003 Road Trip

  Ooooh… a road trip!

  Skully was on the move.

  He wore a dark robe, concealing most of his skeletal frame. He even suppressed his fmes, which was impressive, considering he usually burned like a walking torch.

  Then came the Normies, his silent, obedient skeleton ckeys. At his command, they dragged out a carriage—an old, rickety-looking thing, but still sturdy enough to hold a load of chests and supplies.

  Then, something cool happened.

  A few Normies brought piles of bones, dumping them in front of Skully like some weird offering. With a wave of his bony hand, the bones floated, twisted, and then snapped together, forming skeletal horses.

  Okay, that was awesome.

  Some of the Normies continued packing more supplies into the carriage, their movements eerily precise. Once everything was set, Skully barked a few more indecipherable commands, and two Normies climbed onto the coachman’s seat, gripping the reins.

  When Skully entered the carriage, I followed right behind him and plopped down comfortably.

  Skully stared at me.

  Like, really stared.

  I could almost hear his thoughts.

  "Why are you like this?"

  Of course, the nguage barrier meant I had no idea what he was actually saying, but from his expression (as much as a skull could have expressions), I guessed it was somewhere along the lines of:

  “Why are you in my personal space?”

  I just grinned. Road trip, baby!

  Skully proceeded to shout at me.

  And when I say shout, I mean full-on cussing, waving his arms, pointing at the door like I was an unwanted stray.

  Of course, I just sat there, unfazed.

  I mean, what was he going to do? Kill me? Pfft. Good luck with that, buddy.

  After a while, he just gave up, sighed dramatically (despite having no lungs), and gestured for the Normies to move out.

  I took that as my cue to get comfortable and turned to stare out the window.

  If Skully could talk to me, we could’ve pyed Eye Spy or something. But as, nguage barrier.

  So, instead, I just watched the scenery, taking in how otherworldly this pce was.

  It was daylight, meaning I could actually see a lot.

  And man, this pce was nothing like Earth.

  Boredom was the real enemy of the afterlife.

  I sighed, phased through the wooden boards, and drifted toward the chests Skully had packed. Maybe he had something interesting in there?

  Did I forget to mention it? I have night vision now.

  So, even in the dim interior of the carriage, I could see everything clearly. Of course, I still preferred daylight. Another quirky trait you wouldn't normally find in a ghost.

  I rummaged around, phasing my ghostly hands through Skully’s belongings, and after a few disappointing finds (scrolls, bones, a vial of something glowing ominously), I finally stumbled upon a picture book.

  Jackpot.

  Using my weak telekinesis, I nudged the book into my hands, then extended my phasing ability to it, pulling it along as I drifted back to my seat beside Skully.

  When I sat down, book in hand, Skully turned to stare at me.

  Like, really stare.

  I shrugged. “What? You got something against bedtime stories?”

  Ignoring his intense, probably confused judgment, I flipped open the book.

  It was a storybook, clearly old but well-kept—maybe something from Skully’s past life?

  The illustrations told the story of a princess trapped in a tower, guarded by an evil magus.

  Of course, I couldn’t understand a single word, but hey—progress!

  Thirty minutes ter...

  "Oh man, I could use some TV right now..."

  I realized something about myself.

  I got bored too easily.

  Was I always like this? Probably. I never really thought about it until I became a ghost with literally nothing to do. No phone, no social media, no job interviews to fail. Just me, Skully, and an endless expanse of time.

  It made me understand why ghosts turn malevolent.

  I remembered what Mom used to say.

  "It's inevitable, anak. A ghost left too long without purpose will rot. And when a ghost rots, it loses its mind."

  Dad said the same thing.

  "You think spirits stay friendly forever? They start forgetting themselves. They start hating the living. You either move on fast or you become something else."

  That was one of my biggest motivations for wanting to be destroyed.

  To be fair, they did say there were exceptions… but…

  If I had to exist like this forever, what were the chances I’d snap one day?

  I didn’t want to be one of those vengeful spirits you see in horror movies, shrieking at people just for existing. That sounded exhausting. There was no guarantee I wouldn’t snap, would I?

  So yeah. If Skully ever figured out how to off me, I wouldn’t mind.

  Until then, I had a picture book to read.

  The story inside the storybook was surprisingly dark for something filled with colorful illustrations.

  It started with a princess locked in a tower of bones.

  She had golden hair, flowing like silk, and eyes that wept silver tears.

  The Evil Magus, a shadowy figure with burning blue eyes (huh, that kinda reminded me of Skully), had cursed her to remain in the tower forever.

  "No one will come for you," the Magus told her.

  "No knight is strong enough. No king is willing to pay the price. You belong to me now."

  The princess did not cry.

  Instead, she smiled.

  "That’s fine," she said, sitting by the window. "I like watching the stars."

  Of course, the dialogues were all imagined in my head. Because again, I couldn’t read.

