The Horror of Green Pines House

I Newcomer

It was midday on a Sunday, and Johnathan Urbez was driving his dream car, an RX7. The engine was modified to be even faster; the tuned machine used a racing transmission, special brakes, suspension, and tires. The body was covered in all kinds of paintings and designs. After five years of hard work, dedication, and a lot of money, this beast was ready and John had to take it out for a ride.

The engine was roaring, and the feeling of going over two hundred kilometers per hour was exhilarating. The tension on his arms from handling the wheel, his brain-aware state—this must be what a professional race driver feels; then the curb came, he misjudged his skills and the brakes didn’t work as they should. The car got out of the road, took off and flew for six meters in the air, crashing into a centenary old oak tree. The engine passed through the cabin, twisted around and crushed his chest; he didn’t even feel the pain. Then a blinding light shone above him, it was beautiful. Suddenly, an incredible force pulled him at high speed. He passed through the car structure and kept flying for about 10 seconds, passed through a building door, fell to the floor, and stood there looking at the lamp on the ceiling.

Slowly, the shock came to pass, and the realization hit him. He had a car accident; the engine went through his chest. He should be dead. John was about to go into panic mode when a woman dressed in a blue uniform guiding a wheelchair passed through him. It was a rather psychologically unpleasant experience, but not physically damaging.

“We have a newcomer.” A feminine voice yelled.

A fat man in his fifties with green eyes, a beard, a greasy shirt, and a Barcelona Football Team cap tended his hand to John to help him get up and said:

“Welcome to the green pine nursing home for the elderly; you are dead and trapped in here like the rest of us.”

“Oh, come on, Ramon, let him recover at least,” said the female voice.

Actually, the people talking to him made him doubt he was dead. John took the fat man’s hand, but there was no feeling of touch; if he weren’t looking at him, he would have never realized they were in contact. John got up and looked at the female voice. She was a black woman with short, curly hair, brown eyes, a friendly face, and a sweet voice.

“Hello, handsome, I am Shana; what’s your name?”

“I’m Jonathan, I think… I just had an accident; the car flew into a tree. I saw the engine hit my chest. Johnathan looked down; his chest was fine; there was no blood or anything.”

“Oh dear, sorry, but you are dead; you died and… well, you are a ghost.” Shana explained.

“Just like I told you,” Ramon chimed in.

“But I feel fine; I don’t feel anything strange,” Johnathan retorted.

“Yes, I know. Come here and try to touch this chair.” Shana’s hand went through the chair like it was not real. Johnathan tried, and the same happened to him. He was unable to touch anything except the walls. When he tried, there was no feeling of touch, but his hand could not pass through it.

“Walls are an exception, and thanks to God for that,” said Ramon.

“So, this is hell, heaven, or purgatory?” Asked Johnathan, he seemed to accept his dead status easier than expected. But Shana knew it was not true; she had been dead for almost a year now.

At the beginning, most people were not amused; death seemed just like life. After a while, however, it downed on them, especially those trapped in this nursing home. The space was limited; there was no need for sleep, food, use of toilets, changes of clothes, or bodily functions of any kind. They could touch someone, but there was no feeling to it. After a while, death was really boring and exhausting. The television or the radio helped, but still, after a while, even that was boring.

“Come, I will show you around, Johnathan”

“Please, just call me John.”

“Ok, then John, follow me.” Shana turned around and just walked through a nurse that was coming towards them; John avoided her out of reflex.

“This is the most important part of the building; the entertainment room, not because of the games for old people, but because of the television, is our only form of entertainment beside workers gossip.” Shana explained.

“Why don’t you guys just leave?” asked John.

“We can’t; try it yourself.”

John turned around and walked to the main door, but of course he could not open it; he could not turn the handle; it was locked with a key anyway; some of the patients at the home had dementia; they might wander out and get lost if the door was open. John changed his approach, went to a window that was partially open, tried to put his hand out, but couldn’t; it was like if the air outside was solid stone.

“See, even if the door is wide open, you can’t leave. We all tried. Come.” Shana tried to nudge him down the main hallway. It was weird; her touch had no feeling to it, and her pull seemed to be dulled out and weak.

“There are thirty rooms in total, all of them along the main hallway; each room has its own bathroom and a closet. To the right, there is a secondary hallway that leads to the nurse station and personnel bathroom, and then there is the storage room. Under it is the machinery room, boiler, and other equipment. And that’s it. This is home.” Shana said, opening her arms.

“I see, so how long are we going to be here?” john asked.

“As far as I know, forever if we are lucky,” Ramon answered from behind. A few meters away, the nurses and nurse assistants were chit-chatting.

“If we are lucky?” It made no sense to John; all of this was hard to accept and believe. Even though he had just seen his chest crushed by the engine of his car, he didn’t feel like he was dead. This felt more like a dream.

“There are some rules, does and don’ts to survive here,” said Shana.

“Survive? Are we not already dead?” John was losing his patience.

“There are things worse than death, kid.” An old man. White skin, over eighty, bald, no teeth, and one bad eye, jumped into the conversation.

“John, this is Professor Martin. He was a physicist back in his day, was one of the residents here, and died just a few years ago,” introduced Shana.

“This is the weirdest dream I ever had,” John let out, tired of all of it.

“But it is not a dream; I know what you are going through; we all did. For the moment, just humor us, and I will keep introducing you to the rest of the guys and teaching you the ropes.” Shana walked ahead and signaled John to follow; she didn’t avoid the nurses or the old people walking around; she just passed through them.

John got close to one of the residents, who was a small, petite, skinny old lady. She had a hunchback, white hair, and walked really slowly using a cane. He stood in front of her, but she still kept walking and phased through him. John went back in front of her and waved his hand in front of her eyes. The old lady’s face just passed through his hand.

Shana, Martin, Ramon, and a few others were just there watching him try, like they did back in the day. When he was already sure that no one of the patients could see him, he walked to Shana.

“How do you know who is dead and who isn’t?” He said the word dead with a tone of doubt.

“You just have to desire it; if you want to see the dead people apart from the alive ones, you just try to. Some people see them as transparent beings; others see a shine around them; and some others see no colors on them, like a black and white movie. It is just that you still don’t accept the fact that you are dead.” Take your pick.

It didn’t make much sense to John, but still, he tried to imagine that the dead people were different; he settled for the black and white theme, no colors for the dead. Like if some switch clicked in his mind, half of the people around him turned into monochromatic characters. The hard part was when he looked at himself and saw his own skin in a gray tone. That was too much. John started feeling bad and hyperventilating; however, it didn’t go beyond that.

“You are dead. You don’t need oxygen, there is no CO2, there is no heart rate, you are dead, and there is no need or way to have a panic attack. Your breathing is not necessary. Hold your breath and see.” Martin explained.

John did as instructed. He held his breath and watched the clock. Five minutes passed, ten minutes, and that desperation for air that forces you to breathe never came. After that, John started to breathe without thinking; he was just used to it. He still had some doubts and still refused to accept it totally, but slowly John was starting to believe the fact that he was dead.

II Survival guide

Johnathan tried to follow Shana’s game; however, she was pushing him to meet people too fast; he didn’t like that. He had been supposedly dead since a few hours ago and didn’t even have the time to digest it; instead, for some reason, he was forced into an accelerated public relations tour.

Shana didn’t seem to care about John’s obvious discomfort and kept her tour going. “Right now we only have twenty patients in the home; most of them are really old, thankfully.” That was a weird comment, but John did think about it. “As you just learned, you can pass through people and objects, but not walls, and you also cannot pass through doors, which means if you get into a room and it gets locked, you will be trapped. Don’t worry; some times that is good.”

“Why is being trapped good?” John asked. There were a lot of insinuations in Shana’s explanations.

“Because sometimes something horrible comes around and you have to know how to be safe; getting locked up means you are safe,” answered Shana.

They kept walking until the end of the hallway. John was starting to be annoyed by all this scaremongering. He was about to give Shana a piece of his mind, but was lost for words when he saw into the room Shana guided him to. The room was occupied by an old man sitting on a sofa; his facial expression was absent, his sight lost into nothingness. He was a black man with a fairly intact hairline, but all white, matched by a white beard of a few weeks. By this old man’s side stood a ghost girl. She was young when she died—maybe eighteen, not too tall, maybe one meter sixty-five. Since John saw the dead as black and white, her skin looked as white as milk, signaling that she was a white woman. Her eyes were as white as pearls, and she had pitch black, straight, long hair that went down her shoulder to waist length. Her straight, perfectly sized nose, her perfect eyebrows, and her full lips made her a beauty in her own category; even with John’s ghost vision, she was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The girl looked at John with a disgusted face; she knew that look he was giving her—a mix of awe and lust. Not even in death, men stopped being men. Her beauty was her curse. A curse so strong that it caused her death before time.

“She is Elizabeth, one of the oldest survivors in here; be respectful to her; she might be the reason you survive long enough to see a way out of this.”

Judging by her expression, John wasn’t in good grace with Elizabeth. Trying not to look into her beautiful face anymore, John forced himself to look at the old man, and then he realized that Elizabeth’s index finger was touching the old man’s hand.

“She is touching him?” John asked, surprised.

“Not really,” answered Shana. “She is making some contact with him, but it is complicated. I will explain to you later, lets go.”

Shana tried to move John away from Elizabeth’s contemptuous gaze; they moved to the next room. There was an old woman in there; she was moving her hands like she was weaving something while talking to herself; the signs of dementia were obvious; her white hair had been cut short; she was wearing a white gown with a flowery design; sometimes her mumbling made her dentures fall out of place, and she had to accommodate them with her hand. By the side of the old lady was a man, probably in his late forties. He was sitting on the floor with his face between his legs while his right-hand index finger was touching the old lady.

“Hello Willy” Greeted Shana.

The man lifted his head up and looked at them. His face looked like he was about to cry from sadness and was suffering from constipation at the same time; he was skinny, like he died of hunger; his eyes were deep into his orbits; his nose was long and pointy; there was a really scarce mustache on his upper lip; and his hair was black and messy, and he was fully dressed in a black robe.

“Hi, Shana” Willy’s voice sounded like what you would expect from his face, like the voice of a kid who was crying a few minutes ago.

“Willy, this is the new guy, Johnathan, and Johnathan, this is crying Willy, the oldest survivor here; by our calculations, he has been trapped here for forty years at least.”

Willy lifted his left hand and waved at John, giving him a creepy sensation. If he weren’t dead, he would probably have goosebumps.

“You keep talking about danger, survival and does and don’ts. Get to the point; I’m getting tired of this,” John recriminated.

“Fair enough,” agreed Shana. “You saw that I don’t avoid passing through the living; it is not because I am rude; there is a reason for it. When one of us interacts in some way with the living, we seem to absorb something from them. It is just for a second, just for the moment that our skin perfectly aligns with theirs. Now, try to put your hand through the woman Willy is touching.”

John tried, but he could not do it. The woman felt like the wall; there was no feeling of touch, but there was also no pressure or strength behind his pushing.

“I cant phase through her, but I can’t touch her either,” John said, confused.

“Professor Martin said you can’t phase through because her energy has been claimed by Willy, you can’t push or interact with nothing because you don’t have enough mass; you don’t have a physical body; he says that ghosts are like residual energy from the living that is so weak we can’t influence the physical world. I don’t know where he got all that, but at least he got some explanation.” Shana looked at the walls.

“The funny thing is this only happens here; as far as we know, not everyone turns into a ghost, but people that do are usually bound to a place or something related to them in life. Ramon is a good example, he was a truck driver; died in his truck, and the truck got sold out shortly after his death. His soul was bound to his truck and he traveled with it for years across Europe.”

“That’s right,” Ramon interrupted Shana. He had been close around since the beginning. “I learned many things while traveling; there were other ghosts all around the world, not too many, but enough to find one now and then. Out of this place, with time, ghosts stop being bound to the world and vanish into nothingness, but here we don’t. We keep existing until we mutate or get eaten by the Munchers.”

“Munchers?” Asked John.

“When a ghost spends too much time here, it mutates into… some kind of ghostly monster; after a while, they start eating other ghosts and deform even further; we call them Munchers; unfortunately, you will see them sooner or later.” Answered Shana.

“Then…” John looked at Willy.

“If you interact with the living, they keep you stable; the older the person, the better.” Shana explained again.

“The professor said that it is because old people are closer to the dead than the living, so it is easier for us to interact with them and steal a little bit of that energy thing he talks about” Ramon added.

“Now try to touch Willy.”

John did as instructed, and his hand went through Willy.

“You see? Some of the same rules apply to the Munchers, they can’t eat you if you are taking energy from a living person. That is one way to survive their attacks; the other way is to be locked in some room. Like us, they can’t pass through the walls and doors. But be careful, if one of the workers opens the door during the attack, the munchers will get in and eat you.” Shana’s words and explanations were making John more doubtful and confused; all of this seemed like the plot of a bad horror movie.

“So, let me get this straight: I’m dead, trapped in a nursing home full of ghosts that try to survive the attacks of other mutant ghosts by touching on the living, and I’m going to be trapped here forever.”

“Pretty much, yes.” Said Ramon.

John looked around a bit incredulous, looked at Shana and Ramon; they were there, waiting for him to react. Then he looked at the old woman; she was still waving her invisible thread and mumbling. Willy stopped paying attention to them and went back to having his head between his legs while sitting on the floor; however, he never stopped touching the old lady. After a few seconds of silence, John started walking. He wanted to be alone for a moment.

“One more thing.” Shana stopped him. “The Munchers come out at night. We don’t know where they hide during the day, but they don’t like light, natural or artificial. It doesn’t kill them or hurt them for as long as we know; they just don’t like it. One of them got trapped in a room once and stood there for almost two days, making horribly loud noises. When a nurse opened the door, that thing just crawled out and disappeared into that wall.” Shana pointed at the wall at the end of the hallway that turned to the right. “If the lights start to flick and you hear weird noises from the walls after ten o’clock, that might be bad. If the Munchers come and you still don’t know how to attach yourself to the living, try to get locked in somewhere. Your best choice is to go to Elizabeth’s room and pray she lets you in. She can make the people she is attached to move and close the doors.”

Johnathan went away. He walked by the hallway and looked around. There were a few ghosts and old people moving around. Most of the ghosts looked bored and just stood there; they didn’t even paid much attention to John. The living kept on with their lives, oblivious to everything happening around them.

John stood at the entrance of the Green Pines nursing home, looking out. The sun was hiding on the horizon, and the darkness of the night was starting to reduce the outside visibility. John tried once more to open the door; he couldn’t touch the handle. Sooner or later, he had to accept that he was dead. This was his new reality.

III Be afraid of the dark

After a few hours of watching the outside darkness, John finally grew tired of it. There was nothing happening there. However, when he turned around, things were different; the building was the same, and the living were doing their things. However, the ghosts seemed distressed. Now that John paid attention, the lights seemed to be flickering. Every now and then, the light reduced a bit in intensity and then went back to normal.

“What’s going on?” asked John to Ramon.

“We just told you a few hours ago that when the lights go bad, things get horrible,” answered Ramon while looking at the lights.

“So, the munchers are coming tonight?” Asked John.

