7734: Mistaken Soul

Chapter Six | The Hot Ghost

The famous boy in college who plays guitar. I remembered.

The dark-headed boy who even the insects were absorbed to him. Every single person seemed to be dying for him, let alone the predator girls. The one with endless confident and sarcastic attitude, who's always using humour. An optimistic anti-study, yet the professors admired him, girls flashed him perfect smiles and boys tried to capture his best friend's –Dean's- position.

He was shaking his head and laughing nervously, but there was disgust and fear inside his eyes, which seemed to be yelling out for help. Like every time I'd seen him, Dean was beside him –he was always beside him like a friend, never behind him like a servant. He was laughing too. And to his luck, his blonde hair didn't attract attention like mine did.

Damn...

There were too many rumours about him –most out of jealousy, I believe- they said Carson never left him because he had a very poor family, so Carson took pity of him and befriended with him. It sounded nothing more than a batch of nonsense to me.

Carson raised his palms as a peace and silence-please sign as if yielding but he wanted to protest against whatever this crowd wanted from him. "NO, NO, NO..." He was yelping single-handedly against the whole college. Sweat collected over his forehead.

The boy's nervous, huh? I asked myself.

But something else caught my eye and won my attention over all those shows in front of me.

Kyrell.

Kyrell was rushing out of the door. That was weird because she would never leave a party, especially when something that important was going on and speaking of the hot guy –Carson- (Keyrell would count that over-important). I gulped up a glass of water in one breath and dashed where she disappeared.

The tiny hair at the back of my neck stood up in the air as I stepped out of the building and mentally slapped myself for leaving my jacket alone in my safe corner. But none of that mattered as I spotted a movement in a tiny ally on my left.

Kyrell. I was sure it was her neat blood-red dress flying behind her.

I slowly walked in that direction, with a great curiosity burning at the back of my mind. Why exactly Kyrell would leave a party and walk into a dark ally? I wonder if it was the most idiotic thing she'd ever done.

The wind nearly stopped attacking me as I reached the close walls of the ally, but the weather suddenly dropped to zero.

I glanced at the top of buildings where the sky could be seen. But they were very high and I almost fell trying to find the stars, I sighed and moved forward.

There were occasionally some very old doors or very high ruined balconies, smashed drink cans, and uneven pieces of metal at places. Kyrell would consider it all 'gross' but here she is walking into all of it without a single 'Ew'.

Hearing the slight footsteps behind me, I halted. I felt like someone was watching me, goosebumps were pushing their way up to my neck, and the hair on my hands stood on their end; still cringing. But not sure if that was for being cold or fear. Though I never feared darkness, it was always calming and reassuring. But here, there was no presence of the same friendly darkness. There was a void in it. Some emptiness. Like there were a lot of things missing and the darkness was trying to find some exchanges for them to fill its void space.

An evil void filled with fatal darkness.

Jumping with shock, I heard a cracky wooden door close or open in front of me. I was still focused on the footsteps behind me when, in a jerk, a wooden door slammed in front of me, deep in the darkness of ally. My breathing fastened, my heart pumping blood too quickly. I was alerted to run back if anything happened. I tried to focus, but my eyes wouldn't adjust to the darkness. I concentrated even more and stood alerted as much as possible, being careful about anything that was going to happen. Hesitating whether if I should pull the door open, I took three shaky steps. My brain accepted the offering to open the door when a scream escaped my mouth and I stooped frozen, all these inspired by a hand pressing its fingers to my shoulder.

'Holy Shit' was all I could manage to think.

My thoughts shattered into a million pieces. I could smoothly faint (not a hard task when a ghost touches you), I could stand there not doing anything special and die in peace, though I doubted it would possibly be a peaceful death to lay in a ghost's mercy. I could run deeper in the cursed ally. Or I could fight the ghost behind me and kick it if kicking a ghost was even possible.

The best and the craziest options were the same, last option.

I squeezed my eyes shut and twisted in a millisecond pushing my boot powerfully into whatever creature's chest behind me.