A Ghostly Hand...

ooc: So I am looking for a guy who is interested in rping as a ghost. You can create his back story and what he looks like. Didn't really have a solid outline for the rp, but if anyone is interested we can just put the characters together and see what happens!

NOTE: THIS IS A SEXUAL RP. Don't ask how, it's fiction, anything can happen!

Gillian: 18 years old with long red hair and green eyes. Pale skin and very petite. Just moved out of her parents house and living on her own in an old vitorian house that is being rented out near the college that she is planning on attending. Gillian is currently renting out the top half of the house, no one currently lives in the lower section.

ic:

I can't believe how low the rent is in this place as use the old house keys to unlock the door and enter in. My disbelief is slowly eased as I noticed that it looks like it has been quite a while since anyone dusted or cleaned the upstairs... Maybe I should have asked to look at the place before moving in? Hope the bathroom works. The door that leads me into the apartment (upper level of the house) starts with the kitchen. It's tiny but looks fully functional and it is just me so I don't need too much room.

Next I inspect the other rooms. It looks like some of the furniture is still there, just covered under dusty sheets. I enter what looks like a dining room and pull the sheet off of what is a table. Looks almost like the same one at my parents house only smaller and just with three chairs, which is odd, most tables have either two or four chairs.

Moving on to the next room it's where I assume my living room would be. Another sheet is found covering a large sofa, the only piece of furniture in the room. I gasp when I see how gorgeous it looks. Why would the landlord keep this here for the tenants? Surely they could have sold this for some money! Ah well, this just means I don't need to do a lot of furniture shopping.

Behind me is another door and I open it. It is completely empty and I already know what I plan on doing with this room. I close the door behind me. I had no idea how much space I was going to have! My boot covered feet walked across the hardwood floor the whole apartment had going through it until I met with the next door and opened it. I had to take a step up into the room and saw a room with a fire place and an old bed frame, but no bed. That's fine with me, I wouldn't want to sleep in someone else's bed anyway. The bed I have at my parent's however was not going to will that space.

"Add New bed to the check list," I made sure that the bed frame was stable and was pleased that I wasn't going to need to buy a new bed frame. This place was awesome! "Only one room left to check... Most important of all."

The bathroom... I screamed with glee as my eyes laid on a honest to god Clawfoot tub! I dropped my bag and climbed into the tub, still fully clothed in my dark green velvet short sleeved dress and black thin leggings, giggling like crazy, "I am never leaving!" I sigh happily, completely unknown of the invisible eyes that had been following me as I went through the upper level of the house.

He watched silently, no one had heard his voice for 45 years. He wandered the halls behind her as she made her way from room to room, he almost felt a smile, as he did whenever someone new with potential crossed his path. No one stayed, however, not for the past 30 years.

He was tied here since his demise on the missing bed. The mattress had been dragged to the basement, shoved into the crawl space and left to the elements. He relived the experience every night at the same moment, 11:49 pm, the moment he had been attacked. The howl that moved through the old building echoed his pain. Some tenants had felt the oppression of the apartment, knew that instinctively something was wrong. Others knew the history and could not escape the karma of this living space. He wondered if she knew?

Gillian checked her watch and groaned when she saw what time it was. She needed to go to her school and get her class schedule and the list of books she needed. No matter, she would be back tomorrow, moving her things inside and getting settled. Gillian pulled herself out of the tub and took one last look around before heading out.

~*~*~*~*~*~

So it took a few more days before she was fully settled in. Gillian wanted to continue to use the furniture that was left there, for the first thing she and a bunch of her friends and her older sister did was clean the apartment. They dusted and vaccumed (though the lights flickered when they first used the dyson), mopped the floors and even tried to mimmic the scene from Pippy Longstocking by trying to rig brushes on their feet and scrub the floors that way... Didn't quiet workout as well as it did in the movie as they found out. It probably didn't help that the girls thought it would be fun to drink as they cleaned. They got the job done... only not as fast as it would have taken sober.

Next was to organize everything. Putting the new boxspring and mattress in the old bedframe, set up the TV in the living room, putting all the kitchenware in the kitchen. The only room that was not touched was the empty room she found on her first day coming to the house. To have done what she needed she had to wait until her Father sent over the contractors and she needed written permission from the landlord... It was going to be tricky but she planned on being there for a while.

The living room had a bunch of family photos (both parents and herself and two sisters, Gillian in the middle), sitting on the coffee table that used to belong to her grandparents, and the bookshelf that already had a good collection of books and movies sitting on it's shelfs. A black rug was put beneath the couch and coffee table. In the dining room the table and chairs were polished and a table cloth was over the table with a glass vase with some flowers in it. The pantry was bare, she was going to need to fill it when she went to the store tomorrow.

Though the rest of her house said "grown up young adult" her room said something different. Gillian was into the Lolita fashion and lifestyle. The four poster canopy bed was mostly pink and white, covered with pillows and a few stuffed animals. The bedroom came with HUGE closet space, so one half had all her Lolita Fashion, and the other half had normal clothing. In her room was also a computer but the internet had yet to be set up, so for entertainment she had a smaller TV sitting on her dresser.

It seemed like hours before her apartment was finished (as finished as she and her friends and sister were going to get.). The girls stayed for a while, watched a movie and played a round of Apples to Apples. Soon it was nighttime and the girls fell asleep, two girls on the couch, three more on the floor with sleeping bags and Gillian's sister shared the bed with her.

The night was pretty quite... Until Gillian's sister woke up screaming and woke her in the process. "Kristen, what's wrong?!" Sitting up Gillian rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"You didn't see it?" Kristen asked, shaking.

"No... I was sleeping... I think you just had a baddream, go back to sleep." Gillian rolled back over but turned her head as she felt the bed shift and see her sister getting out of the bed. "Kristen... what are you doing?"

