Chapter Text
The house on 118 Linden Court, in Belleville, New Jersey was a shit less expensive than the other houses in Jersey. Though it was kept a “secret”, it seemed that everyone in Jersey and their mothers knew why. The reasoning for this is that the house was “haunted”. First of all- kids made up all sorts of stuff when a house had overgrown plants and hadn’t had an owner in a while. Second of all, it was much cheaper and cozier than other houses around it, so why not get it? Third of all– the one who rented it didn’t only rent it for the price, the renter bought it for the rumors.
William Wood, psychic of five years. In four of those five years, he had left Jersey to get money in New York. And that he kinda did– much more than he got in Jersey, anyway. After gaining some traction, he heard about ghost stories in Belleville and decided to move back in to investigate them and whether the stories were real or just made up to help people escape their minds. When he heard of a house that was ‘haunted’, he didn’t hesitate to rent it instantly. It wasn’t too expensive and it was in a nice quiet spot too, so even if there were no supernatural species in the house or around it, it gave Will a nice place to be working in peace.
“Well, I think that may be all the signatures we need, Mr. Wood” The real estate agent, Lucille, flipped through pages in a clipboard while tapping the tip of her heel against the creaky floorboards of Will's newly rented home. Will looked around a little at the house, realizing that so much time chasing ghosts had made him forget how to socialize with his own species. In the last four years, he’d basically lost all his social skills by avoiding contact and conversation with people and always being work-centered. He was never a big social guy, but he had humor and he was sure that he just had to find it in him to learn to socialize normally again. This was a start. “Uh, just Will is fine, Lucille.” He smiled awkwardly. All Lucille did in response was keep flipping through pages, but Will didn’t take it offensively because this woman looked nervous and somewhat determined to finally sell this place. Finally, her finger landed on the last three pages.
“Last signatures go here, here, and here.” Will didn’t have time to read the small print before the clipboard was shoved into his hand. Still, he didn’t want any accidents, so he took the time to read the pages. He had seen enough TV to know to at least read some of it.
The tenant agrees that the landlord is not responsible for any unusual occurrences, including but not limited to: changes in temperature, displaced objects, interference with electrical systems, vivid dreams, unknown voices, or any perceived supernatural occurrences.
The tenant further agrees that no claims are allowed or legal be made regarding emotional distress, spiritual harm, unexplained sounds, possession, alleged communication with evil spirits, etc. On top of that, the signatures made below on this paper assure that any physical and emotional harm caused inexplicably on the land have no ties to the landlord, and that no charges are able to be made against her.
The landlord affirms that no deaths have occurred on the premises within the last fifteen (15) years, to the best of their knowledge.
Will squinted at the paper despite having his glasses. This action was not because he couldn’t read, but because whoever wrote all this paperwork, especially this excerpt, was stupid. Most ghosts were sweet. This person for sure had not had any encounter, or at least any genuine one, with anything paranormal.
You have to understand something before we go on, something that was written and highly emphasized on every page of Will’s copy of Understanding the Paranormal by Dr. Norman Richardson-Reese: Ghost stories are full of SHIT!!
Obviously Dr. Norman did not actually write it that way, that would be unprofessional. But Will was always pretty sure that was what it all meant, cause it was true. But here is a brief summary of the first volume:
The paranormal had always been misunderstood. Not everybody who passed would turn to a ghost– being a ghost is kinda like a limbo. People who are horrible don’t pass by that, they go through the underworld directly. Souls who are the most heavenly sweethearts become angels (which are completely different to ghosts, contrary to certain beliefs). They can even choose to be guardian angels and protect only one person, their most beloved person. They work sort of as a consciousness or awareness, a built in alert system for their loved one. If you ever had someone of a close relationship (romantic, platonic, or blood-bonded) pass away, and get gut instincts or second doubts before doing something stupid, that’s likely them being your guardian angel. Listen to them, they’re choosing to still work in their afterlife all for the sake of helping your stupid ass, since they loved you enough.
Now, GHOSTS tend to be people who have big regrets in their life and were not “fit” or rather set to be angels nor go to the underworld. They aren’t good enough, they aren’t bad enough. The majority is neutral, but some can be inclined to either side. If a ghost is more evil, then that means they can still be redeemed: being a ghost is a second chance to them. If a ghost is more sweet that means they have big regrets and or unfinished business on Earth: being a ghost either means they didn’t find their purpose yet, or they weren’t good enough to make it as an angel. This is why most ghosts are not completely evil.
Here's a not so fun fact about the whole purpose finding: Most ghosts with this issue were young when they passed. Young people can refer to between 3 year olds to 25 years olds. Passings before the minimum age go straight to being an angel because they were not yet conscious enough to know they were doing bad or to even know they had a purpose to find, so they were forever pure. That is why most ghosts are young, too.
Now, of course there are exceptions. There can be “glitches” in the system. Some ghosts can be completely something (either bad or good) and still be in this limbo. Some cheat the system, some are there by accident, some wanted to stay and got permission to be a ghost, though that last one was only angels. All these ghosts, Will called “Wrongful Ghosts”.
