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Sparrows chattered and bounced from branch to branch overhead, disguised in the green foliage of summer maples. Late afternoon sunlight glimmered through ancient oaks ahead, dappling the forest floor and illuminating the faces of two men as they trekked through the ferns. They walked alongside each other in complete silence other than the sounds of debris and twigs snapping beneath their boots. One of them squinted his thin dark brown eyes against the glow and lifted his sleeve to shield his gaze from the bright light. As he protected his eyes against the powerful rays, he glimpsed a flash of white movement in the west. He whipped around sharply to face it, but when he turned his body to face it, it seemed to dissipate into nothingness. “Hmff.” he reached his long, thin hands to the back of his head to tighten the hair tie holding his long, straight black hair and gave his small, pale nose an awkward itch. He and his companion were both tall, although his friend was slightly taller than he was. “You know, before you woke up this morning, I went exploring near that creek where we fished last night and found his weird stone structure,” Gabriel exclaimed, breaking the silence. “It was man-made, obviously, but there was this weird drawing on it. It- it looked like a long-haired hippy woman holding hands with the Grim Reaper, and,” he paused thoughtfully, “there was some kind of flower grasped between their hands, where they met. What do you think that means?” He probed curiously. Aros shrugged, his gaze flittering amongst the trees suspiciously as he searched for any additional signs of motion. “I’m not sure what kind of flower it was,” his friend added, “but I don’t know, maybe it doesn’t matter.” Aros didn’t respond. He enjoyed traveling with Gabriel. He was a large, burly man with long, golden hair and glasses. Aros thought his hair was so thick, frizzy, and wavy it may have made him look even larger than what he was. What Aros lacked in body weight and muscle he made up for in observance and survival techniques. Despite the teachery lurking in both the forest and urban areas alike, he felt more at ease alongside his traveling companion, though he secretly wished Gabriel was as alert as he was, and would quit talking for once. Occasionally he pondered the purpose of a nomadic and adventurous lifestyle if he was unable to just enjoy the sounds of nature, such as the melodies of the birds and the babbling of water, without Gabriel’s continuous yacking present to spoil it. As Gabriel halted and bent over to gather branches to add to the collection growing in his hand, Aros witnessed another flash of white weaving through the low-hanging branches of a fir. “There it is! I saw it again!” Aros declared, his posture stiffening as his gaze darted in paranoia. He flinched as Gabriel broke a branch in half. “Saw what?” His friend blinked his blue eyes questioningly, causing Aros to remind himself that Gabriel didn’t see the things- the people rather, that he saw. Gabriel gave a knowing nod and seemed to relax with understanding. “You know, I don’t want to worry you, but I’ve been keeping track of the phases-” Gabriel’s voice broke off as he studied the twilight, “I think there’s a full moon tonight.” Aros’s stomach tightened. Spirits became extremely active on nights with a visible full moon. His dark brown gaze followed Gabriel’s towards the clear evening sky. He swallowed hard. The full moon was already visible as the sun began to set behind them, and it appeared much larger than usual and possessed a strange pink hue. “Does that look red to you? You don’t think it’s another forest fire, do you?” Gabriel muttered, seeming to partially read his thoughts. Aros felt a hot wave of annoyance. Why couldn’t he have told Aros about the full moon sooner? Gabriel’s constant yet unnecessary talking only heightened Aros’s anxiety. “No,” he snapped in response, “if it were a forest fire, the sky wouldn’t be blue and the moon would look more hazey.” He forced his irritation to the side and glanced at the fist of twigs and branches grasped in Gabriel’s right hand. “But speaking of fires, can we maybe pass on having a fire tonight? I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself.” He inspected the trees with uncertainty. More glowing white figures appeared between the shadows, accompanied by disembodied voices. He hastily looked down at his feet, hoping they wouldn’t notice him. Typically so long as he avoided eye contact, ghosts would assume he couldn’t see them, just like everyone else. “I guess…” Gabriel shrugged, “but there’s going to be a lot more bugs tonight if we don’t.” Gabriel’s special ability was far different than Aros’s, and seemingly much easier for him to control. Aros didn’t have control of what spirits he saw and how often. He knew his companion couldn’t understand, but