"I can't sleep in here,"

Gillian sighed and rolled her eyes and sat up, "Kristen... it's fine... aren't you supposed to be helping me get used to staying in a new place?" Gillian waved for her sister to come back to bed, "Just get back in bed and go to sleep, nothing will happen."

Richard felt himself fading in and out, it was beyond his comprehension, this haunting of the room he had existed in for 3 years. Nothing had changed. The sofa remained, as Richard sought to keep it in place with each and every tenant. He found that his anger translated quickly when he moved through the offender. The last person to stay in the apartment was a man of 30, a mechanic. He had picked up one end of the sofa to gauge it's weight and Richard had occupied the same space - sending a chill deep enough to have him drop the sofa where he stood. Richard wondered if there were long term effects of his actions in the past. He could not leave the walls that surrounded him, so his only news came from the inhabitants of the apartment.

Richard had been angry and confused for years, not certain what kept him here and unable to deal with the emotional devastation of so many years of solitude. He began experimenting on his new residents, one at a time, as they paraded through his kingdom. The couple that rented because they knew the history of the building, thrill seekers in Richard's book. They came with seances, quija board, candles, incense and a mission. They left several weeks later, nervous, exhausted and fearful of unexplained occurences. Richard soon realized that he could infect his human hosts with the same emotions he was feeling, eliciting responses as he exposed them to his anger, his loathing, confusion, even a touch of his madness. It took time to understand that his effect took shape by his physical proximity to the living. He could transfer his feelings quickly by standing inside their physical space. The effect was significantly slower if he touched his victim, or maintained a close distance for an extended period of time.

Richard had also explored other effects of his emotions, allowing more than a few of the female renters to experience his lust. He thought back to the first time he had shared his "feelings" with a member of the living. Rachel was 24, single and living on her own for the first time following a bad relationship. He had long ago given up years prior to her arrival, and by his recollection, she was the 12th resident of the room following his untimely departure. Rachel was not overly attractive, but she did have a penchant for arousing Richard, as each evening before falling asleep, Rachel would turn out the lights, open her bedside drawer and remove her pleasure wand. It was big and bulky, intended for use as a shoulder massage he expected, but Rachel found a perfect use for it between her thighs. It was not her actions that kept his attention near her during each of those nightly episodes, it was the sound of her voice and the raspy breathing that captured him. Her moans sent chills though his spirit and he ached to have physical form to do Rachel's bidding. She called out wildly for a good fuck, a huge dick, someone to suck her overgrown bush. Richard could not understand why he had the affinity, perhaps it was the extended lack of attention to such details, or more importantly, his inability to act on anything physical.

The night that he spent on Rachel's bed, nearly touching her, was the night Rachel left, sending a friend to return for her things. She had screamed violently, and Richard had wrongly inferred that it was his emotions that had helped her experience immense pleasure. Instead, she retreated, naked, into a corner of the room, wailing, calling to God for over 2 hours. The pain he saw, and the fear he understood, she had felt him and was completely unable to process what had happened to her. Rachel was not the last to experience his lust, but she was the only one to endure it for such a period of time. He vowed not to make the same mistake again.


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Gillian was an attractive girl, tall and thin. He wondered what had brought her to this run down apartment. He allowed himself a touch a happiness that he would not be alone for the next few days, maybe even longer. She was industrious, and frugal, having decided to keep as much of the furnishing that existed, including his couch. The influx of all her friends was a problem, he spent the day trying to avoid them all, tethered, as he was to the rooms, so many people meant that someone might detect him.

He watched the girls as they moved through the apartment, feeling like a bullfighter as he swung and danced his way out of their way. As much as he tried, he stepped in the same foot space as Gillian's sister Kristen, and she stared at it for a full minute after. He wondered what the sensation was, like walking through webs in heavy foilage or the tingling of a foot fallen asleep. If Kristen's reaction was an indication, perhaps it was more like Thor's hammer.

Gillian had left his room empty for the time being, so he found escape there, holding his ground as best he could. There was an unnatural attraction to the living. Perhaps because he had been so long here, in limbo. There were no instructions to follow, Richard was forced to interpret and experiment as he attempted to navigate his afterlife.

Richard admired the rooms after the tipsy girls activity began to wind down, nice to see a shine on the hardwood floors. He would have waxed them as well, but he could not be picky, at least Gillian seemed to care about the place. Perhaps she would stay the whole month!

He moved from room to room, looking over the touches of her home that Gillian had painstakingly arranged, a pity that someone else would most likely need to collect it all later. As the cleaning team succumbed to the lack of energy, excess of wine and absence of entertainment, they migrated to seperate areas to sleep. Richard was astounded by Gillian's closet, he had not seen this flair in fashion since digging through photos of his grandparents time. They looked victorian, but new. He struggled with the anacronism and moved to the screen that moved on her desk. It had been 20 years since Richard had seen a computer, and the screens were green and gray, this was full of color. The image moved as though the machine was underwater, Richard had seen Gillian typing her grocery list on the thing earlier, but this was his opportunity to get a closer look. As he moved closer, the screen shimmered and skipped irregularly. Richard soon realized that his own aura was affecting the electric machine, and by moving close enough to it, he could affect the display. It took him the better part of an hour to manipulate it, but he finally found a way to sync with the little machine. It took 10 minutes, but he managed to type "hi" at the bottom of her grocery list, right below fruit.

Kristen had seen the light of the screen, or perhaps the typed word, though he doubted that. He felt her presence without turning and popped the little machine off with his influence. If Kristen had any question, it was answered as the laptop winked out.

"You didn't see it?" Kristen asked, shaking.

"No... I was sleeping... I think you just had a baddream, go back to sleep." Gillian spoke. "Kristen... what are you doing?"

"I can't sleep in here,"

"Kristen... it's fine... aren't you supposed to be helping me get used to staying in a new place? Just get back in bed and go to sleep, nothing will happen."

"Your laptop is typing by itself Gill, and now the damn thing just shut off on it's own. My weirdar is in full effect here, this room, no, this place is giving me the creeps!"

