Chapter 1 - Poor Pierre

Camond is guy who works at a fast food diner working the grill, and he can see ghosts. He meets a really hot guy at the diner. The guy turns out to be haunted by an angry spirit. Camond must try to get rid of the spirit before it kills the guy. SLASH, mxm, all that good stuff.


I slammed my hand down onto the annoying alarm clock. Rolling out of bed in only my boxers, I fell onto the floor, landing on my hands and knees. I laid there for a moment, attempting to wake up. I heaved a huge sigh, then sluggishly got up and headed for the bathroom.

I turned the shower water on until it was nice and hot, then stripped and got in. I quickly washed off, waking up as the hot water seeped through to my sleep-clouded brain.

After my shower, I brushed my teeth, got dressed, then went into the kitchen of my small, one-bedroom apartment. I said good morning to Pierre, my pet rock, then opened a cupboard and reached for a mug. But before I could lay a hand on one, there was a loud rattle, then a large cup came sailing out of the cupboard and headed straight for my head.

I quickly dodged it, and felt it brush the top of my head as it sped by. It kept flying until it hit the opposite wall, smashing into thousands of pieces. I watched in dismay as the shattered pieces scattered all over the floor. I let out a groan of frustration. This was going to be hell to clean up.

{Hehehe!! Almost gotcha, Cam-Cam!!} taunted a small, childish voice.

I glanced towards the hallway leading to the bathroom and my bedroom, and frowned as I saw something white flit from one doorway to another. I sighed as I realized what it was.

"Emi, what did you do that for? That's the fifth cup you've destroyed this month!" I said in exasperation.

{You forgot to leave the blinds open!} A small girl, about five years old, stepped out of the hallway and walked to the middle of the kitchen, crossing her arms over her chest. She stood there with a little pout on her angelic face, blue eyes narrowed, her blond curls framing her face in pigtails, and wearing a lacy white dress. The epitome of innocence. Yeah, right. {I didn't get to see the sunrise!}

"Emi, I got home late last night. I was tired, so excuse me if I forgot to open the blinds! Besides, why do you want to see the sunrise? Haven't you seen enough of it already?" I realized I had said the wrong thing as the girl's eyes narrowed even further.

{You're right!} she hissed out, {I should be tired of seeing it by now! After all, I've been watching it for years now. It's not like it makes me feel better just by watching it. It's not like it helps me feel alive for a few seconds!} she spat out sarcastically. She abruptly swung one of her arms out, pointed to something with an evil and vicious grin, then quickly vanished into thin air.

I watched in horror as a crack appeared on Pierre, my pet rock. I cried out and rushed over, but I knew it was too late. The crack quickly grew, and then, with a loud crack!, Pierre broke in half.


I grabbed the two halves and attempted to fit them back together in a futile attempt to fix him. But he was too far gone. And as a small chunk of Pierre broke off and fell to the floor, he finally died.

"Can you believe it?! She killed Pierre!" I smacked a hamburger down onto the grill, wincing a little as some oil flew off and hit me in the arm.

"Well...I don't really blame her. You were pretty rude, after all," my best friend - and also the person to whom I was complaining to - said. Allison and I had been friends since 5th grade. We had met when she had saved me from a rabid squirrel. We had been best buds ever since then, all through high school, and did practically everything together. And right now, we were working together at Spanky's, a small diner in our small town, she as a waitress, and me as a cook.

"Well, yeah," I agreed grudgingly. "But that doesn't give her the right to kill someone innocent!"

"Cam, you shouldn't be so harsh. Imagine if you were her, huh? She just wants to do something that she can enjoy. Don't you think you'd want to be able to have a small comfort like watching the sunset if you were dead?"

I sighed at her logic and flipped the burger.

If you haven't realized it by now, Emi is actually a ghost. She has been haunting my apartment building for God knows how long. And once she found out that I could see and talk to her, she has been pestering me non-stop. The only reason why I don't exorcise her is because she doesn't mean any harm. She's just lonely.

Like me...

I have tried to get her to pass on, but she seems stuck on staying here on Earth. And I don't really mind her hanging around my home. We keep each other company...when we're not at each other's throats.

"Hey, Cam! Did you hear me?"

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Ginger, another waitress at the diner. Of course, she wasn't just any waitress; She was also the owner. And she was also like a mother to me.

"Huh?" was my knowledgeable reply.

"I said, I need two burgers, hold the onions, and a batch of fries."

I winced a little at her sharp tone, but made up the order nonetheless. I rang the little bell, telling Ginger the order was ready. She scowled at me since she was right next to the bell, and I had no need to ring it. I gave her one of my patented goofy grins, and she couldn't help but smile in response. After all, no one can resist what Allison calls one of my 'Camond Mikels' idiot smiles.' She rolled her eyes at me, then took the order to one of the tables.

A few hours later, I was making some eggs and bacon for Mr. Reynolds, a kind, old man who comes here almost every day and gets the same thing, when the little bell above the door signaled someone coming into the diner. There was a lull in the customers, so I glanced up for a second, then did a double take.

