The Bit Bucket

A Transgender Paranormal Romantasy

From the Paranormal Visitor Universe

Chapter 3: Past Love Revealed

By Sasha Zarya Nexus

What can Gwen, the ghost, tell Fred that rocks him to his core?

Copyright 2025 by Sasha Zarya Nexus.
All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note:

This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Saturdays to complete it here.

The white light faded, leaving Fred standing in the same medieval chamber, but something fundamental had shifted. The air itself felt different—charged with recognition, heavy with memories that weren't quite his own. Gwen stood before him, her storm-gray eyes wide with an emotion he couldn't immediately place.

Then it hit him like a physical blow.

Recognition

"Sarah?" The name escaped his lips in a whisper, barely audible above the humming energy of the Bit Bucket. But it was her—the curve of her smile, the way she tilted her head when thinking, the gentle strength in her posture that had first drawn him to her three years ago.

Gwen's ethereal form shimmered, her spirit-monitor composure cracking completely. For a moment, her careful mask slipped, revealing the woman he'd loved and lost. "You remember."

The memories came flooding back in a torrent that made Fred's knees buckle. Sarah laughing as butterflies landed on her shoulders in the very garden he'd just left. Sarah's hand in his as they walked the winding paths, talking about dreams and possibilities. Sarah's eyes lighting up when he first told her about his belief in teleportation, how she'd listened without judgment, even encouraged his wild theories.

"But you're..." Fred's voice broke. "You died. Three years ago. The summer solstice."

"I know." Gwen stepped closer, her form becoming more solid, more real. "I remember everything, Fred. Our casual relationship that became something deeper. The way you used to bring me wildflowers from the garden's edge. How we'd sit by the fountain and you'd tell me about the ancient college you dreamed of finding."

The Truth About Her Name

Fred stared at her, his mind reeling with questions. "But why Gwen? Your name was Sarah. Sarah Elizabeth Hartwell. I remember because you always said you hated how formal it sounded."

A shadow of pain crossed her features. "Gwen was my middle name. Sarah Gwen Elizabeth Hartwell—though I never told you the full version." She looked away, her spirit-form flickering with emotion. "When Aislinn first found me after the accident, when she offered me this position as spirit monitor, she asked what I wanted to be called in this new existence."

"And you chose Gwen," Fred said quietly, understanding beginning to dawn.

"I couldn't bear to hear my first name spoken aloud," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sarah was the woman who loved you, who had dreams of a future together, who died on the way to meet you that solstice evening. Gwen... Gwen could be the spirit guide, the one who helps lost souls without being reminded every moment of what I'd lost. Of who I'd left behind."

Fred felt his heart breaking all over again. "You were trying to forget me."

"Not forget," she said quickly, her storm-gray eyes meeting his. "Protect myself from the pain of remembering. Every time someone said 'Sarah,' I could see our last conversation, feel the excitement I'd had about telling you..." She stopped, her form wavering.

"Telling me what?" Fred pressed gently.

"That I loved you," she whispered. "That I wanted more than just casual dating. I was going to tell you that night, at the garden. I had it all planned out."

Flashback to Their Relationship

The Bit Bucket around them seemed to respond to their shared memories, the medieval walls shimmering and shifting to show glimpses of the past. Fred saw himself as he'd been then—younger, more carefree, his hope untainted by years of solitary practice. He watched as past-Sarah traced patterns in the air with her finger, creating temporary light trails that made him believe magic was possible.

"You never thought I was crazy," Fred said, his voice thick with emotion. "Everyone else looked at me like I was delusional, but you..."

"I believed in you," Gwen finished. "Because I could see it, Fred. The way reality bent slightly around you when you concentrated. The way flowers bloomed brighter in your presence. You had magic in you even then—you just didn't know how to access it."

The visions shifted, showing them their last day together. They'd been planning to meet at the Butterfly Garden for the summer solstice, to watch the sunset and talk about their future. Sarah had been excited about something, had mentioned wanting to tell him something important.

But she never made it to that meeting.

Gwen's Death and Transformation

"The accident," Fred whispered, remembering the phone call that had shattered his world. "They said you fell from the hiking trail. That you were alone."

Gwen's expression grew pained. "I wasn't alone, Fred. I was with someone—someone who claimed they could teach me about the magical world you'd described. They said they knew about the college, about teleportation." Her form flickered with anger. "It was a trap. They were looking for people connected to those with magical potential. They thought if they eliminated me..."

"They thought it would break me," Fred finished, understanding flooding through him. "They wanted to stop me from ever reaching the college."