Gillian tried to calm her down, but there was no calming of her sister, she had several of the girls awake and was on her way out the door. It was 11:30, and as the group of girls rallied to placate their shaky sister, the sound of thumping was heard in the area of the stairs, and Richard was dragged down them as he relived his painful last moments yet again.

"Kristen! It's ok..." Gillian tried to calm down her sister, leading her away from the door and towards the dining room. Kristen was shaking and at the brink of crying as the other girls were consoling the older girl. Meanwhile Gillian went back into the tiny kitchen and opened the vintage looking refigerator. Inside was the leftover pizza and some soda that the girl bought earlier. Taking the opened bottle of soda, Gillian grabbed the bag of plastic party cups and found her way into the dining room and started to pour everyone a drink. The tired girl yawned and then took a sip of her own drink before Kelly started talking.

Gillian... This place doesn't give you the creeps?... I mean I know your a fan of vintage looking things... but I just get a weird feeling about this place." Kelly was giving her friend a very concerned look.

Gillian looked around the room and saw that everyone else had seemed to feel the same way and she started to laugh it off, "You guys are kidding me right?... Is this some kind of joke for when you first move out on your own? The last thing I need is to be scared of the boogeyman!"

The other girls tried to explain to her that they could just feel something in the house, something that shouldn't be there and Gillian just kept shaking her head, trying ti deny any thoughts of ghosts or spirits because she never experienced such a thing. "This is silly, I am not going to listen to this. I-"

And there were the sounds of feet... walking up the wooden stairs that lead to the front door. The door was locked and from where they could see, still shut... But there was the sound of a door opening and closing... More steps being taken... softer... slower. Gillian took a step forward but Kelly grabbed the young girl's arms. "Let me go!" Gillian spoke in a hushed yet firm voice and wiggled out of her friend's grasp. The other girls whispered soft pleas for the girl to come back, but Gillian wasn't playing attention. She followed the heavy footsteps, through the kitchen, to the livingroom... and then she found herself taking the single step up and through the doorway into her bedroom.

As her eyes scanned the room, she couldn't help but to feel the horrible feeling of dread. Everything was quiet for a while... And then Gillian could make out the faint vision of two forms. One looked as though it was a man, sleeping on the bed... and the figure standing at the foot... it was unclear if it was male or female (but she assumed male). What she could clearly make out was the weapon within the person's hand. A large hammer. As soon as her eyes landed on the tool, the form took action, getting onto the bed and swinging. Gillian watched in horror as the hammer made contact with the man's head and she swore she could hear the sick cracking sound of his skull. The blood was clearly visible as it splattered along the walls. When the hammer was whipped back, Gillian felt droplets of blood hit her face.

"Stop it..." Her breathing was deepening, and her fingers balling into a fist as the form was still swinging at the defenseless man. "Stop it!" And Gillian ran to the bed, expecting to be able to pull this very angry vision away, but shocked when she just went right through the form and was kneeling on her mattress.

"Gillian?..." Anne was at the doorway, looking scared at her friend. Gillian looked back, looking very confused. Anne managed to pull the distressed girl from the bed and out into the livingroom where the other girls slowly started to gather around the girl who looked like she was in shock. "I think it is safe to say that we should go... If you want Gillian, I will go in there with you to pack what you need... You can call your Dad and I am sure he can get your deposit back."

"I'm not going." Gillian said firmly even though she was still staring out into nothingness. The girls looked at her like she was crazy. "You did not see what I saw."

"We might not have seen it, but we heard it... and we heard you! How can you possibly want to stay here?" Kristen tried to talk some sense into her little sister, but once Gillian made a decision she pretty much stuck with it. "I... I just don't understand Gill..."

Gillian didn't quite understand herself... Staying in a haunted place... living there was a crazy idea... Did she really think she could help whoever this spirit was? Probably not, but still... and what if it was the spirit with the hammer?.... Unlikely since the spirit with the hammer didn't actually die, he or she did the killing. Still, Gillian was not leaving. Only 1 day from living away from Mommy and Daddy, she couldn't go home now like a 5 year old child that asked to sleep between her parents because she had a bad dream.

The girls ended up leaving, not without begging Gillian to come with them. She declined and bid them all goodnight. After she watched everyone drive away, Gillian went to her liquor cabinet (thank god for older sister's) and grabbed the first bottle of whatever and took a drink. She had no idea what it was, other than it burned her throat. Her barefeet padded across the floor, taking her back to her bedroom. Kristen had started it all by waking her up and telling her something was going on with her laptop... So Gillian took a seat and turned the machine back on. She clearly remembered shutting it off. As the computer started to turn on, the Windows logo flickering on, Gillian stretched and jerked her head from side to side, a distinct cracking sound could be heard.

Gillian opened all the windows she remembered she had on her laptop before she and Kristen went to bed. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Then she opened the list she made for when she goes to the store tomorrow. Carrots... Apples... Rice... Hi... Noodles.... Wait, Hi? Gillian glanced at the bottom of the list and sure enough there were the two letters that stood next to one another that spelled the small greeting.

hi

Well... one would assume that this spirit would be friendly... right? Clearly it was trying to communicate, if it didn't want to, then why would it type anything? So Gillian did the only logical thing she could think of and decided to message the spirit back. As her fingers went over the keys she couldn't help but to think of the show that she and her sister would watch as a child, "Ghost Writer", and laugh a little.

Hello, my name is Gillian.

After she wrote her greeting to the poltergeist she waited. A yawn escaped her mouth and she thought she saw the screen flicker. After a few more minutes Gillian shook her head, thinking she was quite silly for thinking that she would get a response... What if the words 'hi' was typed by her sister and then she turned the computer off?... Got the other girls in on the joke?... Slipped a hallucinogenic in her drink to make her imagine everything?... Ok, not that wasn't likely. Still. Gillian got up and went go use the rest room, then back to the kitchen and got a drink. Just simple water. Getting back into her room she glanced at the computer and did a double take. There was a new message left... and Gillian reacted the only way anyone else in that situation would have reacted...

