There was a chill in the night's air. Nothing unusual for this time of year but, there was a feeling to it. As if the cold air had a life of it's own, it would carress you like a lover, and send a shiver up your spine, like your worse fear. A strong breeze blows, causeing papers to swirl and a garbage can to be kicked over. There was a lot more to the air then there seemed.
To the world, it sounded like the gusted and howled, to those that know and others that exist as such, it was the aggonised scream of one that had just come to discover what his life had become. He was dead and his spirit cursed. He now existed in the earth realm but, not as a physical part of it. He is a wraith.
To those that can see, the a man reached out attempted to touch a wall, only to stare in dismay as his intangable hand passed throught the brick. to those that cannot see, it looked as if a small mist had rolled in. The wind howled agian as the man threw back his head and screamed. He then fell to his knees and cried, the wind now blowing softly.
It would be awhile before he would truly understand what has happened to him and what he is now capable of. There is no one that can or will teach him these lessons, he has to remember and learn them on his own and, once he does, he may not want to atone for his sins.
Days later.
The wind had been quiet for a few days as the wraith sat in quiet contemplation. Pleading desperately for some sign of why he still existed and of what he must do. Then, a flash of memory hit him. A woman. A bueatiful woman. Her hair was the color of gold and her eyes were as deep and blue as teh sea. He started moving as another memory hit him. She was his wife. A woman that he loved and married and had children with. He remember that he had, had children but, he couldn't yet remember what they looked like or how many. It didn't matter. He remembered his wife. Was she still alive? He had to know. He needed to find her.
A man walked down the street. He looked average enough. About 5' 7" and of average build. He had had brown hair and eyes and wore blue jeans, nike's and a Starter(tm) jacket of some sports team. The Wraith reached out for the man and suddenly, felt warmth. He felt alive again. he reached out and touched a wall. His hands felt the cool brick and he smiled. "Yes!" He shouted happily as, he ran off to find out more about this woman. He hoped that she would recognise him in.
He ran. Something inside him told him where to go. The moon was a beacon in the sky. It glowed large and full, silhoutteing the two shadows as the man ran. Eventually, he came to a set of gates in a stone wall. He swung the large iron doors open with a squeak and ran into the gloomy area. It didn't dawn on him that he had just entered the cemetary. Moss and vine cover headstones extended as far as the eye could see. The occasional monument stood out more then others, the weathered stone reaching for the sky.
Soon, he came to a dead stop and fell to his knees. In front of him were three fresh graves. He felt a sickness in the pit of his host's stomach.
His borrowed breathe became short as a finaly wave of memory hit him. A woman screaming and a man raped and murdered her. Blood stained the bed sheets a sick crimson color as the woman's screams filled the air.
THEN....nothing.
A deafening silence filled the air as the blood still flowed from the slain woman's still body. Then, two small children entered the room, and the memory became in slow motion. "daddy?" one child questioned. the word took a full minute to be said. The killer turned to face his children and grabbed them. The boy first. He stabbed the crying child over and over again until his cries too were silenced. The daughter starred in disbelief as he came towards her, blood dripping from his blade and his clothes. She shrieked and ran away, to no avail. The man easily caught up with the child. He strangled the poor girl, yelling and shaking her until, her neck snapped like a twing in his hands and he rbody fell limp to the floor.
The images of his dead family flashed through his mind like the negatives of camera film. Pausing on each grizzly scene like a snapshot. The wind howled ferociously as the borrowed body fell to the ground before the headstones. He had lost his grasp on the host and on sanity. the wind screamed and howled. Tortured over the memories of what he had done. Then, an ill wind blew across the city. A warning of what this dead man will do.
