Ghosting

4

Eventually, he started to get used to the presence of the ghosts. Sure, it always unnerved him when Remus walked through a wall or Patton just... floated down through the floor, but he was kind of adjusting. He just had to ask them not to carry stuff around when one of his friends was over. Patton's heart was in the right place when he'd made cookies for Joan, but Joan had been kind of freaked out when they saw a sheet of cookies just floating towards them.

That had been hard to make up an excuse for.

It was actually pretty nice to have them around. Logan enjoyed reading anything he could get his hands on, which included Thomas' books. Finally, Thomas had someone to talk about his favourite books with, since the fandoms online consisted of about five people and half a block of Ramen.

And Patton, unlike Thomas, loved to cook. As long as Thomas kept the kitchen stocked, Patton loved nothing more than to zoom around the kitchen and prepare meals. And the food he made was really, really good. 

Virgil was like having a pet cat, something Thomas couldn't have because he was allergic. Virgil could normally be found on either a surface that was not meant to be sat on or hanging upside-down from the chandelier. Thomas had recently introduced him to emo and punk music, and he didn't see much of his laptop after that.

Roman and Remus were two gods of chaos. Thomas had nearly been decapitated several times by Roman slashing a fireplace poker around, pretending to fight a dragon who lived in the parlour, and Remus took an absurd amount of joy in sticking his head through a wall, screeching, and flying away.

And anytime Thomas was in the warden's office, Deceit hovered in the doorway, eyes narrowed. Thomas did his best to ignore the demon, but the gaze felt like it was burning holes in his head. He couldn't close the door without reaching past the salt line, and he was willing to bet money that the second he did that Deceit would grab him and drag him into the pitch-black depths.

Strangely, Deceit didn't really look like a demon when he wasn't attacking Thomas. He was actually even younger than Virgil, with jagged brown hair and bloodshot brown eyes. Like Roman, he actually had wounds; each temple bore what looked like a third-degree burn and palms covered in strange scratches and scrapes. Thomas had tried to ask him about them, but Deceit stayed silent, glaring.

Well, he wasn't silent all of the time. Thomas had knocked over or dropped several items when Deceit randomly screeched out of pure spite. 

One day, Thomas noticed Deceit staring at the water bottle he'd bought with him. Deceit pointed at it, waiting for something.

"What? My water?"

Deceit nodded, then pointed at himself.

"Um..." Water bottle, Deceit- "Oh, do you want my water bottle?"

Deceit nodded earnestly.

Thomas debated it for a few seconds; Deceit hadn't exactly been on good behaviour, but he was also completely capable of screeching while Thomas tried to sleep.

"Sure," He tossed the bottle into the basement. Deceit zoomed after it, and Thomas went about his cleaning.

A few minutes later, his cleaning was interrupted by a screech. Deceit was back in the doorway, water bottle n hand and annoyed expression on his face. He mined unscrewing the lid, then threw the bottle back at Thomas.

It hit him in the face.

Freaking melodramatic demon.

Thomas unscrewed the cap and handed it back to Deceit. Deceit nodded once, then flew back into the basement.

Thomas was almost done with the shredding when the plastic bottle struck him in the side of the head.

"Hey!" He glared at Deceit. Deceit glared back, then slunk back into the basement. "Weirdo."

-

"Is something bothering you, Thomas?" Logan asked, "I fear for the safety of that plate if you continue scrubbing it so vigorously."

Thomas put the plate down. "It's Deceit."

Logan's head shot up from his book, "Did he attempt to harm you?"

"No, actually, " except for the water bottle, which was more annoying than anything else, "it's the opposite; he hasn't tried anything. Well, he asked me for my water bottle-"

"He spoke?!" Logan interrupted, shocked.

"No. It was mostly just like charades." Thomas sighed, drying the last plate, "It's weird. I mean, sure, he's annoying, but he doesn't really seem that homicidal."

"You're kidding me, right?" Virgil demanded, hanging upside-down from the chandelier, "He tried to rip your throat open."

"He killed me," Logan added, though he didn't really seem to care. This was met by several loud thumps from the warden's office, making both present ghosts tense. 

"How did he kill you if he's been trapped in the basement?"

Logan tried to turn a page in his book, struggling slightly with his unreasonable long sleeves. "I was about to go down the stairs when I was pushed from behind, and I broke my neck in the fall. When I died, Deceit was standing at the top of the stairs. After Virgil died and the hospital was no longer used, we decided to seal him into the basement."

The thumps abruptly stopped.

Logan sighed, returning his attention to his book, "Be careful around him, Thomas."

-

When Thomas went to the warden's office a few days later, Deceit wasn't in the doorway.

"Deceit?" Thomas peered into the doorway. "Deceit?"

Nothing.

Was this some kind of trick? Was Deceit waiting at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Thomas to come down so he could kill him?

Thomas grabbed his flashlight, kneeling at the top of the stairs and shining the light into the basement. A shiver ran down his spine when he saw the chair, then he spotted Deceit curled up in the corner, completely silent.

"Deceit?" The demon ignored him. "Are you okay?"

Stupid question, he guessed. What could hurt the demon? A cross?

After a few more minutes of silence, Thomas grabbed a crayon and a piece of paper, then tossed both down the stairs. Maybe Deceit could write something to him.

-

When Thomas came back later, as he'd hoped, there was a note at the top of the stairs. On it, scribbled so heavily that the crayon must have broken, was three words;

I

AM

SORRY