Spirit of Esther
Editor's Forward: This was based on a prompt that can be found here. I've added italics to that portion. I thought this was going to be a sweet ghost story, but things didn't go to plan.
“Who are you?”
You look up, wondering if you imagined the faint voice. You are sitting in the living room of your new house, enjoying a drink after finishing your unpacking. You look in the direction of the voice. Is that a pale figure you can see there?
The translucent figure looks like a woman. She’s tiny, barely eighteen inches in height, and floats in the air. Her features and limbs are mere suggestions, like smudges in the air. Two darker patches in her face might be eyes. Wispy trails of hair extend away from her head, tied with what looks like a red ribbon. She wears a dark red flared dress.
“Hello?” you say. “I’m William. I just moved in here.”
She bobs up a few inches higher. “How exciting!” Her voice is a whisper, barely audible. “I live here. I’ve been here for - well - a long time. I don’t know how long.”
You frown, looking at her lower body and the smudges that are her legs. “Do you, ah, have three arms?”
She gives a start, and twists her upper body slowly. “Yes,” she says. “Why? How many am I supposed to have?”
“Um, well, if you were human - two, as a rule,” you say.
“It’s hard to remember the right shape sometimes.” She is silent for a moment. “I can’t make the extra one go away,” she says. The air grows colder and she seems to shrink into herself. Her hands drift to her face, and her body begins shaking slightly.
You kick yourself mentally. “Um, well, it’s nice to meet you.” You think frantically. “What kind of things do you like?”
She stops shaking and looks at you. “Like?” she says in her whispery voice. There is a silence. “It’s been so long, it’s hard to remember.” Another pause. “I like... people. Company. I was happy to see you. And I like... music, and... something else involving music, I can’t think what it was called...”
“Um, would you like to dance?” you venture.
This sounds like a dumb thing to say the moment it comes out of your mouth, but she instantly brightens and floats toward you. “I would love to!”
You put on some music and stand up. She floats around you, pirouetting and twirling, rising above your head and back down to the ground. She is impossibly graceful. You feel like a lumbering dinosaur by comparison, but she doesn’t seem to care. You feel a tiny hand grip yours and clumsily spin her around. She whirls across the room, laughing with a sound like rustling paper.
After a short time she floats down to the ground, dimming slightly. “That was fun!” she says. “But I’m tired now. I need to rest.” She’s fading into invisibility as you watch. “But I’ll see you again later!”
“What’s your name?” you ask the empty room.
A faint thread of a voice reaches your ears. “Esther.” The room falls silent again.
That night you sleep restlessly. You toss and turn, trying to get comfortable. Eventually you drift off to sleep... You wake in the morning, wondering if you imagined the apparition. You go to the window to check, but there is no trace of anything out of the ordinary. However, later that day you get a call from a distant relative of yours. “Hey William.” You recognize her voice, but can’t quite place it. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you, what are you doing these days?”
“Um, well, uh...” You clear your throat. “I’m living here. It’s a new job, in England, you?”
The line is silent for a moment. “Hello?” you say. There is some shuffling and a cough on the other end of the line. “Ah, William, where are you? Are you still there?”
There is shuffling, then a click. The wires in this old house must be hit or miss. “What? Who is this?”
“It’s me. I got your number from your cousin. I was wondering, do you still have that Ouija board?”
“I do.”
“My family... we went to this spooky house once. It was in the middle of nowhere, and we kept having these really weird experiences. My cousin said people had been seeing ghosts there.”
You recall your experience last night, but keep it to yourself. “I’d be happy to give it to you. It’s in the attic.”
“Perfect! I’ll be over in an hour.”
You hang up the phone without another word, your pulse quickening. An hour later your friend shows up with a few others. They are all in their twenties, and the four of you sit at the dining room table. The Ouija board lies in the center.
“We need to do some groundwork,” your friend whispers. “All fingers must be on the planchet.” She whispers the incantation in your ear, and you repeat it. You all hold hands, and your friend leads you through a short chant. Then she puts her index finger on the planchet.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
You nod nervously.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Contact, are you here?” The planchet drifts to ‘Yes’.
