The Pervert Ghost

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Thousands of people die around the world daily in many different ways. The death of 18-year-old Colin Murphy in Adelaide, South Australia in 2001 is a classic case of a death by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. After dying Colin does not 'cross over' as he thinks he might, but rather remains an invisible ghost that nobody can see or sense. At first Colin is frustrated and put out by this and spends his time wishing he was still alive, until one day when the young man realises he can use his power for bad things, and spy on pretty girls at their most private moments ...

Please note that this story - an entry in the Halloween 2020 contest - contains graphic fetish scenes involving a ghost spying on girls who are using the toilet and having their periods, so if these subject matters are not to your taste, this might not be for you. Otherwise, please enjoy and rate and comment. All characters and events are completely fictional with any similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. Only characters aged 18 and older are involved in any sexual situations.

*

BANG!

Had I been living in London during the Second World War when The Blitz was in full swing, the almighty explosion that nearly knocked me off my feet would have probably been attributed to a bomb going off. However, I did not live in England during the 1940s. It was 2001 and I lived in Adelaide, South Australia. Therefore, the source of the explosion was not due to a bomb exploding, but rather the thunder from a lightning strike close by.

This Friday saw the warm April weather -- unseasonably hot for South Australia for this time of year -- continue, and I had awoken to the sixth fine and sunny day in a row, the temperature soaring up to the mid-30s. The weather bureau had forecast a humid change to come in around noon, showers by late afternoon turning to rain by evening with thunderstorms likely.

For once the forecast was spot on. Large clouds made themselves apparent in the sapphire blue South Australian skies by around 11 am, and the skies were an ominous dark grey by 1 pm, the sunlight completely gone. The heat in the morning had been dry heat -- more typical for Adelaide with its Mediterranean climate -- but was very humid in the increasingly dark afternoon, feeling more like the Northern Territory capital Darwin or the Northern Queensland cities Cairns or Townsville.

Rain began to fall across Adelaide around 3 pm and persisted all through the afternoon and into the evening. Lightning strikes were clear in the dark clouds, making for spectacular sights above the tall buildings of Adelaide CBD, across the Mount Lofty Ranges to the east of the city and over beachside suburbs like Glenelg.

I would have enjoyed spending the Friday at Glenelg given there were few things quite as good as a swim in the cooling waters of the Southern Ocean on a hot and humid South Australian day but I did not have this luxury. I was 18-years-old and turning 19 in May and a university student, studying for a Bachelor of Science degree.

My morning had consisted of a lecture and then a tutorial, followed by working on a group assignment in the afternoon. This was pretty good because Emma was in the group. Since the start of the year I had been noticing Emma more and more. She was big girl, very tall with a big bone structure and overweight but not obese. She was very pretty with long dark hair and I had to admit I had a bit of a crush on her. I had thought about asking her out a few times, but lost my nerve and chickened out every time. Then I left the university campus mid-afternoon to drive to my part time job as an attendant in a sandwich shop at a local shopping center. Emma worked at the same shopping center as a waitress in a coffee shop, but she was not rostered on this evening to my slight disappointment.

The rain poured down outside the shop as I worked my shift, pleased to be rostered with a nice and very pretty Japanese girl named Kimiko who like me was 18 and a student at the same university.

"Take care driving home in all this bad weather Colin," Kimiko called as she put her umbrella up and went to her father's car, where her Dad was waiting to collect her.

"You too Kimiko, see you next time," I said, running through the rain to my car, my blonde hair and the shirt of my work uniform somewhat saturated by the time I did.

Hoping it would start -- it was aging and not the greatest car on the road -- I was in luck and drove home through the teeming rain, lightning strikes illuminating the dark and sultry night, the cheerful sounds of the latest S Club 7 song playing on the car radio a sharp contrast to the gloomy night. Home for me was a house I shared with three other university students. Originally I was from South Australia's Fleurieu Peninsula not far from Victor Harbor where I had grown up with my parents, brother and two sisters but of course had to move to Adelaide to study at university when I finished high school.