She fainted.

"Kristen! It's ok..." Gillian was trying to calm Kristen down, but her efforts appeared to have little effect.

Gillian was having trouble defending her point of view. Her laugh was almost genuine, "You guys are kidding me right?... Is this some kind of joke for when you first move out on your own? The last thing I need is to be scared of the boogeyman!"

"This is silly, I am not going to listen to this. I-" Gillian was cut off and Richard began to feel himself pulled toward the bedroom. He did not need to be told of the time, and he had long since stopped trying to avoid the painful review of his demise.

The thud of the hammer came down on his skull as he slept, perhaps an instant prior he had awakened, or the force of the blow had awoken him just as he expired. He was oblivious to the cries of the newest occupant of the room. She was trying to stop what could not be undone. He wanted badly to comfort her, reassure her, but his course was continuous and he had his role to play,

The heavy flop of the mattress as it slid off the bed, the assailant using it to pull his lifeless body across the room, bending him into the folds of the mattress as he maneuvered through the door, scouted the hall and eventually slid him down the steps to the landing, like some school age child riding his mattress down the stairs. His lifeless body, an eerie reminder for Richard, of what he had resembled in life.

The figure pulled a knife and pried open the door that lead to the crawl space under the building, it would be days later that he would return and board up the opening. Richard took in every detail, always searching for a clue, a glimpse of something new, to keep his mind occupied, hoping to someday end the ordeal forever. The worn steps, the cracked banister, missing newel post cover at the base of the landing. The frayed green and black rug that protected the floors at the entry door, even the wear of the shoe sole of his attacker – they appeared to be in the shape of a four leaf clover, work boots he expected, but this was a detail he had observed some time ago.

As his body went through the small opening, covered by the mattress, he knew the ordeal would soon return him to the room he had occupied, and as in most cases, an empty room. Pity, he thought, that he might never get the opportunity to see Gillian bathe, change clothing or just spend time with her as she cooked in the tiny kitchen. He wondered if she could cook, what food might taste like these days. He had heard her friends begging Gillian to go, to pack and leave. Richard resigned himself to poor timing, most were fast asleep when the events could be remembered as nightmares or night fever. Few had witnessed what Gillian has seen, and remained in the house longer than the time it took to collect their wallet and watch.


Gill..."

Her friends were departing as Richard materialized in the room. Thankfully his time at the hand of his unknown attacker were over for one more night, he reached out a hand to Gillian, could he calm her?

He tried just to touch her arm, transfer his thanks, perhaps even say goodbye, but he did not sense her confusion. The brief sensation brought to him her sense of justice, her heart and he wondered what had changed. For so long he had struggled to impart his own will upon those living, now, her compassion flooded him.

Gillian was not calm, nothing in her demeanor suggested that she would stay, but stay she did. He watched her move about the apartment, seeing her feet leave their impressions on the hardwood floor. She was leaving her mark, one he hoped would be lasting, for them both. Richard had an odd sensation, could Gillian actually help him?

She turned back to the laptop on her desk and began moving through the items, photos downloaded from her camera earlier, she had not looked at them in detail, did not know what he saw – would she see? He kept his distance, watching her open a game of solitaire, the sight of clubs returning his mind to the soles of the feet of his assailant. Then the Grocery list opened and Richard wondered what she made of it. If the night were normal for her, she might have suspected one of her companions had left the two letters as a smile. But tonight had not been normal for her, far from ordinary. Richard worried that whatever he did, she would flee. Gillian had seen more than enough to drive her away, he knew how fragile she could become if he added more. She was alone now, more susceptible.

Hello, my name is Gillian.

He was surprised as she typed onto a new page. He had not communicated with anyone, not since taking this form. He could not speak, had given up on it years ago. But he had not had this opportunity. Richard began wondering what he should say, if he were able to manipulate the machine.

As she moved away he found himself close to the keyboard, feeling his ability to influence the little machine wane. If he left her any message, it would need to be brief.

Thank you G

She fainted.

He looked down at Gillian, worried that this had taken a toll on her that could not be repaired. He was exhausted, little he could do for some time, the typing was much more difficult, took much more out of him than he had imagined. Coupled with the reenactment of his murder, these manipulations left Richard spent. He could do little for her, but wanted to reassure her in some way.

Richard wanted to lift her to the bed, something his human form would have accomplished without challenge. He resolved to stay with her here, until she awoke, his fingers motioning through her hair, disturbing not even a strand. The sensation changed for him, as his fingers moved carelessly further than he intended and he felt a cloud envelop him. He had experienced this once before, but the sensation had been too foreign for him to wish to continue. Richard floated for a moment in the murky fog until he began to make out impressions. The first image was a little girl, curled in her bed, shaking, the covers pulled up around her and her head buried under a pillow. He did not know why he saw this, but as he moved closer, the fog enveloped the image and another appeared nearby.

This image was Gillian, a year or two younger, but she was in a car, with a guy, speeding down an empty street. He sat silently in the back seat, arriving there after thinking his way. The two were arguing, Gillian was upset that the man was driving recklessly, and when the argument escalated, the man pulled the car over and pulled her out of the car. It was dark and late, there was a quiver to her lip as she made a phone call to a friend.

He was seeing memories, perhaps dreams of hers. Each of them frightening, fragmented, detailed and yet vaguely familiar to most. He dared not try to interact with her here, not now. He backed away, removing his hand from behind her head, the images dissolving to nothing.

He tried not to stare, but even in the wake of a fright, she was a lovely girl. Her cheekbones were high, the pale light through the window gave her skin a porcelain look. Her figure was slight, she would have caused him to look twice when he was alive. Now he stared, unrestricted. His hands moved gently above her slender body, radiating his warmth and attraction along the curves of her body. Richard was surprised when there was a murmer from her mouth, something he had not expected.

duplicate

(still working on this post, I am just getting really tired. Will try to put some more up tomorrow)

Gillian was having a dream of a memory that she had hoped to of forgotten a long time ago. Terri was her boyfriend during her Sophomore year. He was a Senior and had his own car. Terri was also a jerk, controlling, and was constantly pressuring Gillian to push their relationship to the next level. It had been before she really got into the Lolita fashion and was going through more of a goth phase so her attire was a bit more revealing with heavy makeup.

