Walking through the fog and sometimes in complete darkness, he always wondered how he got here, there, or anywhere. His clothes never got old, and his pale skin was always yearning for warmth. It was all gone inside his head, his heart, and his lust completely absent. He didn’t know where he was going or what he did before, but only pictures flashed in his head sporadically in terms of years or if even that. He didn’t know how long a year was anymore or anything that pertained to time.
He had run into others that seemed to be in the same state as him. Lost and fragile they whizzed by him, so he thought. Those thoughts would leave like old bats flying away, dispersing into a black void. Then, they would return decades later or perhaps minutes. He didn’t know if minutes were decades.
It blew his mind every time he thought of folks that looked like they were in his same state of being, which happened every minute or perhaps every decade. He even thought of that when he remembered what he looked like.
Sometimes his clothes were different and he couldn’t tell when he had changed. He just went with the ride. For the most part, he knew that he wore grayish colors, lacking flair.
His feet dragging lackadaisically almost not making any noise, something only ghosts could hear on cold frigid nights.
One step, sometimes, was like a trip to another realm for him. One time he was in Argentina, and he didn’t even know how he got there. All he knew is that he walked and flashes of time passed in his head. Again, his thoughts on this time-lapse problem would wallow away to come back later in decades or minutes. He didn’t know which was what and who was when or why did it just happen that way.
Sitting on a chair at a park across from a woman dressed with flowers, he sat there in his black suit. The sun rays didn’t feel warm. It was a long time since he felt life on his face. He kept staring at the woman. She was beautiful, but her kid didn’t like him. The kid kept staring at him right in the eyes. His somber eyes made the kid very uncomfortable. The kid kept looking away scared.
“What’s the matter with you?” the mother said trying to hold her two-year-old son down from squealing.
The mother looked up and stared right at him, looking towards where her son was staring. She was looking at him right in the eyes, almost through him. He was about to react, but, then, the mother got up and grabbed her son who began crying. She started walking away with her son facing backward, over her right shoulder.
He kept staring at the boy who had tears in his eyes. He looked down to look at her body, her beauty was nothing to avoid. He wanted to follow, but her vibes did not attract him.
It seemed like he had only been following people with vices lately or for decades, or who knows? People, however, with maladjusted lifestyles seemed to be magnetic to him. These people with vices seemed to feel his presence every once in a while.
He sat there thinking about this thought he had from a decade ago. He didn’t know how it got in his head and why he was thinking of that particular thought, a diamond splitting his mind that was washed away by inexplicability.
He looked up for whatever reason. Something caught his eye. It was a plane, but he didn’t know what it was. A plane, he thought. How did he know what it was? Suddenly, he realized something that forced its way into his mind like a knife cutting through a raw steak. Was it an idea? Or, was it the raw truth?
This idea that intruded his mind to himself made him stand up. His feelings were rushing through his chest. How did he know what a plane was? A jet plane to top it off! He remembered nothing of planes or jets in his past, but now! It was pure anger, and it was boiling his blood, face, and his fists clenched.
“Of course!” he thought angrily in his cold-absent mind.
He looked up to see if he saw anyone, someone, the boss, God, or a sign.
Instead, his eyes gazed on nothing.
His anger intensified.
“Am I dead?” he asked as he looked up at the gray skies.
Suddenly, he remembered his life, his wife, and his kids. They were long gone. They were from a time that jets didn’t exist.
This cold feeling came upon him—sadness and somber that hit like a giant-wielding void.
He found himself walking right into the street as he figured out his grim situation. A car was about to hit him. He didn’t react.
At a dark cemetery, he was on his back looking up at the black sky. Stars twinkled in different colors. The moon was nicely lit with its reaper face looking right at him. He felt the coldness of the white moon—the light of night.
A billion thoughts rushed into his head. He didn’t know if they were ideas, guesses, or memories that he had accumulated during his ghostly walks, haunts, or adventures.
He got up and saw other ghostly entities walking around. He figured they were all lost like he was. He ignored them, as he went into a deep lonely sadness. While trying to remember, when it had all happened, he asked why as he looked at the moon.
“I’ll tell you why,” he heard an inviting, sinister voice behind him. He turned quickly and took a good look at this uninvited friend.
He stared for a while. The white grin and glowing eyes caught his attention and fear started. Those eyes dug into his chest. He felt funny. It was like mistrust.
The uninvited had a sharp black suit with a white shirt and a black tie. He had a black fedora with a wide brim and a red feather on the left side. Very colorful feather on this hat as his eyes glowed the same color at times.
“You haven’t spoken in a long while I bet,” added the uninvited man with his fancy way of moving and grinning. His teeth were sharp and yellowish. For that reason, the moon’s light didn’t quite make his teeth light up as white as his shirt.
“Are you the Grim Reaper?” asked the man.
The uninvited entity chuckled as he got a cigarette out of the inside pocket of his jacket. Red stripes slightly lit up as the moon rays touched his jacket at certain angles.
“No,” answered the sharp-dress entity as he walked up to the lonely man’s face with absolute comfort.
“I’m the guy who can make deals or make you squeal,” he laughed with a smoker's laugh as if some phlegm silently gurgled in the back of his throat.
The bad-stench breath that came from this trickster, this silly-dark entity, hit the ghostly man straight up his nose. It smelled like rot or old death.
It lit its cigarette right in front of the man’s face. The man or ghost could smell it as well as he did the rotten breath that was embellished in there. He loved it. It’s been decades since he had the pleasure of smelling any type of scent.