“Not necessarily; sometimes they don’t come; it is not a certainty until the lights go dark. Sometimes the lights flicker and the walls rumble, but they don’t come. We will see what happens tonight.”

Ramon left John’s side and went to one of the rooms. Meanwhile, a small crowd was forming around Elizabeth’s room. A lot of the ghosts have moved closer to that location. John moved closer to Martin.

“So, everyone goes to Elizabeth for safety?”

“Mostly, yes.” However, it is not one hundred percent safe. Once a nurse opened the door, there were fifteen people taking refuge there, and the Munchers went in. It was carnage. Elizabeth stood there and watched them be eaten and chewed on; she wasn’t able to help. The Munchers could not hurt her since she has almost perfect control over her energy-stealing ability. After they finished their meal, they left.” Explained the professor.

“Why does no one go to Willy?” John asked. It seemed weird that no one went to the oldest of all ghosts.

“Willy is a coward. He would never try to move his host; there is a risk of losing contact with her and falling into the mouths of the Munchers. He won’t try to close the door; old people have bad sight, and the munchers come out in the dark. Influencing an old person to move in that situation is dangerous. Elizabeth is taking a risk every time she does it.”

As the hours came to pass, after ten o’clock, the walls started to rumble. The sound was similar to an old pipe line when the water was cut, and now it started to fill up again. As soon as the noise started, the ghost in the house looked even more scared than before.

One old woman sat on the floor and started crying; there were no tears, just her constant wailing.

“Not again, not again; I just want to disappear; I didn’t do anything so horrible in my life; why is God punishing me?”

Some others started praying.

John wasn’t a firm believer, but being dead and a ghost trapped in a nursing home made him reevaluate his beliefs about the afterlife.

John saw that the workers and the residents in the nursing home didn’t seem to realize about the lights flickering and the rumbling walls.

“Don’t they see the lights flicking or hear the noise from the walls?”

“No, they don’t.” Answered the professor. “When I was alive two years ago, I didn’t see it either. The only thing that we had was small energy cuts every once and then. Usually one of the workers goes down the machinery room and flips the breakers or replaces a fuse; they have no idea that while they are doing that, a bunch of monsters are massacring the other residents of the home. The flickering we see is the electrical system about to fail, but the sight of the living is a bit different from ours. They just don’t know.”

“Oh, don’t the old people you guys leach energy from feel it? I mean, someone must have noticed something—cold spots, sulfur smell, chills. Anything?”

“Nah, that is just movie stuff; the only thing they might feel is some kind of weight on their shoulders, like they are carrying something. Nothing else. I know. Crying Willy leached from me for years before I died.” After that, the professor went away.

The lights kept flickering in the same pattern, but the rumbles in the walls intensified. Even John was starting to get scared; he had come to partially accept the situation; he was dead. That was pretty clear, but everything else was just too weird to just roll with it. However, if things got really bad, he didn’t know how to survive, so he made his way to Elizabeth’s room. On his way, he saw Sasha and Ramon; they were in different rooms with one old person each. They were not the only ones. The professor, Martin, also moved to one of the rooms. John saw a few others that also moved to the rooms, but he didn’t know them yet.

When he made it to Elizabeth’s, she looked straight at him; her face was not happy, but her gaze was less contemptuous. John waited for a moment; he didn’t know how to talk to this stunning, beautiful woman without making things worse. He was never good with women, and dying wasn’t going to magically change that. Lucky for him, Elizabeth was a forgiving person; she just gave him a nod.

“You can come in,” she finally said.

There were ten other ghosts in the room with her, and all of them were standing there silently. The room had a dim light coming from the bathroom, dark enough to sleep but clear enough to see things in an appropriate way in case the resident wanted to go to the toilet in the middle of the night or something like that. The old man Elizabeth was leeching energy from was lying on the bed; he was still awake and looking at the ceiling in silence. His face was as expressionless as the first time he saw him earlier in the day.

“Sorry about…” John started talking, but was interrupted.

“Nope, I don’t care; I don’t want to know; just be quiet; don’t say anything.” Elizabeth said, cutting John short.

Standing in a room with eleven ghosts, an old man with dementia, and silence turned out to be quite boring after half an hour. There was nothing to do, and after her display of bad attitude, Elizabeth didn’t look as mesmerizing as before. Sure,  she was a beauty, but she was also a jerk. John thought many times about leaving the awkward situation and venturing out of the room.

“If you leave and the Munchers come, the door will be closed; I won’t open it up for you.” Elizabeth warned; she knew what John was thinking. It had happened many times before. In her experience, men could not be quiet; they always had to be doing something or trying to fix something. At least he was not an obnoxious teenager who never shuts up and thinks they know everything; those never lasted long in the home.

John stood there in silence with the others all night. As soon as the rays of the sun started illuminating the nursing home, everyone thanked Elizabeth and left her room. In the end, nothing happened that night. John was a bit disappointed. Everyone sold him the idea that something horrible was about to happen. However, all that happened was a lot of flickering lights and noises coming from the walls. It was still a very dangerous night; he could have died of boredom.

John didn’t even bother to say good-bye or give his thanks to Elizabeth; he was beginning to doubt all the eating ghost monster stuff again. Maybe it was just a joke they prepared to entertain themselves at the expense of the newcomers. After leaving the room, he went straight to the main door. The personnel had to be changed at some point, and that was his moment to escape. Around seven thirty, the fresh batch of workers came in. They opened the door, and John rushed out to crash painlessly against an invisible wall.

“Why do we even bet? We already know what’s going to happen, and we don’t even have or use any money.” Asked Ramon.

“Don’t ask me; you are the one insisting that some of the newbies will believe us and won’t try to charge the door as soon as it opens.” answered Martin.

They watched John try again every time the door opened; he did everything every stubborn newcomer usually does: charge at the open door, try to slide slowly, and time his passing with a living person that was doing out. They didn’t blame him; most of them tried all that at some point, and some even did irrational things, like trying to pass through the door upside down and walking with their hands. Still, it was kind of funny watching other people do it. There was not much entertainment around this time; the television in the relaxing room was still off.

John saw all the ghosts staring at him from the hallway. For a moment, he felt stupid, but he still wasn’t resigned to staying trapped for the rest of his death. He had to try a way to get out of this place, so he kept trying.

IV Five minutes of fame

After multiple failed escape attempts and after people stopped passing through the door, John finally gave up. It was around nine o’clock in the morning. The patients in the nursing home were already showered, dressed, and had their breakfast. The personnel took most of them to the entertainment room; the older patients were taken out of the nursing home for some sunlight; the younger ones preferred to watch the morning news. The ghosts were all together watching television; the news were the usual. The economy was bad, oil went up, there was some war somewhere, something weird happened in Asia, and Europe approved a new regulation in something no one really cares about.

However, in the local news, things hit a little bit closer to home.

“Hey John, you are on television.” Yelled Ramon.

John made it on time to see most of the news segment. There was a picture of him in the corner of the screen, and a video was playing.

“The police said that the tuned-up car lost control and went out of the road, crashing into a tree. The only passenger identified as twenty-five-year-old Johnathan Urbez died on the spot, crushed by the car’s engine. Our most sincere condolences to the family affected by this tragic accident.” The news anchor reported. “In other news, the local authorities…”

John stopped paying attention to the news. He was dead for sure. From the images he just saw, he recognized his car. The firefighters were pulling the machine, which got stuck on the tree. Watching it in the news added a new level of certainty; it made it even more real. Ramon realized John’s situation, came close to him, and by reflex, put a hand on his shoulder. John didn’t feel anything, but still, the gesture was kind.

“That is how it is.” Said Ramon.

“Yeah, I know. Still, it’s weird to see news about your own death.”

John started thinking about his parents, his brother Samuel, and then about his ex-girlfriend.

“You know, I had a girlfriend; she told me I was obsessed with that car; she forced me to choose between her and the vehicle… I guess I made the wrong choice.” He said to Ramon.

“Normally, choosing the car would be the right call; not in this case, though.” Ramon answered; he knew what was coming. John would spend the next few days thinking about the past and mulling over his choices in life, but that wouldn’t last for long. After all, he still existed, and soon he would start to think of this state as a new way of life and would try to improve upon it and adapt it to the life he used to live. Then, like all the ghosts did before him, he will start his hunt for answers. Why are we trapped here? How can we get out? He will start looking everywhere for answers to this and many other questions. Ramon went away and let John be with his toughs.

Just like Ramon predicted, a few days later, John started asking questions, trying to touch and listen to the walls. It was a Friday, John already had five days of existence as a ghost. The day was uneventful; besides an uncomfortable situation with Elizabeth, he still had her words in his mind.

“Kid, I have been here for a long time; before that, I was already a ghost, almost about to disappear. Then I got trapped here. I have seen many of your kind: looking for answers for a few days, then getting tired and forgetting about it. They become the laziest and most pessimistic guys ever. You are dead. Your life is over. Get over it and learn how to survive on your own; now leave me alone and get out of my room.”

John had many things in mind that he wanted to yell at this presumptuous little girl, but she was one of the most respected and appreciated members of this ghostly community. He had a hard time getting some information from some ghosts because of his bad relationship with Elizabeth. John just got schooled by a teenager and kicked out of a room that wasn’t even hers; it was the old men’s room. She was just a parasite, but he had to shut up.

When the night came, things changed, like it happened on the first day of his arrival: after ten o’clock, the lights started to flicker, and the rumblings on the walls started sooner this time, and with higher intensity than the previous occasion.

However, contrary to the first time, John didn’t go for shelter in Elizabeth’s room like most did; he stayed in the main hall, looking at the lights and trying to feel the walls. Ramon and others wanted to warn him that it was useless, but they knew he wouldn’t listen, like they didn’t listen back in the day.

“This kid won’t survive for long.” Said Ramon.

“We did, and we were no different from him.” Retorted Martin.

“Yeah, we survived, but we didn’t have a bone to pick with Elizabeth.” After Ramon’s commentary, Shana and Martin just made an ugly face; the three of them coincided; John was fucked.

John walked to the limit of the hallway; the rumbling noise was stronger there, and sometimes he would swear he heard screams coming from the walls. He didn’t even try to hide it; he was scared, but he convinced himself that there was an answer and an explanation to all of this. He just had to keep looking. John went down to the machine room; the room was locked. However, he could pass through the iron bars door without a problem. He examined the boiler, even passing his head, and looked into the water tank. The water pipes were normal, and the noises didn’t come from there. He examined the breakers; there didn’t seem to be a problem there either. He didn’t find any problems down in the machinery room, but when he went back, people were paying attention to the main hall.

The woman who was always complaining about how this was God’s punishment and prying was screaming in the hallway; that was not weird in general; the problem was that her voice sounded coarse and deeper than usual, and she was stuttering.

Shana and Martin were close by, trying to talk to her. John knew a bit about the woman; her name was Sofia; she had just been a ghost for six months; she used to be a patient in the nursing home; she didn’t remember that part of her life clearly because she had dementia. As soon as she died and turned into a ghost, her dementia was gone. She was a very religious person, praying all the time while she was alive. Although she was not a good person, she was selfish and cruel to most people.

“Whats happening?” Asked John getting close to Martin.

“She is changing; it seems like she hasn’t touched a living person in a long while.” Martin answered.

“She is turning into a muncher?”

“Unfortunately, yes”

“How long does it take to change?”

“No one knows. For some a month, for some a week, I don’t know; I think there are many factors: how long you have been here, how long you have been a ghost, many things. If you want to be safe, just touch a living person every two or three days.” Explained Martin.

John got closer to Sofia; he wanted to know and see. When he was close enough, he could hear her growling and her twisted speech.

“Grrr… pray. Grrr… the Lord. Grrr… good Christian.” Sofia repeated it like a mantra.

“Yes, the Lord saves.” Said Shana. “You know what? The living need the Lord too; you are a Christian; why don’t you get there and give them a good smack in the head so they listen to you?”

“Grrr… pray. Grrr… the Lord. Grrr… good Christian.” Sofia repeated it nonstop.

John got close; he was about to touch her when Shana stopped him.

“Stop; don’t touch her; it will accelerate her mutation. I think there is still time; we can save her if we make her touch a living person; just a second is enough.” Shana yelled at John.

John didn’t listen; he touched Sofia’s shoulder. There was a strange feeling, like he was touching something disgusting; it felt like a mushy substance. Sofia turned around and fixed her sight on John’s face. John took one step back. Right in front of his eyes, Sofia’s face started melting; her lower eyelids dropped and extended to her cheeks; her eyes popped out, moving to the sides of her face. Her nose broke down from her face, and the skin peeled off, her lips hanging to her chest. What used to be her mouth deformed, her jaw and maxillary expanded, and the teeth became longer and separated between them. The tongue broke into two and grew to almost one meter long. Her body also changed; her neck grew to around half a meter. Her legs seemed to melt along with her arms and low body. Only her chest conserved some of its structure. Sofia had turned into a blob of gray-colored mass with something that looked like a chest and a long neck holding a creepy-looking, deformed face.

The face opened her mouth even wider, and a really loud scream came out. Everyone had to cover their ears; the screams were painful to hear. Almost immediately, the walls of the nursing home started screaming too. The painful screams combined, making it worse for the others.

Thirty seconds or so later, the screaming stopped, and the eyes of the monster that once was Sofia moved and looked straight at John.

“Move, get out of the way!” Screamed Shana.

Like if her words were a signal, the deformed blob grew four human legs, lifted itself up, and started running. John had already moved a few steps back out of fear and managed to avoid the incoming quadruped monstrosity. The creature tried to take a bite out of John on its dash, but John avoided the deformed mouth.

Sofia’s mutation ran through the hallway and crashed into the wall. The wall deformed and wobled like if it were made of rubber, and when it turned solid again, the monster was gone. The ones that watched the events unfold were quiet, and their faces showed a bit of sadness. One minute after Sofia was gone, the rumbling started again, increasing until it seemed that the building was breaking apart; then it stopped suddenly. Ten seconds later, the horrified, agonizing screams of a woman could be heard coming out of the walls; there were no words, just non-stop screaming.

“Why did you do that?” Asked Shana. “Didn’t I warn you? Now there are more Munchers to worry about; I hope they eat you on their next visit.”

Everyone was looking at John in a non-friendly way.

“You’re probably going to have a hard time from now on.” Said Ramon.

John didn’t listen; he went to check on the wall where the monster disappeared. The rumbling and flickering lights had stopped. Now Sofia’s screams were getting lower in intensity. Still, there was nothing wrong with the wall. He went down to the machine room again; nothing was out of the ordinary. When he came back, Martin got closer.

“Listen, kid, I was a man of science; like you, I wanted answers, but I found nothing. But unlike you, I didn’t make an enemy out of the ones surrounding me. I doubt Elizabeth is going to shelter you now, and you don’t know how to leech out of the living. To make things worse, the living that haven’t been claimed are the younger ones; they are harder to leech from. We will probably have a Muncher attack sooner than later, and you won’t survive.”

“I guess I will learn how to leech then; how hard can it be?” was John’s answer.

“You are an idiot.” Martin turned around and left.

