“What a meaningless life I’ve led.”

  The professor thought to himself as he quietly descended down the cliff side. He couldn't feel his body anymore, as the cold sufficiently numbed any potential for pain.

  Hmm~ Hmmm~ Hmmm~

  Julian was humming a pleasant tune. Nicholas recognized it to be the nursery rhyme Itsy Bitsy Spider. For a man that had just met a ghost, he was acting quite unbothered by it. He easily adapted to the abnormal situation and would occasionally even blatantly stare at Nicholas. But, even when he stared, Julian wouldn't say much. He just made a face of someone who had words to say, but chose not to.

  A few hours had passed since their initial conversation, and Nicholas watched a mixture of both faithful and unconvinced clients wander into Julian’s sketchy tent. He had never seen such polarizing views back to back before. Some clients came in soaking up every word that Julian said like it were scripture. Others came to argue, telling him that they’ve committed horrendous acts after the “funny ideas” he put in their heads.

  Then, in the same breath, some of those who cursed out Julian for his previous readings would ask for another. Hypocrites. Nicholas thought.

  I would accuse this man of being a scam artist–and honestly, a decent one at that. But, quite frankly, he is too passionate during his readings to not at least be slightly faithful to his own craft.

  The afternoon passed with a few hiccups, but nothing the blonde man couldn’t handle. Soon, Julian began packing his tent with practiced ease.

  “How long have you been a fortune teller?” A few candlesticks floated in the air as Nicholas posed a question.

  Julian quirked a brow in fascination, “So you can control that by will?”

  “A ghost should be able to do this much.” The candles slowly floated back to the table and stood on the table in an orderly manner. “This power is innate to me. However, I’m uncertain that this is all I can do.”

  How curious. A ghost that doesn’t even know the extent of its own supernatural ability…

  Julian spoke as he packed up his belongings, casting his gaze towards the ghost. “Speaking of which. I’ve noticed something strange about you.” He turned, casting an inquisitive look towards the ghost. ”Nicholas. I’m assuming that you cannot see your own reflection. Correct?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  Raising a hand, Julian pointed a finger at his own neck, mirroring Nicholas. “Here. You have numbers on your neck.”

  Nicholas unconsciously brought a hand to clasp his neck. It felt cold as usual. “Numbers?”

  “I’m also assuming it’s not a tattoo...” Julian said, peering closer at the numerical markings.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The numbers are changing constantly. They’ve been ticking down in a consistent rhythm.”

  So, this is why he was staring at me so fervently.

  On Nicholas’ neck was a set of numbers written in a ghostly hue.

  “Every minute, the number on the far right will tick down. It appears to be a simpler, more straightforward version of a clock. Since this afternoon, from 1 to 4 pm, that 2nd number has gone down by 3.”

  Julian scribbled the number on a piece of paper and showed it to Nicholas. “Here.”

  [362:08:14]

  The implications of this…

  “The 3rd number appears to be seconds, while the 2nd number represents hours. Based on the context, this must mean that the 1st number is days.”

  Nicholas paused, feeling a sense of impending doom coming over him. Was this clock-like timer… my limit?

  Julian watched conflicted emotions bleed through Nicholas’ stoic expression. He didn’t expound further on his observation, but he knew that Nicholas had come to the same conclusion as he.

  “Don’t worry.” Julian heaved an enormous bag of equipment over his shoulder. “There’s time.”

  “...” He wasn't sure if he was less irritable than usual, but normally this comment would bother him. Right now, however, Nicholas felt oddly reassured. Perhaps it was because Julian was a complete stranger, but vitally, an individual who could veritably see and converse with Nicholas.

  Yet, it’s best not to have too high ?hopes. There is a likely chance that this too will be temporary. Whatever that bread did, who could determine if our communication will last much longer?

  As Julian turned and walked out the tent, Nicholas found himself following him. Like a duck waddling after his new born mother, Julian had become his temporary anchor to the waking world.

  Clack. Clack. Clack .

  As Julian trekked home, his pace was of unprecedented strength and speed. The comically large bag of equipment did little to slow the man’s stride. In parallel, Nicholas floated amicably alongside him.

  He watched Julian open his front door, hang his coat, and put away his belongings in his space.

