Page 6 of Purrfectly Haunted

“Let’s try it, then,” I say, doing a quick google search for puns.

When we’re alone, at last, I get to my feet.

I open my bag and offer him the ghost extermination weapon labelled the PolterPulse V2.1. I take the EMF meter and the S-TRK 88 Monitor, which is supposed to be giving us a temperature map of the room or something, if we’re to trust the handbook—which we don’t. But it doesn’t matter, we just have to make it all believable. Kick out a few imaginary ghosts, get paid, and leave.

“Let’s start in the kitchen,” I say.

Since that’s where the Burning Crone is supposed to do most of her haunting. The notebook talks about her reflection sometimes being seen in the windows late at night, or on the glass door of the microwave.

The kitchen is... a lot. The walls are painted bright orange and nothing matches, from the different chairs to the funny drawings and pictures on the baby-blue fridge. There is another crystal chandelier here, smaller than the one in the hall.

I turn the S-TRK 88 Monitor on and wait for it to load the temperature map. Ewan leans over my shoulder to look at the screen, and I can feel the warmth emanating from his body over my back.

The hottest thing around is probably not the Burning Crone, I think to myself.

The map is... inconclusive. There are pools of heat scattered over the kitchen, mostly around appliances such as the oven and the fridge.

“Incredibly helpful,” I mumble.

I don’t want to botch the job, just in case Lana has placed cameras all over the place.

“Can we try the EMF meter?” Ewan asks.

“Sure.” I pull it out and make a big show of studying the room. It beeps a few times with grating a sound. “What does it mean?” I whisper.

“I—I think it means there are electromagnetic fields?”

“And it means..?”

Ewan blushes. “Ghosts?”

I laugh. “Then the fridge is haunted.” I walk to it and open the double doors. “Hello, Burning Crone? Are you hiding behind the pickle jar or this suspicious bottle of milk?”

Staying in character is harder than I thought, and I can’t help but poking fun at our situation.

Ewan is standing at the centre of the kitchen, eyes wary. He’s holding the PolterPulse like an actual weapon. It looks like a kid’s toy in his hand. It probably is, to be honest.

“Do you know any bad puns?” I ask, wanting to tease him.

He looks at me with some degree of horror. “No...”

He’s really scared of ghosts. Poor thing... I want to make it worse.

“How do you call a nervous witch?” I ask. When he shrugs, I add, “ A twitch.” His eyes widen slightly. “What do you call witches who live together?” A pause. “Broom-mates.” He’s too busy staring at his reflection in the window to crack a smile. “What did the witch burned at the stake—”

But I never get to finish my pun as flames hotter than hell suddenly burn bright at the centre of the kitchen, and a nightmare crawls out of the fire.

two

Encounters of the paranormal sort

EWAN

Iknew it! I think. I knew I wasn’t crazy, and ghosts are real.

I used to see things when I was a kid. People who had died the previous week walking around our neighbourhood as if death hadn’t put a stop to their daily routine. I broke my arm once and spent some time at the hospital, and that place was even worse. I couldn’t tell who was alive and who wasn’t anymore, so I kept my eyes closed for hours, to my mother’s dismay.

Eventually, the more I looked away, the less I saw them. They faded in the background of my life and I lost the sight.