My housemates were Ben and his pretty blonde girlfriend Holly and there was another guy called Mitch. We were all about the same ages and Ben and Holly shared one bedroom, Mitch and I had another bedroom each. Mitch also had a girlfriend named Amanda, a petite brunette who almost always wore dark clothing. It was a pretty good house, just to the north of the city and I liked living there, it was pretty handy for everything. Tonight I would have the house to myself, Ben and Holly were staying overnight with some friends and Mitch was staying with Amanda, with her parents and younger brother out of town for the weekend.

Turning into the driveway I pulled the car to a halt and was just getting out of it when the fork of lightning struck down from the skies. The crash of thunder was instantaneous and I felt the heat and force of the strike, it knocked me backwards and the white light from the flash was all I could see for about a second.

Feeling stunned as my vision cleared, I breathed heavily feeling a combination of fear, shock and relief. Fuck was that was close. If I was a cat, I would have lost one of my nine lives. My head still spinning, I thought I had better get inside in case there were any more lightning strikes. Plus it was pouring down, and if I stayed in the driving rain I would be soaked.

Staggering to the front door, feeling most disoriented after my near miss with the lighting, I thought about the rain and how strange it was tonight. I should be drenched but didn't seem to be getting wet. I didn't speculate upon it and going back into the house, went into my bedroom and sat on the bed.

I was feeling very tired and about to change to go straight to bed, but as soon as I lay back and listened to the rain on the patio roof and the claps of thunder, flashes of lightning illuminating my bedroom from outside, sleep overcame me straight away, and I fell fast asleep on top of my bed wearing my work uniform and shoes and slept through the night.

When I awoke the next morning, I could see the daylight coming through a gap in my slightly open curtains. It was still raining outside, but drizzle not like the heavy downpours of last night. On such a humid and stormy night, I should have been feeling sweaty having slept all night in my clothes. I didn't and in fact I couldn't feel the high humidity at all.

Sitting up on my bed, I could hear voices and other noises from outside along with something I hadn't noticed when I woke up, the flashes of a blue and red lights like from an emergency vehicle. Probably the police had caught somebody speeding again, it wasn't unusual along this road.

Stretching, I stood up off the bed and stopped. Usually when I woke up, I felt two things. First, super thirsty and second, the need to pee. Today I felt nothing. This was a bit weird but oh well. I walked towards the door and noticed that I had left it open, which was unusual for me as I normally closed the bedroom door at night. Probably just forgot after the lightning incident and being so tired after a long day at work.

The noises continued outside, and I paused. This didn't sound like a normal traffic incident, something more was going on. My curiosity turning to concern, I walked over to the window and peered through a gap in the curtains. My eyes went wide and my mouth dropped open at what I saw.

The front garden was filled with police and paramedics, the area of the driveway next to my car taped off. I noticed that my car door was open, and for a few moments pondered how stupid I could have been to leave the door of my car open in a thunderstorm. If it didn't get stolen or ransacked by passing thieves, it would definitely get wet.

My thoughts of my car lasted only a few seconds, whatever was going on was more important. It looked very serious. I pushed the curtains back to get a better view. Or to be exact, I attempted to push them back further, but could not seem to do so. Dismissing this as a minor irritation, I looked out into the front garden again.

Nearby stood Ben and Holly, and with them were the retired married couple Thelma and Don who lived next door. They were a nice couple but today they looked really worried. Ben held Holly in his arms stroking her long blonde hair and she was crying, not just weeping, absolutely sobbing, Thelma handing her tissues.

In our driveway the police had taped off the area around my car and the paramedics had covered something with a tarpaulin. But what? Whatever was covered by the canvas was about human sized, and given the reactions of people who were around the scene, it must have been somebody they knew.

Was it Mitch? Oh no, had he come back early this morning and something happened to him? If not him, maybe his girlfriend Amanda? Feeling panic, I rushed for the front door, and in my urgency to get outside I was unable to turn the door handle, but somehow must have done it because next thing I knew I was outdoors and into the humid and drizzly Adelaide morning.

