ghost!gon

pechyenka:

i made various references to various indie rpgs hope you don’t mind~

   Lazily wiping his bloody hands on his shorts, Killua kicked the corpse away from the door and entering one of the many hallways of the eerie, deserted mansion. The rumors were that a witch had once lived here and the house would obey her every command, much like a maze, but she had died and left behind the vengeful souls she had captured to wander around, cursing every person who might stupidly take refuge there. But, when everything was carefully searched and turned over, nothing was there. No “vengeful souls”, no witch to throw you into a cauldron, full of other children and newt eyes.

   “Still, it’s a pretty creepy place.” Having finished the job early, Killua guessed he could take a break and explore some. Who knows, it might be pretty interesting. Starting with the room next to the one carrying a dead body, he opened the door to find what seemed to be a normal girl’s room. A diary laid upon a rotting desk, a bed with torn, dusty purple sheets seemed to have something lurking underneath it. Nothing interesting, Killua ventured on. The next room was filled with books, but seemed as if someone had been there recently, tidying up. Untrustworthy wood creaking beneath him, Killua entered and picked up a book. “A Funny Story….” Flipping through the pages, Killua decided it wasn’t that funny. That or whoever wrote it had a twisted sense of humor.

   Crash. Turning around calmly, he saw that all that happened was a stack of books had fallen over.  

   For being rumored to be haunted, this place isn’t all that scary. Checking out the seventh room, he found shelves full of jars. Upon closer inspection, they were all of multiple animals, similar ones being on the same shelf. They all looked the same, but everyone had a different injury of some kind. Some had fatal injuries, others, broken bones. Really, these are some weird but boring rooms. Remembering a room holding multiple paintings, one burned horribly, smelling of roses, Killua sighed and decided that this mansion wasn’t worth his time anymore. Jumping down from the banister and reaching towards the door, a sudden chill ran through Killua.

   “Were you the one who killed the man upstairs?” Whipping around, Killua scanned the room for the origin of the voice. Nobody could have been here without my knowing… “Over here!” Up? Looking upwards, Killua barely saw him. A translucent boy whose hair defied gravity hung upside down from the broken chandelier. Grinning, he fell to the ground, managing to stop midair and right himself up before hovering over to Killua. “Nice to meet you! My name’s Gon!” Not getting an immediate reply, he asked, “Is something wrong?” Staring dumbly, Killua replied,

   “You’re a ghost.”

   “And?”

   “Ghosts don’t exist.”

   “But I’m right in front of you, aren’t I?” Scratching the back of his head, Killua remained silent. “What’s your name?”

   “…Killua Zoldyck.” Even if he’s a ghost, he should know the name… And he did see me kill the man upstairs….

   “Nice to meet you! So, why did you kill the man upstairs?” Shocked somewhat at this boy’s stupidity, he answered plainly,

   “I’m an assassin. My whole family’s an assassin clan.” Nodding his head as if he finally understood, the ghost smiled.

   “That makes much more sense now. So, do you want to be friends with me?”

   “Didn’t you hear me?! I’m an assassin! I kill people for a living! You should be scared of me!” Blankly staring at him, the ghost passed a hand through his face.

   “And I’m dead. Whether you murder for fun or for a living doesn’t really scare me, because you can’t kill me again! Anyway, I lived with a witch practically my whole life, so I’m used to supposedly scary people.” Smiling again, he asked again, “Do you want to be my friend?” Pondering this odd question, Killua looked over Gon. Despite the scars and stitches running over his limbs, ragged, loose shorts and a bloodied t-shirt, he wasn’t a very scary ghost with those friendly eyes and a wide smile. He had asked first if he wanted to be friends, even after finding out what Killua was capable of. He wasn’t pressured into it or anything weird, this dead boy wanted to hang out with him. This kind ghost (who died presumably due to the stitches keeping his head attached) wished to have a friend.

   I’m an assassin. I belong with the dead.

   Decided he left the gho— Gon hanging (or floating) long enough, he smiled back.

   “Sure!”

oH MY GOD I LOVED THIS

SO MUCH