New #RueLouPrompts!
— Lou □ ✍️ (@lw_writes) May 23, 2020
"Never seen a ghost like..."
Same rules as always:
□Write a piece of flashfiction inspired by/containing the prompt
□Tweet myself and/or @sparks_writes to be included in the master list by THURSDAY 4th JUNE
□Stick to <500 words
□Have fun!#prompt
GHOST OF MINE by Maxime Jaz©
Jason walked into the abandoned house, that distinct chilled musty air wrapping around him like a shroud. His flashlight roamed the shadows, cobwebs eating the light. Up the creaking stairs to an abandoned landing, the thick dust fluffing under his feet. A door, ajar, so he pushed it open, vaguely hoping to find some sort of treasure, ancient relics of long-dead people, maybe… As a ghost hunter, he hoped he would find one, or at least, some sort of presence lingering in that grey gloom.
A large bed, the thick red blanket covered in dust. A floor length mirror, half draped with a white sheet. Golden edges gleaming as the torch licked it. He brushed the sheet to the ground, lifting his eyes to the reflection. A soft kick to his chest when he met that dark-haired stranger’s blue eyes, as his mind registered that he wasn’t seeing himself in that mirror. He extended his hand, and the stranger did the same, their fingertips touching. His breath short when the stranger’s hand pushed through the glass and gently brushed his hand. Ice cold touch, and he recoiled, backing to the bed, as the stranger stepped out of the mirror. His eyes roamed the room and settled on Jason who had sat on the bed, his legs too weak, his words stuck in his throat. Mesmerized by that man, his curiosity battling his fear. I should run…but it was impossible, and he watched, powerless, as the stranger walked to him and sat on the bed too. Trying hard to ignore that his weight didn’t bend the mattress, that he had no heat radiating from his body, his black T-shirt and jeans hugging his frame. His pale skin with a silver sheen. The stranger’s blue eyes went to him, amused.
A deep voice which made him shiver. “Scared?”
Am I? Jason swallowed. “No…I don’t think so…I should be?”
The stranger shrugged. “Depends…what are you doing here?”
“Hunting ghosts…looking for treasures.”
The stranger smirked, his dark purple lips curling into a smile. “Happy?”
“I guess…” He studied him curiously, reaching his hand towards his bloodless arm. “May I?”
“You may.”
Jason touched the stranger’s arm, his skin eerily cold, but almost like velvet. He ran his palm down his forearm, his heart drumming in that quiet room.
The stranger shivered. “Your hand is warm…nice…”
He left his hand on his hand and met his blue eyes. “Never seen a ghost like you…”
“Really?” He leant close, his lips parting. “Have you ever kissed one?”
Jason closed his eyes as those ice lips met his pulsing lips, the ghost’s freezing touch on his cheek. Opening his mouth wider. He tasted like fresh snow you’d lick off your hand as a child, and Jason leant back on the bed when the ghost's hand went to his chest, wrapping his heart into that familiar winter day cold.
Jason walked into the abandoned house, that distinct chilled musty air wrapping around him like a shroud. His flashlight roamed the shadows, cobwebs eating the light. Up the creaking stairs to an abandoned landing, the thick dust fluffing under his feet. A door, ajar, so he pushed it open, vaguely hoping to find some sort of treasure, ancient relics of long-dead people, maybe… As a ghost hunter, he hoped he would find one, or at least, some sort of presence lingering in that grey gloom.
A large bed, the thick red blanket covered in dust. A floor length mirror, half draped with a white sheet. Golden edges gleaming as the torch licked it. He brushed the sheet to the ground, lifting his eyes to the reflection. A soft kick to his chest when he met that dark-haired stranger’s blue eyes, as his mind registered that he wasn’t seeing himself in that mirror. He extended his hand, and the stranger did the same, their fingertips touching. His breath short when the stranger’s hand pushed through the glass and gently brushed his hand. Ice cold touch, and he recoiled, backing to the bed, as the stranger stepped out of the mirror. His eyes roamed the room and settled on Jason who had sat on the bed, his legs too weak, his words stuck in his throat. Mesmerized by that man, his curiosity battling his fear. I should run…but it was impossible, and he watched, powerless, as the stranger walked to him and sat on the bed too. Trying hard to ignore that his weight didn’t bend the mattress, that he had no heat radiating from his body, his black T-shirt and jeans hugging his frame. His pale skin with a silver sheen. The stranger’s blue eyes went to him, amused.
A deep voice which made him shiver. “Scared?”
Am I? Jason swallowed. “No…I don’t think so…I should be?”
The stranger shrugged. “Depends…what are you doing here?”
“Hunting ghosts…looking for treasures.”
The stranger smirked, his dark purple lips curling into a smile. “Happy?”
“I guess…” He studied him curiously, reaching his hand towards his bloodless arm. “May I?”
“You may.”
Jason touched the stranger’s arm, his skin eerily cold, but almost like velvet. He ran his palm down his forearm, his heart drumming in that quiet room.
The stranger shivered. “Your hand is warm…nice…”
He left his hand on his hand and met his blue eyes. “Never seen a ghost like you…”
“Really?” He leant close, his lips parting. “Have you ever kissed one?”
Jason closed his eyes as those ice lips met his pulsing lips, the ghost’s freezing touch on his cheek. Opening his mouth wider. He tasted like fresh snow you’d lick off your hand as a child, and Jason leant back on the bed when the ghost's hand went to his chest, wrapping his heart into that familiar winter day cold.