Again like last night, the falling rain didn't seem to affect me, I didn't get wet. Running towards Ben, Holly and the couple next door I called out, "Ben, what's happened?"

Ben continued to comfort his crying girlfriend and showed no reaction to me. Nor did Holly, Thelma or Don.

"Thelma, Don, what's going on, is somebody hurt?" I asked urgently.

Again, no reaction, they simply looked straight through me as if I was not there. Feeling increasingly worried, I tapped Ben on the shoulder to get his attention. Again, nothing, he did not respond at all. I went over to where the police and paramedics were to see if they could tell me what was happening.

"Hello!" I said to them, but like with the others, they gave no indication that they had seen or heard me.

A van arrived at the scene, and the man and woman got out, went across and were talking to the police and paramedics and from their conversation, they were from the Coroner's Office. Both put on gloves, and I watched intently, seemingly still invisible, as the man pulled back the tarpaulin to reveal who lay underneath.

I was bracing myself for an unpleasant shock, thinking my friend Mitch or maybe his girlfriend Amanda was under the canvas. I should have been relieved when neither Mitch nor Amanda was revealed to be the dead person, and half of me was. The other half of me however was filled with shock and horror. The dead body under the canvas was me.

*

Reeling in shock, I staggered backwards. No, this was not possible, I was alive, I could see, hear and smell things, I could think. I could see myself, not my face obviously, but I looked fine. I was still clothed, wearing my sandwich shop uniform and shoes. The version of me on the ground however, not nearly so fine.

"Hello, hello, hello!" I called out, running around waving my arms. No reaction, nobody noticed me at all.

Panic surging through my body, I thought back to last night. I couldn't be dead. I had opened the door to get inside the house last night.

Or had I?

Try as I might, I could not remember opening the door to get inside the house last night. How had I gotten outside this morning when I was having problems opening the door? What about the curtains in my bedroom, how I couldn't pull them aside when I looked out to see what was going on.

I stood in the drizzle not getting wet, my sense of fear growing with each second that passed. I ran at the house and tried to turn the front door handle. I could not grasp it to turn it, but when I stepped towards it I went through both closed doors -- the security screen doors and the wooden front door -- with no problem and stood in the front hallway. I tried to take my pulse and there was nothing at all, not even a slight beat in my wrist.

Running through the house I dashed into the bathroom and stopped short at what I saw -- or more exactly what I didn't see -- in the mirror. Nothing. Nothing at all. I had no reflection in the glass. I waved at myself as if that would do any good, but nothing. It was like I wasn't there at all, as though I was a ...

I couldn't bring myself to even think the five letter word that started with a G and rhymed with post, and ran back outside, again passing through two closed doors as though I wasn't there at all. I stood with the police, paramedics and coroner's office staff looking down at myself as I lay lifeless in the driveway next to my car.

The version of me on the ground made for a horrifying sight, my blue eyes wide open and staring, my blonde hair singed and what looked like burn marks on my face and arms. An unpleasant smell was evident like burning skin and hair.

"Colin, wake up, wake up!" I yelled at my lifeless body on the ground.

My body, clearly affected by rigor mortis, did not respond to my pleas, and nor did anyone except myself hear my words.

The man from the coroner's office said, "There will need to be a post mortem of course, but given the injuries and condition of the young man's body and the weather conditions last night it appears to be a lightning strike."

The woman from the coroner's office shook her head. "I've never seen a death by lightning before."

Her colleague nodded. "No, most people never do," he said. "I've seen one case years ago, a farmer who was struck in his field. It's very rare, I mean everyone says that if something is unlikely you've got more chance of being struck by lightning."

I looked and listened in disbelief as the officials went about their work, and noticed other neighbors in the street out in their gardens looking across, cars slowing down to see what was going on. The horrible realization swept over me. I hadn't merely been close to the fork of lightning last night, it had struck me directly. I thought that the bright light that filled my eyes at that moment was simply the flash of the powerful electrical bolt, it was that 'bright light' that people who had recovered from near death experiences had spoken of.

