The daily life of a ghost in Oletus manor

Chapter 22

Ever since that certain conversation with Hastur a few days ago, all Claude could think of was what the god has said to him. Of the possibility of them dying, for real now, without a chance to ever come back. And with that invisible knife hovering above their heads, Claude wasn't really that surprised when the usually calm and mostly peaceful atmosphere surrounding the hunters became thick and cold as if suddenly all the liveliness was sucked away from them.

It just wasn't fair.

Wasn't taking their freedom away enough for that person? Weren't they suffering enough already, thrown inside a place against their will, being forced to play a never-ending game of hide-and-seek? Burdening them with all the blame, making them seem to the other faction as if they were the monsters as if they chose to play this game.

It was easy, to place the blame on others. And yet, Claude couldn't exactly fault the survivors for that, because even though the hunters did not find any pleasure in hunting their prey, hurting them, terrorising them, how could the survivors know the truth behind all the lies they were fed with by the Host all those years? (Even though, there were quite a few of them who saw behind those very same lies. )

But still, threatening the hunters with their lives if they refuse to hurt their prey... it was just too much. What would he do if something was to happen to his brother? To Hastur? Or anyone else, really. After all this time he spent near them, watching them from afar, they slowly started to grow on him.

The Guards, the Geisha, the Queen, the Lizard... he even started to like Jack, who seriously creeped him out at first.

He loved watching the playful banters between them, he adored listening to the sweet voice of the Geisha's singing, her elegant dance with her fans, he cherished spending time around the queen, her peaceful presence always managing to calm his racing heart, and he loved to listen to the conversations between the Lizard and the Old man, even though most of the time, he couldn't understand a word of what was being said by the two of them, especially when that two certain survivors were also present. Old man also had the habit of drinking some alcohol with the Lizard and a few others at night, after a hard day of playing the game, and it was always so funny to watch their drunk selves babbling about some utter nonsense.

He also loved watching the Axe-boy playing with the others, even though it always made him very sad, because no matter how much he wanted to, there was no way for him to join them.

Not to talk about his brother. His twin, who acted so graceful, so elegant and gentle, like a true gentleman when he was surrounded by the others, protecting his real emotions by a carefully built-up mask, even though sometimes, when he was having an especially hard day, this mask would crack, letting some of his hidden emotions get out from beneath those cracks.

Claude wasn't sure which Joseph he hated the most. The pretentious one, who hid his true self behind the facade, or the real Joseph, who was so broken, Claude was afraid there was no way to save him anymore.

And to be honest, he wasn't the only one who saw through the facade. Sometimes, it scared him how observant the other hunters seemed to be. Especially Hastur and the Geisha.

"Are you alright, child?"

"I am fine." he let a heavy sigh out, his eyes watery from all those heavy emotions flashing through his mind. He looked up at Hastur, a small pout appearing on his youthful, pale face. "What about you? Are YOU okay?"

"Why would I not be?"

"Well, it's not me whose life is on the line. I am already dead."

"Mn. No need for unnecessary worry. The Host does not have the ability to kill me."

"Then... Why are you even here?" Claude did not understand this logic- if Hastur was more powerful than that man, why was he obeying his orders? Why did he even come here, to begin with?