"Application"

0.1 Spooky AU 1.0

Happy Halloween, you guys! <3

(Spooky/Supernatural AU)

___

It was dark.

Muffled sobs met your ears.

Your gaze fixed on the small, barely glowing form of a child.

Recently, those who visited the Jayde Kings Park had been reporting that they would hear a crying girl whenever they sat on a certain bench.

As a witch, one of the only species of supernatural's that could interact with the dead, it was your job to track down the spirits that were tethered to objects or places (ghosts) and send them off to the spectator realm so that they would become spectres.

'Mama said if I stayed put... she'd come back...'

The little girl's voice rang out in your mind, a youthful, echoing voice that was distorted by her crying.

You pasted on your 'about-to-talk-to-a-dead-child-smile' and came to kneel in front of the bench.

She looked down in confusion, sniffling. 'Miss, are you dead too?'

It was reassuring that she at least understood her death. Sometimes ghost-children had no idea that they weren't alive and explaining it was always extremely annoying. In response to her question, you forced yourself to maintain a reassuring smile and said, "No... I'm here to bring you to your mother."

She gasped, joy lighting up her eyes. 'Really? Did Mama send you?'

You nodded. "She did. Would you like to know how to be with her again?"

She shook her head 'yes' with vigor.

"You need to let go."

Confusion colored her features. 'Let go?'

"Let go of the world. You no longer belong here."

Her lower lip wobbled. 'I dunno how though...'

You smiled gently and stood up. "Stand up and walk away from the bench."

'Walk away?'

"Yes. Come, I'll walk with you." You extended your hand to her and she hesitantly gripped it, eyes widening.

'I can touch you!'

You shrugged. "Not exactly. What you're touching right now is my spirit. My kind is particularly in tune with their spirits, so we can feel through them, and other spirits can feel us through them."

The girl stared at you in bewilderment.

Right. She was a child. How could you have expected her to understand the strange oddity that is your world's manesology?

"Never mind it." You sighed, guiding her into a standing position and slowly leading her away from the object she had tethered herself to.

'Mmm... so I'm really gonna see Mama?'

A pang of guilt pricked you at the reminder of your lie, but you ignored it and answered her with a 'yes'. The spectator realm was where this girl... this spirit... belonged, even if it (in your opinion) seemed like a lonely, boring place to spend eternity.

It wasn't even one place, but a variety of separate layers of reality in which those who had died could view the world after their passing. They turned into their baser forms, which resembled bright, swirling masses of color and emotion. They could go anywhere they pleased and watch any thing or person they wished... they just couldn't interact with the world in any way.