Marley was...restless. Something he hadn’t exactly been expecting since helping his ol’ skinflint partner, Scrooge, should have allowed his soul some peace and quiet. And yet, he found his soul tossing and turning, itching to be free of the grave. Perhaps, a little earthly wandering didn’t seem nearly so awful, and as he opened his eyes he found himself once more sitting about the earth, his back leaned up against his cold tombstone. He could still feel some of the weight of his chains tugging him back down into the ground, but as he glanced down at himself he found himself to appear unfettered.
He supposed he never was truly going to be free of that weight, and he sighed, more for affect since breathing in his current state was hardly a necessity.
Standing up, he felt a twinge of loneliness as he gazed at the empty spot where Scrooge’s headstone had been. He hadn’t realized it until now, but he had half hoped to find the other man here, but Marley supposed he was busy with the whole “trying to be a better man” thing. While he knew this was good for him, he still couldn’t quite shake the sharp pang in his chest. He missed his friend...
Looking around the cemetery, the weight grew heavier, and Marley felt the strong urge to lay back down in the dirt and accept eternity, but the restlessness still gnawed at him. Perhaps, he just needed a change of scenery. He was just a spirit after all, so how hard could it be? He’d seen enough of England, and what was even left for him here anyway? It wouldn’t be fair to drag himself back to Scrooge. He was an unfortunate reminder of his past, and Scrooge no longer seemed terribly fond on lingering on that part of his life.
Marley closed his eyes, trying to think of somewhere else, somewhere far and new, and when he opened them back up that was just where he was. Disoriented, he only figured out that he must have been standing in the middle of a street as a large truck barreled through him, giving him such a fright that he nearly felt his heartbeat return to his chest. Even though he knew that technically the cars couldn’t do him any harm, the man quickly jogged over to the sidewalk, sure he could only just faintly hear the sound of chains.
It certainly made him pick up his pace.
Still not entirely sure of his surroundings, the ghost ducked into the familiar darkness of a bar. He wasn’t sure he even could drink, and it didn’t much matter since no one was likely to see him, being dead and all, but there was something comforting about the surroundings. Still, something wasn’t quite right, and as he made his way over to the bar he scanned the walls for something that would give him a hint as to where he had gotten himself.