Terri stopped the car at a wooded park, in the middle of the night. The two of them had just left a friends house and Terri had embarrassed Gillian with the lude things he would say to both her and their friends. The car ride consisted of the two of them yelling at each other, but as soon as Gillian told Terri 'Fuck you!' he dropped dead silent and pulled the car over to the side and got out of the car. He went to her door, nearly ripping it off before he roughly grabbed her by her upper arm and pulled her petite body from the car before he was dragging her into the woods

He was seeing memories, perhaps dreams of hers. Each of them frightening, fragmented, detailed and yet vaguely familiar to most. He dared not try to interact with her here, not now. He backed away, removing his hand from behind her head, the images dissolving to nothing.

He tried not to stare, but even in the wake of a fright, she was a lovely girl. Her cheekbones were high; the pale light through the window gave her skin a porcelain look. Her figure was slight; she would have caused him to look twice when he was alive. Now he stared, unrestricted. His hands moved gently above her slender body, radiating his warmth and attraction along the curves of her body. Richard was surprised when there was a murmur from her mouth, something he had not expected.

His hand floated lightly above her skin, he saw the chill forming in the bumps as they rose and fell in a ripple effect. She shivered, unconscious, dreaming of things he was unable to interpret. His hand ventured to her neck, smooth, creamy skin beneath his transparent fingers. The same wave of chill rose as his movement continued. She was not cold, unafraid now, rolling in a sea of sensation without a discernable source.

Richard wanted more with Gillian, but the desire was not new. His actions were as responsible for ousting former tenants, as was the sheer oddity of the location, the physical remembrances of this building as it suffered with him each night. Gillian was somehow different, or at least projected a difference for them, those that would have her leave.

His hands moved lower, Richard felt devilish now, watching her nipples puff up under the slight fabric of her tank top. He worried about the chill he was creating, Gillian had not had time to toss on a robe, summer or not, the place had always been drafty at night. He could not image that age had corrected that issue. This did not stop him from wanting to see the swell continue, nor did it ease his desire to do more than arouse the sensitive peaks of her demure breasts. His hand circled, the sensation rotating across both breasts, sending her hard little nipple up to meet the fabric, jutting like fresh sprouts about to break free. His reward, as her lips parted, a soft, audible moan. Electric shocks went off in his head, as his own passion surfaced. His hands moved over her plump nipples, Richard began to think about what his flesh would have enjoyed with hers, and he watched her body writhe a bit under his ethereal touch.

As his fingers descended, his spirit grazing her, he felt the shock of his excitement enter her, passing through his fingertips and moving effortlessly into the lovely coed. Gillian’s eyes fluttered as she intimated a return to consciousness, but remained sedate. Had she ever feigned sleep in the same manner? She was so young, he doubted she had experienced the playful ways of lovemaking; painful arousal, exquisite denial. If boys of her age had been accepted, most would be too involved in their own gratification to give her all she deserved.

Richard’s hands had moved away, he considered her response to being woken by the lechery that was currently foremost in his mind. He did not hesitate to return to her, however, as he began to luxuriously move along the length of her body. Slowly stretching his hands along her cheeks, along the curve of her slender neck, slipping down the curves of her shoulders, moving along the curve of her waist, the almost non-existent curve of her hips, caressing her thighs and moving along her ankles. He did not try to transfer his lust, but he knew it was there to see, for her to feel, and he had abandoned any effort to disguise it.

When he arrived at her feet, intent on moving back up her body, Richard noticed the slight rock of her body. Something was happening inside her, it pleased him that she was enjoying the attention, even if when she woke, she had no recollection. His spirited flesh began to retrace it’s path down, moving up along her delicate skin, careful to stay just above her rippling response, wanting to stay hidden for now in the cloak of Gillian’s darkness. If he had his way, she would be naked now beneath him, willing him to do anything he wished. But Richard would also want to be in flesh, feel the sensation of touch, the tenderness of a kiss, the passion of an embrace and yes, the sensuality of penetration of this beautiful woman.

Richard continued to fantasize as he moved along her body. He wanted her to know, would want her to know in the future – would that ever be possible? His carnal lust reached a deeper, more animal quality as his hands now moved to contact with her flesh. He knew that this could wake her, most likely would wake her, but he wanted to leave a lasting impression as he moved like heavy air across her trembling body. Richard imparted his thoughts to Gillian, stripping her bare before him, sucking her sweet, pearl-like nipples, biting them with abandon as he savagely took her for his pleasure. He wanted to leave an impression as he pushed with vigor in and out of her. There was a sense of freedom as he watched Gillian respond to the force of his thoughts. A blur of white hot light burned in him as he moved across her, his body prone against hers, as he lowered his mind, his essence and craving to meet hers.

He had not been close enough to experience this before, but the wrench of orgasm took him as he merged with Gillian there. He felt the sensation twist him wildly as Gillian was taken by the overwhelming conclusion of his desire. Richard was no longer observing, he was feeling the bucking in his loins, the spray of pleasure as it shot to every inch of him. He was cumming with her, so hard, and she was feeling him cum with her. The intensity thrilled him, scared him, as he knew in that instant that he would not be satisfied with experiencing this once. He was addicted and captured – the sensations, the thoughts, transferred to Gillian. As he lifted himself up, pulling from her daze, he knew she was awake, confused and most likely chilled from the wetness he could see drenching her tight pajama bottoms.

