Everyone in town called her "daring" for moving into the haunted house. It wasn't really "daring", it was more like a "deal she didn't want to pass up". No gas leaks, no carbon monoxide, not even any black mold spores or bug infestations. It was a good, cozy house! True, her first night was christened with her dog barking at the corner and cabinets opening on their own, but the first one could just be the dog seeing weird shadows, and the second could be because of the way the house was settling. Remember, assume the mundane first. Still, she poked around the internet and some books for some protection-- banishing seemed a bit much-- how would she like it if she was a ghost just hangin' out in her own house, then some human comes by and evicts them to wherever the hell they go?
The fall breeze was nice and cool, the to-go chai latte warmed her hands and her core, she admired orange leaves skipping across the quiet street.Haunted house be damned, this place rocked. But, speaking of haunted house, she had to get back to some unpacking. With a heavy sigh, she made her way back the winding path to her house.
Her dog, Franky, had been snoozing when she got back, a trail of leaves and dry grass leading to his bed. Must've tuckered himself out from running around the backyard all day. She snorts and sweeps it up, careful not to disturb him.
As she goes to the kitchen trash can, she notices some odd aura next to her through the fuzzy steel reflection. A cold chill runs down her spine and she quickly turns around. This was either an intense draft, or... or... Well, she didn't know or what, but there's no way a house was genuinely haunted like everyone says it is. That doesn't happen in real life. Maybe she's getting a migrane and "feeling" auras?
Well... I'm alone in this house anyway. Might as well say something in case this really is a spirit or ghost or somethin'... She gulps, unable to deny the feeling of something otherwordly right next to her.
"Hey, sorry for intruding in your house," she backs up, voice wavering, still clearly sensing the aura. It feels like it's purposely trying to seem intimdating. "I don't mean any harm, I'm gonna keep this place clean. So let's be, like, roomates? Cool roomates? Besties, even?" What the hell was she even saying?? She carefully puts the broom back into the broom closet, unable to shake off that cold chill. "You can call me Addy. What about you?"
Nothing was physically said, but a name flashes into her head. Weird, weird, weird. No way this was really a ghost, right? No way she was actually communicating with the dead? She swallows the lump in her throat.
"You said your name was... Connor?"
Somehow, she can feel some sort of "yes". Not even the word "yes", just a vague sort of agreement.
"Awesome. Pleased to meet you, Connor." Scared as all fuck to meet him. "I'm gonna lay down some rules, okay? Don't go into my room unless I allow you. No bathroom, either. Don't break my things or scare or hurt my dog. Please."
Another feeling of agreement. This one felt more solid, like a brick of lead.
"Thanks." she sighs. "I'm gonna unpack. I..." The world is spinning around her, it feels like she just ran a marathon. Is she sure there isn't a gas leak by the stove? She decides to give the gas people a call as she makes her way back to her living room (with a meager loveseat, a cheap WalMart coffee table, and a chair+ottoman from her parent's place) and wipes the sweat from her brow. This wasn't a gas leak, she was positive, but she'd rather be safe than sorry.
The ghost is looking at her. It flips a few pages of her catalogue on the coffee table. She shivers again. Her body must be rejecting her new reality.
tags for my reference: #hauntedhouse #ghoststory