  The Magus left, confused but amused.

  Days passed. Then weeks. Then months.

  Knights came to rescue her, climbing the tower, breaking through its walls of bone—but none ever reached her.

  Because each one was devoured.

  See, the tower itself was alive.

  It had teeth, veins, and a beating heart hidden deep within its walls.

  The princess never screamed when the knights were taken. She simply watched the stars and waited.

  Waited for what?

  I turned the page.

  The final illustration showed the princess standing by the window, looking down at a lone figure below.

  A knight? No.

  A man in bck robes, blue fmes flickering from his skull.

  I frowned.

  That was way too simir to Skully.

  I gnced at him.

  He was still gring at me, muttering in his nguage. Probably cussing me out for stealing his book.

  I shrugged and went back to reading.

  Eventually, I got tired of the book and returned it to where it belonged.

  Alright. Time for new entertainment.

  What else could I do?

  I thought back to when I was alive, hanging around with my siblings and cousins. If there was one universal truth, it was that annoying your siblings was a national pastime.

  If your siblings weren’t around, the next best target was a friend or a cousin.

  And if they weren’t avaible?

  You improvise.

  That was how pranks were born.

  So… what mischief was I up to now?

  I turned to Skully, who was hunched over, reading some old-looking tome filled with symbols I couldn’t understand. His bony fingers traced the text, the blue fmes of his skull flickering softly.

  I poked him.

  Just a little tap.

  With my index finger.

  Skully stiffened.

  Slowly, he turned his skull to gre at me, his eyes made of blue fiery orbs burst forth.

  He swatted at my hand—but I deactivated my tactile telekinesis at the st second, making my finger phase through him like I wasn’t even there.

  Skully paused.

  Then went back to reading.

  I poked him again.

  He growled something in his angry Italian-sounding nguage and swung harder. Again, my finger phased through him like smoke.

  This was almost like a game.

  How many times could I poke Skully before he lost his mind?

  For the next few minutes, I poked, he swatted. I poked, he swatted.

  His growls turned into low snarls. Then angry muttering. Then full-on cussing.

  Finally, he snapped.

  With a sharp crackle of magic, he threw a fireball at me.

  It went right through my chest and hit the carriage wall, leaving a scorch mark.

  I stared at it.

  Skully stared at it.

  Then he turned to me with a look of pure frustration, fmes brighter than ever.

  I grinned.

  "What? You mad?"

  He snarled something, then violently flipped a page in his book.

  I leaned back, feeling immensely satisfied.

  Ghost or not, annoying someone would never get old.

  Yep.

  I’d fully turned to the dark side if annoying people had become my only source of entertainment.

  If I had a heartbeat, I would’ve been concerned about myself.

  Before I could continue my torture of Skully, the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

  I phased through the ceiling and peeked outside.

  A bunch of small, green critters stood in the middle of the dirt road, chattering in a guttural, squeaky nguage.

  Were those…?

  Goblins?

  Huh. Neat.

  Now, the real question: what kind of goblins were they?

  Were they the feral, monster-type that raided vilges and ate people?

  Or were they the "civilized" type that didn’t eat people but still engaged in… seedy conduct?

  Before I could decide, there was a blur of motion.

  In the blink of an eye, Skully was already in the middle of the goblins.

  His dark robe exploded off his form, and blue fmes erupted from his entire body like an inferno.

  Oh.

  Oh no.

  He didn’t even hesitate.

  Fireballs, lightning bolts, jagged ice spears—he was throwing everything at them like he was venting every ounce of frustration in his bones.

  And judging by the scorched goblin corpses flying in all directions, he had a lot to vent.

  "Damn, Skully," I muttered, watching the carnage unfold.

  One of the goblins tried to run.

  Skully shed out with a spectral blue chain, wrapping around the goblin’s neck and yanking it back into the sughterhouse.

  Oh, man.

  I almost felt bad.

  Almost.

  Okay, so… I normally wasn’t the kind of guy who enjoyed watching mass sughter, except if it was in a movie.

  As a matter of fact, there was a time when I used to be vegan.

  Yeah, used to be.

  It didn’t st long.

  Because, well… meat was delicious.

  I had tried convincing myself that tofu was a worthy substitute. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

  But now? Being a ghost meant I’d never get to taste a juicy burger again. No crispy bacon, no chicken adobo, no sizzling sisig on a hot pte—just… nothing. Maybe that was why I could watch sentient creatures being snuffed out in front of me and feel nothing.

  I mean, Skully was obliterating them.

  Goblins were screaming as they were incinerated, electrocuted, frozen, or outright exploded into tiny green chunks.

  And I just… watched.

  Not horrified. Not even disturbed.

  Just… curious.

  Would I still feel the same if it were humans?

  I wasn’t sure.

  And that?

  That was a little concerning.