"Is this safe?"
Eleanor asked anxiously after taking a bite from a grilled fish skewered on a slim piece of driftwood in her hands.
The two teenagers sat beside a small fire they had made on the deck of the Ghostship, using a random assortment of debris from the sea.
Aaron laughed at her question and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a tiny burn mark on his right forearm.
"I once dropped some burning food onto the deck, and it didn't even leave a scuff. I tested it a few times after that, but the ship just wouldn't catch on fire, no matter what I did.. I guess if it wasn't fireproof, then we wouldn't be here now, would we?"
Eleanor stared at his arm for a while, a mix of worry and fascination in her eyes, before resuming their friendly conversation.
At the helm of the ship, two illusory figures flickered in the pale moonlight like ghosts.
Wisps of turquoise flame enveloped their bodies, anchoring them to the vessel while still allowing them to move freely across the deck.
"Can you remember this?"
The ghostly Aaron turned to face the childlike Eleanor, who watched the scene unfold with a blank expression.
She simply nodded, her eyes fixed on the older version of herself with quiet curiosity.
Near the bonfire, their past selves stopped laughing as the conversation took a more serious turn.
"How much can you remember about your past?"
The older Eleanor spoke softly, casting a cautious glance at Aaron.
"Not much, I guess… Just bits and pieces like names and faces."
He sighed and took a bite of the fish, only to instantly jerk back as the searing heat hit his tongue.
"Ah!"
Eleanor laughed while he frantically patted his tongue as if it were on fire; however, the laughter faded quickly, and the mood turned serious once more.
"Memories are sometimes a curse."
She spoke quietly.
"But they can also be a blessing."
The fire crackled between them as Aaron listened intently, studying her expression.
He thought carefully before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Good and bad memories are just two sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other."
She paused, taking in his words, before responding thoughtfully.
"They are what make us human."
Aaron smiled at her and leaned back, only to lose his balance and fall over.
The tension broke as Eleanor burst out laughing, barely able to speak.
"How do you go from preaching wisdom to acting like a toddler this fast? Is this a side effect of memory loss or something?"
Aaron sat up, grumbling under his breath, but his reply came out with far more weight than she expected.
"I wouldn't know…"
He lowered his gaze to the wooden planks of the deck, his eyes distant and unfocused, as the mood turned somber again.
His head was a jumbled mess with scattered thoughts, missing pieces, and entire sections just blank.
Eleanor stayed quiet, unsure of what to say as silence stretched between them.
Meanwhile, the two ghostly figures had moved from the helm towards the bow, listening to the conversation at the campfire without a word.
Aaron's illusory form glittered faintly as he watched the younger Eleanor, who stared at the scene in front of them, her expression wavering yet impossible to read.
He couldn't tell whether it was longing, nostalgia, or sadness, but he knew one thing for certain.
It's working.
He turned his gaze from the blonde-haired child back to their past selves, who still sat in silence.
The older Eleanor tilted her head to the side, directing her eyes to the bow where the spectators observed.
"Oh, it's Mr. Crab."
She pointed at the railing beside the illusory Aaron, causing him to sigh in relief.
I thought she could see us for a…
As the words coursed through his mind, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Mr. Crab's gaze was not focused on the two by the bonfire but instead fixed somewhere else.
"H-He's looking right at us."
The crustacean's black pupils stared at their forms before waving its claw and vanishing into the mast of the ship.
From the bonfire, he heard the old Eleanor mumble something about the crab's disappearance; however, what was running through his mind overwhelmed him beyond belief.
T-This is just a memory… How could he see us? Even if he entered into this dreamworld with us then how could Eleanor in the illusion see him?
Beside him, the childlike girl looked back and forth from where the small creature was and where Aaron stood now.
She suddenly spoke with hints of curiosity slipping into her voice.
"Door."
Aaron whipped around, facing the girl in confusion, noticing her hand pointed at the cabin.
"Y-You spoke?"
He looked at her, watching her nod in affirmation before walking off ahead of him towards the captain's cabin.
