December 3, 2024
Nathan Front sat on a wooden stool in the shadowy barn, the weight of the night pressing on him like a lead blanket. The musty smell of hay and old wood filled his lungs, mixing with the sharp edge of his own fear. He had always thought barns were peaceful places. Quiet. Removed. But tonight, this one was both sanctuary and trap.
Across from him, Lauren Mills sat on a bale of hay. Her red hair burned against the gloom. Her face was pale, her emerald eyes locked on him as he told it. His story. He kept his voice low. Partly to steady himself. Partly because something in him believed the ghost might hear.
“It started six days ago,” Nathan said. “Driving home late. Already pissed off. My boss had been on me all week, screwing things up and blaming me for it. Then this idiot in a plumbing van cuts me off.”
Lauren didn’t interrupt.
“We start yelling. Chasing each other up this old road. And then…” He drifted.
“You crashed?”
He nodded. “He pushed me off. Car rolled down the hill. By the time paramedics got there, I was dead. Six minutes.”
Lauren covered her mouth. “Oh my God…”
“They brought me back,” he said. “But something didn’t come back with me. Or something stayed behind. The psychic said it was my anger. Said it was so strong that when I died, it split off. Became its own thing.”
Lauren shook her head. “So this ghost… it’s you?”
“It’s me,” Nathan said. “And it’s killing everyone I ever wanted dead.”
A beat.
“Who?”
“The plumber first. The one who ran me off the road. They found him the next day. Beaten to death. And the footage…” He hesitated. “It was me. But I never left the hospital.”
Lauren’s face drained.
“Next night, my boss. Strangled in her office. Guard says I walked out at 9:45. I was still hooked to machines.” He swallowed. “Then the night after that…”
Lauren reached for him. “Nathan… who?”
“My ex-wife. Denise.” Barely a whisper. “She made my life hell. And yeah, I thought about it sometimes. What life would be like if she was gone. Now she is. Same time. 9:45.”
Lauren squeezed his knee. “This isn’t your fault.”
“It is.” His eyes flared. “Every one of them. Anyone I hated. Even for a second. The neighbor who yelled about my parking ten years ago? Dead. The guy who bullied me in high school? Dead.” He looked at her. “And now…”
Silence stretched.
“It’s coming for you.”
Lauren froze. “Why me?”
Nathan struggled. “Because there was a moment. When you thought you had cancer. I loved you. And seeing you with Bert… knowing I couldn’t…” He shook his head. “For one stupid second, I thought maybe it would be easier if you were gone. I didn’t mean it.”
“Me?” she said quietly. “You actually thought that?”
He couldn’t answer.
They sat with it. Years of almosts. Almost timing. Almost love. The kind that survives by not becoming something else.
Nathan forced a shift. “That’s why I brought you here. Somewhere I wouldn’t know. So you’d be safe.”
He started pacing.
Lauren pulled her knees in, watching him. The barn creaked around them. Old wood, tired bones. The wind slipped through the cracks like a whisper. Fear sat heavy in him, hollowing him out. But she could still see him in there. The Nathan she knew.
She leaned forward.
“You know… I used to come here as a kid.”
He stopped. “Here?”
“My Uncle Roy’s place. My mom’s brother. Lived out here alone. When things got bad at home, we’d come here.” A small smile. “I always felt safe.”
Nathan sat again. Listening now.
“I helped with the animals. Chickens, horses. He had a telescope in the loft. Used to tell me stories about the stars. Always wanted to be an astronomer.” She smiled. “Never happened. But he knew everything.”
Her voice softened.
“I thought the loft was haunted once. Heard scratching every time I went up there. He said mice. I didn’t buy it. So I snuck up with a flashlight.”
Nathan almost smiled. “And?”
“Raccoons.” She laughed quietly. “Whole family. I screamed so loud I nearly fell. He had to carry me down. Then made me hot chocolate and told me everything has a place. Even the annoying stuff.”
Nathan exhaled a small laugh. “Sounds like a good man.”
“He was.” The smile faded. “Died a few years ago. I kept meaning to come back. Clean it up. Never did.”
A beat.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this place?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t think it mattered. Just an old barn. But now…” She looked around. “It feels like home. Like where I grew up.”
Nathan studied her.
“What do you mean?”
She smirked. “First kiss.”
His jaw tightened. “Ken… something?”
“Ken Mathews. How did you…”
Nathan’s stomach dropped.
He knew this story.
Which meant the ghost did too.
He checked his watch.
9:43 p.m.
“Lauren,” he said. “We need to go. Now.”
She frowned. “What?”
“You told me about this place before. If I know it, it knows it.”
The barn groaned. The wind died.
Lauren stood slowly. “Nathan…”
The temperature dropped.
A cold wind spun through the barn. The door slammed shut behind him.
And then it was there.
The ghost of Nathan Front hovered in the center of the barn. Same face. Twisted. Hollow. Rage burned in its eyes.
“No…” Nathan backed up. “Not yet…”
It moved fast.
One second across the room. One hand around Lauren’s throat. Lifting her.
She gasped. Kicked. Clawed.
Nathan froze.
Then remembered.
The psychic.
Let it pass on.
He looked at Lauren. Her face was turning blue.
Something in him snapped.
Not anger.
Love.
He dropped, scanning the ground. Found the pitchfork. Rusted. Sharp enough.
“Lauren,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
He drove it into his chest.
The pain was instant. Blinding.
Then quiet.
The ghost faltered.
Its grip loosened.
Lauren dropped, choking for air.
The ghost turned. Its fire dimming. A low sound. Half scream. Half release.
Then it dissolved.
Gone.
Nathan collapsed. Blood spreading beneath him. The world dimming at the edges.
Lauren crawled to him.
“Nathan… no… no…”
He smiled. Small. Peaceful.
“Better this way.”
A breath.
“No more anger.”
Another.
“No more ghost.”
And then he was gone.
Lauren held him in the quiet barn. Her tears soaked into his beard as the night settled back into stillness.
For the first time in years, Nathan Front was whole.
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