“Are you with us?”
‘Yes’ again.
“Are you all right?”
‘Yes’.
She opens her eyes again and looks around the table at her friends. “Are we safe?” It moves now to ‘No’.
Shit! “Are we safe?” ‘Yes’. “Are we safe?” ‘No’. “Are we safe?” ‘Yes’. “Esther, please, can you help us out here?” The rest look at you. “How did you know her name was Esther?” your friend asks.
You’ve been caught out. “I can tell the difference between the spirits of people I know, and all the rest.”
“Oh,” she says, looking disappointed. “I bet you were moving the planchet on purpose.”
You feel your face burning hot, as your friends laugh. “I was trying to help.”
One of the other guests makes a suggestion. “How about a new game. I call it: Strip Ouija.”
“I don’t think so,” you say.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not an exhibitionist.”
“Esther will strip for you,” says one of the men. They all tease you and call you a pussy.
You storm out of the room, and run up the stairs to your room. You hear them laughing behind you, but you don’t care. You’re angry at being called a coward.
“Fine!” you yell. You grab the planchet and drift it to spell: ‘Shirt’. You take your shirt off in anger. “There...”
You hear your friend say something and look up. She is pointing at your chest. Suddenly you realize a dark, shadowy figure stands behind you. A cold chill runs down your spine. You choose to keep that to yourself too.
“Now who’s the pussy,” you ask.
“Oh, stop it, William.”
You begin to undress and throw your clothes on the ground. One by one your friends strip too, until you are left with your shorts in your hands. The girls present are in their underwear.
“Come on, let’s play!” one of them says. You have no choice. You too take off your shorts to join the others. The dark, shadowy figure is still there. You can see it in the mirror. As you look at your naked reflection, it moves closer to you, until it is behind you. Your heart begins to pound. You drop your shorts.
They all laugh at you, but their jeers fade into the distance. You hear the figure come up beside you. You feel its breath on the back of your neck. Your heart pounds. You begin to shiver. Your palms are cold. You can feel the planchet moving. ‘Come to me.’ You let out a long, shaky breath. The figure passes through you like wind. The others aren’t so lucky. Your friend is tossed in the air, her bra and panties ripped off. The other guests are likewise stripped and humiliated. Your heart pounds. You can feel the planchet moving. ‘Come to me, William.’ You move towards the mirror. ‘We need the room clean, William.’ Your heart pounds. Your friends are on the floor, crying and trying to cover up. You look at your naked reflection, staring back at you, and you feel a strange, cold pulse move through you. Your hands are cold. ‘Touch it, William.’ You hear the whispering voice in your head. You press your palm on the mirror.
The pulse moves again, and you feel dizzy. ‘Touch it.’ You touch the mirror, and feel the glass bulge outwards. Your reflection rips the mirror in two.
You hear a loud noise downstairs. Your blood runs cold. ‘Go to the window, William.’ You do as you’re told. Outside, you can see a crowd of villagers surrounding the house. The front door is broken open and people are running around inside. You can see the villagers dragging people out of the house, forcing them outside. The screaming stops.
‘Come back to me, William. The game isn’t over yet.’
You hear the thud and splintering sound of a heavy object striking the floor. The house creaks and groans. The floor is shaking. Your friends are tied up on poles naked. There is blood all over the floor and walls. You hear the whispering voice again. ‘Kill the guests. We need to keep you happy.’
You look around desperately. The whispering voice is nowhere to be found. That bloodcurdling noise is back. The floor is shaking violently. You hear the whispering voice again. ‘Get the girls up to the roof. Kill them.’
You look around, and see a long, thin box with a handle on the side. You open it. Inside is a thin blade. You slide it into your pocket. You look at the others tied up on the poles. ‘I’m sorry.’ You cut their ropes and free them. The whole house is shaking and creaking. “Come up to the roof. It’s the only way.” They obey you. They scamper up the stairs. You follow behind.
