Original Works

Black Ghost – Pt. 2

Black Ghost Part 2

The black ghost left me awhile after the quitting of my employee. It did not possess anyone else, and I was starting to believe it was gone for good. I kept telling myself it was all part of my imagination, and I was no longer worried about it returning. But peace was short lived, because something else came up.

It was a hot afternoon when my lawyer came to see me. He had on a plain suit and he carried his typical brown suitcase. When he sat across my table, I knew something was up.

“What’s the problem now?” I asked.

“You’re being sued,” he said.

“Nothing you can’t handle, right?”

“Well, it’s not the typical lawsuit. You’re being charged for plagiarism and work place hostility.”

“Plagiarism? Hostility? What nonsense is this? I run an honest newspaper! Who is pressing these charges?!”

“A group of journalists who previously worked for you,” he replied.

“Those little scums!” I spat.

“Those little scums have a lot against you. They’re hoping to take you down.”

“Well then stop them! You’ve done it before, do it again. I don’t pay you for nothing.”

“I am, but-”

“What do you need? Hurry up and stop wasting my time!” I shot at him. The news set me on edge and I could not believe I was being challenged by a group of amateur journalists.

“I need to talk to some of your employees,” he calmly said.

“Then go do it! Why do you have to act so incompetent? Don’t make me hire someone else,” I threatened.

My lawyer nodded, and as he got up from his seat my worst nightmare returned. It floated up from the floor and trailed behind him as he walked to the door. When my lawyer reached for the handle, the black ghost entered his body.

I was literally glued to my seat as I watched it happen. There was a long moment of silence as I was expecting something bad. Indeed, my expectations were met. My lawyer pulled his hand back and turned to face me.

In a calm and composed manner, he said, “I have worked for you for five years. I have won many of your cases and saved you a lot of money. But after all these years, you still have no respect for me.”

He paused and waited for me to speak. When I said nothing, afraid that the black ghost might attack me through him, he continued, “Mr Trots, I sincerely hope you lose this case. Then, when you have nothing left but yourself, you would know what a horrid person you are. I’m done working for you. Goodbye and have a nice day.”

With that, my lawyer strode out of my office and never came back. The black ghost stayed though and this time I demanded an explanation.

“Why are you doing this?! What do you have against me?! Tell me!” I yelled.

The black ghost did not even turn to face me as it vanished into thin air.

The days following my lawyer’s resignation were the worst. I managed to find a new lawyer, but he was not as good. Though he put up with my demands, he just lacked something my previous lawyer had.

On the day I sat on the stand, I glared, scoffed, and did everything I could to wiggle my way out of it. I actually thought I did a good job, until the final day in court. The lawyers gave their final statements and when the jury got ready to decide on the verdict, I saw the black ghost again. It followed after them as they left the courtroom.

The guards had to hold me down when I attempted to chase after the black ghost. I was yelling and pointing at something nobody could see. And at that point, I knew I was done for.

True enough, the return of the jury was the hour of my destruction. I lost a lot of money and my publication was forced to shut down. I made the headlines of other newspapers and became both a laughing stock and a disappointment. I was no longer rich, powerful and famous, and I had no one.

As I sat in my office for the last time, I yearned for the sound of my machines. But the lack of clangs and thumps made reality sink right in. All I could do was stare at my typewriter. I did that for so long that when I finally looked up, night had arrived. But night was not alone.

Floating on the chair across my table was the black ghost. When I saw it, I stood up and asked, “Are you happy now?”

It stood up with me as I pointed my finger at its smoky face.

“You destroyed me! You are the reason I’ve lost everything! You will pay for this!” I accused as I stared it straight in the eyes.

That was when I noticed something strange. As our eyes locked, the black smoke began to solidify. Its face began to smooth out into skin and a suit materialized on its body. The exact same suit I was wearing.

It took me a few seconds but I soon realized I was pointing at myself. The exact replica of me was standing before me.

My hand began to shake as this clone repeated my words so perfectly, “You destroyed me! You are the reason I’ve lost everything! You will pay for this!”

Only then it all made sense.

I destroyed myself.

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The main theme of this two part story is pride. I’m sure some of you might have guessed it already. This story simply portrays how our pride has the power to destroy us, and if we don’t humble ourselves it will eventually be our downfall.

It is very easy to feel high and mighty through our success and talents, but its harder to practice humility. I am not afraid to admit that pride has a way of sneaking up in my life, but in those moments I remind myself that pride won’t do me any good. Hence, I always try to stay humble even though it can be a challenge sometimes.

So if you ever come face to face with pride one day, my advice is to show it the door and usher in humility 🙂

I hope you guys enjoyed this two part story and as always, let me know what you think!

