[Story] The World From The Other Side

[Willowfern]

The World From The Other Side
Willowfern
August 21st, 2021 - [Date Finished]

 

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Prologue

The black cat's icy blue eyes glowed eerily in the light from the flickering gas lamps on the street as it stared into the window, its tail flicked with impatience.
A smokey blue haze drifted to the cat and took the form of a man,
"Patience, Draven," Murmured the Blue Man, seeing the cat's impatience, "Friend, you act almost as if you eager for these things."
The black cat's head snapped towards the man, his eyes narrowed with frustration,
"I'm not eager for this, I just want this over with..." He glanced uncertainly into the window, "Are you sure Morrigan isn't mistaken?"
The Blue Man nodded grimly, "I'm sure Draven, Morrigan has never been wrong."
Draven sighed, "Yes, you're right, it's just..." He glanced once more at the window as the sun rose behind him, "...hard."
The Blue Man nodded and patted Draven on the head, "I get it..." He started to become paler and paler, "I need to go now Draven, don't want to be seen, see you tonight!" He added cheerfully, "Looking forward to your report!"
Despite waving back at the Blue Man as he dissapeared and smiling, Draven's mood only soured,
Of course, my report, He thought glumly, Those spirits will be expecting something interesting.
He looked in the window, letting a sigh come from his nose.
Well, the humans will be awake soon, I should get going.
Almost as if by some sort of magic, the cat's eyes changed from icy blue, to a natural dull blue color, and he leapt from the fence he sat upon.
"It's days like these that I wish ol' blue had left me in that gutter..." He muttered, before disappearing into the bushes beside the house.

Chapter One

15-year-old Victor's eyes flew open, he glanced at his watch, it was hanging from his bedside table,
"By God I'm late!" He cried, leaping out of bed and hastily throwing on his clothes.
Skidding into the kitchen, where his Mother stood in her apron, making a breakfast of bacon and eggs, Victor pecked her on the cheek and was about to dash out the door, when his Mother called for him.
"Victor! You need to eat!" She cried.
"No time!" Replied Victor quickly, "I need to get to school!" With that said, he slammed the door to the house and leapt atop his bicycle, racing down the road to the school, where the last few students were trickling into the building.
"Oh no!" He said, worry emploding inside of him, "I can't be late again!"
Without thinking about the consequences, he went right through the middle of the street on his bicycle, desprate not to be late.
Soon enough being late to school would be the least of his worries.
Suddenly, as Victor zoomed towards the school, there was the sound of a blaring horn, a scream that might have been his own, and a automobile came barreling down upon him, too close to stop in time. There was a loud crashing sound as Victor felt everything swirling as he was thrown across the street, screeching noises dominated as Victor's mind blanked for moments at a time, he felt hot and cold at the same time, he couldn't move, he could speak, he couldn't do anything except for watch through rapidly clouding eyes as a tubby man dashed out of the automobile, his face screwed up in terror and intense regret.
"Boy! Boy!" He yelled, picking up Victor by the shoulders as the boy's head lolled from side to side, "Oh God! I've killed him! Someone help! Somebody please, please help!"
But nobody helped, they just gathered around, eyes popping from their heads, tittering with fright at the sight of the dying boy.
Throughout all of this, Victor was oblivious, as his vision was dimming, his hearing was leaving him, and he felt so.. so... oh what was that word again...
...
Victor blinked open his eyes, he was laying in the middle of the empty street, rain was coming down and it had soaked his clothes, his head pounded, and he felt slightly as if he wasn't all there, he groaned closing his eyes to hopefully numb the pain somehow.
Why was he in the street anyway? What had happened to cause him to end up here, soaked to the bone, all alone in the middle of the street?
All Victor remembered was the screech of slamming breaks... the pain, and then the emptiness... and... blood... lots of it... but even those memories were muddled in Victor's head, and he rubbed it, as if hoping to kickstart those memories.
So much confusion welled up inside of him, so much uncertainty... he doubted he could stand up right now to retrieve his bicycle and go home...
"There will be no going home, Victor Stevenson."
Victor's eyes snapped open again, in front of him was a black cat, its eyes an unusual shade of blue,
"Wh-what? Did you just t-t-talk?" He stuttered, his voice hoarse.
The cat nodded, "Draven, Collector and Guide at your service," He offered Victor a smile, did cats smile? Did they talk either? Victor was so confused, he was imagining talking, smiling cats now!
Deciding to humor this strange, no doubt trauma-induced hallucination, he asked, "Collector? Guide?"
"Collector and Guide of new spirits, obviously," Draven said, rolling his eyes, "Now come along, Morrigan is expecting you," He added.
"New spirits? Morrigan?"
"You're not the sharpest axe in the head are you?" Draven grumbled, "Yes, new spirits, you, Morrigan, my boss."
Not even mentioning the strange anology Draven used, Victor flew right into what he thought was the most pressing thing, "A spirit? Me?! You're joking! Spirits are... ghosts, right?? I'm not dead!"
Draven looked at Victor, his face pulling into a pitying frown, "I'm afraid you are. Dead, that is. That poor sap who ran you down didn't get you to the hospital in time, spent too much time freaking out... Of course, Morrigan predicted this," He sighed, "She never is wrong."
"N-no!" Victor exclaimed, hauling himself into a crouch, his headache failing to ebb away, "Ghosts aren't real! Much less am I one!"
Draven stared into Victor's eyes, "Look at yourself, Victor, and tell me ghosts aren't real."
Victor slowly looked down at himself, and let out a scream, his skin was deathly pale with a blue tinge, and as he pulled down a piece of hair to examine it, he was terrified to see that it was completely blue. Even worse, he could see the faint outline of the cobblestone street through himself,
"I-I'm a ghost!" He stammered, fear rushing through him, "I'm dead! I can't be dead! Mom will be heartbroken! She'll write Dad in France and-and... I just can't be dead!"
Draven watched him through eyes clouded with pain for the youngster, who hadn't even lived enough to be ready to die,
"I know this is horrible for you, Victor," He cleared his throat slowly, awkwardly, "But we really need to-to get to Morrigan, she's waiting and... I have to give my report soon..."
Victor crumbled to the ground, grief engulfing him, "I'm not leaving this spot, ever!"
Draven started to get a tad worried, he couldn't let Victor stay here, so many ghosts refused other Collectors and Guides, but never Draven! Draven had a 100% success rate with spirits, he had never left one behind!
"Now Victor," Draven started, slowly, nervously, "You have to come with me, you'll be safer, you won't be safe- or happy- as a wandering spirit, where I'm taking you, it's a good place, comfortable, nice, and you can... you can see your parents from there too..."
Victor shot up, "Really?! I can see Dad? Mom?"
Draven nodded, "Yes, I promise you you'll see them again, just follow me, please."
Victor staggered to his feet, his head a splitting headache, "Okay, fine, I'll come with you," He said quickly, wiping his tears hastily from his eyes and cheeks, sniffing.
Draven let out a sigh of relief, "Alright, let's go, no time to lose!" He dashed off across the road, tail streaming behind him, and ghost boy following close behind.

