Strange (boyxboy)

8

Oliver cast his eyes away from Quinton's drilling orbs. He felt nervous as he leaned into Dan, he didn't like the way the ghost's gaze felt. It sent cold chills through out his body and guilt ate at him. He hated the fact that he wasn't trying to go talk to the ghost, but at the same time he was sort of proud. He was finally living a life of his own, and in that moment it didn't matter if he was ignoring Quinton- he needed a few minutes for the living.

"Oliver?" Said the mostly unfamiliar voice.

The wintery boy turned and attempted a smile at Shyanne. She looked concerned as she stared into his eyes. "You okay?"

All of the attention rested on Oliver and he looked down in embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out a bit, I guess." He heard Dan chuckle and felt as the blonde male nuzzled lightly at his shoulder. "Of course you were." The play boy said.

Oliver looked up and was immediately met with Shy's piercing black gaze. Their eyes were locked together- Smoky grey and coal black. She looked suspicious and it unnerved him. He watched as she glanced directly at the spot Quinton stood, not seeing but knowing. When she looked back to him again he lost his breath and stood suddenly.

Everyone at the table eyed him in shock. "Sorry. Bathroom." Oliver said then rushed from the lunch room. His nerves were shot. Could she seen spirits? The question was worth millions.

Never in his life had he met someone just like him. He knew there were many people in the world who were different, people like his aunt. Some could see the future, others read minds, then there were people who could control with a simple command. Shy, though, she seemed to stare right at Quinton. And here eyes, they were a pure black color. No green, or brown, or blue- Just black and white. People who were different always had at least one physical identifier. Just as he seemed drained of color, her eyes told stories.

He worried at his bottom lip as he paced the empty hallway.

If she could see what he saw, they could solve this together.

He might not be alone in all of this.

It was a hope Oliver didn't want to let go of. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to finally talk to someone who knew the loneliness- the pain, of constantly having to be around the dead.

Oliver jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder and whipped around to see the tall girl standing there, short hair brushed over her obsidian eyes. Her pale skin clashed so greatly with the color he almost flinched, but he could how beautiful she was under the slight layer of darkness he could see around her now. The piercings on her face shone in the hallway's light and that was what he focused on.

"You saw it." She said simply.

The wintery boy nodded, but frowned. "It?"

"I can see and sense energy. The thing you were looking at was flickering, so it was easy to notice. I'm assuming it was something dead?" Shy asked.

Oliver took a few steps back until he hit the wall then slid to sit on the floor. She couldn't actually see spirits, or feel their deaths. Though the hope shouldn't have been there, it was. He didn't want others feeling what he felt, but at the same time it would've been amazing to not be alone.

Her presence in front of him made him gulp. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but I think we can work together."

"Work together to do what?" Oliver asked her.

"I've lived here for several years, but lately the energy has been... disappearing, but not? It stays but gathers, and I feel the loss of something, I just don't know what. I think we can help each other."

***

Oliver was left reeling. Even though he was greatly disappointed by the fact that Shy couldn't see spirits, he was happy someone else knew something was wrong with the town. She could help him and hopefully they could fix whatever was happening.

After returning to the lunch room, Oliver was quiet as he leaned into Dan. The rest of his day had been spent thinking, and as soon as he was home he'd gotten on his laptop and was doing more research. Now that Shy could help him he really wanted to find out what was happening. Energy, spirits, that had once been here were disappearing but staying.

Oliver was so confused. Nothing about this town made sense to him. Greenfield, Iowa was a mystery.

Teens went missing.

Ghosts were gone.

Something was after him.

Oliver pushed his laptop to the side of his bed and groaned. He glanced at his newly repaired window and thought over every weird thing that had happened to him since arriving in Greenfield. The bruises, his window, the dream. Save us- the phrase that he'd heard so many times.

The pale teen rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes. He was so tired, but he didn't want to sleep. There was too much to think about and he really wanted to talk to Harley about Shyanne. His body had other ideas, though, because minutes later his eyes closed and he was out like a light. He was forced into the darkness of his mind.

"Help us, Oliver."

"Save us."

Oliver blinked but was still blind, black surrounded him. It was too dark. The voices around him were in unison, calling out to him. He wanted to see those who were talking to him. He was becoming desperate.

"Please," He said sadly, "just show me who you are." He turned and tried to see something, anything.

Two hands landed on his shoulders, but he didn't jump. He felt calm, even though the unknown fingers tightened around his skin. He felt as cold lips pressed against his ear, and it wasn't just one voice that spoke. Several came from the one being. "We cannot reveal our selves."

"Why not?" Oliver asked as he tried not to shiver from the chill. "Too weak, he keeps us weak." The voice was slowly becoming raspier. "Doesn't want us to reveal, forbids it." The hands loosened and slipped from his shoulders, the presence behind him faded. "Save us."

Oliver cried out as the being entirely disappeared. "Wait!" He called, turning left and right. "Please come back!" He felt around blindly but nothing met his finger tips. He was alone.

A scream ripped from Oliver. He jerked upright in bed and breathed out heavily, the fear pumping through his body hurt. He didn't know why he was scared, it was just the feeling that came from the dream. With a sigh he collapsed back onto his pillows. The sweat that covered his body disgusted him, but he felt to weak to move. The clock beside his bed read 3:23 AM, and the time startled him- dead hour.

He closed his eyes and rubbed at his cheeks. "Who is he?" He asked himself out loud. There was of course no answer.

A/N

I realized it's been almost a month, sorry!

Hope this chapter was okay (:

VCF