Fading Out...

Fading Out…

By Ayush Srivastava

2014 Copyright Ayush Srivastava

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support

TABLE OF CONTENTS

SUMMARY

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Summary

It was supposed to be just a dare...

When 18 year old Nick Demming Peters entered the haunted Victorian mansion of his small town of Anacresia on a challenge to prove his bravery, on the inside he shook with fear of what might happen. The mansion was haunted by a ghost lady who hated anyone who dared to intrude into her home or tried to damage it. With his barely concealed shaking legs, he enters the mansion at dusk to stay until dawn or until he recovers a sapphire necklace kept in the ghost lady’s room. He was hoping nothing might happen. That nothing changes. But everything did.

But it is never really that simple now, is it?

When 100 year old ghost of Daisy McCain, who died at a young age of 17 on the night her wedding day’s eve, sees the young boy entering the mansion with barely hidden fear, she immediately is drawn to him. But when she sees him try to sneak out the necklace she prizes far more than anything else, she is enraged and decides to scare him to scar him forever. But when she appears in front of him, something happens that neither expected.

And now they have a choice to make: Love or Existence?

A ghost who chooses to stay can only last 150 years while slowly going weak. Daisy is barely able to hold on to her appearance and she often suffers from memory losses. She knows that having chosen to stay, she will just fade out of existence, never to be reborn again. But Nick isn’t accepting that. He never believed in love at first sight but is now in love with Daisy, who seems to be reciprocating his feelings. Now, when Daisy has no hope for herself, he believes that there must be a way. But then there is a choice to be made by them both, do they stay together and let Daisy fade out or do they work to help Daisy move on, and separate her from him and leave two broken hearts in the process?

Prologue

Shane’s POV

You cocky idiot. You think you are the bravest and strongest in the world don't you Nick? I ask, still infuriated at him for asking Millie for coffee even though I liked her and he knew it. The only advantage he had over me was that he braved asking her out in front of her big brother, the football quarterback Mike M Johnson, who threatened severe damage to anyone asking her out, moments before I did.

I cannot say I am that but at least I am better than you. He replies and my anger spikes. That cocky bastard! I barely control myself from hitting him in that face he is so proud of. The best 'public' part of me, he calls it. Yeah as if he ever even got to second base with anyone.

You are just a fake, Nick, and I can prove it. Complete one dare of mine and I will accept you to be truly fearless. I say and quickly search through my thoughts for his fears. So what if he has been my best friend since kindergarten? I look for the scariest dare I can think for him but I come up empty.

Sure. What is it? Nick replies and I see a self-confident gleam in his eyes. Overconfident idiot. I am still thinking as we walk while I discard ideas that would have worked on me but I know that he will do them easily, despite the consequences. No, I think, the challenge must make him shiver before it even begins.

As we walk past, I keep staring away from inspiration while Nick hums some random tune. I could ask him to paint Mr Cole's ferocious bulldog. Nah, he will just throw a bucket of paint on it or just feed it a sleeping pill somehow and paint it then. I could ask him to destroy Mrs Andrews’s beautiful garden. Really? That's what I come up with? Next!

And I almost miss the way Nick shoulder get slightly stiff and his humming fades a little as we pass the ruined 'haunted' McCain mansion. It is Victorian in design and would have been once beautiful but now, it is only a blot in our city's reputation. Freaks and 'ghost hunters' keep coming to our town to meet and, try to, capture the ghost that haunts its walls but so far none have succeeded. All of us have been warned for three generations now not to go to that place or else-. I freeze and smile at Nick who keeps walking, oblivious to the fact that I am no longer beside him.

Hey, Nick! I got it. Your dare is... I say and pause for dramatic effect. He stops but doesn't turn. His voice comes, Come on, Shane. Can't we do this somewhere else? His voice sounds normal but having known him for years, I see him shifting his weight on his right leg nervously and the stiff set of his shoulders and I know he is not comfortable here. Even though I feel a little bad, I push away the guilt as I realize this challenge is exactly what I need for my revenge. And so I finish, to get the sapphire necklace kept inside the McCain mansion.

He freezes and I know that he isn't even breathing. I have a pretty good idea how he would look like. Face drained of blood, eyes wide in disbelief and his body... well, he is trying but I can see the shaking.

What?! He shouts but it has lost its strength and is full of fear and anxiety. Then he turns and I see that I guessed correctly. And now his shivering is clearly noticeable to anyone who would look at him.

"Stop this craziness Shane. What you are asking is insane! He shouts and then walks to me. Grabbing my hand, he tries to drag me away but I resist. God, have you been possessed? What are you talking about? Do you know what this stupid dare could cause?" He practically blows my ear off with the shouting.