The nightmare that Gillian was having quickly shifted to something else. There was a man she had never met before. He was caressing her face and she felt very calm and safe as she was looking up at him. Her body shuddered as what felt like cold fingers travel from her neck to her shoulders... grazing the slight curve of her breasts until his hands completely covered them. A gentle squeezing sensation could be felt and a soft groan escaped her lips that she licked both in her dream and in the real world.

This was all very strange to her. It seemed like no matter where he touched her it was effecting her inexperienced body and she couldn't get up and move... All she could do was lay there and arch her back and quiver to the attention that was given to her body. As Richard was going further, Gillian was slowly waking up and not realizing it. Her hands were traveling over the same areas that Richard's had, mimicking everything with her hands grabbing and touching herself through her clothing. Gillian's gasps and sighs of pleasure were reaching his spirit ears, driving him on further.

With Gillian on the floor, her legs were spread wide, her body was getting closer to release with every image Richard was pushing in her head. She could feel him thrusting in and out of her with abandonment. She couldn't take it anymore and just when she could swear she felt something shooting inside of her she came longer and harder than her fingers had ever made her cum before.

Slowly her body was relaxing and going limp on the floor. Her chest was rising and falling and with every breath out she would see her hair moving through the slits of her eyes. Slowly her mind cleared and she realized she was awake. Her body was still trembling and she managed to roll onto her side, noticing how wet her pants were.

"What just happened?" She thought to herself. She was scared and confused (more confused though) and she slowly started to pull herself up. She couldn't go to be covered in sweat and her own.... excitement. Grabbing clean clothing she made her way to the bathroom and started to run the tub water. She kept going back to the very vivid dream... which of course the thought that the ghost in her apartment was the cause of that... but she never heard of ghosts trying to have sex with people... and she wasn't even sure if that was what happened.

Once she was naked, she made her way into the large tub. Her small body fit inside of it perfectly and could even sink down completely until her head was under water. It was something she always did as a child. Gillian would lay flat on the floor of the tub and then she would open her eyes and look through the water. Funny how in movies when one person would look through the water it was clear and you could see everything just fine but if you really did it it was blurry (mostly blurry). So she opened her eyes and she could make up the vision of the ceiling... the light... The form of a crazy derranged man swinging a hammer at her.

In that second, Gillian tried to scream under water and ended up gasping and coughing the liquid up after she finally flung her upper body up. Panting, her eyes looked around, terrified. The form of the man that she just saw a few seconds ago were now gone but she was still shaking in the tub, trying to keep from crying. Gillian needed to calm down, she was just having a small episode from what happened earlier when she saw that horrible scene... She thought she almost forgot about it all...

The next few days the house was strangely quietly...And by quiet she meant that there were not any more episodes (or at least she wasn't awake for them). Every creek she heard made her jump, and so when she would study she put on her headphones to block out distractions.... Though there were other things that were sending shivers down her spine every once in a while. When she would put her glass of lemonade on one side of the coffee table, the glass would find it's way on the other side when she wanted another sip. She tried to convince herself that she just put it on the other side without thinking. It had been almost a week since she used her laptop... Though the spirit that tapped on her keyboard she felt wasn't threatening... But then there were other times she had this feeling of something staring at her... like a hungry lion at it's prey.... She only got that feeling though when she sat in the livingroom though for a long period of time.

The feeling would stay with her until she made her way back into her bedroom, her eyes landing on the laptop that was closed and collecting dust. As soon as she walked into the mostly pink room she felt... well Safe was the only word that came to her mind. Gillian walked over to her laptop... She should email her family and friends... let them know she was doing ok... Gillian picked up her laptop from the desk and took it onto her bed with her, laying back on her cool pillows.

Soon Gillian was surfing the internet and sending messages to her friends and talking to her mom online. Her mom was also concerned, telling her how Kristen reacted to staying with Gillian after setting up her apartment. Gillian told her mom there was really nothing to worry about, and that was the end of it. After getting some more studying done, Gillian turned the TV that was in her room on, putting on an old black and white movie that was on the TCM channel. She never caught the beginning, so most of the time she never knew what the titles were to her favorite old movie. She did know the name of the movie that was playing right now, Singing In The Rain.

The laptop was still on her bed as she was cuddling her large pillow... that was still oddly cool feeling, but she didn't really question it as it was still rather warm in her room during the evening. As she was watching the movie her eyes were getting tired, and the last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the slight feeling of someone running their fingers through her hair...

Gillian started to dream that she wasn't alone on the bed. She was spooning with someone, but she didn't turn her head to look at who it was, not really feeling threatened enough to feel the need to see who it was. Whoever they were, she could feel one arm around her waist, and hands running through her hair. It was very calm and Gillian could feel her body relaxing more and more. Soon her long red hair was pulled away from her neck, exposing the skin to more than just the air. Lips found their way on her neck and she sighed softly.

Everything that was happening in her dream was being influenced by Richard's desire to touch and please Gillian, as well as to comfort her. It had been a few days since their last encounter and Richard was anxious for more and now was probably the best time. It was amazing, Gillian seemed to react to just the thought of what he wanted to do to her. The movie she had put on was long forgotten as soon as she went to sleep.

Back to Gillian's dream, hands were caressing and fondling her body. Every touch was getting a response from her. It was like whoever was touching her already knew her most sensative spots (some she didn't even know about. Gillian turned around till she was facing the mystery man... It was someone she didn't recognize, yet at the same time she very like they were very familiar to her. Being a dream, a lust filled one at that, she kissed him softly and slowly the kiss became more passionate as the strange man moved over top of her.

It wasn't long before the two of them were naked, never is when your dreaming. Instead of just jumping right to sex, the man was touching her EVERYWHERE and sometimes he would tease her, licking around her nipple but never taking it into his mouth when she wanted him to, even though she would softly beg him to. She could tell he was enjoying how she reacted to his touch.

"W-what do I," She purred softly as he lifted her leg and let his tongue trail along her inner thigh. It was strange, every touch he gave her felt cool, but still gave the same effects another's would have (if not stronger). Gillian attempted to finish her question, "What do I call you?"

