A Phantom 《FAIRYTAIL X READER》

3: A Phantom's Haunting

One would think to find a soul is to tread the flat plains of sand that binds the living to the dead— that to find a sliver of life on the opposite end, you must find their name in a library of lives.

Now that's stupid.

It reminded her of how people often assumed that she was the grim reaper herself— reaping the souls of little ones and the elderly and guiding their way to the underworld. She always hates having to explain why she was not that and that she can't see what time they're going to die. Nonetheless, she always humour the idea that there is a library in the underground with the names of the living.

But possessing a death scythe does sound cool— and with a neat cloak too? Honestly maybe she was robbed of having a book of life and death and a cool death scythe. Though, she likes the way she is now, sort of.

Half lidded eyes would move constantly, as though wary of whoever may come up to her. Though she never had trouble with people coming up to her— Juvia once told her that she was just too scary to approach. Not that it bothered her in some way, with too many people to remember, she tends to forget more important information. 

She kicked her feet up onto the table, leaning back into her booth. She wore something more fitting for the atmosphere, and discarded herself of the hat she would often wear. Despite the need to fit into the crowd, she did not wear anything dazzling or elegant— appeasing more to a casual side of things.

One would think that she was waiting for someone, perhaps a friend. But she already found the one she was waiting for, at the far end of the large nightclub. She did not recognise him by his profile, or his attire. What made her realise her prey was in the same room as her was how greatly their soul stood out.

It did not resonate with the others, but remained unmoving. A person like him would be considered banal by most, but it intrigued her further. Not only did he not let the people lower his guard, but it seemed like he too was here on a job. Which makes this all the more fun— for her.

And just like her interest, her hunger increased.

Her lips stretched into a smirk when her eyes followed the retreating figure of her prey. She lowered her head with a coy smirk, and sunk further into the booth's chair. Her body ripped into black threads, slowly consuming herself in a foggy black smoke that blended in with the atmosphere. What remained was the chillingly bright eyes, before they too, became nothing. It spread out like a stringy mass, only to reconnect back at the entrance of the nightclub.

And she was whole again, as though it was just an apparition in the nightclub.

That ghostly gaze returned in her eyes, and she couldn't help the giddy smile when she felt the soul of the man she tracked. She was nimble, quick on her feet. She made not a sound when her feet pounded against concrete roads and rooftops. The foggy remnants of her previous tricks lingered around her body— and if spotted, it would surely give the impression that she really is part of the supernatural.

Her eyes were wide, unblinking and unnaturally keen. She followed his soul through walls and houses, forever on his tail. No matter where he went, however matter where he turned, she was there. On the lamppost, in the store window, and in the darkness of the forest, she was present. 

Though, at the end of the day, he was nugatory. Just another one of her assigned hauntings. It's not that he had something special about him that made him a more compelling opponent, he's just a man. An older, taller, familiar man.

Though maybe it's because she was given his picture in a folder. But she can't help the odd feeling that she has seen him from somewhere.

Though if she had let Gajeel come with her, he would've told her exactly where he's from, given the man remembers everything.