projection, or recognition?

“There is something frightening about you." darkened hours and the emanation of their rotten brain fogs. It was a time of reminiscence and remembrances.

Two people, one topic. The same knowledge, yet the delivery is almost unmistakably different. [Redacted] turned his head to the side, revealing what his ivory locks hid under its chaste-like light. He smiles, a radiant sort of smile that feigns innocence and ditziness.

"Then perhaps you've seen a ghost, have you not?"

A faint chuckle left him, as his eyes were once again lured back to the never-changing entity, celestial lune.

There was a connection, there was resonance, and she recognised it like no other.

Her eyes trailed down to the ground, her lips parted, unsure how to put the coming words more delicately. For she does not have the sophisticated grace of a magician, and the false sense of hope that said magician could weave with his untouchable hands of gossip and surprises.

A fragile breath, she ventures: "You are a ghost."

Audacious, yet well-intended. [Redacted]’s eyebrow twitched, unsure how to respond. Perhaps it was a silent acknowledgement, agreement, or perhaps he didn't want to be a fool.

She knew, and she continued to push him. provoke him, to prove a point. "you are a ghost of your old self."

"I have been reborn, you—"

"You have turned into an upside down reflection of your sins. To be reborn means to find acceptance, to look at your past and acknowledge it. You are dead, [Redacted], you have been murdered."

On these grasslands, on this hill. People have gone to sleep, only a bat and its phantom could float around and enjoy the twilight, on these moving fields. This different realm. A breeze brushes [Redacted]’s hair, challenging him, urging him to show more.

More.

More of what?

Two eyes, one scar, a light that was present only a few seconds ago. Was the magician caught, were there no tricks up his sleeve? A scoff, a breathless smirk, too tense to replenish himself with the fresh breezes that continue to rake through his hair. As if the air around him was poisoned.

"You are projecting." His eyes narrowed, with a smile of all-knowingness adorning him. Oh, silly anomaly, there she goes again. Desperately trying to target people with a 'lack of humanity'.