You reach the top of the stairs and find another bedroom. You point them in that direction. “There’s a staircase inside the closet.” They go in. You follow them. As you step through the doorway, an icy cold wind blasts you in the face. You look down and see the polished wooden floor gleaming in the moonlight. You hear the whispering voice again. It’s very faint, but you can hear it. ‘Kill them, William.’ You look up and see a figure standing right in front of you. It beckons you up then disappears. You continue to the roof.
“Why are we up here?” they plead.
“Quiet.”
On the roof you can see the trees of the park and the houses of your village. You can see the village hall in the distance across the park. “There’s only one way down,” you say. You slice your dagger across the throats of the other two guests. Blood gurgles down their bare bodies. They reach out to grasp each other’s hands but fail to make contact. They tumble out of sight.
“Why can’t we just go back down?” Your remaining friend asks.
You sigh. You never saw her as anything other than an acquaintance before, but not with her bare breasts on display and tempting lower half. You pause as your eyes take it all in. You let out a long, shaky breath. “I’d say you’ve got a good five seconds before someone calls the police. You’d better run.”
She darts over to the edge of the roof and pauses. There’s nowhere to go. She turns back and says, “Let’s go. We’ll talk about it later.”
You nod and join her. You feel the cold wind move over your bare skin. But this only ends one way. What could have been...will never be. You give her body one last lustful gaze and swing your dagger. The blade cleaves through her skull and out the other side. She disappears from view.
You hear the police sirens in the distance.
You are haunted by the ghost of a naked girl. As the sirens get closer, you watch her floating around the room. You can see her bare breasts, the outline of a girl’s pubic hair and the shadowy outline of her legs and feet. You look down at your other friends, still falling to pieces. You try to scream, but your voice is gone. Your friends try to get to you, but their hands pass right through you. Even the police are having trouble getting close.
The sirens grow louder and louder and then stop. The ghost floats back up to the ceiling and disappears. You’re left standing in the middle of the house alone. Standing there as the blood drops down your body, Esther appears. ‘I’m so glad you came back, William.’
“Why have I done this?” you ask. You don’t even know. Then she starts to laugh.
‘You’re a naughty boy, William.’
You try to scream but nothing comes out. You look down at yourself and see that you are covered in blood. Your body is broken into pieces. ‘It’ll be easier if we start with you’, she says. ‘We don’t want to dirty ourselves.’
As hard as you try, you can’t move. You’re just a pile of bloody flesh and bones. ‘I don’t know how many hours he has left. Kill him before it gets too cold, William.’ The blood has soaked through your clothes and started to run down your legs.
Esther drags you through the floor and dumps you in the park. She releases you. You try crawling away, but you can’t move. The cold has dulled your senses. A crowd gathers around you. “We don’t know what the hell he is. Keep away. Move away.”
You lie there. The grass is covered in frost and dead leaves blow through your gaping mouth. The sky is a blanket of darkness that won’t let a single ray of light break through. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is the overwhelming sense of loss.
‘I have so many questions.’
You don’t have the strength to speak. You’re completely lost. Even if someone could hear you, you wouldn’t know what to say.
‘I suppose this is what it feels like to be dead.’
You call out to Esther, “I thought you only wanted to dance!”
You try to laugh, but it comes out as more of a horrible hacking. Blood stains your clothing. “I can’t die, not like this. It’s not fair!”
Esther appears before you. ‘Fair?’ she asks. ‘Life isn’t fair, William. In fact, life is shitty. It’s shitty and unfair and miserable and stupid.’ She scoffs.
“You seemed so nice...so innocent.”
‘I’m not. And I never was.’ She laughs. ‘Now, get out of here.’
You try to stand, but you fall onto your back. You reach out for her. “I love you...”
‘You’re pathetic.’
You try to laugh again, but it’s full of blood and your lungs fill with the fluid. You cough and splutter and Esther fades away. You lie there, broken, and watch as the sun rises.
No one notices you.
You crawl away and die.
Editor's Thoughts: Huh, that was a twist for the worse.