Desiring a Ghost
A short story I did for Thursday_Prompt on FA, the prompt being the last one of 2022. Their prompt: ghost.
I knew I wanted the form of ghost to be a hallucination induced by a drug. I would have gone into detail about the relationship, but I decided to keep it vague.
Desiring a Ghost
"How much d-you want for it?" the young wolf asked the stern badger before him.
"600 quid," he answered. "Fer a kilogram."
The young grey wolf was sceptical because of the cost. Then again, he expected the price to go up if this dealer got busted by the next day. He was already used to buying from a ferret named Luke, who had been arrested a week back. Jack didn't think about it for long. He counted the bills in his massive wad produced from his bomber jacket and handed them to the badger.
The badger counted them, but looked up at his buyer. "Are ya sure y-want this?" he asked.
"Of course I do!" Jack burst. "Why would a drug dealer give a fuck?!"
"Yer money's good, and I'm a man with good intentions. If you want to keep buying me guy's merch, I recommend it fer somethin' more meaningful."
"You olready accepted my money. Either gimme the shit now or go fuck yerself."
The badger shoved the bricks in the wolf's hand and turned around. "Yeh're welcome," he muttered.
Jack returned to his apartment and locked the door instantly. In the living room, which looked both shabby and tidy, he placed the small blocks on a desk. Then, he hung up his jacket. He then eagerly went to the kitchen before returning to the desk to unwrap one of the bricks. He placed it in the cup of his electric blender. Jack started it on the lowest setting before gradually raising it. He had to endure the droning noise as if he had a splitting headache.
Eventually, the brick broke down into a powder. He poured it into a bowl, but looked for shards. Once enough of them were out, he was ready for his next trip. He scooped the powder in his hand, and then snorted it directly.
The environment didn't change in his eyes, but Jack saw someone he had been thinking about for a long time. There stood a side-striped grey jackal with blue eyes, wearing only a loincloth. Jack cried at the sight of him, but he could still see the lithe figure perfectly. "Kyle," he whispered.
The ghostly jackal was statuesque. He didn't move; he didn't even blink. To Jack's frustration, he couldn't hear the jackal's voice. "Please," Jack whispered. "Say something. I need you, Kyle." No answer. The wolf couldn't stop his tears or his sobbing. "I wish you never died. I never felt for anyone the way I felt fer you." As if memories flashed, he could see the jackal jerk his motions. He couldn't stop watching the video of it, and it happened without a screen now: the arms chained, the untreated wounds, and his body going limp. His head sunk and dangled as if his neck broke. "It wos everyone's fault!" Jack burst. He should have been blinded by tears, but he could still see the jackal clearly. "Yer men saur it oll happen, and they did nothing! Nobody cares about their friends out there! I wanted ta see you again, you holding me in yer arms, tellin' me yeh're oll right!" Now, the apartment's atmosphere changed, reddening with Jack's anger. He stood up and tried to hold him, only to realise he had no grip on the apparition. He turned around, now seeing two of them. "You were my idol, Kyle!" Jack barked. "And they turned you into a fuckin' martyr! Is that whot being a hero is like?" He expected an answer, but both figures still had the same stoic expression. A third seemed to appear from behind the two matching jackals, this one being sad. "I... I am weak without you..." Jack admitted. He sobbed and hung his head.
A fourth grey jackal appeared, making the wolf look up. The four of them seemed to fight monsters, reminding the wolf of the horrors in the world. His attempt to speak to the jackal led to the summoning of more phantoms. The fights among them drove him to growl. He could still hear even though he covered his ears, and could see fire through his shut eyes.
All that the wolf wanted was to see someone. He thought that an illusion was the only way he could be with that jackal, even though it was a ghost. He had to use up the dust he made from the bricks to know his mistake.
Instead of going to see the badger again, he stayed in. He called on his cell phone, and the receiver picked up on the first ring.
"Hey, Mum," Jack said, sadness evident. "Not well," he answered a question. "Somethin's botherin' me."