  “...” Abruptly, Julian halted upon his arrival home.

  2 hours left until 6 pm. Nicholas inwardly sighed. Well, I have nothing else better to do. He did find it a bit strange that Julian stopped so suddenly. Maybe he forgot something?

  Julian turned to gaze at his ghostly companion, taking a brief moment to watch the neck timer blink away the seconds.

  “Ah, I’m unaware if this is rude, but… don’t you… have something better to be doing?”

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “No,” Nicholas woodenly replied. He really didn’t.

  “...” Julian wasn’t one to particularly care about boundaries. He was not a picky or touchy person, nor would he be overtly disgusted by a stranger in his space. However, at this moment, he wondered about the legality and morality of a ghost being able to exist… anywhere. How was he supposed to react to such a firm ‘No'?

  He spent a second too long thinking of a response; Nicholas took his silence a sign that the conversation was over.

  “Well, if you’d excuse me.”

  W-Wait! Julian desperately thought.

  Yet, Nicholas floated his way in, observing Julian’s abode.

  His home boasted an impressive size, enough for one person to comfortably live without the need to cram dejected items into boxes. The construction of the abode was expertly done; the archways were paneled with exquisitely carved wood. The interior walls were painted a moss-like green, and the floor was tiled in ?tasteful chestnut wood. Without the extremely tall piles of books covering every surface in the living room, it could be considered rather well furnished.

  “Alright, welcome in, I suppose…” Julian belatedly spoke, resigning himself as he watched Nicholas slip in.

  Besides, he requires my detective services in the coming hours. What should all the fuss be for…? Surely, he'll find something to do...

  Right?

  He stayed… the whole time.

  “Hmm, Nicholas, mind not coming in?” Julian tentatively called out through the oaken door.

  “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Right…” That’s only common sense. Julian reassured himself.

  Flush!

  Using a lightly scented bar of soap, Julian rinsed his hands in the basin systematically. He internally reminded himself that he’d have to dump this basin tomorrow; the water was practically opaque with soap bubbles.

  He thought to himself as he adjusted an olive-toned coat over his striped brown vest. He deftly smoothed out his collar, patting the area down around his sapphire brooch.

  Even when I was folding laundry, preparing dinner, organizing my books, and attending to other private matters, Nicholas stayed through it all. Impressively, he is a resilient ghost! Nothing I do bores him into seeking stimulation. Most individuals would soon go insane if their life was confined to the rules of a ghost. However, Nicholas has the mental fortitude to face such a tremendously difficult lifestyle. I wonder what kind of person he was before he died…

  Finishing up in the washroom, Julian stepped out into the main hallway that led down to his living room. The moonlight bled through the ornate windows, casting its glow onto the shadowed walls. Occasional flickers from the fireplace would cast long tinges of light into the chilly walk space.

  Auburn–no, an almost black haired individual stood in the hallway, waiting for Julian’s arrival. The shadows darkened his appearance; he exuded a frightening air that even made Julian uneasy. His eyes were indistinct and murky as he intensely stared at Julian.

  “It’s 6 pm.” Nicholas muttered.

  Unbeknownst to him, Julian had held his breath. I mustn’t forget myself. All this excitement over a ghost, and I forget the dangers of the supernatural. I hadn’t even considered that he isn’t a ghost, but rather a Horror that follows those idiotic enough to interact with it… Eh. Oh well.

  “Right this way.” Julian motioned down the hallway. “We’ll discuss your case there.”

  Nicholas slowly nodded.

  As they approached the warm fireplace, the light eventually illuminated the ghost’s figure again. No longer ghastly, just otherworldly.

  Under the light, the acting detective examined the subdued weariness in Nicholas’ face.

  He sat in a lone armchair, positioned slightly away from the fireplace. As Julian sunk into the plush seat, he took a pointed glance at the consulting couch before him. Despite all the stacked books, the couch was cleaned and refurbished with care.

  “Have a seat.”

  Nicholas slightly scoffed at the schematics, but he complied. He pretended to sit down on the couch, but upon closer inspection, he was still floating a half centimeter from the surface.

  Julian folded his hands over his crossed legs, his eyes gleaming.

  “Alright. Let’s begin! Tell me, Nicholas, what has happened to you?”

