Chapter 11: The Ghost's Struggle

The mansion felt colder as the night stretched on. It was a deep chill that sank into the bones, making the air feel thick, oppressive. Shade could feel it weighing on her as she paced the grand hallway, her mind racing. Emmy was slipping further and further away, and the situation with Tango was getting worse by the hour. Shade had to do something. She couldn't just watch her best friend disappear into the ghost's manipulations.

The walls of the mansion loomed around her, their cracked surfaces and decaying grandeur an eerie reminder that she was in no ordinary house. But this time, the feeling of dread wasn't entirely about the mansion—it was about Emmy. About Tango. About what was happening right under their noses.

Shade stopped in front of a large mirror that seemed to reflect the darkened hallway around her. She stared into it for a moment, taking a deep breath. She had to be strong for Emmy. She had to find a way to make Tango see that he couldn't keep doing this.

With that resolve, she turned away from the mirror and headed down the hall, towards the library where she'd seen Tango earlier. It was time to confront him.

As Shade entered the room, the firelight cast long shadows on the walls, making the place feel more like a mausoleum than a library. Tango was sitting in the far corner, the faint outline of his translucent figure glowing slightly, just enough to make his face visible in the dim light. His eyes flicked up when he noticed her approach, but he didn't say anything.

Shade crossed her arms, her gaze hardening. "Tango," she said, her voice cold. "I need to talk to you."

Tango didn't immediately respond, his eyes studying her with a distant look. "What's there to talk about?" His voice was low, but there was an edge to it—something sharp beneath the calm surface.

"You know what's going on," Shade said, taking a step closer, her voice rising in frustration. "You're controlling Emmy. You've got her wrapped around your finger, and it's wrong. She's my best friend, and I won't stand by and watch you destroy her."

Tango's eyes flickered with something—something almost like regret—but it was gone so quickly that Shade barely had time to register it. Instead, he sighed, running a hand through his fiery hair. "You don't understand, Shade. I don't want to do this. I never wanted to hurt her. But she... she's the only one who listens to me. She's the only one who can see me, really see me."

Shade's heart skipped a beat. Was he... was he being serious?

"I get it," Tango continued, his voice quieter now, like he was confessing something he'd kept hidden for too long. "I've been dead for so long. I don't know how else to handle all the pain, all the anger that I feel. It's... it's so much, Shade. I didn't ask for this. I didn't want to become this—this thing that feeds off other people's emotions. But I don't know how else to survive."

For a moment, Shade felt a flicker of sympathy for him. His words, though laced with bitterness, carried an undeniable sense of vulnerability. It wasn't what she had expected. Tango wasn't a monster—he was a ghost in pain, trapped in a cycle of resentment and anger he didn't know how to break. He wasn't evil, at least not in the way she'd thought.

But that didn't excuse what he was doing to Emmy.

"You're using her, Tango," Shade said, her voice growing firmer. "I understand you're struggling, but that doesn't give you the right to manipulate her like this. She's my best friend. And I won't let you take her away from us."

Tango's expression twisted with frustration, his gaze hardening. "You think I'm doing this on purpose? You think I want to hurt her? I don't know how to do anything else. She's the only one who doesn't look at me like I'm a freak. She's the only one who doesn't run away."

Shade took a deep breath, her own frustration bubbling up. "Emmy doesn't deserve to be stuck in this mansion, believing she's in love with a ghost who's keeping her here for his own selfish reasons. You need to let her go."

Tango was silent for a long moment, his translucent figure flickering ever so slightly, like a flame struggling to stay alive. For a brief moment, Shade thought he might actually listen. But then, without warning, his eyes flashed, and the fire in the room flared brighter, casting shadows on the walls.

"No," Tango said, his voice low and dangerous. "I can't. I won't."

Shade stood her ground, though her pulse quickened with the tension in the room. "Then I guess I'll just have to make you."

Tango's gaze turned cold, his form becoming more ethereal as he rose from his seat. The heat from the fire seemed to fade as the temperature dropped, and for a brief second, Shade felt a familiar pressure in the air—like a storm was about to break.

But just before things could escalate, a soft voice cut through the tension.

"Shade?"

It was Emmy.

Shade turned quickly, her heart sinking as she saw her best friend standing in the doorway. Her expression was unreadable, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the two of them closely. Tango's presence seemed to shift, his form becoming more translucent, almost as if he were retreating into the shadows.

"Emmy," Shade said, her voice tight. She forced a smile, even though the weight of the situation was threatening to crush her. "I was just—"

"Don't," Emmy interrupted, her voice sharp. "I'm not an idiot, Shade. I know what's going on here." Her gaze flicked between Shade and Tango, and for a brief moment, she looked like she might break down, but she held herself together, her shoulders stiff.

Shade's heart sank. This wasn't how she'd imagined their conversation going. "Emmy, listen—Tango isn't good for you," Shade said gently, taking a step forward. "You're my best friend, and I care about you. But you have to understand that what's happening between you and Tango isn't real. He's using you."

Emmy's eyes darkened. "I know what you think, Shade," she said, her voice cold. "But you're wrong. Tango and I are... we're together. He cares about me. And I care about him. That's all that matters."

"No, Emmy," Shade said, the words slipping from her lips before she could stop them. "He's hurting you. And if you keep going down this path, you won't just lose your chance at a real life—you'll lose yourself."

Emmy's face twisted with something between confusion and anger. "You don't understand! You don't know what it's like to be alone. Tango is the only one who gets me."

For a moment, there was silence. Shade took a deep breath, her heart breaking. She'd never seen her best friend look so lost, so far from the person she used to be. But she couldn't give up on her.

"Emmy," Shade said softly, her voice cracking slightly. "I've always been here for you. And I always will be. But I need you to see what's happening. I need you to come back to us."

Emmy didn't respond. Instead, she just looked at Shade, her eyes full of something unreadable—something that made Shade feel like she was losing her.

"I... I can't, Shade," Emmy whispered. "I'm not the same anymore."

Shade stood there, her throat tight, as Tango's form flickered behind Emmy, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. But it wasn't the victorious smile Shade had expected. It was... something else. Something softer.

And just like that, the storm in the room seemed to settle.