"Instead, it did something they didn't expect." Gwen's voice grew stronger. "My death on the solstice, combined with my connection to you and your latent magical abilities, created a spiritual anchor. I became tied to the metaphysical spaces between worlds. When the Bit Bucket needed a spirit monitor, I was... recruited."

The Name Request

"So when you ask me to call you Gwen..." Fred began.

"I'm asking you not to rock the boat," she said, her voice carrying a note of pleading. "Sarah died that night, Fred. She died with dreams unfulfilled and words unspoken. Gwen is who I became—the spirit who learned to guide others through their transformations. If you call me Sarah, I'm afraid I'll fall apart completely. I'm afraid I won't be strong enough to help you escape this place."

Fred studied her face, seeing the careful control she'd built around her pain. "But I loved Sarah. I've been grieving Sarah for three years."

"And I've been existing as Gwen for just as long," she replied. "It's not about forgetting who we were, Fred. It's about accepting who we've become. Sarah and Fred had their chance at love, and it was cut short. But maybe... maybe Gwen and whoever you become after reincarnation can have something different. Something that transcends death itself."

Years of Isolation

The weight of three years of grief crashed down on Fred all at once. He remembered the months after Sarah's death when he couldn't bear to enter the Butterfly Garden. How he'd thrown himself into studying teleportation theory, desperate to escape a world that felt empty without her. The way he'd pushed away every friend who tried to help, every potential romantic connection that might have healed his heart.

"I couldn't love anyone else," he admitted. "I tried, but every time I looked at another woman, all I could see was you. All I could think about was how you'd never get to see the magical world you believed in."

"Oh, Fred." Gwen reached out as if to touch his face, her spirit-form wavering with the intensity of her emotion. "I watched you sometimes, when the barriers between worlds were thin. I saw you sitting alone in your apartment, practicing teleportation until you collapsed from exhaustion. I wanted so desperately to tell you I was still here, still believing in you. But I was Gwen then, not Sarah. I had to maintain the separation."

The Bit Bucket pulsed around them, responding to their emotional reunion. The slate on the wall began to glow more brightly, and new words appeared beneath Fred's name: Love transcends death. Hearts remember what minds forget. Names may change, but souls remain constant.

Spiritual Reunion

"This is why you're here," Gwen said, her voice filled with wonder. "This is why the Bit Bucket called to you specifically. Our connection, our love—it created a resonance in the magical field. You weren't just trying to reach the college, Fred. You were trying to reach me. Even if you didn't know it consciously."

Fred felt something shift inside him, a piece of his soul that had been missing for three years suddenly clicking back into place. But it wasn't the desperate, grief-stricken love he'd carried for so long. This was something deeper, more mature—a love that had been tested by death and separation and emerged transformed.

"I don't want to lose you again," he said. "I can't lose you twice, whether you're Sarah or Gwen or anyone else."

"You won't," Gwen replied, her storm-gray eyes blazing with determination. "But Fred, our love has evolved beyond what it was when I was alive. We're not the same people we were three years ago. You've grown, learned, suffered. And I've become something more than human. If we're going to escape this place together, it won't be as the couple we once were."

Fred nodded slowly, understanding. "So I call you Gwen. Not because I'm forgetting Sarah, but because I'm accepting who you are now."

"Exactly," she said, relief flooding her features. "Sarah was my past. Gwen is my present. And whoever we become after reincarnation... that will be our future."

The air around them began to shimmer again, and Fred felt that familiar presence pressing against his consciousness—ancient, vast, and somehow connected to both of them. The artifacts in the room hummed with increasing energy, and the flame in the lamp flickered wildly.

"Something's happening," Gwen said, her spirit-monitor instincts taking over. "Our reunion has triggered something in the Bit Bucket's magical matrix. The ancient powers that created this space are responding to our combined spiritual energy."

Fred looked at the slate where their story was being written in flowing script, the words appearing faster now: Two souls, divided by death, united by love. The wheel turns toward transformation. What was lost shall be found in new form. Names are but vessels; love is eternal.

"Gwen," he said, deliberately using her chosen name, "what does that mean?"

Before she could answer, the medieval walls began to shift and flow like water. The bookcase with Aislinn's volumes started to glow, and the silver bell on the wooden table chimed once, its note hanging in the air like a promise.

"It means," Gwen said, her voice filled with both hope and trepidation, "that our love story isn't ending—it's about to begin again. But in ways neither of us can imagine."

The Bit Bucket pulsed once more, and Fred felt the first stirrings of a transformation that would change not just his form, but the very nature of his connection to the woman he'd never stopped loving. Their reunion had awakened something ancient and powerful, and there would be no going back to the simple life he'd known before.

The only way forward was through the mystery of reincarnation itself, where Sarah and Fred might finally become something new together.