Those were all the basics of psychic magic and the paranormal, and clearly the authors of these papers could not have recited a single line of it.
That being said, Will signed the contract, and Lucille practically got on her knees saying thank you, and drove off instantly. Will blinked and shrugged it off, closing the door and stepping further in the house. It was way bigger than Will needed, that was for sure. The contract was to rent it for 6 months, but he could extend it or buy it. Will dreamt of having a partner and pets, so if anything, if all worked out and he stayed, he’d be more than happy sharing the space with a romantic or platonic partner .
Will walked around in amusement, grazing his fingers over the dusty furniture. He rented the house furnished, he wasn’t told why it had to be that way but the idea was obvious: either the furniture was supposedly also haunted, or they didn’t want to take it away because they thought the ghosts would mess with them. Will didn’t bother with it that much but all this was 4 years old or more, so there was a few stuff he wanted to get changed out either way.
***
The first day, Will doubted the house was actually haunted. He spent the day pushing around furniture and dusting windows. When he got to the living room, he was dusting the fireplace and picked up picture frames each time he had to brush the dust off there. To multitask, he put them into a box to figure out what to do with them later. If there was a ghost here, one of these photo frames could help him see them. It’s a whole thing, but we’ll get to that later. You get the jist though– Will was trying to organize shit around all the rooms, but while he was putting away all the photographs, it got windy and chilly. While he slid on his jacket, a photo frame behind him hit him on the head. “Fuck-“ He turned to see what was the matter, and picked up the now-broken frame. Inside was an old picture of a couple, young. Probably taken in the mid 20’s or so, given the colors and clothing. He put it back with the other photos in the box he had been using and didn’t give it much importance or thought more of it.
He had picked up a few things during the week every time he’d go out, one of which was a new TV. The television was one of the few things that didn’t come furnished within the house. Lucille never mentioned why, but Will obviously knew why. Things about this house spread quickly, everyone knew what was up with it. Some valuable things were stolen from the house sometimes, like old jewellery, mirrors, vases, and in this case, the TV. Unfortunately, even the TV that Will had bought himself was acting up cause all it played was static and FUCK was is cold in this room, why was it so cold? He wouldn’t be too bothered if the heating still worked, but of course it wouldn’t. He was having second doubts about renting this house for an experiment, cause all he’d gotten out of it was broken things, objects hitting him, static on radios and TV’s, and next thing he knew, the kitchen cabinet would swing open and eggs on the top shelf would fall on Will while he was cooking.
So yeah, you could say there was a possibility of it being haunted.
Coming back from the grocery store about a week in, Will took a post-it and pen from his desk and wrote down what he knew for sure if there was in fact a ghost in here.
“-comes at me when I put photos away or change the house up
-objects moving and being messed around with
-electronics not working much, static
-lots of wind, might not be a sign though
-why is it so cold in here I literally cannot concentrate wtf ”
Five bullet points was kinda all he withstood before going upstairs for a sweater cause goddamn was it cold. One of the other top rules was to never instantly assume it’s a ghost first thing, but to be honest, at this point he clearly wasn’t feeding into his own delusions.
For the rest of the evening, Will emptied out some more furniture and decor he wasn’t gonna reuse, as usual. He had forgotten how shitty and boring it was to move, unpacking and packing at the same time, especially now with a ‘pre-furnished’ home. It was only until he headed to the kitchen to have dinner that night that a chair at the end of the table was pulled out and creaked as though someone had sat, and Will’s suspicions were confirmed. The post-its he had been using and that same pen were laid out in front of the spot, and were being used. He loomed over the chair, watching a comic-style character be drawn by the ghost. They were good, and the first thing that came to Will's mind was “I hope they had the chance to show the world their art”. But then again, he rethought it: this was a ghost, and no ghost ever got to share their creations to the world, did they? Or maybe they just never made it, considering they were still a ghost. Either way, it was clear the spirit had an aspiration, with that natural talent. “Can you hear me?” Will asked, setting his hands on the chairs back board quietly. No answer, and for a second Will thought he was straight-up talking to himself and reflected on being lonely. All right, that's it, living here and half-isolated from the rest of Jersey was clearly not doing good for him, was it?
That was, before the door swung open, lights flickered, and cabinets shook, in a cliché fashion.
Will took the now used post-its and pocketed them. While he headed up to his room, he looked around for signs the ghost was somewhere close by, not having known where the ghost might’ve gone. He hadn’t fully navigated the house right yet. Not finding any trace, he got straight to work. He got his bag and walked to the ex-nursery, which was now renovated- well, emptied, really— to a ritual room. The lights were already flickering and swinging. He didn’t understand why, but it was getting pretty clear this was the same ghost and they were upset with something or someone, ahem, Will.
