Dancing with the Dead ✔

Chapter Two - Nearly Almost Dead, But Not Quite

"You can see me?" His green eyes widened.

Unfortunately? Yes. I nod politely.

He draws his right hand to cover his dropping jaw ever so slightly, while his other hand messes up his disheveled hair. His thumb presses one side of his lip while his fingers continue to graze his thin lips. Then, he starts to walk back and forth in front of me.

I suppose it is quite hard to process the fact that you're dead—or rather undead. Since he's both alive and dead at the same time, I'm not sure how to call him. Hell, I'm not even sure what he is.

I've seen more ghosts than anyone ever has—a gift I gained after a freak accident six years ago. But I've never seen a ghost who's still alive before. So, if these two are the same person, this would definitely be a first; an anomaly nonetheless.

Perhaps it's the barbiturate. Perhaps Claire was right and The Hill is some sort of magical place where anything could happen. Or perhaps The Almighty just likes toying with me.

Aren't you the least bit curious about him, Alexis?

Get out of here, Evil Me!

I decide to proceed to do what I came here for, checking John's condition so I can go home and sleep for the next 24 hours. But as I continue observing the man, I can't help but notice the similarities between him and the ghost who's about to drive me crazy by circling round and round in front of me.

The ghost has an almost perfect chiseled face; not too strong, not too soft. The same goes for John. Although I can't possibly make up what he looks like without all that bandage wrapping around his face, he has a straight-edged nose and an overly well-proportioned face too. Not to mention, three hours of looking at John's pre-mummified head in the OR tells me they have the exact same short light brown hair. 

The only difference between the two is the person laying on the bed is burnt while the ghost isn't.

Can they really be the same person?

See? Just admit it, Alexis. You want to know the rest of the story. You want to investigate. You want to sink your teeth in this case and bite it with all your might.

No, I don't.

Bullshit.

I brush the crazy thoughts away and continue the procedure. It doesn't take long for me to finish it. Afterward, somehow my gaze is drawn back to the ghost whose eyes seem to be fixated on John. Maybe it's the curiosity talking. Or maybe because he's just so damn good looking. Or maybe it's because of the inevitable sight of his broad and muscular chest that keeps teasing me every time he moves. But, I can't stop staring at—ahem, observing—him.

He is wearing a plain grey tee with a navy green shirt hanging loose. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled slightly below the elbow. The muscles in his strong arms are revealed even more as he clenches his fist. To think that all that layer of clothes can't even hide his muscles. I wonder what it would look like without them?

Wait. What the hell? I can't believe I just fantasize about a patient's abs. Not cool, Alexis. Not cool!

But if all that staring helps me with anything, I realize John also has strong abs—albeit less attractive because of the lack of skin—and they also have the exact same height, which is about six feet tall. Judging by their overall bone structure, I'm 95% sure they're the same person. The other five percent is because I've seen enough cases—okay, movies—involving switched or stolen identities.