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It turns out that the ancient Celts were right; the dead can indeed come back to visit the living at Samhain, otherwise known as Halloween. Unfortunately for us dead folks, most people living today don't believe in that sort of thing, and so don't notice us when we show up. It seems that they need to believe in the custom in order to see us, no matter how much we dance around in front of them. I found that out the first year after I died.
Regardless, I keep trying. Maybe there will come a year when somebody does realize I'm there, and it'll be worth walking around on Earth again. After all, I've got an eternity, right? So I went home to Australia first, because the new day starts there before winding its way across the globe to North America. Gave me a bit more time than most spirits get.
I re-appeared in the streets of Sydney. There were other ghosts around too, and sometimes we'd nod at each other in greeting, but mostly we were determined to go back to our old stomping grounds, to see the loved ones before running out of time. None of the living denizens noticed us, of course. I went straight to my mother's home and easily passed through; it looked pretty much the same as last year, and pretty much the same as it'd been when I was alive. They were carrying on the same as usual, not realizing the significance of the day, not realizing I was there watching them (I understand that this sounds creepy, but it's the only chance I get to check on them). Mum and my sister were arguing, no surprise there. Lots of yelled words, hurt feelings all around, mostly par for the course with the Allerdyces. I stood next to them and waved my arms around, trying to tell them to shut up and listen, but of course they didn't hear me. It's tough, y'know? To be so close to them but have them ignore you. To want to tell them you're sorry, that you love them, but to have your words go unheard. I don't like it.
So I just stood around and watched, listening to them talk, peering around the house to see if anyone remembered me with a photo or something, but there weren't very many reminders. I'm a touchy subject amongst my family, the wayward son who turned into a mutant terrorist, and then died young. I don't know what they'd think if they knew I was watching them. They probably wouldn't like it. After watching them have a tense family breakfast and feeling the hostility, I got depressed and left. Maybe next year will be better.
My next stop was North America, where the last few years of my life were spent. Most of the people important to me live there, although to be honest, I wasn't looking forward to seeing them either. I'd alienated most of them just before dying, and they probably hate my guts. I just couldn't help going, to see how they're doing, what they've done with their lives recently. For all I knew they may have even cleaned up their acts and stopped killing people for the sake of mutantkind...but not bloody likely. I prepared myself to be exasperated.
I stopped off at Raven's place and sat down on the couch next to her. She was reading a book, oblivious to my presence.
"So what evil scheme are you planning this time?" I inquired, not expecting an answer. "Taking candy from babies? Beating up old people? More genocide, perhaps?"
She silently turned a page, clearly engrossed in the text. Even if I'd been flesh and blood, I doubt she would have noticed me.
"You frustrate the hell out of me, you know that? Why'd you have to turn into a psychopath? I never wanted to hurt you..."
I was startled out of my grumbling by the sudden appearance of an apparition in front of us; it was Chuck Xavier himself. At first I thought he was another ghost, but then realized it was some kind of psychic projection.
{{Mystique, how did your last mission go?}} the projection asked, and she sighed.
"It went just fine, and I'm getting tired of this," she told him, looking annoyed. I was flabbergasted. What the hell was she doing talking with Xavier?
{{I have another job for you, but this one should go more quickly than the last}} he said calmly. {{Shortpack will fill you in}}
"Fine," she replied, a thoroughly bored expression on her face. I wasn't used to that kind of look; she didn't seem to be in control of the situation, and was trying not to let it appear that it bothered her. It dawned on me that he had something over her, and that she was working for him.
"Always full of surprises, luv," I told her as she put down the book and went to get dressed. I wasn't pervy enough to follow her. "Wish you could see me, I'd sure like to talk to you..."
I kind of regretted that she left the apartment a few minutes later. It might have been interesting to see what she'd gotten up to, but I had to go haunt Dom and Blob for a while.
It turned out that I couldn't have haunted those two if I tried. They're so stupid that there's no way they could have figured out I was there, even if a big neon sign above me flashed "Look, Pyro's a ghost!!!"
They were conveniently hanging out together, so I sat down on a chair at their table whilst they played cards.
"Idiots," I said to them, "look at you. You're wasting your lives, you don't have anything better to do."
(I pretended that I wouldn't have been with them if I'd still been alive, although I probably would have).
"You're a pair of screw-ups," I told them as they shuffled the cards and played poker. Blob had a big pile of money next to him, and Dom was losing badly. "For God's sake, Dom, you're losing to Fred."
"Hawr!" Blob laughed as he won another hand. "Fork it over!"
Dominic muttered something in Greek that I knew was deeply unflattering to Blob's mum, and I couldn't help chuckling. Fred ignored him ...not that he knew what it meant, I'm sure...
