing? Two blocks far from the newspaper. Nailed it!

The first night it's so strange. You lived with your dad all your life, you had to live with him even at college to save money. So, this is actually your first night living alone.

Damn! You should listen to your dad and bring all those bear sprays he was offering. Are there bears in the city? Well, you never know.

Shit! What was that noise? Was it at your kitchen? No. Wait. It was at your living room! Yup. That sounds like your books being throwing away all around the place.

Fucking fuck. You hold the baseball bat Kirsch gave you as a 'happy first flat' gift with all your strength. Hopefully your two years in krav maga could make the deal.

When you get to the living room there's nothing but a mess. All your books outside the boxes. You has to run to save the poor 'prisioner of Azkaban' which is about ten inches near the fireplace, which you're sure you extinguished before go to bed.

But there's no one there. Who the hell gets into houses to go through their bibliography and the vanish like smoke. That doesn't have any sense.

"Who's there? I'm armed and I'm not going to hesitate in use it! Really? My books? Couldn't you find another thing to mess around? Those books are sacred! They are knowledge fonts! Have some respect for written treasures and death writers!"

No answer. Dead silence.

You check all your doors and they are closed. Maybe a cat went inside and then ran away. Maybe a giant black cat seen all the mess.

You go to sleep.

Three days. Three days in a row and you barely could sleep four hours. Every night is the same. Furniture moving, windows open up by magic, dishes flying around the kitchen, more books attacked.

The worst thing is that cold shiver you can feel every time you get to shower and the mess your underwear drawer turns every morning. So when you come back to your room there's always an inappropriated match of underwear waiting for you. Weird.

To the sixth day your driving crazy. You need to get out of there, but honestly where more could you go. Not your dad and surely you barely can pay for that room. You know now you're not that lucky. You just got a flat with a poltergeist. That's why were so cheap.

And apparently a very horny poltergeist.

You don't know how they manage to know when you're in that level of nakedness but they always does things to make you run half naked around your house (mostly whole naked). They opened all the faucets around the house at the same time. Some other time they set the fire alarm on. Today they played angry existentialist metal music very loud.

You're so tired right now. You try everything but this. But this is really your last resource. A fucking Ouija.

"Listen. I'm not a believer of the whole mystical beyond death thing but Ok, lets just talk, uh? Maybe I can help you and you can leave and I can finally sleep well and you just go to the light and all that so I can live happy here"

You must be mad. You're talking with no one but air. But then the stupid table moves.

'Yes'

"Are you a girl or a boy?"

'R-e-a-l-l-y c-u-p-c-a-k-e-?'

"Ugh. This is hard. I'd never spoke with a ghost before, Ok? So?"

'L-a-d-y'

"Great! I mean. Not that was a bad thing being a boy but I love girls. I mean like solidarity and love love but now I'm talking about solidarity not love. Definitely, not love"

'H-a-h-a-h-a-h-a'

"You just really used a two hundred dollars Ouija to laugh at me?"

You kept all night talking whit her. You learn her name is Carmilla and she lived there. Two years ago some burglar entered into the apartment and he were so nervous that he shot her when she caught him. He died two months later in a crossfire with the police but she couldn't go away. She were a philosophy major. She was studying while lived there. She liked the stars and their immortality sense but find ironic her own. She's kinda funny actually. Till her sense of humour is very sarcastic and dark.

You pass the next moths 'talking' with her every night and you find amazing that there's no topic you couldn't get into.

She's passionate. She's cute. She's so romantic. She's everything you want. She's not there. She's not even real.

You know you must let her go. It's been a year from that first night and she must go on, and you too. This is so hard. Just thinking no having her around you. Even when she tries to touch you giving you cold shivers or being all creepy when your trying to get dress without dropping the towel.

You decide this is your last day with her. You should go on and let her rest. So you want to give you some kind of present. Since you came to this apartment she'd been trying you wear some lacy underwear. The one she should be wearing the night she got killed. So you give her that. You get out of the shower naked and take the black lacy panties and bra. When your in front of the mirror you swear you can feel her behind you. Her arms around your waist. Her lips on your neck and a cold breath travelling through your nape. You swear you can see her eyes, warm and lovely deep brown eyes. You swear she's about kissing you but then she's gone.

There's no more ripped fantasy books, nor messy showers, nor loud anoying music. Just silence.

From that day on you know Carmilla is no more there with you. She followed her path. And you're sure she took your heart with her. But you also knows someday, somehow, you're going to be with her again. No matter the years. No matter the waiting. No matter the way.

You're going to be returned to her arms.