Janos thought they were there. Yes, the soul was real, and he assumed, as confused as when they were still alive. No one in this world knew what the fuck they were supposed to do, and when they were gone… *poof!*... did it mean that everything suddenly made sense? Did it mean that they knew exactly where they were supposed to go, or what they were supposed to be doing? He doubted it.
Still, when he spoke to his own spirits, there was never anything back. He decided it was his own memory, his own longing, that held them, or that they weren’t actually there in the first place… just his wishful thinking. Not that any of it mattered. He didn’t have what Dahlia had, the blessing that was actually a curse; or the curse that was actually a blessing. Two sides to every coin, eh? He didn’t have it, so… they could haunt him until he joined them and it wouldn’t make a damned bit of difference.
“Hrm… It ain’t me, babe” his brows furrowed and now he too, took a glance around. “Did something piss on her? I mean… off. You know what I mean. Maybe she’s scared of me, yeah?” And what if she was? Maybe she was jealous. “Hey Sister!” He called out. “Dahlia misses you, I think. You are making her sad-faced, and that can’t be. So, come out, come out, where-ever you are…” He sang the last part, sing-songy, playful, and yet somehow seductive, in the way only vampires could seem to do.
“Whats her name?” He asked. If he was going to be talking to the ghosty, he might as well use it’s name.