Eerie, Indiana fanfiction: Disguises
Oct. 29th, 2015 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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eerieindianaWritten for Day 29 of the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days October Challenge. The prompt was, "A haunting"
"That's so fake," said Marshall.
The ghost, who was covered in a sheet with holes cut out for eyes and waving plastic "chains" from the discounted post-Halloween sale at the World o' Stuff, sagged in disappointment.
"Really?" it asked.
"Really," said Mars. "Honestly, I'm embarrassed for you."
"Wow," said the ghost of Devon Wilde, pulling the sheet off himself and letting it flutter to the floor. "You grew up grumpy."
"Sorry," said Mars.
The ghost of Devon Wilde hovered next to him on the couch, bent in a sitting position even though he was at least six inches above the cushions.
"You want to talk about it?" he asked.
"No," said Mars, flinging himself back against the worn upholstery. "Yes. No. I don't know."
"Sounds confusing," said the ghost of Devon Wilde.
Marshall rolled onto his stomach, propped himself up on his elbows, and stared at his dead friend.
"Do you ever wonder if you've made a huge mistake?" he asked.
"Yes," said Devon. "Trying to hitch a ride on the back of that milk truck was definitely a questionable decision. To be fair, I was thirteen."
"And now you'll be thirteen forever," said Mars.
"Or I'm dead and gone, and you're just a little unhinged with the guilt from putting the moves on my girlfriend before I was even cold," said Devon.
Marshall groaned and buried his face in his folded arms.
"Sorry," said Devon. "That was a bit mean. I don't think alive-me would have said that."
"You know what's weird?" asked Marshall, peering out at the ghost from between his bangs. "I've known you dead for longer than I knew you before you died. I can't even tell if that was something you'd have said when you were alive, because we were only friends for a few months before the accident."
Devon shrugged. "I make an impression," he said, and flashed his cocksure grin.
"What's it like?" asked Mars. "Being dead, I mean."
"It's boring, mostly," said Devon. "You just kinda drift around until someone from your side shows up wanting to talk. Back when I was alive, all the stories I heard said it was the dead who haunted the living. Now I think it's the other way around. All ghosts are haunted by the people that remember them. I don't even know if I'm really Devon Wilde, or if I just think I am because you need him to be here when you come to visit."
Marshall stared at the golden heart that dangled from a chain wrapped around his wrist.
"I think you're Devon Wilde," he said. "What you said sounded pretty smart, and Devon was smart."
"Not smart enough to avoid getting hit by a milk truck," said Devon. "Anyway, are you gonna help me practice my Jacob Marley or what?"
31_days October Challenge. The prompt was, "A haunting""That's so fake," said Marshall.
The ghost, who was covered in a sheet with holes cut out for eyes and waving plastic "chains" from the discounted post-Halloween sale at the World o' Stuff, sagged in disappointment.
"Really?" it asked.
"Really," said Mars. "Honestly, I'm embarrassed for you."
"Wow," said the ghost of Devon Wilde, pulling the sheet off himself and letting it flutter to the floor. "You grew up grumpy."
"Sorry," said Mars.
The ghost of Devon Wilde hovered next to him on the couch, bent in a sitting position even though he was at least six inches above the cushions.
"You want to talk about it?" he asked.
"No," said Mars, flinging himself back against the worn upholstery. "Yes. No. I don't know."
"Sounds confusing," said the ghost of Devon Wilde.
Marshall rolled onto his stomach, propped himself up on his elbows, and stared at his dead friend.
"Do you ever wonder if you've made a huge mistake?" he asked.
"Yes," said Devon. "Trying to hitch a ride on the back of that milk truck was definitely a questionable decision. To be fair, I was thirteen."
"And now you'll be thirteen forever," said Mars.
"Or I'm dead and gone, and you're just a little unhinged with the guilt from putting the moves on my girlfriend before I was even cold," said Devon.
Marshall groaned and buried his face in his folded arms.
"Sorry," said Devon. "That was a bit mean. I don't think alive-me would have said that."
"You know what's weird?" asked Marshall, peering out at the ghost from between his bangs. "I've known you dead for longer than I knew you before you died. I can't even tell if that was something you'd have said when you were alive, because we were only friends for a few months before the accident."
Devon shrugged. "I make an impression," he said, and flashed his cocksure grin.
"What's it like?" asked Mars. "Being dead, I mean."
"It's boring, mostly," said Devon. "You just kinda drift around until someone from your side shows up wanting to talk. Back when I was alive, all the stories I heard said it was the dead who haunted the living. Now I think it's the other way around. All ghosts are haunted by the people that remember them. I don't even know if I'm really Devon Wilde, or if I just think I am because you need him to be here when you come to visit."
Marshall stared at the golden heart that dangled from a chain wrapped around his wrist.
"I think you're Devon Wilde," he said. "What you said sounded pretty smart, and Devon was smart."
"Not smart enough to avoid getting hit by a milk truck," said Devon. "Anyway, are you gonna help me practice my Jacob Marley or what?"