A man stood at the entrance, looking around for a place to sit. But it wasn't unusual for someone to come in and do the same thing that the man was doing. We get a lot of truckers, so it's not uncommon for a stranger to show up. I didn't start start gaping at him because I was envious of his boots, though.

No, I was staring at him because he was Hot. With a capital H. He was the much used saying; Tall, dark, and handsome. His medium-length, curly black hair framed his face and hung in his eyes, which were a blue so vivid, they had to be illegal, and he had a day's worth of stubble on his sharply chiseled face. He had high cheekbones, and his nose had a small bump on the bridge of it, suggesting it had once been broken. He was wearing a dark blue button up shirt and some tight blue jeans that showed off, well...ass-ets. He also excluded an air of confidence that I could never even begin to wish for, and he looked to be around 25 years old.

"Oh. My. God. I think I just fell in love," Allison whispered to me. She was perched on the counter in front of the register, the novel she was reading laying forgotten in her lap, and blatantly staring at the guy.

The diner was set up in a rectangular shape, with the door to the outside opposite from the kitchen. The kitchen was set at the back, but the wall that was supposed to block the view of the kitchen from the dining area had been knocked down from the waist up years ago. So, if customers wanted to, they could sit at the bar and watch the cook grill their food.

And that's exactly what the guy did.

He walked up to the bar and sat down on a stool, parallel to me and my grill. Ginger rushed over, gave him the customary greeting and a menu. She asked what he wanted to drink, then got it for him and rushed off to tend to the other customers. He opened the menu, and I openly stared at him as he read.

"You're drooling!" Allison hissed at me.

My eyes snapped to her, then I quickly glanced back at the guy, and saw he was looking at me with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. He winked at me, and I felt my cheeks grow red. I quickly looked down and continued cooking, selfconsciously wiping the side of my mouth. I silently cursed Allison. She may be my best friend, but she sure can be a pain at times.

{Oohh. Who's the hot guy?}

I jumped at the voice behind me. Looking backwards, I saw Tony, the ghost who haunts the diner, behind me. Today, he sported the injuries he'd gotten when he died; a large gash on his head, and a sharp scrap of metal poking through him from his back straight through his chest. The blood was a striking slash of red on his pristine white dress shirt. His tux had a few rips and tears, and he was missing a shoe.

"I don't know," I answered, turning back to the grill.

"What?" Allison asked, giving me a questioning look.

I stared at her, confused for a second, when I realized I must have spoken louder than I thought.

"Tony," I explained. She was one of the few people who actually knew I could see ghosts. Everyone else just thought I was the crazy grill cook at the diner who talked to himself all the time.

"Oh," she said, nodding in understanding. She went back to pretending to read her book, while casting covert glances at the guy at the counter, and I turned the grill off and began to clean up a little of the mess in the kitchen.

As I was cleaning the grill, I noticed the room started to get a little chilly. I looked around, but no else seemed to notice it, so I shrugged to myself and ignored it. But soon, the temperature dropped low enough that I could see my breath every time I breathed. I looked around, but, still, no one else seemed to notice it. I was beginning to get a little worried. All of a sudden, I felt my chest slowly begin to constrict, and it became harder to breath. It felt like there was a huge pressure trying to crush my body.

I clutched my neck, my chest, anywhere, trying to suck air into my lungs, but nothing seemed to work. My lungs were beginning to burn now, crying out for oxygen. The cleaning brush dropped from my suddenly limp hands, and I watched as it fell to the floor and silently hit the ground in slow motion. I felt my knees grow weak, and I fell to the ground, catching myself just in time before I did a face plant. On all fours, I watched as a bunch of pans noiselessly hit the ground, mere inches from hitting my head on the way down. I must have knocked into them on my way down.

My arms slowly gave out, until my forehead was resting on the ground, and my ass was sticking up in the air. Now, normally, I'd be embarrassed by this, but since my vision was beginning to cloud with small, black dots, I didn't really notice. I was gasping for air and my knees were starting to slide out from under me, when I felt strong arms suddenly grab me under the arms and flip me over until I was on my back.

It was the hot guy. I saw his eyes filled with concern, and I saw his lips moving, but no sound was coming out. Or maybe I just couldn't hear him. Movement behind him caught my attention. I looked behind him, and my eyes widened as I saw what I knew to be the cause of my suffering.

There was a young man bending over us. He was one of the dead, and very pale, with a gaping hole in his chest, and blood all over his clothes. But what convinced me that he was the one doing this was the pure rage and hatred in his eyes. He noticed me looking at him, and gave an evil grin, sending chills down my back.

My eyes began to feel unbearably heavy. I tried to inhale a desperate breath, but it didn't work. There was a load roaring noise in my ear, almost like a waterfall. But there weren't any waterfalls nearby. So where was the noise coming from? Did we suddenly get a waterfall that I didn't know about? Or, even worse, was I dying, and this was the last thing that I would ever hear? But...There are so many things I still wanted to do! I can't die yet!

I felt my eyes slowly began to drift close as the roaring got steadily louder. The last thought I had as my vision went black was I should have had that extra helping of cheesecake yesterday...