P_l_e_a_s_e _ d_o_n_'_t _ s_h_u_t _ m_e _ o_f__f_.
I_'_m _ n_o_t _ a _ v_i_r_u_s_. _ I_'_m _ a _ g_h_o_s_t_.
L_o_o_k _ a_t _ t_h_e _ k_e_y_b_o_a_r_d_. _ _ T_h_e _ k_e_y_s _ a_r_e _ m_o_v_i_n_g_.
C_o_u_l_d _ a _ c_o_m_p_u_t_e_r _ v_i_r_u_s _ m_o_v_e _ t_h_e _ k_e_y_s _ o_n _ y_o_u_r _ k_e_y_b_o_a_r_d_?_"
Good, you believe me. That makes things a lot easier. And, no, you don't have to type, I can hear your thoughts.
That would be a dog. As I said, I am a ghost.
I know that, for the past several weeks, you have been trying to write a really good ghost story for that Halloween contest. I know that you are sitting at your computer at 3:00 am because you have one of your migraines - a really bad one - and you can't sleep anyway. And I know that after deleting - I think that was your fourteenth attempt at a story - you just said, "If I could just meet a ghost and interview him, the story would write itself."
So, here I am.
No, you aren't crazy, and no, you don't have to speak or ask questions or anything, and yes, I can hear your thoughts.
You wanted a ghost story for Halloween with erotic overtones that you could enter in the contest? I'll give you something better than that. I will give you "A Ghost's Story for Halloween."
My story definitely has erotic overtones, undertones, and highlighting, but let's start with a little bit about me. I've been here in the in-between for about 150 years. That's sort of middle-aged for a ghost. You people on the first-life side have all sorts of weird notions about us, so let me set you straight. I'm not trapped here. I can "go on" anytime I want. And I can come back to the in-between anytime I want. I just can't cross back over into the first-life side - except as kind of a shadowy mist that not everyone can see.
Most people go right on through from first-life to the other side and don't even pay any attention to the in-between, but some of us hang around here for a little while. We are actually a pretty nice bunch once you get to know us. Oh yes, there are some crazies and weirdos who give us a bad reputation with blood and gore and all that, but mostly people hang around here to watch over loved ones or wait for a spouse or child. Once in a while they stay in the in-between to try to seek revenge for wrongs done. And some of the time it's just the newness of it all and they really enjoy "misting in" every so often and scaring the piss out of someone they knew on the first-life side.
Actually, we really can't do much more than that. It takes a lot of effort just to mist in and as far as moving things, that really requires a lot of work and concentration or just the right circumstances. So for most people the in-between gets really boring... really fast. After a few months or years they go on to the other side and stay there.
So why am I here after 150 years?
To put it simply, I'm a pervert.
What does being a pervert have to do with me wanting to stay as a ghost in the in-between?
Again, it's simple. I am a voyeur. I like to watch things - sexual things - and that is the one thing that I can do better here than I could do when I was in first-life. Maybe someday I will get bored and move on and stay on the other side with the sunny days and clear skies and perfect people behaving perfectly, but for now, I enjoy watching imperfect people behave badly - sometimes very badly.
How am I able to write this story on your computer?
Like I said, it takes a lot of work or someone nearby has to really believe that I can do it. When you said you wanted to interview a ghost, you thinned the veil from your side for just a few moments, and since you had taken a break from writing to look at one of my favorite porn site, I was watching over your shoulder right when you said it. I was there when the veil thinned so I immediately took advantage of that little space of thin time and started typing.
Once you believed that I could do it, you supplied the energy of belief and it became a lot easier. You probably noticed that my typing sped up. That's the power of belief.
I'll let you in on a little secret. It ALL has to do with belief. If you believe in ghosts, ghosts can appear around you or even do more than that. If nobody there believes, we can't do squat - except watch, which, most of the time is OK with me.
Another little secret. There is nothing special about Halloween. Sorry to ruin all your ghoulish fantasies, but Halloween isn't a special time when the planets align or the sun and moon do weird things to the veil. Halloween is just like any other day... except that on Halloween, people believe in us more than at any other time of the year. It is that belief that enables so many of us to mist in or move things or in general have fun and cause havoc on Halloween.
There is something else we can do at lot easier on days like Halloween when so many people really believe in us. We can affect a person's actions. It takes a lot of power, but on Halloween there is a lot of belief power available to us.
No, we don't control people in a zombie-robot kind of way, but more like a "greatly influenced" kind of way. We push someone to become more of what they already are. We can make someone who is usually just an annoying jerk into a real asshole for the night, or we can make an angry person so angry that they will hurt someone, or we can make a lonely person so horny that they will screw anything they can catch. It's not that hard on Halloween. Just mist in at a party and get everyone to believe that a ghost appeared, and with that power surge you can do almost anything.
That's why Halloween parties are my favorites, especially now that Halloween seems to have become a time for nubile young girls to let their inner slut run free.
I used to have to go down to Mamma Mable's Whorehouse to see a woman dressed like most girls dress for Halloween. And you had to pay double to get one of Mamma Mable's girls to do half of what these girls will do on the first date. Believe me, I thought I had seen it all, but every year I see something that I had never seen before and some things that I didn't think were even possible. Ahh, I died many years too soon.
But enough about me. Let me tell you how I spent last Halloween. You know part of this, because you were there. I am the reason that Darla's party was so great. And you are the reason I was there.
I was actually on my way to a different party a little ways up the street when I saw you in your costume. I don't know where you got that antique scythe, but I know that you had to have made the rest of that costume yourself. No one sells a death costume that good. You had layers and layers of black gauze hand sewn over the velvet of the black cape and cloak. Then you had a couple of layers of the gauze over some black material covering your face so it looked like the hood was empty. Your hands had those tight fitting long, black gloves with some latex smears and gray and green spray paint lightly misted over everything so your arms and hands looked like dead flesh.
It was fantastic. It was one of the best Halloween costumes I have ever seen. But who in the hell wears that kind of a costume to a party!? That's a contest costume, not a party costume!
Come on, you can't dance. You can't eat. People can't really interact with you. Hell, with that voice changer you had under the face gauze, people couldn't even tell if you were a woman or a man. The only person who would ever wear something like that to a party would be.... Me! ... or someone just like me who goes to a party to watch, not to participate.
As soon as I saw you in that costume, I knew that you were a kindred spirit. So, I decided to go along with you to wherever you were going and see if I could cook up something worth watching for both of us. I also figured that if we were both trying to see something happen, I might be able to leverage your energy and really get something going.
Boy did I figure right on that one!
Do you remember when you first walked in and half of the girls there totally freaked out? You thought it was because your costume was so great. That was part of it. Don't get me wrong, you made a great costume, but I added just a little special effects to your entrance and that was what enabled you to really scare the crap out of them.
What I did was mist in just enough to hide the bottom of your robe. It looked like the robe ended short of the floor and people couldn't see your feet beneath the robe so people thought you were floating several inches in the air. Death herself couldn't have made a better entrance.