perhaps if he did, he would sympathize with Aros a little more. Gabriel started moving logs and tinkering with the undergrowth. “We should be able to settle here for the night, I just need to make a few adjustments,” he announced. Aros felt a rush of gratitude towards his friend mixed with remorse for expressing his irritation. He still hasn't budged his gaze from the ground but noticed Gabriel organizing a spot for him to sleep. At least he was helpful and kind, regardless of whether he understood Aros. The sooner I lay down and close my eyes, the better, he thought. It was always a headache talking to spirits anymore. Not everyone would get tied to the earthly realm post-death, only those with unresolved business, traumatic deaths, or heavy secrets carried to the grave. Most spirits Aros encountered were victims: tortured souls struggling with an agonized past, either that or they committed brutal atrocities in life. Aros had the strange ability to release spirits to the great beyond when they confided in him, taking the weight off their shoulders and placing it on to his own. Recently the weight had become too heavy for Aros to lift. When he revealed he could see them, he would often become rushed by excited spirits which caused him to panic and become confused, snatching him from reality. Aros would have guessed that the supernatural were about twice as active at night, and five times as active on a night with a full moon visible. Darkness had fallen and the birdsong surrounding them had been replaced by the chirping of crickets, though their sound was almost completely drowned out by the voices of spirits echoing through the trees. They seemed louder than usual, even for the night of the full moon. Aros felt his heart plummet into his stomach as he discovered massive crowds of entities migrating and mingling all around him from the edges of his vision. He couldn’t recall the last time he had seen spirits so active. He could feel their pale, ghostly gazes boring into him as he wiped a drop of sweat off his forehead and dared to shoot a glance at the moon rising overhead. It was blood red, casting an eerie scarlet light over the dark clouds moving across the night sky. “A blood moon.”Aros observed aloud. Gabriel shifted a log in the cover of the shadows with a pillow of bright green moss and fern laid on top of it. “Is this ok for you?” He inquired. He had disregarded Aros’s statement, appearing more focused on catering to his physical comfort. I ought to have the straightest spine there ever was, Aros deliberated. Considering all the nights he had spent sprawled out on logs, smooth rocks, and hardened earth he felt accustomed to it. As soon as Gabriel stepped away from make-shift bed Aros had practically launched himself at the portion of tree trunk. He ignored the dampened moss and leaves shifting uncomfortably beneath his head and shut his brown eyes tightly. Beside him the bushes and undergrowth rustled as Gabriel began organizing an area for himself to lie down. He willed sleep to pull him into its relieving embrace but it never arrived to collect him from his misery. Even after his companion had finally settled, the broken voices continued to murmur, cry, and call out to one another, leaving Aros restless. With his eyes closed it seemed as though he were lying in the center of a gigantic crowd of lost, anguished people that could trample over him at any moment. How long had he been lying awake listening? Minutes? Hours? “Aros.” A smooth, monotone voice uttered his name. It was singled out from the rest and was audible from right beside him, but he knew it was not Gabriel. “Aros!” The voice startled him and caused the hairs on his arms and on the back of his neck to stand on end. He opened one eye cautiously to discover a ghostly figure leaned over him. Acting purely on instinct, he shot up as to not leave himself vulnerable. He internally cursed himself for forgetting that spirits themselves wouldn’t cause him any bodily harm like living people could, and he had to admit that although he had been gifted with this ability his entire life, nothing about their presence became less unsettling. He had never met this man before, at least not that he could recall. He didn’t even have the time to consider how it would have known his name as the translucent figure leaned in to glare at him expectantly. “What? Keep your voice down.” Aros warned. There was no logic in ignoring the ghost now that it had grasped his attention. “Someone needs your help.” The spirit urged him. Aros surveyed the man, realizing that he was probably in his late twenties. He died young, but that’s far from uncommon these days. He was short in stature with pale skin, crystal blue eyes, and ash blond hair. A thick scar ran from below his left eye in the direction of his chin. He was shrouded in an unearthly white glow, highlighted in pink moonlight.