Still I didn't want to face the reality that I was dead, and now a dreaded five letter word starting with G. I was 18-years-old turning 19 in just over six weeks' time, I was too young to die when I had my whole life ahead of me. I didn't want to be dead, I wanted to be alive. And to die from being struck by lightning of all things?

Two of the cops carried a body bag over. Holly, still crying in Ben's arms, was clearly more distressed by this and the others moved her inside so she couldn't see any more. I stood watching as my own dead body was lifted up and placed in the body bag, the bag zipped up and placed in the back of the van.

As soon as the van door slammed closed, a feeling of terror and panic came over me and I took to my heels. I ran down the street at speed, trying to make sense of what was happening. With a tall slim build, I was a pretty good runner, and had excelled at track and field in high school and played Australian Rules Football for the university team, but this morning it seemed I could run as fast and as hard as I liked without feeling anything, no raised heartbeat, no perspiration, no sign of fatigue. I was wearing black sneakers, shoes designed for comfort rather than running, but felt nothing from my feet, no soreness or anything. I just continued to run through the rain, not getting wet, passing people who could not see or hear me.

My running was fairly aimless, I had no idea of where I was running to or what I was running from, but the house where I lived was about 8 kilometers north of the CBD, and I could see the top of the State Bank Building -- Adelaide's tallest skyscraper which was had a distinctive brown color like sandstone and an unusual trapezoid shape -- in the distance, so turned and ran towards the city center. I soon reached the River Torrens and ran through the parklands, reaching and passing the zoo and botanic gardens, then further along until I reached the King William Street Bridge which I could use to cross the river into Adelaide itself.

I stopped at the bridge, looking at a cathedral and the Adelaide Oval across the way and the river banks, a scenic rotunda on the path that led to the Performing Arts and South Australian Convention Center on the southern side. There was an older man to my left side, two young women on my right side and all four of us looked down into the muddy river waters of the Torrens. I could see their reflections but not my own, nor could they see me in person.

There was a large truck driving across the bridge and in desperation hoping that somebody could see me, I went and stood in its path, hoping the driver would see me and brake or other pedestrians would see me and become alarmed. He of course did not see me and nor did anyone else, and I stepped back onto the pavement as the enormous vehicle sped by.

Going on my way up King William Street, I saw the clock on the Adelaide Railway Station strike the hour and I continued on my journey, although my destination was not clear. The drizzling rain became heavier, and people raised umbrellas or scrambled to get under cover. It had no effect on me, I could see hear and smell the rain, but I could not feel it.

I reached the Rundle Mall which as was usually the case very busy with shoppers and other people enjoying a Saturday -- albeit a very wet Saturday -- for an outing in Adelaide City. I walked through the shops both the modern stores and Adelaide's famed historical arcades cutting from Rundle Mall to Grenfell Street and back again. Walking back to King William Street the tram went by, heading for Glenelg.

Turning back into Rundle Mall, I lay down on an empty bench. Maybe this was just some terrible, horrible dream. A very vivid dream granted, but what else could it be? Perhaps if I fell asleep, I would wake up and everything would be okay? Or maybe I could not sleep now that I was -- I could not bring myself to think of the word that started with D and rhymed with head.

As it turned out, sleep came easily and I drifted away in the rain I could not feel, and awoke about an hour later, me seeing that a nearby clock had now progressed about an hour from the clock at the Railway Station. It had stopped raining, but the skies were still grey and heavy with clouds.

Initially I was optimistic that everything was okay, but this quickly vanished when I saw that I was not alone on the bench. A fat man -- a very fat man of close to 200 kilograms - sat on me, or to be exact he sat through me. My eyes looked at the bizarre sight, the man completely oblivious to my presence as was everyone else passing by. The fat man, blubber oozing out of his shirt, was devouring a bucket of deep fried chicken and chips washed down with a thick-shake and a bottle of cola, and next to him was a bag of donuts -- donuts covered in chocolate and filled with custard, cream and jam. No wonder he was so fat.