  “...” Heaving a great sigh, Nicholas sharply broke eye contact before starting. His somber eyes drifted towards the flickering embers of the fireplace.

  “I do not remember much of my final moments, except that I was shot. I was certain that I had died. However, soon after I awoke, I came face-to-face with…” Nicholas gulped, his gaze turning distant.

  “Who?”

  “Antallagma.”

  Julian tilted his head. “This city’s Goddess.”

  “She spoke to me. My mother was a firm believer. I was not. Of course, I’d adhere to scripture when convenient. Attend church to fulfil expectations but… I’d never thought my so-called devotion would be rewarded.” Despite his words, Nicholas still had a tinge of doubt within it.

  “The Goddess, say… What did she look like?”

  “Iridescent hair. Pupilless eyes. She had the perfect bone structure of a woman but little to no facial features. Draped over her was a silvery chiffon that billowed every time she spoke. I’d say the Goddess’ depiction in the churches lack accuracy. They’re all too human.” Something about her was almost superficial. Nicholas fearfully thought. His instincts told him that the interaction with the Goddess was both a blessing and a curse.

  Right, that’s quite different. Normally, Antallagma is depicted with short bronze hair and a gorgeous ornate robe. Julian noted.

  “And? What did she say?” Julian was practically buzzing with anticipation.

  “The current you is deceased. Find your killer and your body will be given back to you.” He repeated back, with a tone that poorly impersonated the great presence that he once conversed with.

  Nicholas continued, “I need you to aid the pursuit of my killer. Otherwise, I fear that when this runs out,” he points to his neck, “will be the true death of me.”

  “...” Julian pondered.

  Nicholas leaned forward, placing both hands on his knees. If his hands could sweat, they’d be damp with cold perspiration. Earnestly, he met Julian’s eyes.

  “Please.”

  A genial smile spread around Julian’s face.

  “At any rate, this is all just customary. I’d already decided to take your case back when we initially met.”

  “Was there a need for all this then?!”

  A small laugh escaped Julian. “Take it easy, Nicholas. We will be partners for the foreseeable future. Trust me when I say that I will see your case to the very end.”

  Nicholas, despite his annoyance, felt an intense sense of relief.

  Finally, I was able to tell someone.

  “...You have my gratitude, Julian.”

  Julian continued to amicably smile at the ghost while his thoughts spiraled with fascination. They clinked and grinded past each other as he quietly ruminated his new case.

  “No need to thank me yet. We haven’t even started investigating. It’s best not to overthink your case right now, since there is so much we do not know yet. For now, let’s follow the simplest lead.”

  Nicholas nodded, waiting for Julian to continue.

  “Where do you remember yourself last? Before you were killed?”

  Nicholas paused, recalling his latest memory.

  “The Garden. A bar in the Northeast district.”

  An infamous one at that! Come to mention it, Eli brought it up a while back… Shooting upright, Julian dusted himself off.

  “Then! Let’s be off. We can discuss more as we travel.”

  Evening is the perfect time to visit a bar anyway…

  Slightly puzzled, Nicholas paused before pointing out an obvious issue. “I've already gone there myself.”

  “So?”

  “So, why are we going again? Wouldn’t it be better to look somewhere else for clues?”

  “Ah…” Julian smoothed out his clothes, preparing to give a dashing claim. “You’re forgetting! You have me now.” He confidently jabbed a thumb towards himself and gave Nicholas a triumphant look.

  “Plus, with that kind of logic, there’d be no point in visiting anywhere! I’m sure that you have likely visited any location that was associated with your murder case. Any sensible corpse-turned-apparition would do that!”

  “...” Nicholas couldn’t even bear to respond, finding his overwhelming baffling confidence shocked him into silence. Unfortunately, it was painfully true that the ghost couldn’t find a good retort to his insights. The best thing to do in a situation like this is to…

  Ignore it.

  “Alright, let’s go then.”

  Julian rapped his knuckles twice on his sapphire brooch before confidently striding over to his front door.

  “Tally ho, Nicholas!” He exclaimed, as he grabbed his hat and swung open the door.

  Cold air poured into the heated apartment and Nicholas faintly wondered what it felt like to be warm again.

  Time Remaining:

  [362:04:10]