John focused again on the wall, and after a few minutes of mulling over Martin’s words, he realized his situation. Sofia’s monstrosity attempted to eat him in her scape. What if she came back and went for him?

Learning to leech the energy of the living was his only way out, he needed a master.

V Learning

John was out of luck with his neighbors. Shana didn’t even look at him, and just left when he tried to talk to her. Elizabeth wasn’t even a choice, and that was bad; she was the best teacher, and almost everyone learned from her. His best option was Crying Willy; like him, Willy was a pariah. To his knowledge, while Elizabeth was everyone’s angel, Willy was the leper. No one liked him because of his individualistic, lonely, and egotistical decisions. On the plus side, he was the older survivor there and probably the most skilled leecher. The one rejected by others was John’s best choice.

“One man trash…” John said to himself while walking to Willy’s room.

“Hi Willy, can I come in?” Asked John from outside the old lady room Willy was leeching off from. Willy just moved his left hand in the air, like an inviting sign.

“What do you want?” Asked Willy.

“Straight to the point; I like that. Well, the thing is, I need training; I need to learn to leech from the living so I can survive.” Explained John.

“I see. What’s in it for me?”

The question left John lost; it was a miscalculation on his end. He didn’t have anything to give in exchange for Willy’s help. While John was thinking about his mistake, Willy raised his head and looked at John. If John could, he would have goosebumps. Willy’s face had a cruel, twisted, scary smile.

“You are done for; you know it, right?” Willy passed his tongue between his lips. There was no saliva or taste. But the gesture had the desired effect. John realized there were rules here; it was like a jail, and the prisoners had their own code. Elizabeth and Willy were the two unassuming kingpins.

“There will be a Muncher incursion sooner than later; when that happens, you will get eaten, and your screams will be heard all over this building until the sun rises again. Your existence will become nothing more than suffering while the Munchers ravage your pathetic soul forever.” Willy said these words while looking at John’s face with his creepy smile, then, with his left hand, made a go-away motion signal while saying “Shu, shu,” like if John were a dog.

John left Willy’s room looking into nothing; he was lost; there were a lot of people around that didn’t like him; he needed help and had nothing to bargain with.

“Ramon,” he thought.

After finding Ramon in a room, the man rejected him directly. “sorry kiddo. You just took the chance to survive off one of us. You have no idea what it is; no one of us does, but soon you will see it. You just condemned Sofia to a fate worse than death. And now you want help?”

John was about to go beg Elizabeth for mercy when Martin invited him.

“Follow me”.

With no other choice, John followed behind Martin. After going into the room of an old lady, Martin started speaking.

“I know what you are thinking; you were about to beg for help from Elizabeth. Don’t bother; she will not help you. No one will. You know, I get your point; you want answers, and you want choices. I did too—the first year at least. As a man of science, I was baffled by many things. How can we speak if we don’t breathe? I still don’t know the answer to that one. I saw Sofia before she died and became a ghost, but after she died, the woman I saw was at least ten years younger. I think that after death, we take the form of the last clear image we have of ourselves. With time, I learned a few things. Then I made many hypotheses and explanations for a few things happening here. I annoyed a lot of people by asking too many questions, but something I never did was cause someone to turn into a Muncher.”

“I didn’t.” Protested John. Meanwhile, Martin looked at him with a doubtful face. He knew John was trying to justify himself.

“She was about to turn on her own anyway. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Are you done making excuses?”

John didn’t answer; he knew Martin was right, and he had some blame for Sofia’s unfortunate change.

“Listen, kid, I can try to teach you how to leech. The problem is that everyone has their own understanding of it. To me, I think of it as the liquid surface tension theory. It helps me do it in a way I can understand. However, that method never works for others. And to be sincere, I am bad at teaching this esoteric stuff. But I can try; we will practice with this old lady. Her name is Lucia. Try at least to be respectful towards the ones you are leeching.”

The old woman was sitting in a wheelchair, oblivious to the things surrounding her.

“Try to touch her.”

John did as instructed; of course, nothing happened.

“To me, it is like trying to land a soap bubble in regular water and making it stay there without bursting. Physics, help me.” Martin lowered his stance and watched his finger and the skin of the woman. He had to have perfect control to maintain that moment in which his ghostly fingertip and the old lady’s skin fused together. Then a minuscule, almost nonexistent, vague feeling of touch proved that the leeching was a success. However, the recently deceased had such memories of how touching something feels that they couldn’t accept this new, diluted, pathetic excuse for a sensation as something real. The older a ghost was, the easier it was to learn this skill because it had been so long since they felt something. “You have to practice and try your best to feel the connection.”

“How long did it take for you to learn this?” Asked John after several failures.

“Eight months to grasp the general concept and start identifying the connection. Almost two years to do it well enough to survive on my own to the munchers.”

“I’m so dead.” Complained John again. Failing again and again.

“That’s a fact,” Martin signaled.

“Why are you helping me?” Asked John, curious.

“Because I decided to, and because, like you, I don’t trust Elizabeth or that weirdo Willy. They have been surviving here for too long. I don’t buy it. They must know something we don’t.”

“Shana told me you use your knowledge of physics to give explanations for many things happening here.”

“Yes, I do,” admitted Marting. “And I know what you want to ask: Why is this happening?” Martin got out of the room and stood there, looking at the wall at the end of the hallway.

“It is the building. That is my conclusion. Something about this building’s construction isn’t right. The idea came to me just a few months ago. I remembered that back when I was alive and my mind could still work properly, this place got a visit from some technicians; they wanted to know why we had blown fuse problems every once in a while. The technicians said that there was some weird configuration in the metal frame of the building, and sometimes it seemed to create some kind of static energy saturation. Well, those total power cuts coincide with the Munchers attacks.”

“Oh, ok, the building is the problem, but what can we do about it?”

“Kiddo, if I knew that, I would have fixed it long ago. The thing is, I don’t think this is random. I think there is something intentional here. This place has been around for more than forty years. The older ghosts in here must know something; it doesn’t make sense if they don’t.”

“Did you try getting some information out of them?” Asked John.

“I did; they don’t want to talk about it. Willy didn’t even listen to me. Elizabeth told me to not waste my time and instead practice my leeching to survive. There is something fishy here. Now keep practicing.”

John went back to his training, but there was no sign of progress. That was the reason a lot of people took refuge in Elizabeth’s room; they didn’t have the patience, the skill, or the desire to learn how to leech. It was boring and hard to grasp.

When the night came, things got scary again: the lights flickering, the noises, some suffering wailing coming from the walls—everything came with more intensity than ever before.

“This is bad. I think we are about to have an attack.” Said Martin. All other ghosts were either taking refuge with Elizabeth or those that could leach moved to their hosts. Some went for the less safe option, the pantry for the workers. It had one of those doors that closed themselves after people went in or out. The problem was that if the door got opened during an attack and the Munchers got it, there was no escape. This is where John had to take refuge; he didn’t have a choice.

While the lights were flickering and the walls were screaming, the workers chatted, oblivious to the situation of the ones surrounding them.

“Omg, that shop is great. I went there and got an awesome top for the gym; it has great quality and it was so cheap.” A girl with a bullring on her nose said.

“Yeah. I got some nice stuff there too. Let’s see how long it lasts. All shops start great, then become too expensive or start selling bad-quality stuff,” a blonde nurse said.

A guy came through the door. “Well, I think Mr. Santana is going to crook soon.”

“Well, nothing surprising there. How old was he?” Asked the bullring girl,

“One hundred and one years old,” answered the nurse.

“Wow, one hundred. I won’t make it there, and I don’t want to. That man is more like a potato than a person. That is not living.” The guy said.

“Well, that is going to be a problem. It might probably affect us.” Said the nurse.

“Us? Why?” Asked the guy.

“You see, Mr. Santana is the owner of this land and a few others. This nursing home was built on a lease from him. One of his sons is managing the business. But the land is still under the old man’s name. When he dies, the sons will probably start an inheritance war.” Explained the nurse.

“So what? Why would that affect us?” Asked the bullring girl.

“Well, this building is old; it should not be able to pass some of the regulations required. They were supposed to do an overhaul of the building ten years ago, but they never did. We passed the inspection because Mr. Santana son wrapped things up under the table. But if he loses control of this place… well, we will probably need new jobs. I’m pretty sure this place is closing down as soon as that man dies.”

The ghosts in the room were listening. Those were bad news, for sure. The personnel kept talking about many things, none of them really important. The night passed, and in the morning, the walls went silent and the lights stopped flickering. The Munchers didn’t attack this time either.

VI Double standards

Three days passed, and John kept practicing his leeching, although he made zero progress. Things have been quiet these last two days. After the previous big scare, last night was uneventful; not even the lights flickered. It was relaxing for John; however, Martin kept him on edge.

“Don’t let your guard down. The fact that we had a lot of noise one day and silence the next one doesn’t mean anything. If you get confident, you will die.” Martin warned him every day.

“I’m already dead.” Answered John mockingly.

“So, you are a comedian now? Keep practicing; it is not like you have much to do anyway.” Martin pressured.

“Oh, by the way, the other day, when I took refuge in the pantry, I heard the workers talk about some stuff.” John then explained what he found out about Mr. Santana and the situation of the land the nursing home was built on.

“Hum, that’s interesting. I did know that Santana had various business and land leases, but I had no idea about this.” Martin went deep into his thoughts.

Slowly, the day came to an end, and the night started. At ten o’clock, the lights started flickering faintly, and everyone saw it as a good sign. Even the more paranoid ones, like Martin or Willy, relaxed a bit. Around midnight, the flickering of the lights stopped. This was bound to be another uneventful night—or not. Suddenly the lights went off, and a lot of screams could be heard all around the building. John came out of the room he was practicing in, and Martin was already leeching energy from the old lady.

“Good luck,” said Martin, looking at John, who had a stupefied face.

In the hallway, three creatures moved along; they were a wobbling mass of body parts, screaming in agony while they ate one another; their faces were distorted in a clear sign of pain; they grew new arms and even a thorax; they tried to lift themselves up, like attempting to scape the monstrous creature, only to be eaten by other faces and pushed down again; then the one that had eaten the most would grow parts and try to scape to be ganged on by the others. However, the worst part was the crying. It sounded like the high-pitched screams of a baby that was hurt.

As soon as the Munchers got themselves another ghost as a target, they stopped trying to scape and eat each other and focused on their victims.

“Don’t stand there like an idiot; move; get to somewhere safe.” Yelled Martin.

John started thinking fast. The Munchers were slow; they moved like slugs by wobbling and contorting. Escaping didn’t seem so difficult; however, things were never easy here, so he had his doubts. His suspicions were confirmed when the wobbling mass of parts that had moved further along the hallway grew a few legs, lifted itself up, and charged at the nearest ghost. Fortunately, it was crying Willy. The Muncher tried to attack him three times before it grew tired of passing through him. The rest of the monsters were already on the attack.

John looked around; he wasn’t the only one in trouble; four more ghosts were in the hallway, and they didn’t have time to take refuge in Elizabeth’s room. The only hope was making it to the pantry; the munchers had already learned that attacking Willy, Ramon, Shana, and a few others was useless. Now John understood why their hosts were the ones closer to the wall the munchers used as a doorway. It was to buy time for the others. It would take the Munchers a few tries before they changed targets.

“Why do I always end up checking the fuse?” A male nurse assistant complied.

He opened the door of the pantry and stood there with the door open while complaining to his coworkers.

“Because you are the man, and we don’t want to do it,” the girls answered.

“What about equality?” He asked jokingly.

“No equality for fuse stuff; now go.”

While the girls were laughing, all around them a massacre ensued. The three Munchers got into the pantry room, their long tongues wrapped around their victims, their many arms holding them in place, and many faces took bite after bite from some of the unfortunate ghosts that happened to be there. The pantry room became a death trap. The ghost screamed in agony while they were eaten, and they begged for help. Meanwhile, the other ghosts that were in the room but were still free stood close to the walls and looked in horror. These ghosts were people they knew for months or even years. They saw them extend their hands, asking them for help, but all they could do was stay away from their grasp and look for a way out of the slaughter.

A few seconds later, the lights came back, and the munchers stopped attacking and started screaming in pain again. As soon as the nurses and assistants got up and opened the door, the Munchers dashed out and ran to the wall at the end of the hallway. In their way, they tried to take a bite out of any ghost in reach, and one of them succeeded once.

“Let’s check on the patients.” One nurse said.

They had the custom of checking on the patients after energy cuts, especially Mr. Bernard. He didn’t move too much because of his dementia and old age, but every time there was an energy cut, he got out of bed and closed the door. The nursing home personnel were afraid he might trip in the dark, so it was protocol to check on the patients after the occasional electrical failure.

“They should fix that fuse thing,” complained the male nurse assistant that went to solve the problem.

“Oh, they have tried so many times. There is some problem with the building’s structure, so we will just have to deal with it,” another assistant chimed in.

The living were living, and the dead were mourning once more. Of the seven that took refuge in the pantry, three survived. Two of them were fine, but the third one was on the floor screaming as one of the munchers bit him in their escape.

“Poor Sandro,” Shana said, looking at the ghost screaming and twisting in pain on the floor.

John knew him a bit from seeing him around—an unassuming thirty-year-old Latino, a natural from Brazil, died one year ago.

All the ghosts were in the hallway or looking at Sandro from the door of the rooms that had a clear view. Willy was watching from his room. His face was even more contorted than before, like his face muscles were fighting one another. Elizabeth got out of her room and walked towards Sandro.

“Stop, don’t do it,” screamed Martin. “We could learn some stuff.”

“You ain’t going to learn anything. You still have this idea that you are a genius physicist and that you are going to find the answer to everything. You won’t; you will just cause more damage,” retorted Elizabeth.

“We could try making him get in contact with the living to see if his situation improves.” Martin still wanted to stop Elizabeth.

“That won’t work; it’s been tried before; this isn’t the first time this has happened. Also, by the moment some workers pass this close to the wall to touch him, he might have already turned. I ain’t moving, Mr. Bernard, for no reason. If he starts moving around, the nurses might think his dementia has gotten worse and he is wandering; they might put him on some restriction during the night. Then I won’t be able to close the door to my room. I will be fine, but what about them?” Elizabeth signaled to the people behind her, there were a lot of ghosts that took refuge in her room.

Martin was at a loss. He looked at the other ghosts, and now that Elizabeth had made their safety the main concern, no one would support his ideas. No one wanted to risk their safety for some random experiment some old fart had in mind.

Elizabeth moved next to Sandro. Everyone moved away. Ramon and Shana made sure the hallway was clear. Those who didn’t know what was going to happen moved out of fear after seeing the others move.

Elizabeth gave Sandro a pat on the shoulder and moved away. Sandro’s body contorted in pain, then started melting and soon became a puddle of gray mucus on the floor. The mucus started reforming into two different heads, which tried to eat each other while screaming. The heads stopped their fighting and looked at the lamps on the ceiling. The screams increased, and the wobbling mass tried to move, but its movements were erratic. It created arms to try to protect itself from the light, but to no avail. Also, the heads tried to eat the same arms they had created. After a few seconds, like if it had remembered something, the blob of mucus grew legs and dashed straight for the wall, crashed into it, and disappeared. And just like that, Sandro was gone, and the screaming from the walls started.

