Noble had to admit,he hadn’t felt much as he watched Irene’s body be removed from the ground, or even when the two men started crying. He didn’t know if it was because he was so used to seeing others in pain—usually being the one causing it—that he was just unaffected by it now, or if he actually was incapable of empathy for all except a select few people and situations. One of the people being Ollie.
Because he didn’t like seeing Ollie cry, or as is the case at the moment, hearing Ollie cry. It made him upset, and his brain’s reaction was to figure out how to make things better, to comfort him, or to hurt whoever had made Ollie cry.
All that being said, he wasn’t sure what he could feel for others in general anymore. It had been a long time since he felt true sadness that wasn’t tinged with some kind of guilt in relation to his own actions. Even in regards to Ollie, as the guilt over all that he was hiding never really went away. Yet that guilt, at least when it came to his victims, he couldn’t say with certainty that the sadness that came with it was actually sadness for the people he had hurt.
He felt self-disgust and hatred about it. Yet the inner ache and tears that sometimes tried to come when he thought about the innocent people he had hurt, Noble couldn’t help but wonder if it was more about some sort of pathetic self-pity rather than sadness for the victims. That the anger, sadness, and guilt was grounded in the fact he knew what he had been doing, that what he had done was wrong. Selfish self-pity, over clinging to a desperate morality for so many years, only to finally realize it was, in fact, false. He felt guilt and sadness over the morality, yet not pain for the horrors he had inflicted on innocents.
When he really thought about what he’d done to those people, Noble found he felt surprisingly little over the actual pain he’d inflicted on them. Maybe a little self-disgust, but the sadness… That sadness felt like it had more to do with knowing it was wrong, knowing he had blackened his soul beyond repair and redemption, rather than being over what he’d actually done.
And that wasn’t right. He knew it wasn’t. He should feel sad for the innocent witches he’d killed. He knew he should. And Noble felt something, for sure. He wasn’t a complete emotionless monster, he just wasn’t exactly clear about what he was feeling. And when it came to strangers, it was apparent that Noble wasn’t sure what exactly he could still feel. He supposed it didn’t help that he had learned to fake so much of what he showed the world, that sometimes even he didn’t know the real him…
Hah—no, that was a lie. The real him was a monster who enjoyed hurting others, who took thrills from the violence, even if he knew for sure that he didn’t necessarily want to hurt innocent people…anymore.
But Ollie was not him…a fact that he was happy about. Noble doubted he could stand being around someone just like him. Which explained why he was never able to ‘play nice’ with the other witch hunters.
Sighing and smiling gently, he slowly turned Ollie around, before brushing a few of the witch’s tears away, but they just kept coming. “Ready to go, Baby?”
“I-I…” Ollie briefly looked back before turning to face him again, seeming unsure.
“You’ve done all that you set out to do, haven’t you?”
The witch nodded with a sniffle.
“Then isn’t it time for us to leave?”
His poor Baby took a stuttered breath before softly and sadly stuttering, “Y-yes.”
After drying off with a towel, and tossing it into the dirty bin, instead of putting on the pajamas that were sitting on the stone counter near the sink, Ollie tugged on the plush dark forest-green robe that was hanging on one of the hooks on Noble’s bathroom door. Based on the size alone, it must have been meant for him, as it certainly would not fit Noble.
With it being so late, and Noble’s place being closer, they’d decided to crash there for the night.
Walking out of the bathroom, he stood there eyeing Noble, who was changing the sheets on the king-sized wooden-framed four-poster bed to a dark green that matched the deep-green vertical paneling on three of the bedroom walls. The man was wearing a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, having showered first dueto Ollie needing a moment to decompress. Or rather, he’d felt overwhelmed, and just wanted to sit there and not think or talk.
“Do you…?” Ollie trailed off with a wince.
Tossing a pillow he just finished with onto the bed, Noble looked at him. “Yes?”
Ollie sighed and then forced the words out. “Do you think all ghosts are going to be murder victims?”
The man pursed his lips. “I mean, it’s a possibility that most ghosts you come across will have died that way. I’m not sure if it’s the strength of emotions that make them able to stay behind, but those who were murdered would likely have a greater reason to stay than others. Then again, you could end up finding plenty of ghosts who have regrets after dying of natural causes or accidents. You’d likely be able to find the answers to who becomes a ghost in that secret library of yours.”
“So…maybe and maybe not? But…is it always going to be this sad?!”
“Was it sad the first time?”
Ollie blinked. “The…first time?” He wrinkled his nose as he remembered, in far too much detail, what had happened with the first ghost. “Ugh…I mean, no, not really. It was definitely more about the physical pain, paired with the worry of dying, and the possibility of going to jail due to the dead body. So, yeah, I’d describe it more as panic inducing. But I also didn’t see any of the victim’s family.”
Noble chuckled. “So, no, not all of them will be sad. As for today, rather than sad, I think you should view it as something happy. Today, you helped Irene move on, while also helping her family to finally get closure. And in the end, Irene was happy, wasn’t she?”
Happy…? Her eyes…he’d met her eyes and there had been…sadness there. But it wasn’t heavy or devastating, it was more the sadness that came with finally saying goodbye. There wasmore than that, though. Noble was right, Irene had been happy. He may not have recognized it in that moment, but he did now. Irene had been relieved and happy.
But instead of explaining all that, as his brain was tired, he just said, “She was…smiling at the end.”
“Ollie, you need to understand that ghosts can be stuck here for centuries, in limbo, unable to do anything aside from watch and wait. While the things you learn about them may be heartbreaking to you, and even make you cry, the results of your involvement will always be happy, because you are freeing them. You are giving them their happy ending.”
Their happy ending? Was it better to move on to some unknown place than be stuck in limbo, unable to touch or do anything, most without a chance to ever be seen again, let alone talk to someone? He supposed, to most, it definitely would. Even to Ollie, the second option sounded like a nightmare—a very lonely one. So what if learning about the ghosts made him sad?! Wasn’t that little bit of pain worth it if he could help them?
What was a little emotional pain compared to what he could do for them? Nothing, that’s what. A slow smile formed on his face, and he softly rasped, “I am, aren’t I? What I’m doing is a good thing.”
