“You’re not mine.” I give him a swift kick in the tummy. The punt sends him skidding down the hall, limbs spiraling at his sides like a whirling dervish. He hisses at me once he comes to a stop, white flecks of saliva sputtering from his mouth-hole before he scurries up the wall. He scales the ceiling, disappearing into a fresh fracture above. I can hear the soft pad of Lonnie’s hands and knees through the walls as I make my way to the living room. He’s following me, keeping tabs on me like always. The little fucking spy.
Nobody seems to notice me—or care—as I walk in. None of the bodies on the floor move. Are they even breathing? I count at least a dozen users—maybe twenty. Every shadow hides more bodies. They nestle into one another like a litter of puppies. They seem content to stare vacantly into space, suspended in their own sickness. Each user has the same haunted look on their face—a mass-produced Halloween mask—hollow eyes, waxen skin, a rash of acne cropping along their cheeks and chin. These people brought their trauma into this house. They dragged in their past, the phantoms on their backs, in their bellies. They brought their pain. All their hurt, their loss. Their rage. They brought it in and planted the seed of what haunts them the most inside our home. Now all those seeds are blooming.
Our ghosts. So many ghosts.
I spot Marcia in the heap. She’s still wearing the same yoga outfit she wore the day I met her. A whole lifetime ago. Now the spandex is full of holes, as if it’s been chewed through by moths. Sweat stains sprawl from her armpits, the vibrant yellow faded to a bone white.
“Have you seen my son?” Her brittle voice cracks. The very words crumble in her mouth. Dust in the wind. She lifts her head, the faintest shimmer of hope flickering in her eyes.
I don’t answer. I don’t think Marcia would be able to hear me even if I did. Her head eases back to the floor once more, eyes staring off at some unknown spot in the ether.
I head to the kitchen. Tobias toils away like some whacked-out Julia Child. He’s so preoccupied with his cooking, he barely turns to look. One dull-eyed glance is all I get.
“You’re alive.” He’s bleeding all over now. His arms lacerated in weeping red symbols. The back of his neck has the same sigil from the door sliced into it.
“Sure. If you call this living.”
“Adriano was supposed to give you a new house,” he says over his shoulder. “I wanted you to have a home you could haunt all on your own. I figured I owed you that much.”
“Should I say thanks?”
“You might not believe me, Erin, but for what it’s worth, I was trying to protect you. You deserved a house for yourself. This place…This place was just getting too crowded.”
“Yeah, well, Adriano tossed me in a ditch.”
“If you want something done right…” Tobias sighs. “You look good. Healthier.”
“I’m clean.”
That makes Tobias laugh. “Congrats. How about we celebrate?”
Yes, my body aches, god yes. “This has to stop.”
“Says who?”
“I’m saying it,” I say, “as your friend.”
“Friend,” he repeats flatly. The word holds no meaning for him.
“I still am.” Even I can hear the lie of it, the outright emptiness of the words.
“You’ve still got some Ghost rattling around your bloodstream right now. I can hear the chains from all the way over here. That shit never leaves your body.”
“I’m clean,” I repeat, less certain of myself.
“Your ghosts are never through with you, Erin. They never leave. You’ll always be haunted, whether you dose or not. I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.”
I spot Silas’s lighter on the counter. REHAB IS FOR QUITTERS. I hope Tobias doesn’t notice me reach for it. I try distracting him. “Will you at least tell me how Silas found it?”
“We didn’t find it. It found us. That’s how a ghost story always starts.”
“And it killed him. Silas died here, didn’t he? In the house? Is that why you dug him up and brought his body back?”
Tobias finally turns back, intrigued. If he’s surprised I know about Silas’s missing corpse, he certainly doesn’t show it. But now he wants to chat. “Death isn’t the end, you know.”
“Was that always the plan? Start your own empire?”
“Yeah, sure. Kingpins of the kingdom of the dead. Tobias was too timid to follow through, so I took over. I found all the right books, I recited all the spells. Me.”
He must notice the confusion on my face. He breaks out into a grin that leaves him looking like the cat who ate the canary.
I’ve never seen Tobias smile like that before. I’ve only ever seen that look on—
“…Silas?”
“Our plan was to show you that first weekend, when it was just the three of you. If we could prove to you that Ghost worked, then we knew you’d come on board. Tobias just couldn’t bring me back on his own. He needed you, Erin. Your voice was stronger than his. But then you and Amara bailed and Tobias had to think fast. He let me use his body…Which is funny, if you think about it. Tobias always wanted to be me—so win-win.”
“For how long?”
“As long as I keep dosing,” Tobias—no, not Tobias, it’s Silas—says. “Death really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, trust me. I had to find that one out the hard way. You don’t know the loneliness…the outright emptiness. It’s an ocean of ash. I can’t go back, Erin. I just can’t.”
I don’t say anything, but I know exactly what he’s talking about. I’ve seen it for myself.
“Tobias trusted you. How could you do this to him?”
“He offered himself to me. He wanted it just as much as I did. Trust me, it’s better for both of us.”
I feel a flicker of fear. “Where’s Toby now?”
“He’s not coming back.”
“You mean he’s dead.”
“Just under new management.”
Once Silas was in Toby’s body, he must’ve carved the sigils into his own skin as binding spells. Now the homewrecker will never leave.
“He…” I start. What is there left to say? “He was your friend.”
“Still is. We’re closer now than ever. We were actually wondering if we could all be together. You know, the three of us…Sex is so much better when you’re haunted.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“What, has your sense of humor left you? Amara was always better with the comebacks. She’d probably call you the spiritualist village bicycle.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m teasing! Jesus, lighten up! I’m a better Tobias than he ever was. And he’s who he always wanted to be.”
“A puppet.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can stay inside him. Itches like a son of a bitch. I was actually wondering if you might want to connect. Been a while since we got haunted together.”
“Every time I reached out to you, every time I thought it was you…who was it?”
“Me. Most of the time.”
“How many other ghosts were there?”
“Why keep count? Erin—don’t tie yourself up in knots about this! You’ve got such a powerful voice. You cut through the din. We all heard you calling. You brought us here.”
My voice. My need for him. My addiction. Silas used me. Used my love for him. He knew I would do anything for him, just like some lovesick junkie, and he exploited it until I nearly died. I had died, even if it was just for a few minutes.
“Erin.” Tobias—no, it’s Silas—brings his hands to my face, cupping my chin. “You’re an astronaut, you know that? A pioneer! You took my hand and dove in. I’m so proud of you.”
I’m crying. I know I’m crying, even if I can’t feel it.
Used me, I keep thinking. Silas used me.
“Look at this.” Silas gestures to the kitchen. The gangrenous house. Its ghosts. “Look at what we’ve achieved! Think about how much further we can go. We’ve only gotten started. I want you to be a part of this—with me. We can finally be together. This can all be yours, too.”
“You got me to invite your own sister.”
“Our ghost story deserves to be heard, don’t you think? Everybody’s haunted by somebody…This is our chance to reconnect. We can all be haunted together.”