“We could have tried something,” protested Martin.

“Don’t waste my time,” retorted Elizabeth.

“We are dead; time is all we have.”

“Everything ends; nothing is forever, not even ghosts. You fool.” Said Elizabet, walking to her room.

Martin hated Elizabeth’s cockiness, but there was nothing he could do. She held a lot of power with the majority. It didn’t really matter. It was not like they could harm each other; there was no physical enforcement of any rule. But when you are dead, the interaction with others is one of the few things that keeps you sane. No one wanted to be despised by the people they were going to be around pretty much forever.

“Explain to me what happened here,” inquired John from Martin.

“If you get bitten, you will turn sooner or later. Supposedly, there is no way to stop it. Remember when Sofia turned and she tried to bite you in her scape?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, the ones bitten have a small window in which they have some tolerance to light and are almost fully transformed into munchers. They become very hungry and attack anything around them. It can be really dangerous. That could have been you.”

“Anyway, what is up with the double standard? I touch Sofia; she turns, and I’m hated by everyone. However, Elizabeth does the same, and everyone is cool with it.”

“Thats how things work, kiddo. In life and death, it’s all about politics.”

“Wonderful. Death is like life, but shittier.”

“Get to practice; we don’t know when the next attack will be.”

Martin was again in deep thought while he looked at the wall at the end of the hallway.

VII Bad Attitude

It was Wednesday morning, and John was suffering from the usual stress of constant failure. There was still no sign of progress in his leeching skills. Meanwhile, most of the ghosts were in the entertainment room watching television with the interns of the center.

“I bet we’re going to have newcomers soon; the main highway is closed; they made a detour by the national road close to us. As soon as someone crashes and dies, the building will suck them in,” said Ramon after watching the news.

And Ramon was right; that same afternoon, three new ghosts came in; the first one was a kid.

“Oh fuck. A kid, thats bad.” Complained Martin,

“Why?” Asked John, Maybe a week earlier, he would have said something like, “It is just a kid.” However, these past few days, he has learned to think from another perspective.

“The building feels attracted to young souls; I guess it is like meat; they are more tender, I suppose.”

“So, let me guess we’re going to have more attacks, right?” John asked for confirmation. More attacks mean a lot of extra risks for him. It was bad indeed.

“Yes.” Martin didn’t give much explanation; he knew what was going to happen. He saw it once.

Like always, Shana made the introductions; she was the welcome party. But this time, she took the kid to Willy’s room. There, she talked to him.

His name was Andres. He was just eleven years old. That day, he felt sick and was on his way to the hospital. He had a congenital heart problem, so this kind of situation was common. But he didn’t make it this time; he was having problems breathing when the ambulance took him. At some point, he fell asleep and woke up on the floor of the nursing home.

“Don’t worry, everything will be fine. Just wait here for a moment. Uncle Willy will keep you company.” Shana left the room and went to Elizabeth’s. There, she joined Ramon and Elizabeth.

“We can’t keep him, you know it.” Said Elizabeth.

“I know, but still…” Ramon replied.

Elizabeth just moved her head in a negative gesture.

Meanwhile, in Willy’s room, Andres looked at this guy sitting with his head between his legs. All he did was touch the old lady. Although Shana already explained it to him, accepting he was dead was a bit hard. At least he didn’t have problems breathing or moving around. He tried to touch the old lady but felt nothing. Then he tried to touch Willy; his hand passed through him, which was weird and scary. Willy lifted his head; there was that weird face; his eyes looked like he was about to cry; and his mouth was twisted in a creepy-looking grin. He looked like the bad guy from a thriller or slasher movie.

Andres got scared and escaped the room. He ran up the hallway to the exit; the door was closed, and he could not open it. He ran down the hallway, stopping at Elizabeth’s room after recognizing Shana.

“Miss Shana, that man Willy, he looks weird.” Andres complained with a face like he was about to cry.

“Yeah, Willy is a bit weird,” agreed Ramon. “Come with me; I will show you around.” They left the room.

“He is a problem, and you know it.” Said Elizabeth.

“It has to be done,” confirmed Shana, lowering her sight.

Right at this moment, two new ghosts came into the building. One of them was a cop and the other was a regular guy, but there was something amiss because as soon as they came in, they started glaring at each other. The cop went for his gun while ordering, in a loud voice, the other man to lay on the ground. But there was no gun. The other men looked at the cop with a grin on his face. Ran towards him to punch him. However, the punch had no weight, did no damage, and had no impact. The cop tried to restrain the suspect but ended up hugging him with a bear grip that had no strength. They basically died together. It was a car chase on the closed highway. The guy was high and didn’t follow the warnings on the closed street. The cops chased after him, and they got into an accident.

“Cut it off, you are both dead; welcome to Green Pine Nursing Home; you are trapped here forever,” Miguel said.

“This is a police matter; don’t interfere, sir,” said the officer.

“Jesus is always the same with these guys. You are not a cop anymore; you are dead; a ghost is over.” Miguel didn’t waste more time and moved along.

The cop and his suspect tried a few more times to engage one another, but to no avail. When they grew bored of it. They started moving around.

Shana did the usual introduction like she did with John. The cop was hard to handle; he wanted to be treated like an authority figure. He didn’t like it when the others gave him the middle finger; however, there was nothing he could do. The two newcomers did the same thing others did: trying to open the door, trying the window, interacting with the living, as usual.

Once they reluctantly accepted they were trapped, Shana explained about the munchers. It was already nighttime when she ended her explanation. Both newcomers were skeptical; like many others, they wouldn’t believe in ghosts eating ghosts until they saw it happen.

When night came, the walls rumbled, the lights flickered, and the screams came in full force. This time, munchers came. John was already in a position to get into the pantry with other ghosts as soon as the rumbling and flickering started. Miguel already warned him that the monsters would come almost guaranteed. The blackout annoyed the workers; one of them got up to check the fuse and opened the pantry door. Before it closed, all the ghosts rushed in.

On the other side, in the hallway, the newcomers stood. The kid was instructed by Shana to stay by the door. She told him that there was a chance the door would open if there was a blackout, and he was small enough to escape. It was a lie.

When the cop and the other guy saw the monstrosities pass through the walls, they found themselves in disbelief. The cop’s first reaction was to reach for his gun, but he didn’t have one. The reckless driver’s first reaction was to run. But where to? Shana told them about Elizabeth’s room and the pantry as safe spots, but they didn’t listen; now those two locations were closed. Both men looked at the kid near the door. They both had the same idea: There was a way out there. No one would think that the kid was a sacrifice. The munchers launched towards the kid in a frenzy. They didn’t pay any attention to the rooms, the other two men, or anything; they went straight for the kid. The screams of the boy resonated throughout the building; all the ghosts heard him scream while he was eaten. Ramon and Shana gripped their hands. Elizabeth showed no emotions. Willy had a creepy grin on his weird face. Most of the others were silent and acted like nothing happened.

It just lasted a few seconds, but after the munchers were done with the kid, they went for the others. The cop and the reckless driver tried to run, but they could not outpace the monsters in speed. By the moment the lights were back on, the munchers were trying to eat the ghost leeching from the living.

The munchers went back into the wall, and the screams of the kid and the two newcomers could be heard all over the walls.

Elizabeth almost never stopped leeching; the same was true for Willy; unless something important needed attention, they would stay in their room with their hosts.

Ramon and Shana went to Elizabeth’s room. The ghosts taking refuge there went out without saying a word.

“It had to be done,” said Elizabeth.

The other two knew she was right, but they still didn’t want to accept it. The fact that it was the second time they had to sacrifice a kid didn’t make it any easier.

Back at Martin’s host room.

“So, they sacrificed the kid,” commented John.

“Yup, that’s the usual procedure with kids,” confirmed Martin.

“Thats fucked up.”.

“I didn’t see you running to save him,” retorted Martin. “Now get back to training.”

John did as instructed.

“Hey, why do Willy and Elizabeth never stop leeching?. I have seen Elizabeth move away from her host once or twice, but still… and Willy, he never moves. I don’t think they need practice.”

“They are old ghosts, the older ones in here. They need a lot of energy to stay stable, and their stability time is shorter than others.”

“That doesn’t sound funny.”

“Focus on your training; at this rate, it’s going to take you forever.”

John knelt and tried to watch carefully as the tip of his finger made contact with the old lady’s skin. Like any other attempt, it was a failure. But all he could do was endure the frustration and keep trying; the fresh image of the munchers eating other ghosts was a good motivation.

VIII Veterans

Green Pine House woke up in agitation. The nurse had to call the doctor late in the night. Mr. Santana’s situation had suddenly gotten worse, and they had to transport him to the hospital. The workers of the nursing home were worried; by now, it was common knowledge that there was a lot of corruption related to the functioning of the institution.

Some were thinking about what would happen if the building was closed. For the workers, it would mean unemployment, and for the ghosts, having no lights during the night means the munchers would be free to roam unrestricted all night. Their only chance for survival was probably to get locked in some room forever, but even then, without the living to give them some energy, they might turn into munchers themselves. Others had the hope that the closure of the institution might break this jail and set them free, although there was no evidence for that.

John had this conversation with Martin while he practiced his leeching many times. It had already been a month since John had died and arrived at the nursing home. However, it felt like years. There was no need to sleep, so he didn’t have that feeling of reset that came with every new day. By now, every day was the same day; the sun set and rose again, but the ghosts never renewed their day; they were always awake.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth visited Crying Willy’s room.

“Old Santana is about to die,” said the girl.

“I know.” Answered Willy.

“What is going to happen?”

“Beats me. But as far as we know, there is a high chance this place will be closed down.” Willy raised his head this time and looked at the girl’s face.

“How much energy do you have?” She inquired.

“Enough for years or to give the munchers a good push twice, or maybe three times. How about you?”

“More or less the same, I guess,” Elizabeth calculated.

“I don’t think the building will go to waste; maybe it won’t be a nursing home anymore, but it can be rehabilitated into something else. All we have to do is survive until the new users come in. Like we did twenty years ago.”

“Do you think they suspect anything?”

“I don’t think so; maybe Martin has his doubts, but for the most part, the excuse that we are old ghosts and need a lot of energy is still enough.” Said Willy. “How is your host doing?”

“He is holding on, but every day his mind goes away a bit further. That makes him easy to control, like a puppet, but he is going to die soon. I should change my host before that; I don’t want him to die on me suddenly during a muncher visit.”

“If the worst comes to pass, what do you plan on doing with the others?” Asked Willy with that twisted, creepy grin on his face.

“They are on their own; you know we can’t make the same mistake again. When push comes to shove, people will do whatever they can to survive; it won’t be different this time. If they get enough energy to produce an interaction, we will have to spend our energy countering them. Too risky. We let them get eaten and survive for as long as possible. That is all.” Elizabeth said this while leaving the room.

Willy lowered his head into his legs and sat there, grinning.

Back in her room, Elizabeth went back to leeching from her host. She lied; she had a lot less energy than Willy; at best, she could push a muncher back twice. She didn’t trust Willy; she didn’t trust anyone. Although they were the only survivors of the massacre twenty years ago, there wasn’t much camaraderie between them.

Elizabeth started remembering the events of the past. The nursing home was temporarily closed. The residents were moved to other nursing homes for the time being, while Green Pine House went through some much-needed work and repairs.

Back in the day, there were more than a hundred ghosts in the house. Leeching energy from the living on a constant basis was the norm; they took turns, and everyone knew how to accumulate it. That way, they could offer some resistance to the munchers in an emergency situation; it was not perfect, but they could buy some time or survive until the electricity was restored. But it also means that they could try to redirect the munchers to some other ghost. After the living left the place, at night the building became munchers hunting ground; there was no one to fix the fuse, and the monsters could stay roaming all night. Willy and Elizabeth survived by dumb luck. The other ghost wasted all their energy bouncing the munchers against one another until they all got eaten. Another lesson learned. That’s why they kept the secret to themselves. Only by keeping an advantage over the others could they keep on surviving.

There were no muncher attacks during the week, not even flickering lights. John was focused on his training. Still no success.

“Hum… is not only the light.” Martin said out of nowhere.

“What?” Asked John, confused. He was focused on his finger and the old lady’s skin, so he didn’t actually listen to what Martin said.

“It is not just the light. Munchers don’t like strong energy sources. Maybe that is why they don’t appear until the fuse is blown and all energy is cut off; they could come out if the lights are off, but they don’t,” explained Martin.

“So, what do we do with that information?”

“Not much, but maybe there is another safe spot in the building.”

“The machine room?” John offered it as an option.

“No, that has been tried before; it is not safe there.”

After that moment, Martin started wandering around the building. He reexamined the walls once and again and looked out every window he could. He went down to the machine room. The breaker box was too small to have any effect. If only he could remember or see outside the building, he would notice the old street lamp that somehow got stuck into the right corner of one of the building expansions twenty years ago. The builders were lazy, and the old iron post was well cemented, so instead of removing it, they let it in as part of the structure; they didn’t even bother to check on the three meters of live wire that ran through the metal post and was still connected to the street main line.

No one knew about it; no one knew about that spot except Willy. That was his spot in case things got really bad one day.

One week later, Mr. Santana came back, even weaker and thinner than before, but still alive. That was good news; everyone felt relieved that the old man didn’t die. However, that same night, the munchers came for a visit. As usual, at ten o’clock, the show started.

“Lights, sound, action,” said Martin, like he knew it was going to happen.

The munchers came out of the wall as usual, went for Willy first, and after failing, started roaming to the other rooms and ghosts. Elizabeth’s room was already locked. John and a few others were at the pantry. They got in when the worker got out to fix the fuse, and as long as no one opened the door before the electricity was back on, they were supposed to be safe.

The light went back on, the munchers went back into the wall, there were no casualties today, and all ghosts were accounted for. However, the people coming out of Elizabeth’s room didn’t look happy at all.

“What happened?” Asked John.

“Elizabeth’s host died after he closed the door. They survived by an air strain.” Ramon answered.

“So, no safe spot now?”

“She will have to get a new host; in this case, we need an old person with advanced mental degeneration so she can nudge him or her to close the door. Anyway, she will need time to adapt to the new host. And that is bad, as bad can be.”

The nursing home personnel found the poor man laying on the floor as dead as a doornail. While they lifted the body to the bed to try to reanimate him, the ghost saw his own corpse get manipulated by the nurse and others.

He looked a lot different now that he was dead—a bit more chubby and younger; his eyes were not out of shine; and his sight wasn’t lost in nothingness anymore. He was confused; the room gave him a faint sense of familiarity, but he couldn’t remember clearly. He looked at his hands and everything around him. His sight landed on a petite, beautiful, white girl with hair as black as tar. He didn’t know her, but somehow he found her familiar.

“Welcome, Armando,” the young girl said with a voice that sounded like the chant of angels.

“Where am I?” Asked the old man.

By then, Shana was already by his side; she took him with her and explained the situation. A lot of the ghosts knew Armando. But he didn’t recognize anyone. He was already severely demented when he was admitted to the nursing home; he had no memory of how he got there. Listening to the workers talk about him, he found out he had been there for two years; his only son, who was a mercenary for a private military contractor, died in some war years ago. Now he was a ghost and was trapped there forever.

