Eugene

Eugene hadn't known many ghosts in all his centuries of living. He had seen a few here and there in the passing years, in cemeteries, churches and forests. But in actuality, they were few and far between. Supernaturals, like werewolves, fae and vampire were more common, just a lot better hidden.

So when he had arrived at the 5th house viewing of that day, on the 5th anniversary of the supposed suicide that had taken place there his senses were already on edge. In all his years of living, the one thing he had learnt was that coincidences rarely happened. He had his Sire to thank for that.

Seeing a young woman, standing in the window the moment he arrived had only confirmed his suspicions. From the moment he saw her, he was enchanted. She had long, wavy brown hair, a cherry pink birthmark on the back of her neck, rich hazel eyes and porcelain skin. It was obvious she was hurting, lost and alone. It pulled on his dead heart strings.

After years of being involved with the supernatural, seeing the unfair bloodshed, stuck as merely a pawn in an unjust war. He was done with it. All he wanted to do was hole himself away for the next century away from humans and supernaturals altogether. So he was conflicted, if he moved in he would be exposing himself to the supernatural world once again. On the other hand, Annalise's overwhelming curiosity and willingness to talk to him almost won him over.

When he had seen her crying in the kitchen, his heart had pulled and tugged in his chest. Eugene knew he was going to be coming back. She was dead, and he was undead, it wasn't exactly like much could happen anyways?

Soon Eugene would find out just how wrong he was.

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Annalise

After their conversation in the living room, things had grown much more comfortable between them. Annalise had actually been able to hold more than just a few conversations with him. She had learned he'd actually been born in the 17th century, how he loved to read and how he had actually written a few books himself. All under different names and aliases to stop people from catching on to who he really was.

She had told him about her life pre-murder. About her mum and brother, the times she had spent with them baking and cooking. The things they used to do, and the friends she had made. Despite this her death was still the elephant in the room, a sore point she didn't want to touch but she had to.

She might be dead, and unable to do anything about it. But Eugene certainly wasn't. And maybe, just maybe since now they were sort of friends, he would do something about it. Annalise wanted to know with a burning passion who had killed her and why. There were so many things she had left unsaid before she died, so many things she wanted to do and now couldn't.

Annalise wanted to tell her mum how much she loved her, how it wasn't her fault and it was okay to move on. She wanted her brother to know that she still supports him, that he could become an engineer, and how he shouldn't get into any trouble and cause their mum any grief. She longed to meet up with her friends, Noah and Mia one last time, go to a pub and buy them a round of drinks, then tell them how much she loves them.

All of these things, the murderer took from her. All the things she could never get back.

In spite of all of this, she didn't want revenge. She just wanted closure. All Annalise longed for was closure, and she was hoping, praying that Eugene could help her. Her 'plan' was to ambush him when he came back from his nightly 'adventures' and confess to him what had happened that day. She hadn't told him yet, and he at least deserved to know that much before she asked anything of him.

The familiar creak of the front doors alerted her of his arrival. Eagerly she raced to the hallway, where she stood in front of him. The smell of aftershave, and something metallic, followed him as he passed her and into the kitchen. It was faint and distant, as her senses always had been after death

"Eugene?" She called after him. He popped his head round the kitchen doorway and back into the hallway, an errant strand of blonde hair falling into his eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked, brows furrowing in concern.

"It's nothing, but can we talk? I want to tell you something," Annalise said. He nodded slowly, gesturing to her to come into the kitchen with an elegant hand.

"Come in," he said. Annalise followed him, sitting on the chair opposite him. She could never understand her interaction with the real world. Sometimes, she could touch and interact with things, other times she'd phase through as if she herself wasn't real.

"What is it you want to talk about?" Eugene asked with apprehension, tapping his fingers on the table. Annalise had long since learnt that it was a sign he was nervous.

"Don't worry," She smiled, reaching for his hand, then changing her mind halfway. "Its not about you, its about my murder." Within a snap, his fingers stopped their drumming. He leant towards her.

"You do not have to tell me anything, if you're concerned about that," Though the words sounded rude, his voice was soft.

"No, no I want to. I think you deserve to know, you live here. But I must admit, the reason I want to tell you is entirely selfish," She looked down at the table, with a sardonic smile. He nodded once again, waving a hand to urge her to continue. "As you know I was murdered here. I was stabbed to death in that hallway." She explained, pointing to the hallway they had just come from.

"I was stupid, god I was so stupid. That day I received an email, supposedly from a friend asking if I could meet them up here. I shouldn't have believed it, I mean who sends an email nowadays?" She rambled, self consciously touching the back of her neck. "When I arrived, no one was here, of course. The door was open, so I let myself in. The minute I stepped into the hallway I felt like I was being punched repeatedly. I couldn't stop it." Her voice croaked, as she held back tears.

"I only saw him for a second, and even then I couldn't make out anything, cause my eyes were covered in blood. When I looked down I saw I'd been stabbed, so, so many times. He'd still left the knife in my stomach when he fled." Annalise looked up at the ceiling, in an attempt to stop her tears.

Eugene looked sullen, his mouth drawn down into a frown. He reached for her face, despite him phasing through and not being able to really touch her, he kept it there in a semblance of a caress. "I'm sorry, I truly am for what happened to you. No one should have to go through that," Annalise felt the tears pooling at her eyes once more, at the gesture.

She shook her head, "It's not your fault, besides I said the reason I was telling you is selfish. I need your help." Slowly, his hand fell from where her cheek was. "I need you to help find out who killed me. And why. I just want closure, then maybe I can move on or something. Thats what they do in the movies right?" she rambled.

For a long silence he simply sat there, staring at her. His hand led on the table, where it fell from her cheek. "That's not exactly a small order," Eugene remarked drily, moving his hand to rest his head on. Annalise's stomach dropped. "But it's not something that can't be done. I'll help, but the minute I want to pull out of it, I will. No questions asked."

The tears stopped pooling at her eyes, joy sweeping for her body like a tidal wave. "You're serious?" She asked, hand clenched on the table to lean close to him. Their noses were practically touching when he nodded. "Thank you! Thank you!" she shouted, her eyes crinkling as a smile spread across her face. You don't know how much this means to me,"

"Don't get your hopes up yet, I'm not sure what I'll find or how."