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The Captain’s gaze became blurry as he stared up at Havers, the other men only serving as a background. He felt his soft, warm hand slip away from his own. As his vision began to darken, he used the last of his strength to grip onto a hard, thin object that was pushed into his hand. The last thing he heard was a whisper just above his head.
Moments later, the Captain’s eyes flickered open again. He observed his surroundings, quickly confirming that he was, in fact, still on Earth and in the same room. Not questioning how he could’ve woken up completely fine in what seemed to have been just seconds, he pulled himself off the floor, the only problem being his knees, which were stiff as ever.
“Right, apologies for that, everyone. Now, I hope that we can continue on as…”
He trailed off as he noticed that no one seemed to be listening, or even acknowledging him at all. Instead they were all still staring at the floor where he had been just a moment before.
He slowly turned his head down towards where they were looking, and saw… himself, still lying there, motionless. He stumbled backwards in shock, nearly falling back over.
He looked back up to the men gathered around his body, some of which had begun whispering to one another.
“Now, what’s all this, then?” said the Captain with a voice of rage that he hadn’t used since he’d been Commanding Officer at the very house he was standing in. “What the bally hell are you playing at? I’m- I’m right here! Who on Earth is that on the floor?”
His eyes scanned wildly around the room, looking for someone, anyone, who could even see that he was there. As he did so, his gaze landed on a very obviously out-of-place figure in a corner of the room who he hadn’t seen before, wearing fur that seemed to almost be draped over him. He had unkempt, mane-like hair and a very strange face indeed.
The Captain pointed his stick at the man. “You there, sir,” he said instinctively, as if identifying a more ordinary threat. “What do you think you’re doing?”
A look of confusion crossed the face of this unusual-looking man, before he decided to respond.
“Just watching,” he said in a deep, gruff voice. “Always good to see party in house.”
“What on Earth do you mean? How long have you been here?”
“‘Bout nine or ten thousand years, think. Don’t really keep track.”
“Well, what in God’s name is going on? Why can’t they see me?”
“You ghost now. You die, you become ghost. Well, only sometimes.”
The man (was he a man?) said this as if it was a perfectly unremarkable statement, a recognised fact. The Captain, while still not quite sure exactly what was going on, could only think of one other question.
“Well, uh- what’s your name?” He said it as just as much of a command as any of his other questions.
“Robin,” he said flatly. “Wasn’t always my name. Good friend gave it to me long time ago. What your name?”
“That is classified information, unfortunately,” said the Captain, though he was sure by this point that this strange man - Robin - was not, and could not be any sort of threat. “I cannot reveal that to the likes of you. Call me… call me Captain.”
Robin nodded.
“Hmm. Also, should probably know that there-”
Robin cut off, noticing that the volume of the party’s conversation had increased significantly without either of them realising. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs. As they approached the door, the group parted to make way for three men, two of which were carrying a stretcher. The third man stopped by the Captain’s body and crouched down beside it. After performing a few quick checks, he confirmed that the body was, in fact, dead. It was lifted onto a stretcher and covered with a sheet of cloth.
The Captain and Robin made their way to a window around the edge of the group, which was still gathered around the body as the stretcher was lifted.
“Can walk through livings,” he told the Captain. “Best not to, though.”
When they reached the window, they saw an ambulance outside. They watched and waited until the stretcher was brought down. Another man stood beside the vehicle, ready to open its doors. The Captain was so focused on watching as his body was carried across the stones and lifted into the ambulance that he didn’t notice a group of three people standing on the grass, watching, that no one else seemed to notice.
The party had begun filing out of the room while this was all happening, and by the time the Captain and Robin turned around, there were only two men left, making their way out the door.
Just then, a girl skipped into the room. She had dark hair in an elaborate, towering hairstyle straight out of an old painting, and she was wearing a burgundy dress with yellow bows and a large, hooped skirt. Hearing her footsteps, the Captain turned to look at her.