Meanwhile, the main subject of the day was the need for a new host for Elizabeth.

IX The greater good

Elizabeth, Ramon, and Shana came to Martin’s room. Martin knew why; they were not interested in him but in his host, Lucia. The old lady’s dementia was quite advanced, which made her a perfect fit to be the new host for Elizabeth.

“You know why we are here, Martin.” Shana went straight to the point.

Martin looked at Elizabeth and then at Lucia. There was no point in playing dumb.

“It is for the greater good.” added Ramon.

Martin knew they would use something like that.

“Don’t sell me that bullshit; I know that with Lucia’s help, Elizabeth can save many ghosts from the munchers. I will not oppose that.” Everyone’s face made a little smile. “However, in this world, nothing is free.” Martin cut their happiness short.

“What do you want?” Asked Elizabeth.

There wasn’t much for a ghost to bargain with. The choices were limited at best and nonexistent at worst. However, there was always something anyone wanted or needed; being dead didn’t change that fact.

“I want you to train John.” Answered Martin.

“No way.” Elizabeth didn’t like John from day one; that look he gave her the first day was enough to cause a bad impression on her. The stuff he did later only made things worse; there was no way she was going to help him.

“Okay then. Let’s say you will allow him to enter your room for safety until he learns how to leech on his own.” Before Elizabeth could reject Martin’s new proposal, “it is for the greater good,” the sly professor added.

“Fine.” Elizabeth gave up rolling her eyes.

Martin went out of the room. Elizabeth started leeching from Lucia right away. John had left long ago; getting close to Elizabeth would just make things worse, and he knew it, so he moved away as soon as he saw her.

“From now on, you will stay with Elizabeth during the attacks.” Martin told John.

“But she hates me.” Reminded John.

“I know, but I cut a deal with her in exchange for my host.”

“You could have asked for something else; why do that for me?”

“For you? Don’t be silly, kid; I did it for myself. There are three reasons why I asked that: 1) There ain’t much we can ask from other ghosts. 2) I need you to spy on her as much as possible. Since now you have an excuse, I want you to keep an eye on her. As soon as it gets dark, get close to her and don’t lose track of anything that happens or is said in that room.” Martin gave John his mission.

“Something is off with those two,” said Martin, referring to Willy and Elizabeth. “And I am going to find out what it is.”

´”What is the third reason?” John asked. “You mentioned three reasons, but you only said about two.”

“Oh, that. I just wanted to annoy her. Everyone knows she doesn’t like you.” Martin said, smiling.

Martin changed his host to an old man; he was a lot younger than Lucia, and his mind was still sharp. The old Benancio complained a few times that his shoulders were stiff and kind of heavy lately. When Martin wasn’t leeching the old men, John was practicing his skills, but still there was no success; it wasn’t an easy ability to learn.

The night came, the walls started making noises, the lights produced the usual flickering, and most of the ghosts took refuge in Elizabeth’s new room; however, a lot of them rushed to the entrance of the pantry as soon as she proved incapable of making her new host move.

“Her mind is still too sharp. We are ghosts; we are residues of a life; the only way we have to maybe influence someone’s will is if that person has almost no will left.” Explained Martin to John.

“Can you do it?” Asked John.

“Not yet; I am still too young of a ghost, or at least thats what Elizabeth and Willy said. According to Ramon, this is the only place where this is possible, as far as he knows. In the outside world, most ghosts don’t stay roaming longer than five years; they one day just evaporate like they never existed. It took Elizabeth almost twenty years to learn how to do it; on the outside, no one has that much time, nor does anyone want to. I have talked to Ramon about the outside; as far as we know after some time, our numbness to everything is absolute; even old grudges are forgotten, and once you don’t care and are bored out of your mind, you just vanish in thin air.” The professor had learned many things from other ghosts; that was one of the reasons Elizabeth didn’t like him; he asked too many questions. Same for Willy; he found the professor’s inquiries annoying, and he just wanted to be left alone.

“So, what now?” John asked, watching the lights flicker with a little bit more frequency.

“Go to the pantry; I doubt they will attack tonight, but just to be safe.”

John waited until a nurse went into the room and followed her in.

“Well, I heard that they are planning a surprise inspection of the building.” A nurse said.

“How can it be a surprise if there are rumors already?” A nurse assistant stated the obvious.

“Well, the explanation is simple. You remember last week Mr. Santana was sent to the hospital in bad condition?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, two of his sons went to the hospital to ask questions, and given the bad situation with Mr. Santana, they started lawyering up. Adrian, the son who is managing Mr. Santana’s business, found out. It seems he started to talk to his brothers, and the situation turned ugly. So, Adrian called his friends in high positions, and in case the old man dies, he intends to lower the building value by closing it down. That would be easy to do since the place is in serious violation of many regulations. Then Adrian can buy from his brothers for cheap, rework the building, do some repairs, and sell it later for a profit.” The nurse explained.

“Rich people fights, their greed knows no boundaries,” the nurse assistant commented.

“Well, I don’t know what will happen, but I am already sending my curriculum to other places, just in case.” The nurse added. “I recommend you do the same.”

“Not me. I am changing jobs; a cousin of mine can hook me up at a supermarket. I am getting tired of cleaning old people’s asses.” The nurse’s assistant refused the nurse’s idea.

John was standing in the room, listening to every detail. Martin was interested in knowing every rumor and gossip relating to Mr. Santana. Late in the night, the personnel used the quiet times to rest on the pantry sofa. Some went to any room that was unused to take a nap on the bed. However, there was always something: some demented old intern started screaming, roamed out of his room, or someone soiled the diapers and needed a change. There was always something that needed to be done, but the personnel could take a rest every now and then.

The night came to an end, and there was no muncher attack. Everyone went back to do their usual stuff. Most of the dead went to the entertainment room; watching television was the main thing to do.

John informed Martin about the gossip and then went back to training. There was nothing new or relevant in the information in Martin’s eyes. However, the fact that Mr. Santana was about to die and the sons were starting an inheritance fight was terrible news. The chances that the institution might be closed grew every day.

“I see, thanks, Wilma.” Elizabeth thanked another ghost. Martin wasn’t the only one interested in the gossip going around; in the same way the professor used John as an informant, Elizabeth used other ghosts that wanted to gain her favor to collect information. The news was bad for everyone, and Elizabeth was not the exception.

“It will happen soon,” she said to herself.

Ramon and Shana also knew about the legal fight between Mr. Santana’s heirs; they got the information by talking to the other ghosts in the entertainment room. Willy was probably one of the last to get the information, but he still got it somehow. He didn’t care, though; whatever came would come, and he would deal with it one way or another. For as long as the others didn’t mess with him, he was okay.

X Bound to happen

On a Wednesday, the sun came up to shine its light upon the world, but at Green Pine House, the future looked as dark as a night with no moon.

In room fourteen, the nurses, nurse assistants, and the doctor were doing their best to bring Mr. Santana back from the dead.

“If this old fart dies, we will all be unemployed within a month,” reminded a nurse. She was exhausted. Doing CPR was a tiring exercise.

“Well, I think we better be finding another job,” said the doctor.

He knew the man was dead, but his job at Green Pine House was easy. Most of the time, the only calls he got were about insignificant health issues, and if something was really bad, he just needed to call an ambulance and send the patient to the hospital. Getting a call at three in the morning was a weird event. This nursing home had a low density of patients; most of them used to be people with money, so the place had to have a good quality of life and enough personnel. Also, the pay was good; as a semi-private institution, the management was private, but the financing came from the government, so his pay check was juicy and always on time. The main reason for that was that Mr. Santana was the father of the manager. This was an excellent job position that he did not want to lose.

That was the reason why, although the old man was as dead as a door nail, the doctor and nurses desperately tried to restart his heart. It didn’t matter if he ended up as a potato; the important thing was making that heart pump. However, they didn’t make it. When the emergency service ambulance made it to the nursing home, and after a few extra rounds of failed CPR, Mr. Santana was declared dead.

The emergency services personnel left. The nursing home doctor called the family of the deceased and the funeral home; after that, he sat down to fulfill the defunct certificate.

The environment at the nursing home was somber and quiet. The workers and some of the patients who knew about the situation that might develop in the future were worried. Meanwhile, the ghosts that also roamed around the nursing home were scared out of their minds. The worst-case scenario, meaning the closing down of the institution, would condemn them all, and there was nothing they could really do about it.

“This is bad,” said Martin.

“Bad is a hangover; this is terrible,” Ramon added to the pessimism.

“Well, there is nothing we can do. We will have to wait and see.” Shana said, walking towards room fourteen. There was a new ghost in the home, and she was about to do the welcoming once again.

“Hello, Mr. Santana.” Shana greeted the old man, who was still a bit confused and shocked to see his own dead body being handled by the nursing home workers.

“Hello, and who are you?” The old man asked.

“I am Shana; nice to meet you. I’m like you, a ghost; we all are. Welcome to the afterlife.”

After the usual introductions and some explaining, Mr. Santana came to partially accept that he was, in fact, dead. It wasn’t so hard; he was old, and he knew it was a matter of time. He just didn’t expect to live over one hundred years. Although the last six years didn’t count, his dementia was too advanced for him to remember anything.

“We have some people you might know here.” Shana signaled to the other ghost.

“Oh my god, Wilma? Martin?, Jesus, its been a long time; when did you guys die?” Asked Mr. Santana.

“Not too long ago, my old friend, you were just too insane to remember us,” answered Martin with a smile.

“Good to see you, Josue.” Greeted Wilma.

Slowly, Josue Santana was introduced to the reality of his new existence: the limitations of being a ghost, the deadly trap in which they were forced to stay, the munchers, how things worked—everything that needed to be known was explained to the newcomer.

“This is Elizabeth.” Shana did the introductions.

“Oh, my darling, such a beautiful-looking lady, so young; how old are you, my dear?”

Contrary to John, Mr. Santana’s words and gaze were those of an old, lovely grandfather who looked at his grandchildren with care and worry. In the case of Elizabeth, the old men felt it was a shame she died so young.

“I’m old, not as old as you, but quite old, but I was just sixteen when I died, if that is your question.” Elizabeth answered with a smile.

“Oh, so sad, a whole life ahead of you, such a shame,” said the old man.

Shana explained to Mr. Santana some details about Elizabeth and how helpful she was; after that, they moved to Willy’s room.

“This is crying Willy.”

Willy just lifted up his head for a few seconds, looked at the old man, and went back to his position without saying a word.

“Excuse him, he is not very friendly.” Shana apologized.

Come; I will show you the pantry. While they moved away, Mr. Santana was trying to organize his memories. The robed man, with his sad, about-to-cry face, called his attention for some reason. However, Shana’s explanations about the pantry were more important, so he forgot about it quickly.

“This is the only place that might be safe at the moment. I hope we don’t have a muncher attack anytime soon, but if we do, this is your best chance until Elizabeth can work with her new host.” Shana was done with the introductions and explanations.

After they were done explaining the ins and outs of this new form of existing, Martin, Wilma, Ramon, and Shana introduced Josue to the news of what might happen in the future.

“Those little blood-sucking parasites,” Josue cursed.

It wasn’t anything new; he knew that of all his three sons and his daughter, only Adrian was smart and would not destroy his legacy or his small fortune. That was the reason why he left him to manage all of his business when he was too old and his mind was still sharp enough to make decisions by himself. However, he never thought that his son’s greed would haunt him and put him in danger even after his death.

By the time Josue was updated about the situation and possible outcomes of his demise, it was already dark. At ten o’clock, the lights were flickering, the noises started, and some low-pitched wailing came from the walls. Josue, John, Wilma, and a few others took refuge in the pantry.

“How long do you think it will take for Mr. Santana’s sons to come by?” Asked a nurse.

“By the way they acted and moved when he was hospitalized the last time, I am willing to bet they are on their way right now.” A male nurse assistant said.

“Do you really think they are going to close down the place?” Asked a female nurse assistant.

“I am ninety-nine percent sure they will. Those guys were just waiting for the old men to die to take a bite of his fortune. But I am sure Adrian isn’t just going to step aside and let them take whatever they want.” The male assistant answered.

Josue was there, listening to the chitchat and the gossip. Later that night, while the personnel tried to rest the best they could, the ghosts talked among themselves. All projected their own view of what might happen and discussed the possible outcome. The sentiment wasn’t positive in the group.

With the sunrise came a little bit of commotion. Like the workers discussed the night before, Mr. Santana’s sons came with their lawyers in tow, supposedly to inspect the installation and ask about the residents of the nursing home.

The truth was, they wanted to make an estimation of the income of the institution and explore the value of the property. However, they were not a unified front; some badmouthing and guilt-tripping were used to try to make the others back off from claiming this property.

The nursing home was a good business; it didn’t require too much attention, and the contract was linked to the government. Everyone knows the government never runs out of money, so it was a safe bet. Everyone wanted a piece of the old man cake, and the nursing home was the one with the cherry on top.

“Dear sister, how low of you to come here now that the old man is dead; you never worried about his health or visited when he was alive.” One of Josue’s sons said.

“Neither did you, little tramp,” yelled Josue, although he knew the living could not hear him.

“Oh, Kelvin, go try your cheap psychological tricks with someone else. Everyone knows you never came to see the old man; cut the bullshit. By the way, are you still trying to find a job with that useless degree of yours? Don’t worry; once I own this place, I might help you out and give you a job as a nurse assistant or something. You should at least be capable of washing an ass.” The workers of the nursing home that heard the comment looked at the woman with spite.

“Oh Clara, please, a monkey would be a better manager than you. How many businesses have you already bankrupted? Four? Six? A business and a husband are two things you just can’t keep in your hands.” Kelvin’s words clearly had some effect, as Clara was about to jump on him when her lawyer stopped her.

The third son present at the moment and his lawyer just kept themselves away from the quarreling brothers and watched the show.

The bickering came to an abrupt end when Adrian himself passed through the door. The way in which the brothers, lawyers, and everyone else present looked at him signaled who was really in control of the situation. That made old Josue proud. After all this internal fighting was over, whatever part of his fortune ended up in Adrian’s hands would be well managed. His legacy wouldn’t go to waste.

Before anyone could say anything, Adrian lifted up his hand.

“This matter should be discussed in private. Follow me”

He didn’t wait for an answer and walked straight to the pantry. His brothers, sister, and their lawyers walked behind him, while Josue and a bunch of ghosts followed. Josue didn’t like that many people were getting their noses into his family business, but he was dead; there was nothing he could do to stop them, and whatever happened in this room would seal their fate and their future.

XI Doing Businesses

After almost an hour of negotiation and discussion, the brothers finally came to an arrangement. Adrian was already the owner of ninety-five percent of his father’s most profitable business. Adrian made the naval fleet grow beyond everyone’s expectations; five of the six ships that made the fleet were bought by him and were in his name. The remaining ship that was still in his father’s name was an old boat that was about to be scrapped in the next few years. No one wanted that.

