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They’re reaching out to him on all sides, cold rotting hands almost brushing his face as he buries his head into his knees: “Go away go away go away go away! Someone help me, someone please please please help make them go away!”
“Klaus, is that you?”
The voice cuts through the others wailing his name; it’s clear, calm, a little confused. He braves himself to open his eyes, clenching his fists so that his fingernails bite into his ruined palms.
“I’m not afraid of you!” The little boy lies.
“Good. I don’t want that,” the soldier replies gently, sitting beside him but careful not to get too close. He’s aware the bullet hole in the centre of his chest might make him pretty terrifying, but the boy doesn’t seem especially disturbed. Well, he’s not getting worse at least. “So, you can see ghosts, huh?”
“Yes sir.”
“D-don’t - you don’t have to call me that.” Dave almost laughs. The Klaus he’d known had long since shunned any manners. “You told me you were from the future; you never told me you were a seance , though I guess a lot of stuff makes sense now… Talking to the dead! That’s pretty far out, man.”
The boy’s voice cracks. “It’s the worst.”
“Oh, your hands are messed up.” The small palms are covered in scratches and blood, the knuckles bruised.
“I was trying to get out.”
Dave looks around himself for the first time. He’s in a pitch dark mausoleum, the only light those of a collective of screaming apparitions who are beginning to fade as he feels his own form become more solid. “Are you concentrating on me?”
Klaus nods.
“I can tell. I think if you keep doing that, the others might chill out some.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m a ghost too, aren’t I.”
“You weren’t very old… I’m sorry you died.”
“Well, so am I, kid.” He looks down at the pitiful figure huddled into a corner, remembering conversations in an alley near a Saigon bar. My adoptive dad was a real asshole. A real piece of work.
“...your dad locked you in here, did he?”
“Yes sir… I mean, yeah.”
Dave feels all his anger bubbling up in his chest like acid. He’s never wanted to be alive so much before just to punch Klaus’s old man in the face. “How old are you, buddy?”
“Nine and one quarter. Did… did you say I’m from the future? Or I told you that? I dunno what you mean. I’ve never seen you before.”
He still measures his age in quarters and that bastard shut him in here. No wonder he got so fucked up. Poor thing. “What year is it? Time passes weirdly when you’re dead.”
“1999. January.”
The young man thinks for a few moments, before deciding he’s not going to explain a situation he barely understands himself. “Wow. Well, I wouldn’t worry about it. Bet ghosts talk a lot of crazy.”
“Yeah, they do. No offence.”
“None taken.”
They sit quietly for a moment, Dave staring down one particularly noisy woman who is screaming about her will or inheritance. Klaus leans back against the damp wall, his panic almost under control. “Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, some ghosts want revenge like that lady there, and some are trying to find someone, and most of them don’t even know what they want. Or they won’t tell me.”
“They just don’t want to be forgotten.” Dave says. He thinks of the other men - no, boys, he’d been almost ancient at twenty-six - on the battlefield, wandering as spirits through the jungle afterwards, the haze of empty delirium, nineteen year olds already dead and still calling for their mothers. “That’s the scariest thing.”
“Do you think dad will forget I’m in here?” Klaus is suddenly anxious again, his eyes flooding back with tears. “I’m not strong or fast or clever like the others. What if he… he never comes back?”
“He’ll definitely come back soon,” and I’ll haunt him until he fucking croaks. “Just try to be good, and you won’t get locked in here again.”
“That’s what Vanya says.”
“Well, this Vanya sounds smart.” He thinks for a moment. Vanya says ? “So this has happened before?”
“A couple times. I don’t try to make him mad, but I hate using my power. It’s useless anyway. It’s not like I can throw knives or punch real good or jump through space or tear people to pieces with tentacles.”
“Sounds like… some family you have going there.”
Klaus shrugs, and turns the conversation away from himself. “So are you scared of being forgotten?”
“You’re a good listener, kid. Nah, not so much. I’m looking for someone. I thought he died beside me, but he disappeared instead. I’m in the wrong place, wrong time though. I guess I’ll have to wait a bit longer.”
“Well, I hope you find them.”
“So do I. I have so much to tell him. So much. I’ve missed him badly. He’s my best friend.” Dave looks at the boy and his chest aches. He didn’t even know that could happen any more.
“Will you… will you wait here until Dad opens the door? And come back next time?”
“I’ll try my best, buddy, but I don’t really have control over where I am and such: it’s hard to know. I promise you’ll see me again, though. Eventually.”
“I don’t believe you.” Klaus curls himself into a ball, and rolls over, closing his eyes again. “You’re not here for me. I don’t matter.”
“Kid… no, that’s not what I said. Klaus, don’t ignore me, or I can’t keep a proper hold on… Klaus!... Klaus… klaus…”
The young man’s voice fades into the background, mixing up with the cacophony of screams again.
Reginald, in his study, makes a note as he watches the grainy camera footage. Communication with spirits appears to have ended 01:43. Will retrieve #00.04 for questioning in the morning.
You’ll retrieve him right now. A voice stings into the back of his head, and he feels the hair on his arms stand up. His mind is playing tricks on him; definitely a sign he needs to go to bed. #00.04 has admittedly done a better job than usual, though, and it’s unlikely the boy will achieve any more tonight. Reginald decides to unlock the door.
He leaves his office unsettled, cold eyes glaring at the back of his head, willing his skull to crack in two.