Chapter Text
Elias Stevens. Alias: Wraith.
Fire.
That was the first thing Elias was able to feel. Not the smoke clinging to the ceiling, not his own heavy breathing as he was already running , none of those.
All he could feel was wave after oppressive wave of the borderline hellish heat assaulting him on all sides.
He hated this nightmare more than any other. Elias loathed this nightmare more than he loathed anything else in his entire life, and that included Dash, by the way. He hated this nightmare so fucking much, because in this nightmare-
Crunch-Clang. Crunch-Clang. Crunch-Whirr. Click-Click-Clang.
The monster always caught him in the end.
He still didn’t know what the monster even was . It was a vile mix of metal and man, if man meant corpse in this context. The pungent stench of rotting flesh and rusting metal overpowered the smell of smoke to the point Elias had woken himself up vomiting if he survived too long against the monster.
And that’s not even talking about those eyes. Those haunting, bone-white eyes that seemed like they were carving into his soul with nothing but ice-cold hatred . God he hated the monster’s eyes. He hated the monster. He hated the burning building he was seemingly trapped in with it. It felt less like a nightmare and more like a custom-made cell fresh from the depths of Hell.
“Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck you, you mechanical motherfu-aack-! ”
Elias let out a sudden hacking sound as the monster yanked him off of his feet, a solid death-grip on his throat. Normally he would start kicking and thrashing around, trying to wriggle his way free.
Normally the abomination wouldn’t stab him in the back with nothing more than a static-filled growl rather than the supposed warning. And to add insult to injury, Elias didn’t even really scream all that much before the monster did what it always did when he was caught. Snap his neck and send him screaming as he woke up.
***
Three weeks. For the past Three. Damn. Weeks. Elias had been haunted by a dozen different, all as horrifying and goretastic as the last, nightmares of epic proportions. For three weeks, Elias had been haunted by a literal spirit who had unilaterally decided to live in his shadow. For three weeks, Elias Stevens had been, technically speaking, a dead man walking.
The worst part of it all?
He wasn’t alone on the matter.
No, he wasn’t alone in the matter because someone else was caught in the same incident as he was, and suffered because of it.
Daniel Fenton. A…Well, Elias would like to call him a friend, but according to the majority of Casper High, Elias doesn’t really have friends.
“Elias Stevens knows everyone, but talks to no-one.” A whisper in the darkness of his room muttered out.
“Shut up, Wraith, nobody asked for your input.” Eli snipped back.
“If you’re going to internally monologue, which I can hear by the way, then you should expect my commentary, Elias.” The darkness huffed, but based on the strange sound of exhaling smoke, Wraith had left anyway.
Wraith…Wraith was an enigma. Eli knew that Wraith wasn’t their actual name, but so long as they continued to keep who they used to be to themselves, then they would continue to be called Wraith.
Point is, both had walked into that portal, and neither had left it without being… Changed by it. Danny, as he liked to be called, was another fool caught in the limbo-like state Eli was. Honestly, Eli had a feeling that if he hadn’t tagged along with Danny to check out the portal that day, then Danny would be the only one stuck like whatever this was.
…One day Eli would get back at Sam for pressuring Danny into heading down there. And then get back at himself for even choosing to hang out with the trio that day.
Don’t get Eli wrong , they were actually pretty cool once you got to know them. Certainly better than the gaggle of A-Listers , but they had some rather obvious… Flaws , as Eli would gently put it, when Eli hung around them too long.
Manson was loud and argumentative, almost to an obsessive degree. Foley was obsessed with both tech and women, to the point it almost weirded Eli out. Almost. Eli was made of sterner stuff. And Fenton? Fenton was a kid of The Fentons.
However, Eli was mature enough to admit he had his own problems. But was he mature enough to identify and seek to solve those problems? Fuck no! What does he look like, a psychiatrist?
Although, there is one problem of his that he recognizes was a major fuck-up on his part.
As if on cue, Wraith rose from the darkness, the swirling gas of their form shimmering in the fading moonlight, their body slowly solidifying as they began to rummage through his dresser. “If you had worn protective gear like Danny had suggested, maybe you wouldn’t be stuck with me and would be more like Danny’s state of being?” They snarked, the rich purple of their eyes spinning around to look at him.
“Jeez, why’re you in such a bad mood?” He mumbled, shirking off his blankets and nabbing the hand towel on his night stand. Did it look sketchy to have it there? Probably, but Eli would be damned if he was going to spend his entire morning sweaty because of a nightmare!
Eli groaned as Wraith smacked him with what he was pretty sure was an entire fucking outfit. “Seriously?” His muffled voice could barely be heard to anyone else, but Wraith? Wraith could always hear him, and he could hear them. Which was honestly kinda creepy whenever Eli thought about it.
“You have a terrible sense of style. I’m pretty much obligated to help train you into having an actually acceptable taste in fashion.” They hummed, floating around the room as the sun climbed higher and higher, the peaks of the sky already starting to brighten in shades of blue and orange.
“Well, that’s pretty rude. I think I dress well, thank you very much.” He huffed, yanking up the socks and tugging down the shirt.
Wraith tittered and tilted, swaying back and forth in some ethereal breeze. “Bullshit, but whatever helps you get through the day.”
Eli scoffed, “Y’know, I was about to compliment you for picking my favorite shirt, but nevermind. Dickhead. ” Wraith merely chuckled and ruffled his hair, which led Eli having to brush it back to its usual style.
“There we go. Looking like an actually stylish individual who cares about how others see him. And all it took was you listening to me about what suits you best.” Wraith lifted a small plume of smoke up and down, more than likely emulating a simple full-hand gesture.
“Bite me, Big Tobacco.” He snarked, continuing to fix his hair as Wraith hissed and snarled.
“I thought we agreed you’d stop calling me that, Brat!”
“Oh, did we? I must’ve forgotten about that. My bad, Wraith, honest .”
“God you can be insufferable sometimes.”
Eli snorted, glancing back at the spirit. “Hey Pot, I’m Kettle.” Elias then shuffled into the mirror with a snort, setting his boots(“Timberland’s are boots!” “I disagree, but go off I guess.”) down and checking out his outfit for the day.
Favorite shirt? Check.
Said shirt was a basic white tee with one change that had cemented it as Eli’s favorite, which had pushed him to get multiple of the same shirt. In the dead center of the shirt was a design of the Ouroboros snake devouring itself in pure black coloring. What can Eli say, he liked snakes, okay? Plus the meaning behind the snake is really cool.
Next up, iconic, to Eli anyway, grey jacket? Also check. He didn’t really need it anymore, apparently being dead came with the solid bonus of a resistance to colder temperatures, but he felt weird without his jacket. But God , does Eli feel weird without it.
And now for the final piece of the outfit-
“Seriously? Jeans? You know I hate wearing them, Wraith !” Eli griped and whined, holding the offending pants out to the spirit.
“I don’t care, they compliment your outfit and you look good in them. Wear the fucking jeans you Baby.” Wraith growled, passing through Eli and phasing back into his shadow to lurk once more.
Elias sputtered and whined some more, arguing tooth and nail against the mere prospect of wearing jeans. He lost, of course, but he hated every moment of actually putting them on. According to himself, anyway. ( “All you did was frown.” “Dead Men Tell No Tales, so shut up.” “Sassy this morning, aren’t we?” “Shut up, Wraith .” “No, I don’t think I will.” )
Snagging his round-frame glasses and his backpack, Elias marched out of his room, haunted shadow and all, downstairs to face the morning.