“It checks out. Sorry, but you really have no claim over the naval enterprise; it is basically his work. However, there are a few buildings, mainly this nursing home, that are very profitable.” A lawyer said. He wanted to fight the case, but he knew it was a lost battle.

“I have the right to twenty-five percent of this building and the others, and I am not renouncing my inheritance.” Adrian confirmed what the others were thinking.

The other building’s were not so important: a bakery on rent and an automated parking lot. The good stuff was the nursing home; it was a safe bet, easy to administer, and an easy-to-sell business.

“I have a proposition.” Adrian had planned for this long ago. He didn’t like his brothers; they were leeches; they came with the firm intention of sucking whatever they could out of the old man’s fortune; however, he was planning on giving them a life lesson.

Meanwhile, by the side of the unaware alive people, the ghosts were paying close attention to what was being discussed. Mr. Santana was surprised and proud of what his son had accomplished. His dementia didn’t allow him to follow up on his business growth; he never imagined that his small boat company would turn into such a monstrosity. The ships his son bought to expand the business were very expensive, and all of it was firmly in Adrian’s hands.

“Oh, what is your proposal?” Clara was the first one to show interest.

“The current tenant of the building of the bakery made an offer to buy it. It’s a good offer; in cash, we could sell it and split the money among us. On the other side, I know you all want a share of this nursing home, so I am willing to renounce my ownership in exchange for the parking lot and the five percent left of the fleet.” Adrian exposed his proposal and showed them the amount they were about to make with his agreement.

The brothers wanted cash mostly, so the sale of the bakery was a no-brainer. They tried to renegotiate the rest of the agreement, but the truth was that in the long term, the twenty-five percent of the nursing home held a lot more value than the parking lot and that old boat about to be decommissioned. At the end, they made a deal. From that moment on, Adrian would have no relation to the nursing home, and the rest of the brothers were supposed to share thirty-three percent of the nursing home ownership each.

A lot of documents were signed, and a considerable amount of money was transferred from Adrian’s account to his brothers and sister. Everyone was quite happy with the result of the negotiations. Adrian left first. The brothers informed the personnel of the changes in management and ownership.

“Do you wish to see the installations?” A nurse offered.

“No, thank you; we will be on our way.” Answered Clara. The brothers were not interested in the building at all. All of them were thinking about selling it to the best buyer and making a lot of cash out of it. Although there was no hurry, the sale of the bakery alleviated their most urgent need. The brothers left.

“Well, we are in trouble.” lamented Martin.

At the beginning, Mr. Santana was happy to see that his eldest son managed to save his fortune from the leeches. However, seeing the worried faces of the rest of the ghosts reminded him of his situation. According to the other ghosts, he was at huge risk. He didn’t believe it to be true until a few days later, when he had to take refuge in the pantry and saw the munchers roaming in the hallway. Then reality did its thing and hit him like a ton of bricks. If the nursing home was closed down, he and the other ghosts would be screwed.

His conversation with Martin and the others put him up to date on what was happening—the bribes, the regulation infringements on the building, and the fact that Adrian was not only about to fuck up his brothers in a bad way—but also condemn every soul in that building.

Two weeks later, Elizabeth’s ability to influence her host became useful again; the last two munchers incursions brought no casualties, which was great news. However, something had to go wrong. A month after the brothers visited, the town hall sent a group of specialists for a special technical building inspection. These were not the usual guys who were already on Adrian’s pay list.

“Jesus Christ,” complained one of the technicians, calling to his colleagues attention.

“Is that asbestos?”

“Yup, it is.”

“That is nothing,” said another one. “The plumbing has lead pipes and some copper ones; the electrical system is all weird; I don’t know how this place hasn’t caught fire yet. The iron rod disposition of the walls is a mess; how can this place keep its integrity? It makes no sense at all.”

“So, what does that mean?” Asked the nurse, playing the fool.

“This building should have been closed a long time ago; it breaks every regulation in the book. Sorry, we will have to close this place down as soon as possible.”

Adrian’s plan worked; his brothers would not only lose a lot of money, but if they tried to make a fuss about it, they might have to deal with legal repercussions. The previous inspectors were not only retired two years prior; they even moved to South America.

Meanwhile, panic was spreading among the other residents of the building.

“This is it,” said Elizabeth.

“Indeed. Now we just have to wait and find a safe place for ourselves.” Affirmed Willy. “Can I count on you?”

“Yeah, we are a good team,” she answered, leaving the room.

Willy went back to sit with his head between his legs while leeching away from his host.

The ghosts had a little bit of hope that Adrian’s brothers would find a way to delay or avoid the closure of the building. However, that didn’t happen. Three days later, the nurses and nurse assistants were choosing how the patients in the nursing home would be redistributed to other institutions. The situation was hopeless; many of the ghosts lost any desire to survive. That same night, the munchers attacked, and some ghosts decided not to hide. The munchers came for them, and the other ghosts saw them eat their neighbors in the hallway.

The atmosphere in the nursing home was grim for both the living and the dead. The workers lost a good job, the patients lost a very comfortable living place, and the ghost lost any chance for survival.

“I don’t believe things will end just like this.” Said Martin.

“What do you mean?” Asked Santana.

“I am pretty sure something is going to happen once all the living leave this place.” He was not the only one who had this feeling, although what others had was hope that the building would open up and they would be able to leave and escape the munchers. “I can’t do it without calling too much attention, but you two must keep an eye on Elizabeth and Willy.”

“Yeah, something is off,” said John. “Willy usually never moves his host, but lately Elizabeth visits him a lot. Every time she does, Willy closes the door. They are planning something.”

Watching over Elizabeth was John’s homework, and lately he noticed some changes in her routine.

From now on, while John kept Elizabeth under surveillance, Santana would keep an eye on Willy. The old man could not shake off the feeling that he was forgetting something very important. But the information was not clear in his mind; he was pretty sure it was something he learned or heard after the onset of his dementia. He remembered that his son Adrian came to see him once, and they talked about many things, some personal, some related to his business, but the details avoided his memories. For the time being, he didn’t have any choice but to watch Willy.

Meanwhile, by the gap between his legs, Willy’s eyes were fixed on Santana like a hawk watching his prey.

XII Memories

The fated day came. On that Wednesday morning, while the nursing home personnel helped the patients board the vehicles that would transport them or the ambulances took care of the more limited patients, the ghosts lamented that their only line for survival had been taken away. Sorrow and fear were the reigning emotions in this deathtrap, where they were forced to stay. It was just around ten in the morning when all the main personnel and patients were gone. Only some movers stayed behind, taking out the furniture and other stuff. Some technicians and mechanics worked fast to remove the generator from the building and load it onto a truck; the electricity was already down.

As if the building knew what was happening, right in the middle of the day, the walls started to screech and rumble stronger than ever. Some ghosts tried to test the invisible walls of their prison, only to find out that they were still as solid as ever.

Maybe the fear of what was about to happen made everyone fall into the same mood and pattern of behavior. Everyone started to reminisce about the past, thinking for the first time in a long while about their deaths and the things they regretted or never came to fulfill.

Martin laughed to himself, remembering how he used to be a solid man of science; nothing like the afterlife, ghosts, gods, demons, or any supernatural mumbo-jumbo made sense to him. However, life proved him wrong once and again. He should have spent more time with his kids and his wife, worked a lot less, and maybe lived a lot more. In the end, all his supposed knowledge didn’t amount to anything. Now faced by an imminent and ironic second death, he felt even more dumb and foolish than when he was alive.

Ramon was looking out the window. Although he already had time to process his internal turmoils in the years he spent as a ghost on the outside, he couldn’t forget about the feeling of freedom of being a trucker. He never married or had kids that he knew of. His real love was his truck and the roads. From Spain to Germany in an 18-wheeler, stop at the local motel and maybe have some fun with the local girls, boys, or both. Eating was fun; truckers knew the best restaurants with the best food and the cheapest prices.

“I miss my truck.” He said it with a face of sadness.

Shana was wondering what happened to her kids. Her last memory before dying was another car hitting hers. Her car rolled over itself a few times before she lost consciousness; most of her memory was a blur while she drifted between life and death. At the end, death won. She saw the paramedics trying to reanimate her corpse for a few seconds before the building pulled her soul away. At least her kids were not trapped in this hell; she wasn’t sure, but her mother’s instinct told her that her kids were alive and well. They had to be; that idea was her only bulwark against madness.

Willy was watching everyone around him; he could feel everyone’s fear. If things got out of hand and the worst-case scenario came to pass, at least he wanted to be in control of the situation and see everyone else fall before him. Bad habits die hard, and being a sadistic asshole didn’t die with him at all. His was maybe the most extreme case of a hail Mary pass, but even if he failed, well, at least he had his fun, his face twisted in pain and some fear as the building noises increased.

Elizabeth was in a room, looking out the window. She had no idea what getting eaten by a muncher felt like, but if it was anything like the hell she went through when she was alive, she had to survive this new nightmare no matter the cost. She was thankful that, as a ghost, she had no physical reactions; by this time, she would have goosebumps all over her body and tremble in fear just from the memories. When she was alive, she was a beautiful young woman, and she knew it; she was proud of that. It was another time, a long time ago. She was so young and stupid. A very rich man became obsessed with her; he promised everything from the earth to the moon, and he delivered. She was showered with all kinds of gifts, pampered, and treated like a queen. With the permission of her parents and thinking she had a secured future and was on her way to an easy life, she got married. Her husband turned out to be a deranged monster, and in one of his alcohol, drugs, and lust-driven madness moments, he strangled her to death. Her marriage lasted just nine months. Nine months of hell, which she didn’t want to remember, but those memories were still fresh in her mind: the strangled holds, the wound-up shirt around his fist, that alcohol stinking breath—if she didn’t know better, she would swear she could still feel the pain of that belt.

Josue Santana was not the exception to the rule; like everyone else, he was also remembering his past. Maybe because he was an ambitious man, he found himself in this situation. Maybe his greed was the sin that condemned him to this punishment, was kind or ironic; he was the one that bought the building for cheap; he was the one to teach his son how to make a profit and how to cheat the system; cooking the books; avoiding taxes; paying bribes. Maybe now he was paying the price for his transgressions. However, he didn’t care; he was greedy in life and was greedy in death. His fortune was safe and growing in his son Adrian’s hands. He looked around the building with a smile. He made a good deal; the architect who made the building knew how to cut corners with cheap but sturdy materials; who cared if they were illegal? There was no doubt that William was an evil genius. Like if a stormy day finally cleared and the sun shone in the sky, clarity came to Josue’s mind.

“Williams Argent Palau… crying Willy.” Said Santana in a low voice.

He had to move fast; he didn’t know how important this was or what repercussions it could have. He found John first, and together they got near Martin.

“Come, I remembered something important.” Santana urged them to move as far as possible from the others.

“So, spit it out,” Martin demanded.

“This building I bought it for cheap; I knew there was some shabby stuff in the construction, but you know it was back in the day.”

“Get to the point, will you?” Martin urged; they didn’t have time to waste. The sun was about to set on the horizon. The noises on the walls were stronger than ever; there was an attack incoming, no doubt about it.

“Right, right, the architect. This guy Willy; I knew I had seen him before; his full name is William Argent Palau; he is the architect who designed this building.”

John was surprised, but he didn’t know what to do with the information. Martin, on the other hand, was lost in his thoughts; a few ideas came into his mind. Too bad it was too late.

The screams and wailing in the hallway announced the appearance of the Munchers. All the ghosts tried to run, but the bedrooms, the pantry, and all the rooms were wide open, and there was no living to leech from. Martin and the other were looking towards Willy’s room. Elizabeth was by his side.

“This is it.” Said Willy. “Help me out; let’s close this door.”

“Sure”

Willy extended his right hand, his index finger pointing at the door. While he was trying to use the energy he had collected from the living for years and throw it at the door, he felt a small push from behind. After that, he flew out of the room and crashed against the wall with enough strength to make some noise that even the living would be able to hear. Too bad the building was empty.

After recovering from his surprise, he turned around and looked at the door of his room; it was closed. Elizabeth pushed him out at the last second.

“Treacherous bitch!” Willy yelled.

However, there was no time to deal with Elizabeth’s betrayal; the munchers were coming, and they were fast. Willy ran away down the hall. John, Martin, and Santana were surprised; if Willy was the architect, maybe he knew something the others didn’t; however, it seemed like he got played by Elizabeth and was as fucked as everyone else.

Inside Willy’s room, Elizabeth felt more at ease; she didn’t like Willy at all. Something about him gave her the creeps, a mental nauseating feeling. Willy reminded her of her husband. There was no way in hell she was going to stay trapped in a room with such a guy for, god knows how long.

Willy ended up near Martin, John, and Santana; they were the ones further away from the other ghosts; some were shocked when they saw what happened to Willy. In the last few days, some of the ghosts went to Elizabeth for hope. She told them there was nothing she could do; at the end, she screamed at them.

“There is nothing I can do; we are all fucked!”

However, now she was safe in a locked room, while the others tried to survive; some tried to outrun the munchers or fight back to no avail. The munchers were having an all-you-can-eat buffet. Ramon grew tired of it; he threw away all desire to survive and decided that, at least this time, he would go on his own terms. He ran towards the munchers like he was trying to make some momentum, something foolish, taking into consideration that he didn’t have a physical body. When he was close enough, he launched a punch, and to his surprise, it landed. The muncher trembled like it was made of jelly. Ramon was surprised, and so were the ghosts that watched what just happened. Like if he were a boxer, Ramon raised his fist, got on his guard, and went for the next punch full of confidence. But this time it didn’t work; his punch had no weight, no momentum, and no power.

“Fuck!” was Ramon’s last word.

The muncher’s tentacle-like tongues wrapped around his body, dragging him closer. His screams started as soon as the muncher’s many mouths teared him apart. The other two munchers were eating the other ghosts, and after eating enough, they started screaming in pain, tore themselves apart, and doubled in number. Now six munchers roamed the nursing home. Shana lost the will to run, and while a muncher dashed towards her with its many legs, Shana prayed to God. She got eaten and screamed in agony like all the others before her.

The munchers only took a minute to eat everyone. Now the six munchers were coming towards the last four ghosts left. Slowly, Willy had made his way to the back of the group, and before they could react, a strange force pushed them all towards the munchers.

John, Martin, and Santana tried their best to avoid the munchers tongues. It was a futile effort; they got eaten while screaming and cursing Willy’s name.

Willy used the small amount of time he managed to buy, sacrificing the others, to move towards his objective. He was a few centimeters away from the column that constituted a safe spot, and for as long as there was electricity in the street system, that place would be safe. A muncher tongue wrapped around his arm, Willy smiled. He used some of his energy, grabbed the tongue, pulled, dashed forward, and made it to his safe spot, dragging the muncher with him. Near the column, the muncher screamed in pain. Willy pulled with even more strength, dragging the monster closer. Slowly, the muncher started getting into his body; his eyes turned black, and his face distorted in a painful expression. The other munchers had finished their meal. They looked at Willy in confusion for a moment, but when the many heads in the monstrous blob started eating each other, they decided that Willy was a better meal.