Resisting my urge to take it all back just to have him spare my poor suffering ears (hmm, that sounded a little melodramatic), I simply smile back at him and say, You are the bravest, aren't you Nick? So why hesitate? I mean that necklace must be just thrown around somewhere so why not just take it? As I say this, an idea comes to mind. If he refuses, he is humiliated and if he succeeds then I will hand it over to Millie and take all the credit. You are just a chicken, aren't you Nick? And then to tease him further, I begin to make clucking noises at him. Childish and silly, but it works.

I am not a chicken! Fine, I will go and bring it to you. Nick growls at me and begins to stomp to the door of the mansion. But it still doesn't hide his shaking hands. Then, for further pleasure, I shout, Not now, Nick. My dare wasn't complete. You have to go in at dusk and come out at dawn. Not before that.

He opens his mouth to protest but one clucking noise silences him. I can see he is angry but he is holding it back for some reason. Why? I am tempted to ask but I don't. It doesn't matter right now.

With a defeated sigh, he says, All right. I will go in there tonight. Now that it is done, I am going home for now. Do NOT follow me. He says with a special emphasis on 'not'. Then, before I can even open my mouth, he leaves me alone.

As I stare at his retreating form, my conscience tells me that I have been too harsh and cruel and I shouldn't have done that. It tells me to apologize but then what happened today at cafeteria comes back to me and I stop myself from calling him out and doing exactly what my conscience wants.

He needs to suffer. I console myself. He deserves it.

For some reason, even I realize my lie. Maybe he does, but not this. Definitely not this. My conscience replies and I can't help but agree.

*****

Later that night

Where is he? Is he not coming? I pace at the entrance, waiting for Nick to show up. A huge part of me now realizes that I was wrong but I know I cannot back out now or it will give Nick the opportunity to taunt me forever. So I only hope that he isn't coming. Let him just face defeat than be blinded by his ego. But can I truly expect that of him when I haven’t done so either?

I am about to head back home when I hear a snapping of twig and I move my head so fast that for a second, I fear I might have given myself a whiplash. Almost fortunately, though, nothing like that happens. Nick, though, steps out of the trees surrounding the house, and my heart tries to pummel out of my chest.

Still, I put on my brave face and say, So you are here. It isn't too late to back out even now. Just accept defeat and we will leave. Or you can walk in and face the dare with indefinite consequences. Please back out. Please be a coward.

I made my choice already Shane. There is no need to bait me further. He replies, trying to work out calmness in his voice but fear is clearly present.  He is scared. Make him back down. You sure Nick? The ghost won't tolerate any disrespect. Even that Jimmy kid, you know the one who tried to hook up with a girl in here, was so badly scared that he needed months of therapy to even talk without looking around for anything coming for him. And that girl and her parents had to move to some other place. And then there is the thing that happened to the last group who tried to tear the mansion down. What happened to them still gives the witnesses nightmares and you still want to go in? Back down Nick. As I speak those last three words, I wince as I realize what I just did.

With Nick, you never ask him to accept defeat directly but try to plant doubt. To try to force he means his ego will take over and he will make the wrong choice. And as expected, he replies, And accept defeat? Never! I am going to get that necklace and no ghost can stop me. His voice almost cracks at the word 'ghost' but it still doesn't stop him.

He yanks the door open and I try one last time, Please Nick. You don't really have to do this. Just quit and no one will ever even find out, I promise. Just don't make any hasty decisions Nick. That is all I ask. I swear, no one will ever know about this.

He stops at the threshold and responds, I don't care about the others, Shane. But I will know and I will always regret it with a 'what if?’ you know. He pauses and then says, You know, I was going to send you in my place for the date with Millie. You said you were going to ask her out but you were too scared to really try so I had to force you. I was just trying to help. And this is what I get in return for help. Thanks a lot, Shane. He closes the door behind him as I stare at him in shock.

And then, once I recover, I sit down at the base of a nearby tree and make myself comfortable for the night. Then I check my wrist and see that it is still 12 hours from dawn. I sigh, Well, it is going to be a long night. And in my mind, only one thought keeps coming back again and again, bringing a new wave of guilt each time.

Please be okay, Nick. Please be okay.

Chapter 1

Daisy’s POV

It’s so quiet. The moon is so alone in the dark sky. Just like me. I just wish someone would come. Or something would happen. It’s been so long that they all went away. Maybe I should too. But how?

A creaking of the wooden floor in the entrance hall breaks me out of my gloomy thoughts and I immediately feel myself prepare for yet another intrusion. These people should just learn their lesson and leave me alone. Why do they keep coming to disturb me and disrespect someone else’s property? Before a living human can blink, I move from the attic above the first floor of the house to the entrance hall, hiding among the curtains. I wouldn’t have chosen to hide, being a ghost and all that, but with my almost hundred years of being a ghost, I have almost lost control over my form. And I would rather not scare this intruder away… just yet.

