Page 4

The crumbly sweetness melted on my tongue as I pulled out my handbook. There was a space for notes where I had taken to doodling a masterpiece I liked to call the “Evolution of Dicks.” Some crumbs fell onto the pages and I shook them off, skimming through until I reached the section on types of ghosts.

I was so focused that I didn’t see the thing sneaking up behind me before I was lost in a sudden shower of white.

I spat out the rest of my cake as I inhaled what could only be a lungful of flour. As soon as the cake hit the ground, high-pitched screaming almost burst my eardrums.

Disorientated, I wheeled around, accidentally firing my PolterPulse at the wall and leaving a scorch mark.

I wiped the dust from my eyes and saw a dumbwaiter close on the other side of the kitchen, a flash of orange disappearing.

What the fuck?

I heard the wheels crank upward and growled, booking it down the hall in a cloud of white and up the crooked, L-shaped stairs to chase the entity.

The stairs creaked ominously under my weight, something crumbly popping under my boots, black and heavily scented when it spread. Annoyance pushed away my fears from earlier. No little shit ghost could dump a bag of flour over my head and get away with it.

Do you always have to win, Ryan? my mum’s voice sighed in my head.

“Yes, Mum, I do,” I grumbled, feeling flour work its way down my back and towards my unmentionables.

Because I was so used to losing.

I hit the first floor and spotted the dumbwaiter at the end of the hallway. It was open.

I stepped forward and my Timberland boots caught on something. I looked down to see some sort of Home Alone-style tripwire pulley system and my eyes widened just before a paint can with SORRY scrawled on it came swinging at my head.

I barely managed to dive out of the way, catching myself against the upper floor’s railing. It splintered in warning, telling me to get my wannabe-athlete body off it.

“LEAVE THIS HOUSE!” a voice boomed.

I pushed myself upright and frowned. The voice sounded…weird. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it didn’t exactly induce fear in me.

“Sorry, no can do. I need to send you and your friends to the great beyond, otherwise I don’t get a pay cheque,” I called back as I made my way down the hallway with much more tentative steps, Pulser held at the ready.

“LEAVE…” There was a small pause. “OR ELSE!”

“Are you going to throw a bag of sugar at me next? I know I look delicious, but I’m not into being eaten. I like to do the eating, Casper,” I drawled in my best fuckboy voice.

“HAVE YOU EVER TRIED BEING EATEN?”

I paused. “Sorry, what?”

“WELL, HOW DO YOU KNOW IF YOU LIKE TO BE EATEN OR NOT IF YOU’VE NEVER TRIED IT?”

Were we still talking about sex or was this ghost asking me to jump in its oven? Okay, that still sounded like sex. Was this ghost flirting with me?

Maybe I should have gotten laid before I left.

I shook it off and started my way down the hall, passing oddly named rooms left and right.

Mellow Morgue, Charming Crematorium, Gentle Grave?

A ghostly axe-shaped pendulum swung in front of my nose to block the next words, and I went a little cross-eyed, grinding to a halt. More swung out further along, blocking the path forward with obstacles. My heart thundered as a cold chill from the ghostly energy crawled down my spine.

“Are you for real?” I called out. “This is starting to get ridiculous.”

“I WARNED YOU.” The voice sounded petulant now.

“This is so dramatic,” I grumbled, counting the timing of the swings so I could move past this stupid haunted house attraction. I had no idea if they would pass straight through me or not, but I didn’t want to be the guinea pig to find out. “I’m just trying to do my job. Haven’t you got better things to do in the afterlife?”