As soon as they got close to Willy and the column, they screamed in pain. Willy extended his hand, took a grab, and pulled them in. One after another, he absorbed all the munchers into himself. His face distorted in pain every time, but once he was done, he felt relieved and walked away from the column. His face lost that crying expression. His mouth twisted in a wicked grin.

He had suffered for years; keeping those monsters inside him day after day was so painful; the lights, the electricity, the sun—it hurt so much. Only using some energy to create a blackout and letting those monsters out alleviated his suffering. As soon as the lights were out, he unloaded the monsters into the walls. Although every time he freed them, he had to fight to control them again. Luckily, hiding inside him was the only thing the monsters could do. When the lights came back, the monsters ran to the wall at the end of the hallway for refuge, attracted by the distribution of metal and electricity in the building. They fell for the trap every time. They circulated inside the walls until he used a small spark of energy to attract them and lock them down inside his ghostly body. He could do it all without raising any suspicion because no one wanted to be close to him. Crying Willy was a coward and a total asshole. He spent years and years collecting the energy of the living and the dead, all for this moment. Unfortunately, Elizabeth tricked him, and he wasted a lot of energy, but there was still enough to complete his plans.

“That little bitch,” he said, walking towards his room.

XIII

A battery

When the door to the room closed, Elizabeth felt relieved; she was safe for the time being. At first, she was reluctant to watch the others get eaten; after all, she had existed among some of them for years. However, she felt no guilt; this was a matter of survival. She already knew how the ones outside would end; to justify herself and to find motivation, she convinced herself that someone had to watch their end, like some kind of testimony that they existed. She came close to the door. The rooms of the older and more fragile patients had this small Cristal window through which the workers of the nursing home could take a look at the sleeping patients without having to open the door and disturb their sleep. Some of them had a very light sleep, and to make things worse, it was not easy for them to fall asleep. She could not see much, but it was enough. She saw Willy run away; the munchers passed by the room; then she heard the screams of the ones getting eaten by the monsters; and then there was silence.

She was surprised when she saw Willy come walking straight to the door.

“Elizabeth, they are gone.” He said. “The munchers are gone; we can leave; the others ran outside the building, and the munchers followed them; we can leave; come, let’s go before they come back,” Willy said as he was vigilant towards the main door of the building.

Elizabeth wanted to believe him; she was happy for a second; maybe the nightmare was over; maybe she was finally free. However, something in her mind screamed at her to be careful.

“Why is Willy the one coming to tell me? I just betrayed him and threw him to the munchers. The Willy I know is not so noble. Something is wrong.” These thoughts made her doubtful.

“You are lying” was Elizabeth’s answer.

Through the cristal, Willy looked at her face and realized his bait was not effective; she wasn’t coming out on her own. Elizabeth saw Willy’s eyes turn pitch black; that usual crying expression of his was gone, and instead he had an evil grin that showed his teeth’s.

“You little bitch, you know how much energy you made me waste with your little double cross?”

“You? How?” Elizabeth was surprised and confused.

“Open the door, you stupid whore!” yelled Willy.

Elizabeth didn’t know what was going on or what was happening to Willy; he didn’t get eaten by the munchers, nor did he become one of them. She went down on her knees and, with her index finger, did what she used to do to leech energy from the living, but in this case instead she was pouring some energy into the door. She made her move in the nick of time, while he did the same and tried to move the handle. However, Elizabeth’s energy interfered, and Willy’s attempt failed.

“Oh, come on, just open the fucking door!” Willy was losing his patience. “Okay, you asked for it.”

Like if a ram had hit the door, it flung wide open, sending Elizabeth flying in the air. She crashed against the wall. As a ghost, she was not hurt, but an uncomfortable feeling went through her ghostly body. She raised her head and looked at Willy. His black eyes and six long tongues came out of his mouth and were moving like snakes around his head. For a moment, she had flashbacks of the day of her death, and her mind was filled with fear.

Willy walked slowly towards her; her mind was blank; she was screwed, and she knew it. Whatever Willy was or planned to do, it would not be good for her.

“What am I doing?” She asked herself.

She had been dead for years; her life was cut short by a maniac, then she got trapped here; not even in death did she find peace. Anger overtook the fear; she pointed her index finger at Willy, and before he could do anything, the released energy hit him and pushed him back. But Willy just resumed his walk. Elizabeth tried again to push him back, but this time she did not have enough energy.

She was cornered against the wall. Willy was on her way to the door and walking slowly towards her. He could have rushed and caught her, but there was no hurry, and her fear entertained Willy’s sadistic nature. Seconds later, Willy was in front of her, looking down at her face. She tried to punch him and slap him, but she had no more energy, and her ghostly body was useless. Willy’s tongues wrapped around her neck, and Elizabeth felt as if something had been drained from her. Then a painful sensation invaded her body; it felt like she had been submerged in boiling water, and all of her skin was on fire. She wanted to scream; she wanted to kick and struggle, but her body didn’t move. All she could do was endure the pain in silence.

“I hope you are enjoying it; I had to deal with something similar for years.” It was not totally the truth; whenever he had the munchers inside his body, he took control of them, and the pain he felt was just a fraction of what the munchers themselves were feeling. What was going through Elizabeth right now was a lot more than what Willy ever felt.

Willy walked out of the room. Elizabeth’s immobilized body was suspended in the air by his long tongues and dragged along the hallway. Willy walked straight to the machine room, where the generator used to be. He squatted down his hand when through the floor, and a strong rumbling noise was heard over the whole building. The noises were so intense that maybe they might have been heard by the living if there were any around. Willy tongues lowered Elizabeth’s body through the floor until only her head was out.

“You are going to be a great battery.”

Willy took her head on his hands; his tongues receded, and he looked up at the ceiling.

A black mucus-like substance formed around Willy’s skin and then seeped into Elizabeth’s head, like if she were suddenly woken up and reconnected; her body turned rigid, her eyes opened wide, and a scream escaped her mouth. Meanwhile, Willy had a face of relief. The weight of hundreds of tortured souls—fear, hunger, pain—and the endless cycle of the munchers cannibalism that had been running for almost fifty years were all released from Willy and dumped into Elizabeth’s soul. However, she had no control over the munchers; she didn’t have the energy needed to keep them at bay. They started ravaging her soul; she was deforming at a visible speed and turning into a muncher. Once all the munchers were out of his body, and before she turned into one herself, Willy let Elizabeth’s head go. She fell into a pitch-black space. The sound of some metal mechanism resounded in the machine room, then a small vibration shook the whole building.

The rumbling intensified along the walls, and the sound of gears turning could be heard. Meanwhile, inside the darkness, Elizabeth screamed. The munchers were hurting like never before; to them, it was like if there were a hundred suns bathing them in their lights. To ease the suffering, they started eating themselves inside Elizabeth’s body.

Elizabeth was halfway turned into a muncher. Her body tried to defend itself from what was hurting her and, at the same time, tried to turn. She reformed and reformed again in a fast cycle. The munchers inside her fought for a position further away from her skin while eating each other. Along with her, the monsters turned into a deformed blob of pain, suffering, hunger, and madness.

After a few minutes, the rumbling in the building stopped. Willy smiled and then started dancing and laughing.

“Para ra, parapa, parara raran,” he repeated while dancing along the hallway.

Once at the entrance of the building, he looked back.

“Not bad” His aberrant and anti-natural creation worked with the precision of a Swiss watch.

Willy walked out of the building, phasing through the door like it didn’t exist. Once outside, he took a minute to look at the sky and the world around him. It was the first time he was outside in fifty years since he died. A new moon and the stars adorned the sky, and the street lights illuminated the road. Without looking back, he started his walk. He was still dead, but he was free, an unbound ghost; he could go wherever he wanted. But he already knew where he had to go. His best work, his Magnus Opus: The Atocha General Hospital, was the pinnacle of his career as an architect. All of this hell he passed through in this pathetic nursing home was for the sole purpose of freeing his soul. Now, with his newfound freedom, he could try and have another chance at life.

XIV Debauchery

There was a long road ahead of Willy; the nursing home was far away from Atocha. He didn’t know exactly how to get there, but he had time, and as a ghost, there was nothing that could hurt him. Walking down the street under the lights of the lamps, he remembered when all his life went south. It was 1972, and he was a young, ambitious, and motivated architect with a few successful works in Spain and France. He was still young, just entering his thirties, but he was a genius and a growing powerhouse among his peers. Willy got invited to a high-profile dinner at the luxurious Château de la Belle in the beautiful Côte d’Azur, France. It was a great honor; he got lucky. A man with a lot of power and relations got a fancy on one of his simplest works and decided he wanted to meet the architect.

This meeting would be more transcendental for his future than he expected.

“Oh, Mr. Argent, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” A fifty-something-year-old white man greeted him. The man was balding and a bit chubby, but something about him was charming.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Crowley, and please call me Willy.”

“Very well, then just call me Edward.”

They hit it off immediately; something about them clicked, like they had been meant to meet.

“I have seen a few of your works; there is something on your buildings—something powerful, wild, mystic—and I love it.”

“Glad you enjoyed it. Normally, architecture is about mathematics and an artistic touch, but for me, there is something more. It’s like there is more to buildings—some kind of energy… Have you ever had the feeling that there is more around us than we can see?”

Crowley smiled. “You are what my instinct told me you would be.”

They spent more time talking on many subjects, and Crowley introduced him to many powerful and rich people in the French high class. Past midnight, Crowley and a group of his closest friends separated from the others. As if it were a signal, most people would leave the premises, and it would seem that the party was over. However, such an assumption would be wrong. Crowley invited Willy to the basement.

Instantly after entering the underground room, a strong spirit drink was served. It had a mix of alcohol and a few herbs that Willy did not recognize. The drink was strong and burned the throat, but it was flavorful at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a newcomer, Mr. Williams Argent Palau, a young, promising architect and a man that I have confirmed has the touch. Like many of us, he has some sensitivity towards what is hidden to the less gifted. Please welcome him to our group, and as usual, let’s enjoy ourselves to our hearts content.” Crowley spoke to the crowd.

Willy felt a little bit weird, but in a good sense; the drink was doing its thing, he felt unbound and unrestricted, a feeling of freedom invaded his mind and his body, and arousal and desire took control over him. He wasn’t the only one; the underground room had turned into the scenarium of a frenetic orgy in which the young Willy took part.

After that night, Willy was invited to a few more parties, and his fame among the wealthy and influent people across Europe increased, but mostly in Spain and France. The debauchery and degeneration increased with each party; the amount of alcohol, drugs of all kinds, and sexual deviancy was reaching biblical proportions.

With time, Willy’s personality had become twisted beyond recognition; he developed a sadistic preference and did some acts that were legally and morally reprehensible.

“There is nothing like enjoying other people’s pain. But is not enough, is never enough,” he told Crowley one day in one of their private meetings.

“Soon, I will show you something that will take you to a new level,” Crowley promised.

Finally, that day had come. Willy was invited to a very exclusive party; there weren’t many people, just some of Crowley’s closest friends, whom he usually called the gifted ones.

As always, the event was celebrated underground in the basement of a mansion. All kinds of metallic structures had been carefully and precisely assembled in the room. In the middle of it, a pocket watch took on the protagonist role.

“Willy, please come and touch it,” Crowley invited.

Willy did as instructed, and after a few seconds, he removed his hand in surprise.

“There is something there,” Willy said.

The others in the room smiled; Willy was one of them.

“Correct, a soul, to be precise.” Answered Crowley. “I knew you would be able to feel it. Yes, my friend, there is another world; there are ghosts, souls, and a lot of things beyond what our eyes can see.”

The other members of the reunion got close to them.

“This contraption helps us magnify our abilities and allows us to interact better with a spectrum. Ghosts are not abundant; some seem to be bound to something or some place, like what happens with this watch. Now let’s activate it.” After explaining how everything worked, Crowley lowered a switch, and electricity started running through the metal structure, making the structure create a humming noise.

The assistants to the event touched the pocket watch, Willy included; they didn’t see anything, but they could hear the screams and have the sensation that the ghost bound to the watch was suffering. Crowley pulled a second switch; the screams increased, and Willy felt it clearly: pain, fear, desperation, madness. How many times has Crowley used this contraption on this ghost? It was exhilarating, and by the time the event was over, Willy still had a hard time.

“How many times have you done this?” Willy asked.

“A few times, ghosts are hard to come by, and they don’t last long. It is a shame; that feeling is wonderful.” Crowley answered with a smile, and everyone agreed.

Many of the guests were excited as well; that same night another party was organized, and they got to enjoy themselves.

From that day on, Willy started dabbling in the occult, and Crowley opened a lot of doors for him in that sense. After learning the most esoteric aspects of this new world, Willy started learning some engineering, which also elevated his quality as an architect. Four years later, he was a common face in the high spheres of the esoteric and supernatural worlds.

Unfortunately, just because they knew about the esoteric world, that didn’t mean they were immortal. The advent of the HIV epidemic caused many casualties among the members of the Crowley esoteric group. After some of them got scared and came to the conclusion that the disease was some sort of divine punishment for their many perversions and transgressions, the group disbanded. Crowley was betrayed and used as a scapegoat for many illegal activities, including drug smuggling, human trafficking, and sex slavering. Most of the charges were true to begin with; Crowley disappeared from Europe. The last news Willy had about him was that he died somewhere in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Things got a bit ugly for Willy; he managed to get Scotch free from the esoteric group debacle, but his runs with Crowley and his bunch had some consequences. In 1981, he was diagnosed with HIV. Willy managed to keep it a secret; there was a lot of stigma around the disease; he kept on working and made it to the height of his career; he worked on many projects without stopping his progress in esoteric engineering; he did a few tests, which worked out quite well. Copying Crowley designs, he came up with his own concepts and versions. Creating traps for souls and many devices that could affect ghosts and spectrums to some degree.

By 1985, Willy was obviously sick. However, he managed to complete his best work to date, the Atocha General Hospital, which was both the zenith of his architect career and also his best esoteric engineering work. In the last months of his life, his last work was an unassuming building that would later be used as a nursing home for the elderly. One Saturday of the year 1987, Willy broke into the building and hung himself in the machine room. With the suicide and some dubious design choices, the value of the property decreased; later, it was sold to a greedy man of business. Willy Soul was trapped in the building of his own creation; there, he had time to learn more about this new form of existence and plan for his future. Many of his theories about the spirit world were correct, and his project was valid and on its way.

XV  Cheating death

It took Willy an entire day to make it to the hospital; he got lost a few times. Madrid has changed a lot since he died. It was a long road, but entertaining. After so much time locked in the nursing home, being out was an improvement. Although he could not feel the wind, the sun’s warmth, or anything for that matter, it was great to be able to look around. However, he would not spend too much time roaming; he had a plan and an objective. Getting out of the nursing home with the amount of stolen living energy he had now was a huge progress in his plans. He stood a few meters away from the hospital.

Was his creation working properly?

He didn’t want to just disappear after entering the building and be trapped inside his own machine. He stood outside, watching from a relatively safe distance; there was no ghost in the doors or in the windows. It made sense; he designed it like that. Any soul that turned into a ghost in that hospital was drained in seconds and absorbed into the machine hidden inside its structure.

