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Charlena watched the sleeping woman, her lovely sapphire eyes bright and clear in the pale moonlight that washed the bedroom with faint, blue light. That was the best part about being a ghost, she mused delightedly to herself. The ability to come and go at will. It was a trait that most living, breathing humans would likely love to have - but of course, it came with a rather severe penalty called Death.
There were times when being a ghost was almost fun - but it meant not seeing the ones you loved anymore, at least when you'd been cooped up alone for as long as she had. She missed her family deeply. Papa with his stern dark eyes that twinkled merrily even when he scolded, and Mama with her patient, loving smile - where had they gone? Wherever it was, they had left her behind.
Perched on the plain wooden chair that she'd drawn up beside the bed, the girl folded her hands demurely upon her lap. Sunshine yellow curls cascaded about her face as she leaned forward to watch the rise and fall of Loreli's chest, accenting the angelic cast of her fragile features, and Charlena's soft lips pursed as if she were lost in thought. Deep, steady breaths had long ago settled into an easy rhythm which meant that the Queen's secretary had been cradled in the arms of sleep for some time already.
There was a puzzled expression upon Charlena's face, as if she'd been trying to understand what made Loreli the way she was. The woman had seemed kind, smart, funny - the sort that you could make friends with easily. Charlena had crept about for the past couple of days behind Loreli, following her as the secretary dealt efficiently but patiently with all she came in contact with. Spying, really. Such an ugly word, that, and Charlena had the good grace to blush as she knew that there was no better way to describe her clandestine behaviour. She'd simply wanted to make friends with the woman, for a ghost didn't have many she could spend a few moments with to ease the pangs of loneliness. She'd desperately hoped that Loreli would turn out to be such a friend, but alas. How wrong she'd been.
Who could ever know what dark secrets lurked in the hearts of others? Shuddering, Charlena cast a sad, almost frightened look around the dark room. It looked like a charnel house, and the stench was almost overpowering. Rich ruby blood slowly dripped upon the floor, creating slick, dark puddles. Most of it seemed to be drying now, and the source of the blood was apparent to even the dimmest of eyes. Strung from thin ropes that hung from the ceiling were several dead chickens, their carcasses casting strange shadows upon the walls as they swung slowly in the breeze of the open window. Feathers matted with clotted blood did little to hide the fact that the throats of the fowl had been slit.
Even as Charlena watched, another drop of dark blood trembled and splashed down onto Loreli's pillow, adding to the growing stain of red upon the pristine white linen. Why would Loreli perform such a terrible bedtime ritual? Did it help to keep her nightmares away? She'd seemed like such a nice woman�
Shuddering, the ghost rose silently to her feet and glided for the door. She didn't want to see such sights anymore, and her puzzlement grew as she faded from sight.
Frightening, wasn't it, what
some people would do in the privacy of their own homes?