© 2013 Jeyna Grace

(For more short stories, click HERE)

Original Works

Black Ghost – Pt. 1

Black Ghost Part 1

Clang, clang, thump. Clang, clang, thump.

The familiar rhythm of my machines played in the background as I got up from my seat. There he stood, fingers interlocked so tightly together they were turning white. He was scared, so scared I would fire him.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked, as I waved the article he wrote in my hand.

“I’ll write another one, Mr Trots,” he quickly replied.

“This is rubbish. A useless piece of rubbish!” I shouted, as I tore up the brown paper and threw it in his face.

“I’ll- I’ll-”

“You’ll give me a piece worthy of my paper. No junk stories! Do you hear me?!”

He nodded his head vigorously.

“Clear this mess and get out of here!” I ordered.

He scrambled to gather the torn pieces of paper, but when he took too long I shouted for him to leave. I should have had him fired, but that wasn’t the day.

As I reclined in my armchair, I picked up my half smoked cigar and shut my eyes. The sound of my machines began to build up like an orchestra. The rotating of gears and the pressing of ink onto smooth brown paper was music to my ears.

Behind me was a wide glass panel that overlooked the machines. I made sure to have sight of them because they reminded me of my success. I started out as an amateur journalist, but I soon ran a news publication. I had hundreds of people under me, I owned a big house, I had my own driver, and I was well known throughout the city. I have never failed to remind people of my success, and they would do well not forgetting it.

The soothing clanging and thumping took me deeper into my thoughts. But when I was about to hit another climax, something sounded wrong.

Clang, clang, thump, THUD!

My eyes shot open. As I whirled my chair to face the machines, I noticed black smoke seeping out from the gears. I watched as it slithered towards the glass panel. All of a sudden, there was a loud thud and I nearly fell out of my chair.

Within a split second, the smoke shaped itself into the upper body of a human being and slammed its hands onto the glass panel.

It did not have much features, only blue eyes and a smoke tail below its waist. I stared at it in horror, unsure of what to do. The only moment my eyes looked away was when I heard a knock on my door, and by the time I turned back to the black ghost, it was gone.

That night, I had trouble sleeping. I lay in bed and watched the ceiling fan spin. The black ghost did not follow me home, but even though it was not visible I could still feel its presence.

What did it want from me? That was a question that kept hammering in my head even when morning arrived.

As I clocked into work the next morning, I pulled my office blinds up to look out at the empty desks outside. I was always early, and that day was no exception. The office was very quiet except for the young journalist typing away at his desk. He must have burned the midnight oil for the story I wanted, and just as I was thinking of him, I saw him rise from his desk and walk to my office.

“Mr Trots, I have written another story,” he said as he handed me the paper.

I immediately noticed the many correction marks beneath the different words. And that alone annoyed me.

“Do I not provide you with enough paper and ink? Or are you just too lazy to type it out again?”

Of course, I knew that making corrections took more work than retyping, being he used a typewriter, but I decided to overlook that fact.

“I, I just wanted…”

He could not continue, so I let him shut himself up and began reading the story. But while I was reading it, I saw him fidgeting at the corner of my eye. As I looked up to give him a glare, I saw something that widened my eyes instead.

Floating in front of him was the black ghost. He did not seem bothered by it as he continued staring at the ground, but when I opened my mouth to ask him about it, the black ghost entered his body.

Standing up, I demanded, “Did you see that?!”

He looked up at me and then at the paper in my hand. He swallowed hard and stopped fidgeting.

“Are you deaf? Answer me!” I began to panic.

“Mr Trots,” he paused and inhaled deeply before continuing, “I quit.”

“What?” His words caught me off guard.

“I quit. I don’t want to work for you anymore. You’re a prideful, egoistic tyrant and I’m sick and tired of your treatment. I quit and I will never come back!”

Before I could find the words to answer him, he stormed out the door. And just as he took a step out of my office, the black ghost seeped out from him and stayed behind.

It seemed as though the black ghost could not leave my office. And as it watched the young journalist pack up his things and leave, I watched it. After the man was gone, the black ghost simply vanished.

I was so certain the man was possessed. He would not have quit if not for the black ghost. What was the black ghost doing? Why was it bothering me? What was its plan? Whatever it was, I was not going to let it succeed.

To be continued…

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This story was too long, so I decided to split it into two parts! You can read Part 2  here 🙂

Do let me know what you think of this story! Also, what do you personally think is the black ghost?

I would love to read your theories and your comments. So be sure to leave them below!

© 2013 Jeyna Grace

(For more short stories, click HERE)