Richard was not prepared for her question, he had not communicated directly with Gillian since typing on her laptop when she first arrived. He chose instead to flood her mind with images, fearing that one way or another, he would frighten her away as he had her friends on that first night. The state was dreamlike for Richard, but he responded to Gillian’s warmth and cravings as his hands moved along her body, the flicker his shadow as he moved along her flesh. He wanted so to be more than a ghostly apparition to her, but Richard could not feel the spasms of his own erection, instead he felt a rising impatience, the urging of Gillian as she approached her own wet spread of cum. He concentrated his attention on her thighs, as he willed her to feel the sensations he could not perform. His tongue thick on her moist inner thighs, scraping his taste buds against her engorged flowering clit, his fingers dug deep into the flesh of her tight ass, summoning her flesh to part and make way for him.

The image would have appeared surreal, his body sinking into hers. Not the act, but the contortion of his spirit as his legs melted into hers. The tingle of flesh he experiences as his feathery form merged with hers to the waist. Richard felt the urges of Gillian, her desire and demand to cum. Had he been able to pound her physically, he was certain she would be cumming now, but he could not, and the thoughts of being unable had barred her peaceful crescendo, his muddy mind conflicted. He turned to her and saw the furrow of her brow, her slumber almost interrupted as her consciousness threatened to end their encounter.

Richard cleared his mind and began to send the pulses of rhythmic stroking through her body, no longer affected by his physical absence. He knew that any man would be thrilled to be able to pleasure his woman to this degree, and he so wanted her to feel just that. The tension spread through her body and Richard began to feel the warm and light spread through her as her pussy soaked the bed with what was to be a wrenching orgasm. He wanted her to cum, hard and long, determined to keep Gillian happy and content in his control.

Richard found himself able to send multiple messages to Gillian, and as he touched her, blending his form with hers, he layered sensation after sensation. His hands were on her breasts, a phantom mouth sucking both nipples simultaneously. She could be feeling overwhelmed, but Gillian responded as he continued to provide more and more stimulation. His mouth remained on both nipples, as he impressed his tongue on her thighs, her clit and finally, flicking madly at her aroused sex, Richard pressed fingers and a hard cock deep between her drenched pussy lips. As she came, her body tensing, stiff, fluttering around his absent fleshy hardness, Richard soothed her, replacing her racing brain waves with the images he desired for her, only his actions, only his attention, only for her pleasure. The waves continued as Richard assisted in stimulating her senses. His mouth lowered to her lips as she murmured, “Who are you?”

When Gillian finally woke, she found that her nightgown had managed to make it up past her waist. Slowly she sat up in her bed, finding her laptop was still on. She opened it and found the essay she had been working on the night before. Saving it quickly before doing something silly and losing all of her work, Gillian got up and went to the kitchen. Half way to the kitchen she noticed how tight and moist her panties felt, and she blushed as she remembered the dream she had the night before. What was causing her to have these vivid dreams? She didn't know. All she knew was that it was the same man as before.

Once she was in the kitchen, Gillian had put a pot of water on to boil and got herself a mug and made herself some toast and jam. Finding the Lady Grey tea bags, she made herself some tea and put on the News on the tiny little TV that she brought home from her parents place that was sitting on her kitchen counter. Gillian sighed as she saw that there were going to be thunder storms tonight. Normally, storms did not bother her, but living here... she wondered if anything strange would happen, stranger than what normally happens.

After breakfast, Gillian turned off the TV and went to her room to print the paper she wrote last night. Gillian had failed to look at her paper one last time before printing it, as she didn't add anything to it from when she saved it. As it printed she pulled out a yellow Lolita styled sun dress and dressed herself, brushed and styled her hair and then packed her stuff up for school. Just in case the storm started earlier, she took her umbrella.

"I'll be home later," She called out to no one really, as it was just her living there. Even though the night her friends stayed with her she gave herself every logical explanation that happened, she still felt some kind of presence in her apartment, sometimes it was a good feeling... and others not so much. Gillian was careful to completely luck the place. Lately there had been a few break ins and she didn't want her place to be next.

School had gone on without much problems, she turned in her paper and went to the new cafeteria for lunch. That was where one of the boys from her History class had approached her. He was pretty sweet, introduced himself. He said his name was Dide and he had dark olive skin and shaggy black hair. They talked for a while, mostly about class, and her taste in fashion, as one of the things he noticed about her was the way she had been dressed. They exchanged phone numbers, their excuse being that if the other had been missing from class they could get together and exchanged notes.

Boys was new territory for Gillian. So new that she had completely missed that Dide had been flirting with her. A smile was on her face the rest of the day, and stayed that way long after she got home, a soft humming tune coming from her as she cooked dinner. Taking the food in the Livingroom, she sat on the couch. Looking for the remote she tried to check on the coffee table... wasn't there. Then she started to dig around the couch, thinking that maybe it had gone between the cushions. As she was hunting, her fingers brushed against something she was not expecting. Grasping it, she gently pulled it out.

What Gillian had found was a picture. It was a very old picture, with three people in it. Two men, and one woman. Looking at the faces of the men, the one she knew to be from her dream that she had been having lately. Her cheeks blushed. She had been fantasizing over a dead man? The woman she didn't know who she was... but felt like she should know her from somewhere. Then the man on the other side of her... There was a sickening feeling in her stomach as she looked at that man and goosebumps started to form on the back of her neck. Turning the picture over, she saw Three names.

Richard, Violet, and Randy

Thinking back to the message she had started to receive on her computer, all she could think about what the 'R' that had been written... Was the ghost Richard or Randy? And if so, what did they want? Gillian put the picture down on the coffee table and finally found the remote and turned on the tv, trying to tune out her uneasy thoughts.