He had already emptied the room a few days ago to prepare any rituals. It’s not really what people see in movies, it’s more complicated than a ring of salt. Have you ever heard of Ofrendas or an Altar de Muertos? Mexican culture was the first and probably only culture to get close to summoning their loved ones, because it just so happens that on Day of the Dead, they make an altar of offerings of things loved ones liked. Instead of salt, it would have to be a ring of offerings. The process was much easier when Will knew who the ghost was and what they wanted. Their hopes, desires, hobbies. Otherwise, it was a process of trial and error. So he got a notepad and got to work.
He sat scribbling for a while, crossing out objects the ghost had pushed in recent days and circling ones the ghost had maybe treasured, judging by the house. When the lights flickered, and Will realized the ghost was sitting by him and watching, he spoke again. “If you can hear me, I’m not trying to exorcise you… I’m trying to see you and talk to you. But I need your help.” He set the notepad down. “Can you touch things?” Will asked, and the pen was uncapped and held by what seemed to the human eye to be nothing. This answered action would’ve been helpful if the ghost didn’t write the following on the paper without Will prompting it:
“I don’t remember who I am”
If they didn’t remember who they were, they couldn’t help Will actually place the offerings. “…Anything at all? How you look, your age when you died, what you like? A person you like?” Will pushed a little, gaze softening. The pen did a couple flips, being fiddled with the ghosts fingers with ease. They wrote for a while and doodled on the sides of the page while waiting for Will to read.
“There is a picture of me in the house somewhere, and I know someone I knew used to live here. I like to draw.” was what ended up on the paper. “Where in the house can I find pictures? I haven’t seen every room yet.” Will explained, trying to figure out any sort of way to find out who the ghost was.
The lights flickered again, which Will quickly picked up on meaning that the ghost was aggravated. An empty photo frame was toppled to the ground and pushed to Will. Will picked it up in confusion at not seeing a photo within the frame. The pen was flicked at his face before landing on the paper again to write the following:
“You already took them out. They used to be in the main room, fireplace, and the nursery. Put them back.”
“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t think they had any significance-“ Will stood staring at the paper a while longer before the ghost wrote once more.
“I want them back in their place, put them back. It was rude and disrespectful to change what was already there.”
Will blinked out of his trance. “Right- right, I will. I have them in a box. If you wanna follow me with the notepad to tell me something, you can.” Will offered as he stood up and out of his usual slouching criss cross sitting position. Never upset a ghost, everyone knows that. Not because they’re dangerous (as mentioned, they rarely ever are dangerous) but because this often extended the period of their limbo. Maybe this was a good thing for some ghosts, but for some it was worse than hell. Will didn’t want to assume, so he kept to himself.
Walking through the halls, Will rethought about the drawings. They could’ve been so much more, hadn’t they? If they hadn’t passed, maybe Will would’ve known them in another context. Buying a comic or in an art gallery… In a coffee shop, at a gig, so many possibilities are taken from one when they pass on to the afterlife. He couldn’t explain how, but he just knew he was meant to know this ghost specifically. Out there, there was some timeline with some possibility that they knew each other in another life. Hell, maybe they knew each other in this one. His thoughts were soon interrupted when the ghost shoved the notebook to his face.
“Sry 4 being mean, I just like knowing how their faces look. The people in the photos, I think I knew them. I want them to stay with me, that's all I have.”
“Oh.. No, it’s okay, I get it, I shouldn’t have tried to get rid of something with so much importance to you… Uhm, but hey, all the boxes are still here, huh? Nothing's really gone.” Will assured, having a sudden strong urge to look through the photos as well, find a hint as to what the ghost looked like, why Will was so drawn to them, or if he even knew them personally before he left Belleville. As Will dug through boxes, he spoke to the ghost once more, questioning them. “Do you remember how long ago you died? Name?” He asked, setting down a vase carefully. The ghost returned to the last page used, underlined the previous writing, and added two exclamation marks. Will reread the writing anyway.
“I don’t remember who I am !!”
“Well… this could be easy if I find the photos. And we know you like to draw, there's that. I suppose you liked comics as well. There must be photos of your grandparents or family or something to give away clues. If I find a family member's portrait I can meet them in person and ask about you…” He planned, then took out a heavy sketchbook that he found and flipped to the first page, which he never took the time to read.
PROPERTY OF GEE, ONLY ME AND MIKEY CAN OPEN !!
“This can get us somewhere… Gee is for sure a nickname… that being said, a lot of names start with G. Does the name Mikey mean anything to you?” Will brushed the dust off the cover as he thought out loud. Not getting a response, he continued flipping pages to various comic book character designs and concept doodles all over. Will assumed the answer to his question was a no due to the unresponsive ghost, before they shut the sketchbook shut, pulled it out of Will's hands, took it, and seemingly left the room since the notepad, pen, and sketchbook floated out as well.
Okay… Well.
Mikey.
There couldn’t be too many Mikeys or Michaels in Jersey, could there? Let alone in Belleville only, that was pretty specific for there to be too many Mikeys to cross some out and figure this out. One of them had to have an attachment to a deceased person nicknamed Gee.