He remembered now, it’s been decades, perhaps ninety or more years. Wandering like a lonely lost autistic child he thought. A tear came upon him as he was hit with a reality that stunk and came unwelcomed. This overwhelming feeling came suddenly just like old age does to people who live their lives the way society tells them how to live, the mundane lifestyle.
“I know it hurts,” interrupted the trickster.
The man came back from his thoughts of nostalgia. His life was now a purgatory, and he wanted answers.
“Why this?” he asked with no fear and with arms wide open as he stared right into the trickster’s eyes which glowed red.
“It’s rather silly,” replied the trickster with his wicked smile and chuckling a bit as if to be rude and vile.
“I don’t remember being a bad man in my life,” bluntly uttered the ghost.
“Well, if you really want to know,” the trickster added as he puffed at his cigarette.
The man stood there listening and staring as sharp as a dog seeing its master with eating a biscuit, to only jump at command.
“During your funeral, your family had an open casket, as you had requested. It was then that a black cat came out of nowhere and jumped right over your dead body,” the trickster started laughing as he backed away grabbing his gut. It kept slapping its knees as it started coughing from the smoke.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
The trickster threw his cigarette away.
“Well, it’s a Buddhist belief that if a cat, any cat, jumps over your dead body at your funeral, your soul is cursed to roam the Earth…I think…Is it a Buddhist...”
“I am not a Buddhist!”
“So who fucking cares!” the trickster got in the man’s face as his eyes lit bright red.
The man retreated and felt a bit scared.
“But I’m not...”
“Let me tell you something about the rules. There are a bunch of them. Some are bullshit, some are true. This one, with the whole Buddhist thing, might not be true. However, we take any faith that could be used to our advantage, and, let me tell you something, you got fucked with this one!”
“I’m not...”
“Neither Am I!” smiled the trickster as he wickedly crept up with his long nails aiming right at the man’s heart.
“It’s not fair!”
“Nothing is my poor soul. Look at my job. You think I like this you fucking inconsiderate jackass!”
“Please, I was a good man, and a stupid belief that existed thousands of miles away from me condemned my soul?”
“That’s right my poor soul. Your world is all about...let me see... cheating on your wife, wanting more than necessary, dog eat dog, black and white, look the other way, the truth hurts, and, my favorite, fuck authority...etc, etc, etc.”
“Please, this is just a shitty formality of some sort,” pleaded the man.
“Maybe, but it is beyond your comprehension my poor soul,” the trickster giggled a nice deep cackle.
“So I’m cursed over a belief that I didn’t even know about?”
“We take what we can get! We didn’t make up the rules. You dumb useless idiots came up with some of these rules with your chicken shit beliefs. You poor souls are so fucking scared of everything. Death is not that bad!”
The man stood there confused and did not want to agree with this erratic entity.
“So, what are you going to do now?” asked the trickster.
“Aren’t you here to take me?”
The trickster started laughing uncontrollably. Once he stopped, he looked up from underneath his fedora and simply said no.
“Then what is next for me? What, do I just keep wandering around this place listlessly with no love?”
“It’s up to you what you want?”
“So you guys took advantage of my stupid situation and cursed my fucking soul like it was nothing!”
“Yes!” laughed the trickster. His vile mouth started expelling a black tar. He spat at the man.
The man, with muck all over his face, felt an anger he never felt before and jumped at the trickster. He jumped right over him and started punching away. Blood and black muck sprinkled the air as the trickster laughed and laughed. It gurgled in its own blood.
“Why didn’t God do something about this?” as he looked up into the black night with its pretty lit moon.
“Didn’t I say we do what we can with your stupid measly beliefs,” the trickster said while standing behind the man cleaning his face with a red handkerchief.
The man startled about the fact that the entity slithered away unnoticed, unfelt.
“This is the best he did for you! You dumb, naive, worthless fuck!” the trickster, the demon said with his voice that trembled in the man’s heart.
“What are you going to do about it?”
The man startled and watched the trickster twitch. The entity’s voice got deeper and scratchier. It was vile. It was deep. It was packed with fright.
The man fell to his knees.
“You used to think that you could live your life nonchalantly and, by being good, you could get by? The way to Hell is through good intentions! Did you know that? You never once acted on what you really wanted! You should have followed your thoughts and ideas on what happiness was, not what your Goddamn society told you to do! You should have lived the life you thought was right, not some fucking asshole’s idea who told you what was right. Now, your faith brought you here! Yes, that shitty lackadaisical faith, that one faith that many think that if one is good, one will be OK in the afterlife! Fuck that! And yes, fuck you! We got you good! This Buddha shit is the same as any shit! And when I say we, it includes the whole spectrum of shit in this vast universe that your God created.”
The man stared at the entity as it was standing next to him breathing deeply, cold breath coming out into the night as if below zero. The eyes reflected hatred and disgust towards any type of rule that made the universe work.
“You’re going to let some fucking rule about a cat walking over your dead body fuck you like that!?”
“No,” said the man angered still on his knees.
“Good boy,” said the trickster and put its long-fingered hands on the man’s shoulders. His sharp fingernails dug into him.
“What are you going to do about this unfair, unjust fucking situation!” uttered the trickster with his demonic voice that sounded like an old, rotten man.
The trickster’s fingernails dug deeper as the man’s eyes began to glow red and his teeth started to sharpen. As his transformation began from a simple ghost to an intimidating-looking spirit.
The man thought about his life while transforming into a new entity.
He was always good and never hurt anyone. He did what was taught to him to do―be good. Now, that his soul was swindled, duped, tricked into being a lonely wandering spirit, he decided to become a general of evil.
He became an agent of Death. He walked the Earth to haunt and torture lonely minds, drug addicts, and, many times, the insane.
He became evil, an evil spirit that was afraid of cats.