After watching for almost two days, he confirmed that there were no ghosts inside the hospital; he would have seen one of them by now. Willy steeled his resolve and walked forward. If his assumptions were wrong, the building would drain him and trap him like it did to others. The energy from the living stored in his soul was supposed to protect him from that. Luckily for him, his brain and talent were almost flawless; even at the door, nothing happened. However, he was not able to phase through the door.

“This is not good,” Willy said to himself.

This was bad news; even if his design was working correctly, he would not be able to use it if he was locked outside. Almost nothing could disturb his cold and analytic mind, but this was making him get worried.

Willy waited a little bit, and as soon as someone opened the door, he slipped in. His attempt was a success; his worries dissipated; not only was he in the hospital, but his soul was still in one piece. This was great news, but his happiness was short-lived.

“Shit”

The building was slowly sucking up his energy. He didn’t have time to waste; he followed the signals and directions in the hallways. His objective was the ICU. The intensive care unit would have what he needed: a lot of patients in critical condition from which he could easily leech energy, and maybe a suitable body that he could claim as his own.

When Willy got to the ICU, almost half of the energy he stole from the living and stored in his soul was already gone. But the ICU was an all-you-can-eat buffet. He went straight for it; his years of experience and the state of the patients made it easy for him to steal a lot of energy from his comatose victims. Almost half of the patients had a low chance of surviving; the medical equipment was the only thing keeping them alive. Now that Willy was leeching them at a high speed, the patients died one after another, and in just one week, half of the beds in intensive care were emptied. Normally, stealing some energy from the living does no harm, but the contraption hidden in the hospital walls was made with a very specific purpose; basically, it facilitated the extraction of life force from others and absorbed the dead or the energy inside the dead. Willy restored two times the amount of energy he had when he got into the building; sometimes, right after death, some of the patients turned into ghosts themselves; they only had time to see Willy’s creepy smile before banishing and being sucked up by the walls. However, the sudden increase in mortality among the patients created some alarm in the hospital.

A reunion was called, and the many doctors of the unit decided to address the situation.

“This is not normal. There have been too many deaths these last two weeks. We need to do an intense cleaning and disinfection of the unit. From now on, we have to increase our precautions against germs with more gloves, masks, and personal protection equipment.” The head of the ICU decided.

“But sir, there is no evidence that we are dealing with an infection of any kind.” Other doctors from the team signaled.

“Yes, I know, we will also take other measures, but the usual cause of death is the spread of some infection among the patients because of our procedures. So even if there is no evidence of that being the case, we should take measures anyway.” The chief insisted.

The hospital personnel did everything in their power to try to find the reason for the increase in mortality in the unit. Willy continued to steal the energy from the comatose patients one after another. This was not the nursing home; the machine constructed into the hospital walls worked differently, and no one would do too much drama if two or three ICU patients died every now and then. Only when the death toll was so high that the hospital directive got involved and talked about changing the location of the ICU and taking some more drastic measures did Willy reduce his murder spree. He reduced his energy intake in a way that only killed two or three patients every week. His energy level was now three times what he had in the nursing home, and it kept increasing.

After four months in the hospital and fifty-two dead patients, finally a suitable body appeared; it was a twenty-five-year-old man, one hundred and seventy-two centimeters tall, white, black hair, brown eyes. It was not the body Willy had in mind, but it was good enough. He didn’t want to wait anymore and went straight for it. Willy’s ghostly finger made contact with the patient, but instead of leeching energy out of him, Willy was infusing the energy he had onto his target. Everything went well for the first minute or so; however, Willy started to feel a strong rejection from his target. The minds of both men connected in a blurry, semiconscious, distorted way; they both knew that someone else was there, and a battle of wills started. Willy pressured himself to inject more of his energy. The comatose man’s mind and soul tried to hold onto his body and rejected Willy’s energy. The confrontation turned painful for both of them. Willy was used to pain, so he endured. He started to gain some ground when he came to the realization that his energy was running low; if he ran out of energy without successfully taking over the body, the building would absorb his soul. Willy desisted and unwillingly backed away. After that, he went back to collecting energy from the other comatose patients.

One day the young man woke up, and Willy saw his future body escape from his reach. This time he failed; he expected some resistance from the living, but not that fierce; the energy consumption was too big; now he had to collect even more energy than before. That took a lot of time, but it didn’t matter; he had all the time in the world.

Six months and a whole bunch of new corpses later, Willy’s energy levels doubled what he had in his first attempt to possess a new body. The time had finally come; Willy had found a new recipient for his soul. This time it was a seventeen-year-old boy, a suicide attempt. The boy was skinny but good-looking, had blue eyes, was one hundred eighty centimeters tall, and had blond hair. Willy went into action, and surprisingly, he felt little to no rejection from the body; the mental connection was even less clear than with the other guy he tried first. There was no will or desire to live in his victim. Willy used the opportunity to pour all of his energy into one go to save energy, just in case; his advance was quick, then a strong backslash hit him like a ton of bricks, and the new body became unstable. Willy didn’t like the reaction and withdrew. The young man started convulsing. The doctors tried to stop the attack, but all the drugs used were useless, and the patient died. Willy saw the young man’s soul leave the body and be suctioned by the walls.

“Going too fast is not good, and a long confrontation consumes a lot of energy,” said Willy to himself. “Also, it seems suicidal patients are easier to take over.”

Willy tried a few more times; he even tried on women’s bodies but got the strongest rejections. He confirmed that suicide victims were the weakest souls he could find.

After two years, Willy was finally ready; his soul was bloated with stolen energy, and he had a good profile on the most convenient victim for him. All he had to do now was wait for his next body. It was a Friday night, and young kids go out, get drunk, get high, and do stupid things. Maybe he would get lucky tonight… or so he thought. Something weird had been going on a few seconds ago. The walls started rumbling. He turned around, and if he had any blood on his body, he would be livid anyway. What was happening now made no sense to him.

“No way,” Willy said, with a face of disbelief.

On the other side of the ICU hallway, a huge ghostly blob stood on its many legs. Several deformed arms, torsos, and faces with long tongues had their sight fixed on him. In the middle and front of this abomination, a peculiar torso seemed to lead; what was left of Elizabeth was staring at Willy. Her face was disfigured, part of her long hair was gone, her right eye was slightly protruding from her orbit, and her left cheek was torn and showed her teeth’s. Even with that half-mutated face, he could see that she was angry. Elizabeth screamed, and the other ghosts who were part of the huge monster joined her. The screams resonated on the walls of the building, creating a small vibration.

“Shit!”

Willy Mind was working on overdrive; he only had two choices: fight it off or run. He knew no one could overrun a muncher; he created and manipulated them for years. Fighting was his best choice, but for how long could he fight? His energy would run out sooner or later, and the munchers never stopped unless the lights… The lights? The lights were on. How could the munchers be there?. Then he realized the contortion in Elizabeth’s face was not only anger; it was pain. She was taking control of the munchers and forcing them to endure while running on pure hatred.

He didn’t have time to think anything else; the blob dashed straight to him. He had no choice; he was bloated on the energy he stole from the living anyway. He used said energy to push the blob back, and the thing flew in the air and crashed against the wall.

“What was that?” one of the nurses said.

“What?” another nurse asked.

“I don’t know; I think I heard something crash.”

While they doubted what they just heard, the muncher blob got up and attacked Willy again. This time, he pushed in another direction. The muncher crashed against a patient bed; the bed shook and moved a bit.

“What’s going on?” said the doctor, who was near the bed. He got closer, checking if the brakes on the bed were set properly. In that moment, the doctor felt something crash against him and fell. Out of reflex, he grabbed an intravenous saline solution that was connected to a central catheter on the patient. The catheter was yanked off, and blood started pouring out. The doctor got up, saw his accidental mistake, and tried to stop the hemorrhage. The nurses came to his aid.

Meanwhile, the battle of the dead raged on. Willy used his energy to push Elizabeth and the rest of the blob back every time they launched at them. Then Willy realized.

“It is getting smaller.”

Willy looked around him. The building was absorbing the munchers. They didn’t have the energy from the living needed to sustain themselves; they were being drained. Willy smiled; this was his victory.

The blob launched against him, and the result repeated once and again. A few moments later, the ICU was a mess; there were beds out of place, things on the floor, trails and tables flipping, and a computer screen was broken.

Meanwhile, the blob had reduced to four disfigured torsos, and Elizabeth’s, although she was still deformed like before, seemed to have a shed of clarity in her eyes. Willy didn’t like that, but still, there was nothing she could do; her time was running out, and Willy still had enough juice to outlast her.

Elizabeth looked at him, and now her face was pure rage. She screamed again. The walls resonated with her scream, trembling faintly. Even with her limited thinking capability at the moment she noticed, she looked at the walls in confusion. Willy also noticed. An idea came to his mind, and his face changed.

“Hey bitch!” He needed to distract her.

Elizabeth looked at Willy again, anger showing. Another torso disappeared from the muncher. Willy was winning. However, Elizabeth looked at the wall again.

“Come on! I am here! Don’t you and that bunch of losers with you want me? Come get me; I am right here!” Willy taunted.

Elizabeth looked at him and then looked at the wall. Elizabeth tilted her head, smiled, stuck to the wall, and screamed.

“Fuck!” screamed Willy, and he lifted his hand.

The wall wobbled and swallowed Elizabeth and what was left of the original blob of munchers. The walls started screeching and rumbling so hard that they could even be felt by the living.

“What is going on today? Do we have an earthquake?” One of the nurses asked while trying to tidy up the mess.

“It looks like it’s only here; everything is fine everywhere else,” a nurse assistant answered.

The rumbling sound increased. Willy wasn’t sure what was going on; this building was not built like the nursing home. The system was different; the building was supposed to swallow the dead souls to avoid other ghosts getting involved in his stuff and also facilitate the absorption of the energy of the living. But now a bunch of munchers were feasting upon the thousands of souls that the hospital had held within its walls for nearly fifty years. That was not good for Willy.

Willy looked around at the patients in the ICU. There were no good choices; most of the patients were over fifty years old and had a few health problems. Yet he didn’t have the time to look for a better choice. He got close to a fifty-five-year-old obese patient who had a heart transplant two days ago and was in an induced coma. The doctors said that the surgery went well and he had high chances of recovering. Willy calculated he had enough energy left to take over this body; he started transferring his energy straight away; he met resistance and started the will thug of war. He was clearly winning and focused on the job at hand. He was half way through overtaking the body and double his effort and concentration. Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t realize that the rumbling on the walls had stopped.

An intense cracking sound broke his concentration. Willy turned around, and the wall behind him broke in half. The hospital personnel only saw the wall that broke, opening a small crack, but they didn’t see what happened later. From the inside of the wall, numerous tongues launched at Willy. He forgot about his plan to take over a new body and used his energy to repeal the tongues. More came his way. Thousands at the same time. After a while, Willy ran out of energy, and hundreds of tentacle-like tongues wrapped around his body. The suffering, regret, rage, pain, loneliness, and desperation of thousands of souls trapped and tortured for years flooded into Willy all at once, driving him into madness.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, regained some control over herself and what was going on. Still in her head, the thoughts of hundreds of other souls collided, making a confusing mess. However, she reigned over some of them and forced them to follow her will. It took her two years locked in the dark to learn to do something similar while in a state of borderline madness. It was helpful that many of the souls trapped inside the walls still retained some sanity, and the munchers didn’t eat them all; they helped her control the creatures to some degree.

Elizabeth controlled some of the munchers invading Willy Soul; they ate the others while one torso grew out of Willy Soul, tearing a piece of it in the process. That soul escaped the new muncher blob and then disappeared in thin air. One by one, the monstrous blob started reducing its size; every time a tortured soul escaped, Willy Soul had a piece of it torn out. Elizabeth could feel his suffering and smiled. At the end, only Elizabeth remained, holding the shreds of Willy’s soul; he still existed. Contrary to the munchers that regenerated while eating each other, Willy’s soul was torn to pieces. Elizabeth let the few lasting pieces of Willy Soul fall to the floor; they turned into nothingness. She walked straight through the hospital walls; the mechanism that Willy constructed was already broken. Ironic, she was totally insane, but thanks to that she didn’t care about anything, not her past, not the present, even less about the future anymore. Outside, under the moonlight and the glittering of the stars, she felt free for the first time ever. Elizabeth closed her eyes and vanished.

Epilogue

Adrian never had any intention of abandoning the building that used to be a nursing home. The fact that right now Green Pines House was to some degree considered a biohazard and its structural integrity left too many doubts, downgrading its value, only made Adrian even more interested.

After screwing his brothers over, the land and the building were sold out at a discounted price a year after their closure. A company decided to buy it; that company later re-sold the property to a subsidiary of Adrian Naval Empire, who coincidentally had a good contact in the Agriculture Ministry, which also handled rural land development.

A year later, after buying the land, Adrian hired an architect and a demolition team. The place was torn apart, and the dangerous materials were ignored after some bribes were handed to the right people. Who knew where all that asbestos and lead would end up. However, the demolition crew didn’t have a fun time. The building had many metal structures inside its walls. They would have finished a lot sooner, but the architect Adrian hired was obsessive with the building’s foundations.

“Oh, come on, Manuel, don’t you guys say that if it ain’t broken, don’t fix it?” The foreman of the demolition team was not happy with the architect’s idea of removing the foundations of the building in their entirety.

“That saying comes from engineers, not architects.” Answered Manuel. “And I want those foundations removed; that William guy was mentally challenged; his designs are a mess; there are a lot of weird choices in his building’s after nineteen fifty-five; dig it all up; I don’t trust in those foundations.”

Manuel could not even imagine why Willy filled the walls with a lot of metal parts, some of which were even mobile. There didn’t seem to be a function for them. It seemed like Willy got his hands on a bunch of used metal and decided to just stuff all of it into the building’s walls to give strength to the structure. However, it didn’t serve that purpose; actually, all that loose metal compromised the building’s integrity to some degree.

An hour later, after the heavy machines started digging the building’s foundations, the floor cracked and a hidden underground space was discovered. The collapsing walls made a lot more noise than anyone would expect. The newly discovered room had no exit or entrance; along its walls, there were a lot more of those weird metal structures.

“By god, what the hell was that guy thinking?” Said the foreman.

“I have no idea; he was probably insane. Just dig everything up; I don’t want anything of this building left. Let’s start from zero.” Answered Manuel, he would make it his priority that all of William Argent Palau’s works were examined carefully and, if possible, demolished.

All the men working in there felt a bit uncomfortable during the rest of the day. They were getting goosebumps for no reason.

Unbeknownst to them, a mass of distorted souls had been freed from its prison. Elizabeth was still holding in her soul hundreds of deformed, angry, crazy, and tortured souls. Thanks to the time the munchers spent hiding inside her, she learned many things from them. The munchers had some memories they obtained from their time inside Willy; it was a shame that her own insanity didn’t allow her to understand all of them. However, her hatred towards Willy and the hatred of hundreds of souls allowed them to focus on one thing. Willy’s location. They knew what his plan was, and the other ghosts knew the location of the Atocha Hospital. As soon as the sun went down and the light stopped hurting, a giant, distorted blob of growing body parts ran in a straight line, all united under an intense hatred and desire for vengeance.

The end