“Good evening, Robin. Do you know what’s going on?” said the girl cheerfully. “I’ve been asleep, and I just saw all those army men leaving already.”
Before Robin could respond, the Captain spoke, his voice even more confused.
“Who- who are you?”
“Katherine Higham, but most people call me Kitty and-”
She paused, staring at the Captain in shock.
“You can see me? Are you a ghost too?”
“Well, I-”
“Oh goodness, there's a new ghost! How exciting! I mean, it’s not exciting that you died, but- how did you die?”
“Heart attack, I think. I, um, I’m not sure where it came from.”
“Hmm,” said Kitty, in the same tone you’d use if you were responding to a bland piece of information that someone was telling you in a conversation. “I fell asleep.”
“What?” said the Captain.
“I fell asleep. That’s how I died.”
The Captain decided not to question this any further. He instead turned to Robin.
“You didn’t tell me there were others!” said the Captain, half-whispering.
“Well, I try to, but then ambulance people come.”
“How many more are there?”
“About…four,” replied Kitty, counting on her fingers. “Not including us. Which would make it seven. And, of course, there’s also the Plague ghosts, but they mostly stay in the basement. I’m not sure how many of them there are!”
“Christ,” said the Captain under his breath.
“I should tell them about you. I’d better do that now. I’m sure they’ll all want to meet you!”
Kitty skipped out of the room excitedly, humming to herself.
“I go tell other ghosts too,” said Robin. “You want to come meet them?”
“I- I think I’ll stay here for now.”
“Me understand. Can be a lot.”
Robin quietly exits the room, before breaking into a run when he reaches the stairs. The Captain sat on a windowsill, a different one this time, and stared out the window. It was dark now, the last of the sun slowly sinking below the horizon. Most of the men who had been at the party were still gathered outside in their coats and hats, huddled together in two or three groups, talking. The Captain's eyes were fixed on one particular man, standing on the edge of a group, looking out to the sunset.
Suddenly, a voice interrupted the still night.
“You must be the new one, then.”
The Captain jumped, and looked down at where the voice was coming from. On the windowsill lay a disembodied head. Needless to say, this gave the Captain quite a shock.
“What- who are you?”
“Humphrey. Humphrey Bone. Died in… what was it? 1570-something, I believe. Beheaded, so they say. By the way, have you seen my body?”/
“Y-your-”
Humphrey laughed. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you. My body’s a ghost as well. Mostly just wanders around, trying to find me. Not that it’s very successful. I have the eyes. And the ears.”
“Right. Well, no, I don’t think I've seen it.”
“No problem. What’s your name, then?”
“Captain.”
“Captain who?”
The Captain didn’t respond.
“I’ll ask the others later. I’m sure they’ll know.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. The Captain went back to staring out the window.
It was something he used to do so often during those long evenings while he was stationed at Button House. He would tell himself that he was looking out for any enemy activity - there was more chance of them striking at night, he thought, because they would be less noticed - but really, it was to finally have some peace and quiet, to soak up the stillness of the night. He would sit on the windowsill in his office, the door closed to block out the noise of the men and women of Button House chatting and laughing. He would watch the moon and try to count the stars, usually giving up after about fifty or so. He had begun to realise that not everything could be controlled, counted and put in order. Still, it didn’t stop him from trying with everything else in his life. The men and women he commanded, all the letters and telegrams he sent and received, the events of the day, his emotions.
Tonight, he wasn’t staring at the moon - a waning crescent - or attempting to count the stars, just looking for the sake of looking, somewhere to rest his gaze while he gathered his thoughts.
“So, how have you been finding being a ghost so far?” asked Humphrey, breaking the silence.
“Not too dissimilar from being alive, surprisingly. I thought the idea of ghosts to be as unlikely as a tank rolling onto the front lawn, someone would’ve noticed it. It didn’t align with any sense. I didn’t see how there could be such a thing.”
