2024 Story Collection

The Hero Named Ghost and His Soulmate II

Lucy sat at her makeshift desk in her studio apartment. It was the old attic of one of the cities tallest apartment buildings. It was old, the walls were not insulated, the power was an extension cord from the floor below and there was no heat or AC, but the view was incredible, the roof didn't leak and the skylights lit up the large space beautifully. Also, the rent was $200 a month. She couldn't have dreamt up of anything better, except for maybe a bathroom that she didn't share with a downstairs neighbor. But she couldn't complain. The old brick walls, hardwood floors, and vaulted ceilings were more than worth it.

She stood, stretching her arms and back. She'd been sitting for too long again. It was a bad habit of hers. When she painted, sketched, journaled or did really anything she found enjoyable, the whole world would disappear around her and only her and the project existed.

Her father told her it was a gift to be able to work continuously without distraction, but to Lucy, who had been sitting for twelve hours straight without moving, eating, or drinking, it felt like a curse.

I'm starving.

Her eyes drifted over to the makeshift kitchen in the corner of her apartment, but on the way, something caught her attention: the clock.

The old clock and much of the furniture in the apartment were left behind in the attic that was used to store the owner's junk. It hadn't worked at first, but after pulling in a few favors with a friend's brother, she had a beautiful working clock. She just had to keep it wound.

The clock read 3:13am.

Her eyes widen and she rushes over to the window, looking out at the roof of a nearby building. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. She saw a speck of a man teleport from roof to roof. Following the same path he always did. Her smile widens as she watches him.

Ghost.

Ghost was the city's hero. No one knew his identity or how exactly he'd gotten his powers.

He often sat on the rooftop of the building across from her as the night led into morning. She guessed it was the time when most criminals returned home-a time of peace for the city.

She still remembers the first time she'd seen him. It had been deep into the night or morning, depending on your schedule. She had just finished a painting that had taken her a week to complete. She was exhausted and happy to finally be done. She had gone to her window to look out at the skyline and just let her mind drift, relax, and calm down.

She'd noticed him then, sitting on the ledge. She had grabbed her notebook and sketched him. He looked so at peace, so calm. It made her feel calm, too. It made her feel at ease to have someone to share her euphoric early mornings with, even if they were a building apart. By the time the sun rose fully, he was gone, and she fell into her bed, asleep before her head ever hit the pillow.

She'd expected it to be a one-off thing, but the next night around the same time, 3:15am he was there again. The next night, too. And the one after. It became a habit.

She'd find herself waiting for him, looking forward to those few hours. She'd often sketch him or paint him. He was a great source of inspiration for her.

She couldn't see much more of him than his dark silhouette, but from what she could see, he was mesmerizing. The way he moved was surefooted and confident. His head was kept high, though always hidden by a hood. He was light on his feet and had the posture of a dancer.

He often wore a long cloak that covered his face and most of his body. He wore gloves to cover his hands. He wore these fancy black boots too, with a short heel. She couldn't get a good enough look at them, but she enjoyed playing with the idea that he was a country boy and wore a cowboy hat and a fancy belt buckle with a flannel shirt and jeans under that cloak.

She'd laughed at the thought. Shaking her head, trying to push away that image of him.

She looked at his dark figure now. The cloak blew in the wind as he walked across the roof to his usual spot. He took a seat at the edge of the building, looking out into the distance. She often wondered what he was like? What kind of life he lived when he wasn't playing hero?

Their were many heroes, one for every city. Some had two. Most with unimaginable power and strength, some even immortal. Ghost wasn't that. He bled, and he burned. He was considered one of the weaker heroes but he felt special to her. She'd always been drawn to him. She'd felt that he was special because he couldn't just rely on powers alone. He had to be smart. She'd mentioned it to others, but they'd never understood. Neither did she fully. He just always kept her attention.

"What if my soulmate was a hero, like you?" she asks as she looks at him. A blush grows on her cheeks. She forces herself to turn away. "Likely not."

She walked over to her kitchen and made some food, or rather, she pulled out some leftovers and ate them cold while sitting on the small kitchen counter.

After she'd finished, she'd walked back over to the window and was surprised to still see him there. The sun was now beginning to rise and normally he was long gone by now.

He looked up at her and her heart throbbed in her ears as they made eye contact. Every part of her wanted to run and hide, but for some reason, she didn't. She smiled instead and waved.

He just watched her for a while before he finally waved back.

To be continued...

February 29, 2024