Ren

They say you can hear the sounds of the dead when he walks by.

It hadn't always been this way. He, at one point, was simply a Sage. A simple sorta thing, magic, tonics and potions, his specialty. Then he got a strange visitor-

-and something had compelled him to help.

Now wherever he goes, he hears their conversations. Words they said before they died. Words they said leading up to their death. Words they said before they even knew of the concept.

All of them quietly whispering in his ears. A thunderous roar of emotions that drowns out his hearing. One in particular always stands out.

It took him sometime, so they say, to piece together this particular tragedy. His only motivation to appease the spirits.

They say as he walks black flames are left in the wake of his footsteps. They say those are the souls that are attracted to him, that want to use him, that want to be saved, that want to die.

People avoid him. The spirits' sorrows looking for anyone to hear, to listen, to sympathize, to manipulate.

It is impossible now to get through to him. He is but a carcass that does as the souls command.

So they say.

He knows the story. The Mother didn't lie. He can hear the echo of her family all searching for peace.

The Mother, distraught over her missing daughter, turns to Ren to help find her.

Ren knows who did it. The police gave up the case. The Mother still longing for her daughter, couldn't do anything but search for her. They say she died because she fell asleep behind the wheel. They say she was lucky because she didn't feel anything, having fallen asleep, unaware of the pike and the damage she'd do unto herself.

He knows that it was from grief. The woman does not know of the pike, or of falling asleep, having died long before she reached that stretch of the road. It didn't wind, there was nothing around except the wooden spears the locals put up along the road to dissuade driving into the environment.

So the Father said. How true his words were.

The father had protected his hysterical daughter. Her feet unable to move, the man, bloodied, broken, had grabbed her, and shielded her with his own body. A true father, he concluded. Dying to protect his child.

He wouldn't know. Ren didn't have a family. He doesn't want one either if it means he'll be haunted by their voices.

The girl's body. He knew how to find it. He needed to reunite the family. The mother and father share a grave. He needed to get their child their, then their voices will stop.

He isn't sure, truly. Something about the woman's desperation. His own desire for a family?

The only thing he could figure out doing was bringing the family back together. There was only one way to do that.

It tore at him. The girl was so hopeful to get home. She was sure she could get the police involved, and get herself safe. Back to her mother.

Before him stood a metal door. No paint was on it. He could put together why.

He didn't realize it, but the door had open.

The man in front of him was lanky, too tall for his own good. He was all bone. A rifle rested on the wall behind him. He could feel nothing.

"Whaddya want?" He slurred, spit dribbling down his face.

"I would like for you to haunt my nightmares."

"What the hell does that me-" He couldn't continue, a bullet piercing his head. He stumbled backwards before falling firmly on his back, dead.

He didn't care for this new spirit. He would never be able to get rid of it, that much he was certain.

Without a care, he entered the house. The stench of alcohol was overwhelming his nose. He quickly made his way out the back door.

The yard was about as habitable as the house. no grass could grow on this land, he was sure of it.

THAT he didn't like. He pressed onwards, trying to ignore the new voice.

His feet burned as he walked the yard. He inspected his soles, not a scratch. He ignored it.

The air became harder to breathe. He wasn't choking, no pressure around his neck to suggest such an idea. It all had to be in his head.

The river came into view. The shallow grave had to be around him somewhere. The new voice didn't give him much insight before it turned on him. He moved around the edge of the river, beginning to walk upstream, panting, trying to force air into his lungs.

He slipped, stumbling into the river and soaking his clothes. He reached up to grab something, anything, and found something with holes in it. He looked.

Somehow, he manages to stand. He's not sure how or why. He can breathe again, air rushing into his lungs like a basketball being filled with a car-tire pump.

He makes his way back onto the bank, feet finding a purchase that keeps him safe, but near.

"I'll bring you to your daddy, too, Lucy. Don't worry."

"Then we'll visit him on our way to your mother. Sound good?"

"You can call me Ren."

Before his trip, he had hoped the girl was not buried deep, walking around with a shovel being suspicious, and he didn't want to attract even more attention.

Luckily for him, she wasn't. He began to push the mud away from her body.

The air around him was unbreathable. He was almost sure something sucker punched him in the stomach. He collapsed onto his knees, his hands landing on the corpse to keep himself out of the water.

As soon as he touches the girl, air rushes back into him. He can't breath one minute, and the next he's choking on his own breath.

Quickly, he grabs her sides, using his strength to lift her body out.

When she is finally free, his shoulders feel lighter. He realizes there is a voice missing.

"Thank you, Lucy."

The girl's voice returns to a whisper, crying about her life before her death. He is left alone to look at her body.

He looks at the sky.

Walking back from where he came, he carries the body of the girl with him. The flames burn Red. He doesn't know why.

The path he traverses is full of people, it was the quickest possible way. He keeps his face calm, harsh. People part the way for him and the little girl. People cry as they watch him. He cannot hear them over the sound of her mother.

Only then does he realize the little girl's voice is gone along with her father's. He turns around, and watches as their spirits stop behind him. The father smiles, and the girl's face is joyous, their hands bound together.

He keeps going, the two following behind, playing as they go. A crowd follows behind them. He watches as photos are taken. He assumes he'll see himself in the newspaper.

The mother keeps crying, looking for her daughter, mourning her husband. She wants her family back, guilty for not having been home, desperate for them to be near.

He can see the graveyard. No one blocks his way, but he thinks he can hear the roar of the crowd following him. He isn't sure if he should be happy about that, but it is different than the small voices that occupy his thoughts recently.

He isn't sure when, but the woman's voice vanishes. He smiles to himself as he walks the path through the graveyard.

A cop car, flashing its lights, stops in front of him. The officer looks out his window, waves, and starts a slow pace forward. He follows.

The car leads him to a gravestone. The grave had been dug up, a coffin made of simple wood, furnished with a small pillow lies above it, tentatively resting on the lift. The car stops in front of it, and he makes his way over.

Carefully, he places the young girl in. The box is small, barely large enough to fit her, but it's good enough for the job. He reaches up to his neck and takes the necklace off. It was something the girl's mother gave him to help him find her. He supposed it did its job. He leaves the necklace in the girl's capable hands, and closes the lid

Turning around, he sees the full family behind him for the first time. The mother is embracing her husband and daughter, kissing their cheeks while weeping. The Father soothes her back and he looks up at Ren once more, mouthing "Thank you," as their souls vanish from the earth, leaving his head emptier than when he started.

As he makes the walk home, the crowd leaves, the flames return to their black hue, and he listens. He waits for more details so he can help another one, reunite another family.

It makes sense, in the end. The only way he can help the families are after they pass.

He hopes when he dies, he can find his own.