"H-Hey, wait a second!"
Rushing to follow her, Aaron jumped from the short incline of the bow down to the normal deck, tailing behind.
At the fire, the past version of the two had restarted their conversation with an interesting topic that caught the illusory Aaron's focus, stopping him in his tracks.
"Do you ever wonder what your lost memories are like?"
Ahead of him, the younger Eleanor also halted, turning her attention to the chat.
"I sometimes wonder about things… Why did I wake up on this ship? Who is that old man in my visions?"
He paused for a moment.
"Yet even with these curiosities, I understand that the truth might be more terrifying than I could imagine."
Across from him, Eleanor nodded and lamented once again.
"I liked it better when you weren't so glum."
Listening to her response, he simply shrugged and took another bite of his skewer, whispering under his breath.
"Glum… Is that how I sound?"
It was a rhetorical question, yet Eleanor spoke again with a warm reply.
"Maybe, but is it so bad to be realistic?"
He looked at her and sighed before rebutting.
"I thought you said you liked it better when I wasn't so glum?"
She laughed, throwing the rest of her skewer overboard to Aaron's horror.
"Hey, wait! That was perfectly good meat!"
He stood up but quickly sat back down after Eleanor said something again.
"Whether you're glum or not doesn't matter. It's your actions that define you, and I'm sure that no matter the situation, you'll always make the right choice."
The ghostly manifestation of Aaron watched the two with a smile on his face as he turned to the childlike Eleanor, who was staring at the captain's door.
He furrowed his brows, walking closer, following her eyes to an unfamiliar point on the door.
Engraved on the hardwood surface was something unusual and unique that he had never seen before.
"Aaron."
Her mouth moved before he could say it himself.
What rested on the doorway was his name in a similar manner to the entrance to Eleanor's mind; however, this one was different.
Very different.
Cobwebs coated the surface with ruby colored goo seeping from the crack beneath, muddying their shoes.
The engraving itself was written in a messy font with black dust floating around the handle as if it were poison.
Each corner was adorned with a green stone that reflected off the firelight like a mirror, drawing his attention to it like a moth to a flame.
Aaron reached for the handle but stopped himself suddenly.
I-I shouldn't… Something isn't right…
He backed up slowly, checking the reactions of his past self, noticing no changes in his behavior.
Eleanor's ghostly figure stepped closer, placing her hand against the solid doorknob, turning in a clockwise direction.
Aaron caught this out of the corner of his eye, with an unexplainable urge to run, setting deep into his bones.
"Creak–"
Behind the ancient doorway lay darkness.
Pure, uninterrupted darkness like he had never seen before.
He wanted to run, but something forced him to stay.
Aaron picked up his feet slowly, inching closer to the void as Eleanor watched, unmoving.
N-No, this isn't good. I need to run now!
Trying to prevent his fate, he grabbed onto anything that he could, which just so happened to include the childlike Eleanor.
"O-Oh."
Her confused voice slipped out as the force pulled him deeper and deeper into the doorway, calling to him.
They dragged their feet against the floorboards to no avail as they reached the entrance, practically clawing their way out.
I can't go in. Whatever I do, I MUST not enter that door.
With the last of his strength, he pushed himself forward, tackling Eleanor to the floor and catching a glance of what lay behind the darkness.
Eyes.
Piercing yellow eyes stared at him from the abyss, calling out for him to enter.
Aaron's blood ran cold as a bone-chilling shudder rocked his soul.
He felt his body warping itself into different forms as if he were putty, pulling every fiber of his being in various directions.
Finally, with a single sound, Aaron's grip crumbled, sucking him and Eleanor into the doorway, which promptly shut behind them without a sound.
By the bonfire, their past selves turned around, furrowing their brows.
"Did you hear something?"
"Nope, nothing."
They shrugged off the strange occurrence, turning their attention back to their conversation, ignoring Mr. Crab, who was perched on the top of the mast, looking downward at the door.
His beady black eyes betrayed a look of sadness as he vanished in a bright blue blur, leaving only a snap in his wake.