The sound of Elias’ coughing echoed throughout the house. What he perceived as air rushed into his lungs faster than he could handle. His hands instinctively went to his neck. His skin was smoother than it should’ve been as if it had been rubbed to a glassy state. Once he regained his composure it dawned on him that he was not alone. There weren’t too many with him, just him, his ghost and his corpse.
The spectre refused to enter his sight. Instead he danced just at the edge of Elias’ vision, like a shuddering in the universe itself. Every time he tried to get a better view the ghost would slide around behind him and reveal himself just out of reach on the other side. Elias couldn’t feel heat of course, but he imagined that his poltergeist was slowly stealing it away.
“What do you want?” Elias asked.
“Because I’m lonely of course.”
Elias tried to spot his spirit again, without success. He couldn’t feel anything except when his ghost tempted a touch. Then, Elias felt the tickles of an unfathomable amount of whispers running down his neck to the small of his back. His ghost quickly withdrew though as soon as Elias reacted.
“I don’t want your company/” Elias admitted.
“ Why not? We used to have so much fun together.”
“You ruined my life.”
“Oh, don’t be so modest. You did that all on your own.” The ghost said.
Elias couldn’t see the ghost pointing, but he knew he was being directed to see something. Something he knew was there but was too timid to view on his own accord. Across the room, it the corner Elias saw his dead body. It swung gently as the fluids succumbed to gravity. As the elasticity of his flesh fled it gave just off just enough force to give his corpse motion.
“I did it because of you.” Elias cried.
“Contrary to what it may seem like, this is no time for existentialism. We must be going.”
“I don’t want to go with you.”
“Like in life, a man doesn’t simply leave his sins at home. You are coming with me.”
He knew that no amount of arguing or stubbornness was going to keep him from the journey. The void was waiting for him. He had sent the invitation himself, it’d be rude to keep it in suspense. He held out his hand, his ghost was surprisingly tender as it wove it’s fingers in his. It was a relatively short trip. Just one step.