A Ghost Story

Disclamier: I do not own Saiyuki or its characters. This is a story just for fun and I am not making a profit off it.

This story will have accurate historical themes but some may be tampered with for the sake of the story. If you do not like that, then please do not read this fic. I will do my best to keep the facts in the best order I can. Towns and street names have been made up except for the historical ones that will appear throughout the story.

This story will have mature adult themes and strong language.

Please read on and enjoy!


Chapter One

The rain fell hard on the windshield of Gojyo’s Ford pick up truck as the wipers swept rapidly back and forth. He cursed under his breath at the weather and reached into his back pocket for a pack of cigarettes. Flipping the top open, he frown as he saw the pack was empty. He crushed it in his hand and tossed it on the floor of the passenger side seat.

“God damn it, this day just keeps getting worse and worse.” He mumbled to himself as he continued to drive down the slightly deserted road. “This place better not be run down to that of a shack.” he sighed and looked at his paper with directions to his new house.

Gojyo had inherited the house from a distant relative he did not know existed. It was left in both his name and that of his half brother Jien, but Jien already had a house of his own. So Gojyo got to keep the house in just his name, which to him, was much better than living in the house he grew up in. For Gojyo, too many sad and haunting memories laid in that house, and any place was better than there.

It was not long before he had entered the small town of Sunnyside, Massachusetts which consisted of old colonial houses and recently built ones. The street was narrow, Gojyo noticed, as he drove slowly to not hit the cars parked along side of the road. At a red light, he quickly took a look at the address again and glanced at the street signs.

“So Locus Street should be this way.” he said to himself as he made a right. He continued strait through the town until he started to make his way on the outskirts, where he found Locus Street. “Alright, it shouldn’t be too far off now.” He slowed down a bit to count the houses until he found number 97. “This is it.” He pulled into the muddy driveway and up to the side of the house. “It’s a bit smaller than I thought.” he frowned, then figured it might be the rain covered windows hindering his view.

Quickly, he jumped out of the truck, pulling two suitcases from the back and running onto the front porch. The rain seemed to fall harder as he fumbled with his car keys, trying to find the one that unlocked the door. With a curse, he found the key and pushed it in, but found it was slightly jammed. “Mother fuc-” he swore softly under his breath as he jiggled the lock until it finally opened. With both suitcases in hand, he pushed the door open and entered, finally coming out of the rain. “It never fails to rain when I leave for somewhere.” he said angrily and dropped his bags.

The house was dark and chilly, with hardly any furniture in sight. He swore under his breath and walked over to the tall lamp in the corner of the living room. The walls were white and a bit cracked in the corners, even the woodwork was chipped. The floor boards creaked in a few spots as he walked around the room, looking it up and down. His distant relative kept the place clean, but did not fix it up. Gojyo noticed that most of the furniture left looked old, almost antique. He figured they were left over from previous owners and in the good condition they were in, he would keep them.

The kitchen was small with an old refrigerator, slightly crooked cabinet doors, and a sink. He tested the stove to make sure the real-estate agent sent word to have the gas and water turned on. When a blue flame popped up after one or two clicks, he let it run for a bit as he checked the water, which was clear. He smiled and turned off the stove, seeing that everything was in working order.

“No dishwasher though.” he frowned and slipped his hands in his pockets as he checked the next room, which had an old piano and a desk, along with a scratched up rug and lounge chair. A fireplace was in the center of the wall, cleaned of any ashes. Gojyo looked up the chimney to see if it was opened or closed off. It was opened, which means he could get a fire going whenever he wanted. When the moving truck came with his stuff, he could put his futon couch in here so he can sleep in front of the fire, to save money on heat. He did not need a lot to live on, just enough to live.

Next he headed up the stairs, which creaked with every step. There were only about ten and the railing stopped half way up, leaving just the walls. The upstairs hallway was small, with only three rooms. One room to the right had a bed and a bureau, with a chest under the window. The wall was bare and there was a small door next to the bed. Curious, he bent down and opened it, seeing nothing more than a tiny crawlspace. He rolled his eyes and closed it, heading to the larger door on the opposite side. He opened it up and it was an empty built in closet, with a box of mothballs at the bottom. Gojyo made a mental note to get rid of that box when he started organizing. This would be his room, since it was the biggest.

The room next to it was a smaller room, but was empty except for a coat hanger and another little door in the corner. Gojyo walked over to it and studied it, seeing that it was not as small as the crawlspace. The door knob was old and he had to jiggle it to get it to open. He was surprised to see a small, narrow staircase leading up into what could only be an attic. He smirked and walked up the tiny steps, having to duck his head at the entrance. The roof came just inches above his head and he looked around. The room was too dark to really make anything out, and there was no light switch or light bulbs anywhere. He could hear the rain falling down hard on the roof above him as he left the attic and closed the door.

The final room, which was completely empty, had the most windows. Gojyo walked in and looked out the back window. He saw something in the distance and had to scrub the fog off the glass. Squinting, he could make out a graveyard but it was too far away to judge if it was big or small.

“Just great, I’m living next to a bunch of dead people.” he leaned against the wall and sighed. “Well, guess it’s better than the living. Can’t complain about my neighbors making noise.” he said with a chuckle and left to check out the bathroom, which was the last room in the house. The toilet and tub looked to be new but Gojyo flushed the toilet just to check. He then checked the shower head, which also worked. “Perfect.”

He went back down to the living room where his bags were, noting that he had to get a television and cable. He opened one of his bags and took out a pack of cigarettes, smoking one. He sat back lazily in the chair and looked up at the ceiling with a peaceful smile.
“No car horns, no gun shots, no sirens-” He sighed. “I could get used to this.” He closed his eyes and thought about what he was going to do with all his things when they arrived. He was looking forward to setting up his new ‘pad’ and with that thought, he got up and put the cigarette out in his ash tray. He put his hands behind his head and sighed peacefully. “Some peace and quiet.”

But what he heard next made his eyes shoot open and his body freeze. The music from the piano began to play a tune! Gojyo sat up quickly and looked at the piano, but it had stopped. He raised an eyebrow and went over to it, touching one of its keys. The key made a deep toot, showing that it was old and broken. It was definitely not the music he just heard. A thought suddenly crossed his mind as an answer to what just happened, but he laughed at himself.

“Pfft…ghosts. What a load shit. Gojyo my boy, you’re loosing your mind.”