“I was never quite sure, personally. I didn’t have anything to prove they were real, but I also didn’t have anything to prove they weren’t. My wife Sophie believed in them. I think she did, anyway. After her lady-in-waiting died, she kept talking about ‘l'esprit’. I think she thought that she was haunting her. Then again, Robin told me she moved on straight away.”
Humphrey gave a short laugh which gradually turned into a sigh.
“Were you ever married?” he asked after a moment.
“No, I, uh, I never was. I never really met anyone that I could get married to,” said the Captain, emotion just creeping at the edge of his general’s tone.
“So, what was it like, unmarried life? You know, I married at fourteen, before I was even an adult. I never really got time to find my footing in life, but then, that was just how it was in my day. You didn’t get a choice, let alone time to make it.”
The Captain thought about this for a moment, and then replied,“it was grand enough. Being unmarried meant one less person to worry about, I suppose. And, as I assume you’re aware, I was commanding officer of this house during the war, so I didn’t have time for such trivial things as romance.”
Humphrey chuckled. “Of course I’m aware. I ended up on your office windowsill a lot. I even ended up on your desk a few times. Some days, you were the only face I’d see. You didn’t try to keep it secret, that’s for sure. Told everyone you could.”
“Yes, well, I needed to make sure that everyone knew the order of standing in the house. Can’t have everyone running around not knowing what to do.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, you’ll be getting a lot of that in this house. Most of the others seem to have gone just slightly mad decades or even centuries ago. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only sane one, but I think we all feel that way, to be honest.”
Humphrey chuckled again. The Captain didn’t notice as it faded away this time and Humphrey went silent. He was watching a bird hopping along the stones. A pigeon. It was completely dark now, the sun had disappeared over the horizon. The Captain wondered why it was out so late. It didn’t seem to have any priorities. It was just looking around aimlessly.
Most of the men had left by then. Except for one.
Havers stood in the middle of the yard, staring at the moon. He was wearing his coat, but held his hat against his chest. The moonlight shone in his eyes and lit up his clouded breath. The pigeon flew over Havers’ head, moving the Captain’s eyes with it. He noticed Havers standing there, and his gaze moved from the pigeon onto him. As if he felt it, Havers turned around, and looked up at the window where the Captain was sitting. Although he knew he couldn’t see him, the Captain waved at Havers. Havers stayed staring blankly up at the window, which to him just showed an empty room, still glowing with light, but with no life. And he was right; there was no life, but there were souls, looking right back at him.
His eyes still on the window, Havers began to walk slowly towards the gate. The sound of his footsteps on the stones echoing in the silence could be heard even up in that room. When he reached the gateway he turned his head away and picked up his pace, closing the gate behind him. The Captain continued watching him as he walked down the driveway until he was out of sight.
Looking down at the windowsill, the Captain saw that Humphrey was asleep. He decided that he probably should as well. He left the room for the first time since he’d died, and made his way to the room he used to sleep in when he was stationed there. The door had been left ajar, so he peered in. The bed had been removed. He sighed and began to wander around the house, looking for another room. He attempted to push open the door of the room beside this one, but his hand went right through. He pulled it away as if he had touched a hot stove, but he tried to ignore it and move on. This was his eternity now, he thought, so he might as well get used to it.
Eventually, he reached a room with a bed and no ghost sleeping on it. He sat down on the edge of the bed and twirled the swagger stick around in his hands. It was warm now with his body heat, despite his body being only a manifestation of his soul. Maybe this was because the stick wasn’t really there with him either, just its spirit bound to his own.
That night, he dreamed that he was still alive. He dreamed that he and Havers were walking by the lake, talking about all the things that he never talked about with anyone else. He dreamed about Havers’ soft brown eyes and his warm smile bathing in the light of a perfect sunny day. Then, without any warning, the Captain was in the lake. Drowning. Havers was on the bank, calling, reaching out to him, but all he could do was sink further into the deep waters. As he sank below the surface, Havers’ face became a blur, and eventually just another ripple in the water.