Chapter Two

"The train station?" Victor asked, staring at the run down platform that, at one time, had been a bustling train station, but had been abandoned when a newer, better one was built, "It's deserted no trains come through here."
Draven smiled, "You say that like you're not a ghost," He hopped onto the platform and went to the ticket booth, Victor following him. When the cat reached the booth, he leapt on top of it saying,
"Two tickets to New York please."
Victor was surprised to see a spirit in the booth, who gave him a nod and handed Draven two blue tickets, which the cat nosed to Victor to hold.
"Thank you Sir," Draven purred politely, hopping down from the booth and padding to a cracked bench that creaked under even his weight.
Sitting down next to the cat, Victor was surprised that the bench didn't utter a single creak.
"Draven...?"
"You're a ghost, remember? You're weightless now," Draven chuckled, "You'd think that'd be common knowledge," He added with a murmur.
"Yeah..." Sighed Victor, still finding it hard to believe he was actually dead.
They sat in silence for a while, rain tapping lighter and lighter on the tin roof of the platform, when there was a sudden rumble that caused the whole station to shudder violently, almost tossing Victor to the floor, while Draven sat still, unruffled,
"Well! that's our train!" The cat said cheerfully, lightly dismounting from the bench, "Come along Victor!"
Victor stared at the train tracks, there was no train in sight, "Er... Draven, there's no train here."
Darven rolled his eyes, "Well, you can't see it obviously!" He stated it like it was a well known fact.
Nonetheless, Victor followed his Guide to the edge of the platform.
"Alright... so how do we-" Victor was cut off when the inside of a train door almost slapped him in the face.
A tall ghost emerged from the train, he tipped his hat to Draven and made a tsking sound at Victor before dissapearing.
"Wh-what-" Gaped Victor, "He dissapeared!"
"Well yeah!" Draven said, walking into the train and beckoning the ghost boy to follow, "He doesn't want to be seen by humans, that might cause a problem."
Victor got into the train, and was deeply surprised by the amount of ghosts, and cats in the carriage, all who looked bored and were reading newspapers or chatting, completely oblivious to Victor's appearance in the train.
"Come on, let's find an open compartment," Draven said, tugging at his pant leg.
Victor nodded and followed Draven as he peered into compartment after compartment before letting out a trilling noise and padding right into one,
"Gina!" He purred, leaping on top of a seat next to a pretty calico she-cat who sported the same color eyes, "Long time no see!"
The calico smiled, "Indeed! Who's your friend here, Draven?"
"Uh... hello," Said Victor, looking at Gina.
"New spirit, Morrigan predicted his death today," Draven said, settling into the seat as the train lurched forward, tossing Victor into the seat opposite of the two cats, "I'm taking him back to the hauntel so that he can get settled into his new life- er, death, as a ghost."
"A little clumsy, huh?" Giggled Gina, watching Victor rock from side to side as the train made strange twists and turns that would cause any normal person to fall over, "I'll be at the hauntel tonight, maybe I'll drop in to listen to your report, I'm sure it'll be interesting, since young spirits are pretty rare, especially in such a safe place as his town."
Draven nodded, "Yeah, his death was easily avoidable though..." His eyes flickered with sorrow for a moment, "...anyway, what brings you to town though, Gina?"
Gina started to talk about why she was headed to New York, when Victor interrupted her,
"Why do all the cats here have blue eyes?" He asked, having seen blue-eyed cat after blue-eyed cat pass by the compartment.
