Supernatural (Tom Holland x Reader)

3. Spectre

I stood there on the threshold of the doorless room, my mouth gaping open. There was a young man sitting at the piano, picking out notes that sounded good together and running them through. Clearly he didn't play. That wasn't the odd thing about him, though. What really befuddled me was the fact that he was glowing. Glowing blue.

The Feeling came over me again, and I dropped my flashlight out of sheer surprise. It fell to the ground with a deafening metal clatter and I looked down at it in horror. Suddenly the music stopped. The young man at the piano turned to look at me.

"AAAAHHHHH!" I screamed. I couldn't help myself. I had never been scared of spirits. They had always been my friends. In fact, I don't think I was really even scared. Just startled beyond reason. Never in my life had I been able to actually see a spirit. If that was even what he was...

"AAAAHHHH!" he screamed back at me. He seemed just as damned terrified as I was. In fact, he stood up so fast that the piano bench toppled over behind him and he tripped on it. There was then a funny moment of silence then, as we gazed at each other, breathing heavily (could he breathe?).

"Wha...wait...wait a minute...you can see me?" The blue boy (he couldn't have been more than twenty) gazed at me, utterly flummoxed. His voice echoed in the room and I was sure it wasn't because of the cavernous size of it. He was a ghost...there was no doubt in my mind about it now. I'd heard that kind of echo many times. It was characteristic of a spectre.

"Y-yes," I answered squeakily. "Yes, I can." I blinked hard, making sure I wasnt dreaming after everything the boys had said that day. "I'm just not sure how." I added that last bit to myself.

"You're special then? Like Paddy?" The boy, man, whatever age he was ventured a step closer to me. I had to admit, he was extremely handsome...or would've been when he was alive. He had dark eyes and matching curly hair that flowed in whatever ghastly blue light surrounded him. He had a kind, yet sad, face and an incredible jawline. My eyes lingered there perhaps a bit longer than they should have. The other thing I noticed was a large purplish bruise that just appeared on his forehead before hiding the rest of itself away in his hairline.

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm special," I replied, gathering my courage. He was no different than Grandma Krys or John Lennon (yes, we've spoken...I know I probably sound crazy), or Benjy. Oh, Benjy.

"I would!" the spectre exclaimed, floating swiftly over to me, stopping so close that I could feel the characteristic chill. "The only other person who can see me is Paddy. I love him to bits, but do you know how lonely I've been?" He smiled warmly (can you say that about ghosts?) at me. "I'm Tom, by the way. Tom Holland."

"I'm Y/N. Y/N, Y/L/N." It sounded nothing like my praticed introduction. This one was real. "It's nice to finally meet you, Tom."

"I'm only sorry it had to be like this," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head fervently. Clearly the bruise was bothering him.

"Your family sure misses you," I told him. "I was sure you were a good man the moment I saw how much they love you."

"I feel awful," Tom nearly whispered. "Nobody's the same since...since I...you know. Paddy's the worst off. He cries every night. It's a small comfort I stick around for him, but he's still taking it the hardest. We were best mates, y'know."

"Yeah, I do," I said sincerely. "I can tell he thought very highly of you." Tom managed a sad grin.

"Yeah..." He stared off into the distance for a moment before floating around the room and to the window, which looked out into the lonely moors. He sat on the sill. "It isn't fair."

"What's not fair?" I asked, unwittingly cocking my head.

"That nobody caught her." His semi-transparent hand clenched into a fist and as if a child had sprawled himself upon them, all of the keys on the shiny white piano were all pressed at once, creating a nasty din.

"What do you mean? Who?" I turned the piano bench back over and sat down on it.

"Apathy Hardstrune." He unclenched his fist and the piano noise stopped. "She's our family's biggest rival when it comes to the business and she's out to steal our fortune. I didn't fall, she pushed me!" he slammed his hand on the glass and ice rippled outwards from the impact. So that was why he was haunting the family.

"What?!?" I exclaimed. Tom pressed an index finger to his lips, urging me to quiet myself.

"The Hardstrunes have been after us for years. Apathy is an old witch with regard for only herself. She doesn't have a family and she sure as hell doesn't have any friends. And yet, somehow, she manages to be the favorite of the entire town. She can do no wrong in their eyes. I suppose that's why nobody suspected her. 'Oh, the poor boy just fell!' That's what they all said. I didn't just fall! I was bloody murdered! She pushed me off the goddamn landing because I knew what she was!" When Tom shouted, the whole room shook. Shocked, I shrank away from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he sighed.

"That's okay. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm usually not this jumpy."

"I understand." Tom turned his gaze back to the window. I wondered what he was thinking about.

A/N: Okay, so this one was a little slow, but you know how it goes the first few chapters. What do you think should happen next? I'd love your ideas. Hugs and kisses!

LuckyHolland.