[s2e3] The Only Ghost I Ever Saw • Newest & Working

A figure stood by the bay window. It wasn't translucent or glowing. It looked solid, dressed in a heavy wool coat that looked damp with seawater.

A rhythmic, metallic dragging across the floorboards. [S2E3] The Only Ghost I Ever Saw

By sunrise, the water was gone, but the compass remained. It was heavy, cold, and the needle didn't point North. It pointed steadily toward the marshlands behind the house. A figure stood by the bay window

The ghost didn't speak. Instead, it reached into its coat and pulled out a small, barnacle-encrusted brass compass. It placed the object on the mahogany table. The wood didn't thud; it groaned as if under immense pressure. A rhythmic, metallic dragging across the floorboards

The figure looked up. His eyes weren't eyes—they were swirling pools of dark tide water. He didn't look vengeful; he looked exhausted. With a final, wet exhale that smelled of brine and ancient deep-sea trenches, the figure collapsed inward, turning into a puddle of salt water that soaked into the rug. 🧭 The Aftermath