We never found his body but we knew he'd died down the mines by the way that the phantom water ran down his body, rusting his toolbelt and making stalactites of his fingers. He was somewhere deep below our feet and we never found out where.
His team only reported him missing after they'd clocked out after spending the rest of their shift looking for him. At least they said so. When we asked his apparition he just shook his head and clenched his hands like he used to when he was alive and frustrated.
We knew he had something to tell us but every method of communication we tried ended up failing. He couldn't move the planchette across our ouija board, couldn't interfere with the radio chatter, couldn't move so much as the tip of a pencil to say one single solitary thing.
He's been walking about the house for weeks now, I'd say he was muttering to himself but his lips aren't even forming words. He's just opening and closing his mouth like he's still gasping for air down in the mines and for all we know he might just be.
The only place we've ever been able to see him is inside the house and as soon as we get to the front gate he walks through and disappears. It's like he only exists because there's enough memories of him within the house that he can form a physical being.
We'll never know where (or even if) he's still alive down in the mines - they won't let us near the place. Something about us hysterically grieving and obsessing over a missing person who we believe is haunting us when he's still officially unfound and his death is unconfirmed.
When we get to the mines though, we know he'll be there waiting to show us where he is. He might have been there since the day he first appeared in our home. Maybe he haunts the mines like he haunts us, only down there he's reunited with his body and up here he's reunited with his family.
His team only reported him missing after they'd clocked out after spending the rest of their shift looking for him. At least they said so. When we asked his apparition he just shook his head and clenched his hands like he used to when he was alive and frustrated.
We knew he had something to tell us but every method of communication we tried ended up failing. He couldn't move the planchette across our ouija board, couldn't interfere with the radio chatter, couldn't move so much as the tip of a pencil to say one single solitary thing.
He's been walking about the house for weeks now, I'd say he was muttering to himself but his lips aren't even forming words. He's just opening and closing his mouth like he's still gasping for air down in the mines and for all we know he might just be.
The only place we've ever been able to see him is inside the house and as soon as we get to the front gate he walks through and disappears. It's like he only exists because there's enough memories of him within the house that he can form a physical being.
We'll never know where (or even if) he's still alive down in the mines - they won't let us near the place. Something about us hysterically grieving and obsessing over a missing person who we believe is haunting us when he's still officially unfound and his death is unconfirmed.
When we get to the mines though, we know he'll be there waiting to show us where he is. He might have been there since the day he first appeared in our home. Maybe he haunts the mines like he haunts us, only down there he's reunited with his body and up here he's reunited with his family.
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