Tord X Reader oneshots

Ghost!Reader

(Can be considered part 3 to Red Soldier!Reader)

Y/n's POV-

The halls seemed to have a filter over them, like waving and they filled with fog. I'd see others pass but they looked like they were all from different eras of time and they would never acknowledge me. I'd scream and yell but no one would even look at me.

Time never passed either, and the sun never moved from its spot outside. I couldn't find an exit no matter what hall I went down. I always came back to the bloody shoe prints I left behind.

I ran at full speed towards the end of the hall just to try something. I didn't stop and expected myself to slam into the wall.

But I didn't.

My body fazed and fell to the other side. I laid on the floor bewildered for a second before I stood back up. I brushed the weird dust off me. "First time?" I jumped and looked beside me.

A man dressed in very old military clothing, maybe 1920s or 1930s. "I- what?" I stared at him. "I'll take that as a yes," he said before starting to walk off. "Wait! Please! What's going on?!" I briskly followed him.

"Short answer, you're now in limbo. Long answer, you're in 'The Station'" he turned to me. "Also stop screaming all the time, you're annoying everyone in the north section," my face burnt red when he said that. "I- wait- what's 'The Station' exactly??" I asked him.

"The station is whatever you need it to be. Find and finish everything you were supposed to before crossing over," he said. I had a feeling as to what he meant and it scared me. "Uh- ok thank you-..." I didn't know his name.

"Erik," he smiled.

I smiled back and nodded. He turned around and walked into the blue fog that surrounded the room. I took a deep breathe and pushed my way through too. "Seems you managed to wander from where you passed on. Just think about the place you wanna be and walk through there,"

He pointed at trains coming and going through the fog. "Thank you! Will I see you again?" I asked him. "Most likely not but I wish you well on your journey," he waved at me and gone in an instant. I took a sharp breathe and boarded a train.

Many ghostly figures from different time periods sat on the old worn seats. Some were transparent, opaque, or both. Some their cause of death was obvious, but others I couldn't tell. I quickly sat on the closet seat I could find, next to a person in a civil war uniform. They used their rifle to keep themselves from falling over. I just stared at the departure board on the ceiling, noticing it was lined with names, not locations.

"Were you shot too?," I tensed up and slowly looked at them. Their eyes burned right through me, directly at my bullet wound. My hand instinctively covered the wound on my chest. "I can't remember much of my life but I remember the last battle I fought in. The United States will never forget, just like me," their southern accent was thick, but empty.

"I- I'm sorry..." I said to them. They didn't say anything else besides, "you've got a friend in Pennsylvania,". I swallowed and turned away from them. I had no idea what they were trying to insinuate, unless they've been dead so long they can't even remember their own life? I quickly looked away and shook my head.

"George Jones, 1863,"

A speaker sounded in the train car. They slowly stood up and limped out the open door into an open field lined with old buildings. My heart rate immediately went down after they left. The image of their eyes burning into me is now burned into my brain.

I sat there for whoever knows how long. Tens of names were called and many kinds of ghost got off and on. I waited and waited while staring at my old beat up shoes.