Ghosts only exist because they don't realise they've died and when they do realise they... change. There's no proper term for it just yet, we're still busy trying to figure out exactly how the metamorphosis occurs, how we can stop it or even if we can stop it.
Think if a poltergeist was somehow possessing the nearest inanimate object, warping that object into some semblance of their former appearance and using that object to propel themselves towards you with the sole intent of using your body next. The results of this are usually rooms full of half-flesh half-furniture with the same snarling face, leaving a trail that usually leads to the outside.
We don't always find the victims, sometimes all we find are people who look eerily similar to them but just different enough to make you say "Oops, sorry. I thought you were someone else!"and think nothing more of it until the realisation hits you but by then they are long gone and you're left with nothing more than guilt.
It happens to us all, you'll have your turn one day, same as the rest of us.
Mine was a young girl called Jeannie. She'd been using a ouija board with her friends when they made contact with a spirit who kept telling them to get out of their house. It's common enough behaviour for a ghost, the best thing to tell them is that you're only visiting and to move on ASAP.
Jeannie did not do that. She used the board to tell the spirit that they died, even using their name to find the matching obituary which drove the ghost to come crawling out of the board and into the nearest person which happened to be Jeannie's younger sister.
From there the ghost fled and from what Jeannie told us her sister died the moment it made contact with her. She might even be the new ghost of the house for all we know, the family burned it down before we could get any kind of reading on it.
Funny thing was, I'd bumped into Jeannie's sister the day before she contacted us. Didn't even realise it until she showed me a photo that looked a lot like the young woman who I gave bus money to so she could see her family across the country.
We'll never find her, these creatures aren't exactly alive, despite their new hosts. They can just flip in and out of sight at will, move through walls like they were never there and for the dead they aren't. Death puts you in a strange space between time and space with little left to do but relive your fondest routine.
Perhaps that's why they try to escape as soon as they're aware.
I know I will.
We don't always find the victims, sometimes all we find are people who look eerily similar to them but just different enough to make you say "Oops, sorry. I thought you were someone else!"and think nothing more of it until the realisation hits you but by then they are long gone and you're left with nothing more than guilt.
It happens to us all, you'll have your turn one day, same as the rest of us.
Mine was a young girl called Jeannie. She'd been using a ouija board with her friends when they made contact with a spirit who kept telling them to get out of their house. It's common enough behaviour for a ghost, the best thing to tell them is that you're only visiting and to move on ASAP.
Jeannie did not do that. She used the board to tell the spirit that they died, even using their name to find the matching obituary which drove the ghost to come crawling out of the board and into the nearest person which happened to be Jeannie's younger sister.
From there the ghost fled and from what Jeannie told us her sister died the moment it made contact with her. She might even be the new ghost of the house for all we know, the family burned it down before we could get any kind of reading on it.
Funny thing was, I'd bumped into Jeannie's sister the day before she contacted us. Didn't even realise it until she showed me a photo that looked a lot like the young woman who I gave bus money to so she could see her family across the country.
We'll never find her, these creatures aren't exactly alive, despite their new hosts. They can just flip in and out of sight at will, move through walls like they were never there and for the dead they aren't. Death puts you in a strange space between time and space with little left to do but relive your fondest routine.
Perhaps that's why they try to escape as soon as they're aware.
I know I will.
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