Apocalypse Reset: My Crab Can Heal the World! - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: The Ghosts of Haima’s Past
Barns’ head whips around, and he’s nearly scared out of his skin – and yet the ethereal figure behind him saps all desire he has to scream.

The faint, wispy outline of an older gentleman is directly behind him, sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace.

‘That chair wasn’t there before,’ Barns thinks.

He rises to his feet, knees quaking.

“Sit down,” Haima says. “Let me introduce you.”

Barns returns to the couch. He keeps his eyes away from the ghost, looking at its feet. Staring directly into the haunting form is too much for him.

“Gramps, this is Barnacles. He’s the one who turned me back into a human,” she says, grinning.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Barns says, his eyes still fixed on the floor.

‘Am I really talking to a GHOST right now!?’ The thought bounces around Barns’ brain. It was a lot, even for him.

There’s no reply from the ghost, at least not verbally. All he hears is a loud thud.

“Gramps is smiling,” Haima says, delighted.

“Is Gramps a soul without a body?” Barns asks.

“Well, yes. That’s about what a ghost is.”

“Is his body still around, somewhere? I mean…could he be resurrected?”

Haima chuckles. “Buried behind the house, I suppose. But he and everyone else here have been dead for decades. I think their bodies are a little too far gone.”

Barns looks up, daring to meet the ghost’s gaze. Spectral blue eyes watch him with curious intent. As he meets Gramps’ gaze, his lingering unease begins to dissipate. Gramps didn’t look scary at all – he was a friendly ghost.

“Hi, Gramps,” Barns says slowly. “Thanks for looking after Haima.”

The ghost says nothing, but gives Barns a reassuring nod.

Barns and Haima share a quick moment, but she quickly blushes and covers her face.

‘It’s kind of like I’m meeting her family, weird as this is,’ Barns thinks. As he tilts his head back toward Gramps, he sees other figures in the dark that he can’t quite make out. Two shadowed forms, standing in the next room over. A small figure, lurking behind Gramps’ chair. Seems like they all came out to meet him.

“Thanks for not stealing my seat, Barnacles.”

The voice causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand. It comes from right next to him, and though he can’t see anything, there is a slight depression on the couch seat as if someone were sitting right between him and Haima.

“I was wondering if you’d come, Olive,” Haima claps her hands together excitedly.

“Olive is the only one who can talk, but she’s fully invisible,” Haima explains. “But she can talk for the whole family!”

As tense as he was earlier (especially after Haima’s prank), Barns is finding himself to be relaxed and at ease. There is something comforting about the myriad presences around him, and the fear of the unknown is replaced with genuine curiosity.

“You’re welcome, Olive,” he says, growing comfortable. “And thanks to all of you, I suppose. I feel quite welcome.”

More silence. Barns peers around the room. The other figures, though still hard to discern, seem a bit clearer.

“I’m not sure what to say,” he murmurs quietly to Haima.

“You don’t need to say anything.”

Haima speaks slowly, as if she is fading into a dream. “They’re perceptive. Think of kind thoughts. Your energy will reach them far greater than any words.”

Barns focuses on a calm headspace and lets the awkwardness of the situation die down within him. His mind drifts between thoughts freely, and he’s surprised as vignettes appear in his mind.

He sees a woman doing laundry, laughing with her children. He sees Gramps reading a story to the family by the fire. Each scene is painted in vivid, warm colors, seeping with nostalgia for a world long passed.

He returns the favor – he shows the family pieces of his life. The fateful day when he sacrificed himself and was reborn as Barnacles. Relaxing days on Scuttle Island, soaking up the warmth of the sun – a place untouched by the horrors wrought by the apocalypse.

He closes his eyes, and he thinks of Haima, too. He wants the ghost family to know that he’s taken a genuine liking to her.

He explores more and more of his thoughts, sharing whatever he can – and in turn, he sees clips of the family’s former lives. Not all of these thirteen knew each other in life – but in death, they have bonded and become a true family.

After some time, Barns re-opens his eyes. As he looks around the room, the ghosts are all gone. It’s just him and Haima, sitting on the couch together in the dark.

“They had a lovely time,” Haima smiles. “I think you may have fallen asleep for a bit there.”

“What? No way,” Barns says.

“How long do you think it’s been since we sat here?”

“I dunno…ten or fifteen minutes?”

Haima chuckles. “Three hours, almost.”

“WHAT!?”

“They had to go,” Haima tells him. “3AM is the Witching Hour. Nice ghosts like this go into hiding. The Witching Hour is when less generous spirits come out.”

Barns rises from the couch, oddly refreshed. Maybe he did sleep for a while.

“They said you’re welcome to visit any time, with or without me,” Haima grins. “They must have really liked you.”

Barns scratches the back of his head. “I like them too…I think.”

They exit the mansion, heading back into the dark night. As they begin their walk, Barns turns to look at the crumbling home one more time.

It no longer looks scary to him – but perhaps a little sad. Images of what this place once was had embedded themselves in his mind. At least now he can see this place for what it was, rather than what it has become.

“You should spend the night,” Haima says quietly as they walk through the silent forest. “I have a spare bedroom, after all.”

“Exiled to the spare bedroom?” Barns pouts as Haima punches his stomach playfully.

“If I meant otherwise, I’d have said so,” she smirks. “Such a dirty mind you have. I hope you didn’t think any of those thoughts when Gramps was around!”

“N-not at all!” Barns says quickly. “Sorry. The romantic side of romance is foreign territory here, give me a break.”

“Well, the sexual side of things is foreign to me,” Haima coughs, embarrassed by her own words. “I’ve…always been a little afraid.”

“Clearly you’re not from Dimartino, then,” Barns laughs.

A wistful smile is pervasive on Haima’s red lips. “My Secret Arts have taught me much about my own body. I can control even my own heartbeat. I think having an…’outside influence’ would completely throw me off. The thought is horrifying, honestly.”

The girl he likes and has been on two dates with just described his ‘outside influence’ as horrifying. Not exactly the response he was looking for.

“But you went far out of your comfort zone for me tonight,” Haima adds. “I won’t forget it.”