"Remember what it was like when we played cards with Johnny?" Dominic asked, and I raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Yeah, he was a pain in the ass. Why'd you have to bring him up?" Blob grumbled. He'd never liked me. The feeling was mutual.
"I dunno, it was more fun playing with other people around. And I kinda miss him."
I bit my lip. I've sort of missed Dom, too. Maybe more than sort of. It gets lonely on the other side, really.
"I don't," Fred replied. "He was a prissy jerk. All 'boo-hoo, poor Senator Kelly'. Jerk."
I love you too, Fred, you eloquent bastard, I thought to myself, rolling my eyes. Well, what we have that passes for eyes.
"Don't speak ill of the dead," Dom scolded, "or they'll come back to haunt you."
I couldn't stop laughing for the rest of morning.
That brings me to here, now, in the early afternoon. I've decided to go see someone I haven't visited since before I died. She had been important to me once, but we'd drifted apart, and I've always regretted that. I hope she's happy these days, but it'll be difficult to watch her with some other guy (if she has one), knowing that it could have been me, if not for the disease. I materialize inside her apartment, feeling like a bit of a stalker...but I just want to know if Eileen's okay. I look around the living room, wondering where she is, when suddenly she peers into the room from a doorway, looking puzzled and a bit concerned.
"You look great, babe," I say wistfully, noting how pretty she still is. She doesn't hear, but she's still looking around carefully.
"Is someone there?" she calls out, her eyes narrowing, and I'm startled.
"Yeah Eileen, I'm here! How could you tell??" I wave my arms around wildly, walking right up to her. She's still looking around, looking past me, and I realize she can't see me...she just senses me, probably with her electro-magnetic powers. She always was sensitive to fluctuations in the EM field.
"I've missed you..." I tell her sadly. "We never should have ended it like we did. I hope things are working out better for you than they did for me" (a little bit of dead guy humor there).
She doesn't look satisfied, but turns back to go into her bedroom, and I follow, feeling a bit guilty about it. She turns around abruptly, an expression of suspicion on her face.
"Whoever you are...just get out of here," she announces loudly, and I groan with frustration.
"I'm not an evil mutant trying to get ya, `Leen. It's St. John. Your old boytoy, remember? I'm dead, I just wanted to see you again..."
Suddenly I feel immense pain; I didn't even know I could. It feels like I'm being pulled apart, and I yell. She's using her powers on the distortion she senses: me! I try to resist and pull back, struggling to keep my cohesion together. For all I know, she can yank my ghost molecules apart and scatter them to the winds, meaning Casper Allerdyce would be no more. It's a bit disconcerting.
"Cut it out, luv--!" I mutter desperately, as if she could hear me. And then it stops, though I feel frozen in place, unable to move.
"St. John...?" she says incredulously. "What the hell are you?!"
I move my lips, but no sound comes out. Uh-oh.
"I can see you...whatever you are," she insists. "You're not an illusion, are you?"
I try to say no, and failing that, try to shake my head, but still can't move. She's got me by the balls, so to speak.
"But St. John is dead. Is this some kind of stupid Halloween trick? I don't find it funny at all."
Not a trick, luv, I think worriedly. Let me go before you strangle me or something. On the other hand, that might not be so bad. Getting your ghost destroyed by the woman you loved is better than wandering around forever. Sorry I never said goodbye, I think. Just wish things could have ended under better circumstances.
She raises her hand, and I feel myself being yanked again, which is even more painful than the last time. I let out a most un-ghostly and un-manly yelp, gritting my teeth and getting ready for...presumably...the end. Suddenly my surroundings seem to snap into greater focus, and this is startling.
"Eileen--?" I say, puzzled, and she just gapes at me. For a moment I realize that she heard me, and I smile at her. But then everything around me is dark, impenetrable, and I remember this feeling: it's what happens when Samhain ends and the walking ghosts are taken back to our world. I'm sucked in, cursing angrily at my luck and the powers that be, and the next thing I know, I'm back where I belong the other 364 days a year.
"Dammit," I mutter aloud, finding myself alone. There are no other ordinary spirits around me, though the place is usually packed. The only one around is that weird Gatekeeper fellow who creeps out even the dead.
"Where the Hell is everybody?" I snap at him, knowing full well that I'm not supposed to use that word.
"They are still in the world of the living," he replies. "Samhain is not yet over."
"Well then, why am I back here?"
"She sent you back."
"She...Eileen? Why?"
"She wasn't ready to accept what she saw. Perhaps next year," he says in his usual monotone, turning away from me to watch for the newly dead souls that constantly arrive.
"Well...damn," I grumble. I'm not supposed to use that word, either. I sit down on the ground and put my head in my hands, moping and thinking about what happened. She saw me, which is great, but she rejected me, which isn't. Dead or not, I still have an ego, and that hurts. It'll be another year before I can go back and see if she's ready to accept me...but hey, I can wait...