Richard watched as Gillian struggled with her gown, pulling it down, complicated by her own excitement as it had sealed a section of her hem to the waistband of her pale pink nightgown. He smiled as she adjusted her once soaked apparel and wondered if he saw a blush of sorts cross her cheeks. He hoped her mind was on her dreams, but only enough to keep her dampness continuing… he did not want her to feel frightened as she drifted to sleep. herself some tea and put on the News on the tiny little TV that she brought home from her parents place that was sitting on her kitchen counter. Gillian sighed as she saw that there were going to be thunder storms tonight. Normally, storms did not bother her, but living here... she wondered if anything strange would happen, stranger than what normally happens.

"I'll be home later," Richard did not know how to respond! She he toss a paper to her, have the door gently open behind her? He couldn’t perform any tricks of the sort, so he was left to wonder what the day, and especially the evening might bring. He wandered the apartment, taking inventory of her possessions, her photos, her life as she displayed it. Richard was charmed by her, but in an instant he placed that aside, how many men in her life must have looked at her with the same desire that Gillian would never see from him? This was the road he dared not go down. Gillian had remained when others had eagerly run for their lives. She had interacted, even sought him out, asking, probing, wanting to know what she was experiencing. He would not jeopardize the intimacies they shared, even if he selfishly wished for them to continue, no matter the risk.

Richard peered over her shoulder as Gillian’s return took him from gratitude to fury as she found the picture of he and Violet, his sweet loving wife, and inevitably the photo of Randy. He was seething to see the man who had done him in, immediately fearing he might be putting Gillian at risk as well. The temperature in the room dropped violently as Richard not only relived the moment that Violet had left his life, not wanting her ex, Randy, to cause problems for them, she had tried to take her problems away from Richard, tried to take Randy on a new trail.

Randy had been only too glad to tell Richard of Violet’s fate, at his hands, one Richard was to share all too soon. Part of Richard welcomed the violence, then end, hoping that he might see Violet again. Now, his killer was loose, his bride gone, and his attention was on a young girl who inhabited his old world, in a new day. He felt embarrassed by his actions, by his lust for this virgin in his ghostly life. Still, he could not stop his desires – as he looked at Gillian, he saw a change in her expression. She had felt the change in the room, her TV had gone to snow, and Richard was shocked that a scene from his memory seemed to be playing out against the foggy background blur on the screen.

“Richard, I can’t stay, he will come after me and I cannot allow him to destroy us, even if I have to draw him in another direction. It’s because I love you, not because I don’t! Please understand…”

Violet’s words echoed in his mind. The life force, his energy spent, Richard dissolved once more, unaware of his surroundings. He did not hear Gillian as she whispered her question.

“So you are Richard?”

The comment hung in the air, unanswered, as the TV faded back in. Gillian shivered as she touched the photos.

Gillian had seen the the fuzzy screen and watched the figures... even heard the sound of a woman... Why did it sound so strange to hear her voice? Well the whole situation was strange. Gillian got up and turned the TV off. The apartment felt cold. Did her questions upset him? It had been a long day and Gillian was feeling tired, but she had so much schoolwork she needed to work on. Tilting her head from side to side, she heard a satisfying cracking sound and then took her books into her room.

If Richard did not guess before, Gillian was going to school for fashion design. While sitting on her bed she started to sketch out different ideas for outfits, some of them Lolita themed and others not so much. Gillian sketched a lot the night before and the next day she had a free day and stayed home pulling out her sewing machine from some of the boxes that she had yet to unpack. Gillian actually had the old picture stuck on her mirror, the part with Randy she folded over, so only Richard and Violet could be seen. She wasn't sure why she did it, she had done it without thinking.

At some point in the day, Gillian had wondered how she could more easily communicate with Richard... if it was in fact Richard. This was the last thought she had before laying on her bed and closing her eyes before she fell asleep.

There was some sort of connection, his energy and the electrical impulses of the computer, the television and the rooms he occupied in his physical life prior. Gillian had seen images on the screen, his communication directly, but he had never attempted to speak to her. He was out of practice, had not spoke or even tried to do so, as his mind seemed more capable of delivering images or sensory telepath. He wanted more with Gillian, something tangible, aside from the imagery of his thoughts. Richard wondered if there was a way to speak to her in her dreams, the prospect of communicating with her while she was awake might well involve merging himself with her physically, something unnatural during her deep sleep, but the stimulation while awake might well be the end of their time. It could prove too much for both of them to handle mentally.

As Richard watched over Gillian, his hand lay near hers. He could almost see the waves of charge spark between their fingers. It amazed him that this talented young woman had such an effect. It not only soothed him, but aroused his base instincts. Richard looked around the room, seeing the mix of her personal taste in her designs, her decorating, and her choice of sleep attire. His presence moved through the room and stared at pictures of she and her friends and family, trinkets and jewelry. He was fascinated by her wardrobe, several of Gillian’s dresses seemed to draw inspiration from much older fashion, his lack of a sense of touch made examining by sight all the more compelling. She was an odd mix, this young college woman. Her designs and these gowns seemed to scream conservative and demure, but there was an element in all of them that also demanded attention.

As he returned to Gillian, he could see the heavy breathing and rapid eye movement that signaled her sleep patterns. Richard moved his hands inches from her forehead and hair, wanting in some fashion to experience the touch and feel of her skin, her hair. He might never be able to feel the sensation of his skin on hers, but he wanted desperately to feel the sensation of the velvet softness of her lips, her cheek pressed to his, the smell of her hair – so many losses since being relegated to walk the bare rooms of his old apartment as a visitor.

Gillian drew his attention in, almost as if she was waiting for him. She did not turn immediately, but held out her hand, beckoning him to take it and follow her. Richard collected his thoughts and took her hand in their dream, following her mind. She turned to speak, but there were no words, only thoughts. “This is where I go to get away.”

Questions brewed in his head – did she mean she came to her dreams to get away? Or was she about to show him something that she wanted to share with him? He leaned in and without protest, kissed her gently, welcoming the insight into her life.

He had left his imprint, watched her leave and wondered, would someone new ever grave the small apartment again and set him free...