Draven rolled his eyes playfully at Gina before answering, "Every cat that has blue eyes has the power to travel between worlds," He said, "Which is why kittens are born with blue eyes, as they come from the other side into the next," he explained, "Once they get older though, the color fades... unless something happens to you," He tapped his tail uncertainly against the leather seat, "If a cat dies and a passing spirit from the hauntel sees, they will be ressurected if they agree to take on the power of the blue-eyes and work as a messenger for the hauntel," He straightened up as he added another bit, "And from messenger, a cat can work their way up to a Collector and Guide, which is an honor, mind you."
Still a bit confused, Victor nodded, "Okay... so Gina, are you a Collector and Guide?"
Gina chuckled lightly, "I'm in training for it! Which is why I'm headed to New York, to meet my instructer."
Draven smiled at this, "Good for you Gina!"
Gina blushed, "Why thank you Draven."
Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting screech as the train slammed to a stop, throwing Victor onto the floor, while the cats sat and stared.
"Well, were here!" Draven announced, looking out the window, "Come along Victor, we must get there before sunset!" He turned to Gina, "Will you be joining us?"
Gina shook her head, leaping down from the seat, "No, I have a bit of an assignment to do before I head to the hauntel," She sighed, "I'd love to join you though, but I can't sorry."
"That's fine!" Draven meowed, jumping on top of the back of Victor's head as Victor stuggled to stand back up, "Hurry up, we mustn't be late!"
Draven jogged out of the compartment, Victor straggling behind him.
Draven went down the stairs and into the main part of the platform, foot tapping impatiently.
Victor landed shakily beside the cat, seeing that they were in another run-down train station, he frowned.
"So where exactly is the hauntel?" He murmured, glancing around uncertainly.
Draven guestured with his tail to the cityscape only a little ways away, "You enter through the basement of one of the older buildings in the heart of the city," He said, "We'll catch a cab."
"But I'm a ghost, you're a cat, I hardly doubt we could hail a cab."
Draven stared sternly at him, "You are sincerely misjudging the people of New York, they don't notice anything," He padded off of the platform and to the side of the street, "Go on now, hail a cab, we don't have all year!"
Nervously, Victor hailed a cab, and it arrived quickly, fumes circling around the back of it, a portly cabby leaned out the window, puffing a havana cigar,
"'Ome on then," He said, his accent a bit Irish, "Get in now, where to?"
Victor got in the back holding Draven, "Erm..." He shot a nervous glance at Draven, not knowing where to go.
"The Chrysler Building, please sir, get there fast and you've earned yourself a handsome tip," Draven said, curling up on the backseat of the cab.
"You a toures' then, mate?" The cabbie asked, blowing rings of smoke from his mouth, "'spected as much, as yer hair is not something I'e e'er seen 'round 'ere," He said, obviously trying to make conversation, "Ha'nt seen many toures's si'ce th' war began, so you'll 'ave a nice clear veiw I 'spect."
"Er... yeah, okay," Victor replied distractedly, watching buildings zoom by.
"'M, yeah, you'll be th' third pers' I'e seen in my 'hole career tha's got 'air li'e tha' mate," The cabbie tapped his cigar out the window, "O'er two wer't much o' talkies either," His voice dropped to dissapointment, "Aske' 'em 'bou' them's 'air, they di'n' li'e tha fer some reas'n, thou' still tipp' 'e well, so tha's good, oi?"
"Yes, I 'spect so- I mean, I would expect so, yeah," Victor corrected himself, much to sniggers from Draven.
The cabbie talked and talked the whole while until they reached their destination, where Victor promptly paid him and baid him farewell.
"He was a talker, huh Victor?" Draven chuckled, "Rather funny man."
Victor nodded, "Mhm," He looked up at the large building in front of him, "So Draven... where the hauntel?"
Draven smiled, padding across an empty street to a cellar door, Victor following him, "Right here."
"Oh, come on, you're kiddi-" Victor didn't finish for the sidewalk had swallowed both of them whole!

[Willowfern]

Chapter two is out!