Hauntings Who: Justin and Lydia When: Evening Where: Justin's house
It was the darkness that always seemed to bring Lydia down, when day started to fade into night and people headed into their homes. She could try to stay where the people were, at the pub or the diner, but she knew what would happen. The lights would flicker and go out, people would get spooked, and she’d be reminded of what she was. Even if she didn’t try, this was the worst time of day for her, and she found herself wandering towards Justin’s house. What was he doing tonight, the night after the full moon? Lydia walked through the front door when she arrived at his house, invisible as she looked around to see if he was home.
Justin was, indeed, home. After leaving the encampment that morning, he had texted his sister, fallen into bed and slept for several hours. Then he spent the remainder of his day at the diner, trying his hardest to get back into his routine. It was a strange feeling, pretending to be normal when he so clearly wasn't anymore. After leaving the diner in capable hands that evening, Justin walked home and took a shower, letting the hot water do it's best to wash away the tension in his shoulders and back.
When he finished, he dried off, pulled on a pair of jeans and then began to dry his hair as he left the bathroom, completely oblivious to Lydia's presence. He padded into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of the moonshine his sister occasionally liked to brew. It was a quiet night, but Justin was used to quiet nights. Despite being a werewolf now, he didn't think that was going to change anytime soon.
Lydia had taken a seat on the couch while Justin was in the shower, and stayed there until he wandered out. She thought about going into the bathroom and writing something on the mirror, but chances were slim that he’d go back in there now. Instead, she snuck into the kitchen with him and turned the sink on, then moved out of the way so he wouldn’t walk through her to turn it back off. He might not be able to see her, but he’d feel her, the spot in the room that was cold as death. And because she’d been in there while he was showering, the lights were beginning to flicker, on their way to dying completely.
Justin had just grabbed a glass from his cupboard when the sound of running water startled him. Brows drawn together in confusion, he shut the cupboard and reached out to turn the water off again, mildly annoyed. He thought had fixed the damn pipes already. The chill in the air was unmistakable, causing goosebumps to break out over his arms and bare chest. It was terribly cold outside, but he checked the windows in the kitchen anyway. Cursing softly under his breath, Justin set the glass on the counter and started for the kitchen door to head back to his bedroom where he could grab a t-shirt to pull on. He couldn't say he was used to these minor annoyances, but he certainly wasn't taken aback by them anymore. The problem is, the minor annoyances were becoming major ones, and he was having difficulty figuring them out.
The second Justin left the room, Lydia focused all her energy on the cup and put it back in the cupboard. Not that it would be difficult to get another out again, but because she knew it would mess with his mind. She then walked back to the bedroom and sucked the door closed, amused that he was putting on a t-shirt. Weren’t werewolves supposed to be warm? She’d heard someone say that. Then again, she was probably cold even to them. Curious to see what he’d do next, she put her hand on the doorknob, making it cold to the touch. His bedroom lights began to flicker, then eventually went out.
He was definitely warmer by nature now, but even Justin had felt the chill in the kitchen. He was still adjusting to his new senses, and it hadn’t occurred to him that the cooler part of the kitchen might be something more than a simple draft. Slipping a t-shirt over his head, Justin was raking his fingers through his hair when the lights in his bedroom flickered, then went out. That prompted a scowl and he suddenly began to look around in the dark, his eyes having adjusted fairly quickly. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured, as if waiting for someone to show their face. Someone was fucking with him, or his house was a piece of shit. It was more likely the latter, but given everything that had happened over the past couple of weeks, Justin wouldn’t have been surprised to find out there was more freaky shit out there. When he heard nothing but the sound of his clock out in the living room, Justin headed back to the kitchen. “I don’t care,” he said out loud, knowing he probably sounded and looked crazy, talking to the house the way he was, but it made him feel a little better. “Do whatever the hell you want… it’s not going to bother me.”
It was the first time she felt acknowledged by him, even if he didn’t know he was talking to her. She wanted it to bother him; why else would she be haunting him? It bothered her that he was alive while she was dead, that he got to go about his life as if nothing had happened, while she was stuck between life and death, unable to move forward or backward. In a fit of frustrated rage, she picked up the nearest object and threw it, surprising even herself when it smashed against the wall.
That got his attention and Justin whirled around, a loud curse escaping his lips. That hadn't been the house acting up. Walking over to the object on the floor, Justin snatched it up, hefting the figurine in his hand. It was nothing overly important, something he had bought from a trader awhile back because it had struck his fancy. But it belonged on the table beside his sofa, not halfway across the room on the floor. Something had thrown it. Only there was no one in his house but him. A ghost? What, was he being haunted now? Justin scanned the room with his eyes, his breathing shallow as he listened for any sign of company. It would make sense, wouldn't it? The weird occurrences in his place, and the diner. The flickering lights. The cold spots. "You gonna show yourself?" Justin asked loudly, trying to calm his pounding heartbeat. Vampires and werewolves and ghosts... goddamit. He wasn't sure if he was afraid, annoyed or angry. "Or are you just gonna throw shit around in my house?"
Lydia thought about it, then thought better of it. He should have to figure it out, think back on who he might have wronged in his past that would want to haunt him. She wondered if he even had a clue. “Would you rather I throw shit at you?” she whispered, barely audible, but she knew his new werewolf hearing would pick it up. And at such a low volume, it would be impossible for him to tell it was her. Lydia circled around him, watching him carefully, almost reaching out to touch him. She could walk right through him, let him feel the cold of death, but instead she waited and watched. “Why should you get to live?”
Justin could feel the slight chill in the air and he looked around, trying to follow the voice that was so clear in his ears, and yet he couldn't place who it belonged to. Brows drawn together in confusion, Justin glanced behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. But there was nothing but empty air and he felt his frustration grow. "Who are you?" he asked, hating that there was opposition present that he couldn't see. His voice was tense as he spoke again. "You're haunting the wrong house, sweetheart."
“No, Justin, it’s you,” Lydia seethed. “And if you can’t figure it out, then you don’t deserve to know.” It infuriated her that he wouldn’t have any idea who he’d wronged, that he’d killed her and then never thought another second on it. Yes, they’d all killed zombies, but she hadn’t been a zombie. She hadn’t even been bitten. His mistake had been her death and she’d keep this up until he got a clue or she grew tired of the game. Lydia wanted to throw something at him, do something to know how angry she was. But she wouldn’t kill him. She wouldn’t stoop to his level, so instead she ran straight through him and out the front door, touching him with the chill of death on her way out.
It was unsettling enough, having a ghost in his home. It was seemingly made worse that the ghost knew his name. Justin tensed and was about to ask who the spirit was again when he felt that torturous chill run through his body, and then it was gone, leaving him in silence. "Hello?" Justin called, turning to look around the room, hoping that whoever it was would show themselves. He called out again, but was only answered with silence. Releasing a slow, steady breath, Justin walked over to sink down onto his couch while he tried to sort out what just happened.