From between the red velvety curtains, which are now covered with dust and spider webs, I peek carefully at the intruder. A teenager. He seems about the age I was when I died. And his height is about six feet, two inches taller than me. From my angle of view though, I can only see his brown hair. I look around to see if there is a girl around as well. Today’s teenagers think that people abandoned haunted houses just for them to have a place to make out, and more. I had seen a lot, not to the level of becoming a pervert though, and scared them away as soon as they let their guard down. This time, though, there doesn’t seem to be a girl around. Turn around. Show me your face.

It is as if my words compel him and he turns in my direction. The first thought in my mind is that he looks so scared that even the sound of wood creaking beneath his feet might make him wet his pants. No, I remind myself, not pants. Jeans. After that I notice how his aqua blue eyes dart around the place in fear, looking for something, probably me. His eyes pass over my hiding spot and I feel a bit of affection of how nice he looks. The thought is accompanied with a frown and mental shake. This un-ladylike behaviour isn’t fitting of a lady, even though this lady has been dead for a century. Besides, he has nothing on my George.

After a few more minutes of staring around for a sign of my presence, he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. With the help of the advanced ability of hearing, I now focus on his heartbeat, which is still beating quite erratically. I am tempted to just come out and make him run but these silly pranks are not how I was raised. Death is not an excuse to forget manners. Still I doubt him making through the hour with me.

Of course the resolve to be a well-mannered lady flies out the window when I notice a half-burned candle near the entrance, which is just in edge of sight of the mortal boy. With one wave of hand, I burn the wick of the candle of a flame several feet long and feel like a kid again when the mortal yelps and runs away from the door and the now-extinguished candle while clutching his chest as if to stop his heart from escaping. In my defence, I never really was a true lady. I loved pranks. Which ultimately brought to this point of my existence.

The thought is sobering and becoming serious once again, I look at the mortal boy once again. He is panting in fear as he still looks around the place for a sighting. All the while, he leans against a long couch covered with a white cloth. For one small second, a part of me, though small, desires to raise the white cloth in the shape of a ghost. Logic penetrates and I stop for no reason other than to not give him a heart attack.

After gathering courage, which takes several long minutes, he begins to walk towards the stairs for the sleeping quarters of the owners on the first floor of the ruins. It is a pathetic reason but the only reason I don’t pull off another prank and speed him up from snail’s pace is that the wooden stairs are old and probably decaying. Caution is a good thing to have against this place. Being a ghost, even I couldn’t save this place from the ill-effects of time and disgusting insects. I want him scared, not dead.

Moving through air and space is now quite easy for me as a ghost. Occasional quirks aside, I can get exactly where I want without being displaced by even an inch. As he makes his way up, I sift through the air and appear in the hidden passage in the wall. I hadn’t even known about these until after I was a ghost. My killer had, though, and would have gotten away if I hadn’t disclosed its existence to others. And all of this because she couldn’t control her greed.

Through the painting of my alive self, I watch him as he climbs up the stairs and finally reaches the first floor. I almost announce my presence to him when I see his face from such a close distance. It’s him. He’s back! But how? A part of me is still watching me this strangely familiar scared teenager in the twenty-first century but another part of me is lost in the time that is now a century old.

Samuel. Do not dare to hit my horse with that stick or I swear I will beat you with it myself before handing you over to father. I scream at the scrawny young boy who teasingly holds a thin branch in his hands.

Princess. He uses my nickname and I groan at his defiant tone. He is definitely going to do it. Just because I am your horse-keeper’s son doesn’t mean I am your servant. Or that I am not your best friend. And with that, he hits my innocent horse in the rear with quite some force. As my horse runs away with a shriek, I scream that I will kill him. And he responds that he would look forward to it.

An hour later, both of our fathers stood in my father’s office scolding him while I looked at him with equal parts smugness and equal parts sadness. I never meant to report what he did but neither one had expected my horse to veer towards his father. Mr Cullingham almost had a heart-attack when he saw me on a panicked horse. Even now in the middle of scolding, he often looked my way to see if I was injured in any way and was hiding it to treat it later on my own. I’m sorry. I swear nothing was going to go bad. I was already following her on foot to make sure of that.

That doesn’t excuse the fact that my daughter was on a panicked out-of-control horse! Dad roared and even I flinched. My dad in a temper was a sight best left unseen. Our entire house, a two-storeyed Victorian house shook from the basement to the attic, at the harsh sound of dad. Even Mr Cullingham took a step back in fear.