House Ghost ONC 2022 LONGLISTER

Chapter 9: The Ghost

POV: Grey

With everything dark, I finally feel safe. I make my way downstairs. Is the human gone? It's super quiet, and humans usually make some noise.

Cautiously I float down through the opened hatch. For once, it doesn't screech in my ears, only creaks softly.

I look around the house. Everything is dark is silent. My feet pad noiselessly down the stairs to the first floor, checking for any sign of life. In a weird way I've gotten familiar with the layout: the front door that leaves skids on the floor; the small kitchen taken up mostly by an oversized fridge and a sink; the worn out leather sofa and the oversized TV. Funny, I've never used any appliances when they were on (except for taking chocolate milk, I'll need to figure out which circuit powers the refrigerator), but now that I know they are all off, the house feels so much quieter. Emptier. Hollow.

Which is good, I reassure myself, Empty is good. Empty is safe. You did it, Grey. The house is dark and you're all alone. This is what you always wanted.

So why don't I feel happy?

All of a sudden, metal shrieks above me. The hatch! Did the human manage to get past me?

I rush back upstairs but there's no movement. I float into the attic and scan the room, but there's nothing.

The ladder was just settling, I guess. Loose joints. Stupid old house.

Eyes narrowed, I slide back downstairs. I don't buy what my brain is telling me. Someone else must be here.

Then I pick up a noise. It's from the human's bedroom. I tense up and sneak forward, slinking around the doorway.

There, in the middle of the darkness, lying huddled on the floor, is the human.

Why the heck is he still here? I ruined his house! He should be gone by now, finding another apartment. I float forward, but just at that moment the bloody hatch creaks again behind me.

Once the human leaves the first thing I'm doing is oiling those ladder joints I swear to--

The human moves and groans. I jump onto the bed and crouch among the blankets. Slowly he sits up and looks around. His eyes scan right over the bed, and for a moment I'm certain I'm done for. But he just turns his head and is staring at the doorway.

Oh yeah, humans can't see in the dark.

Straightening myself out, my muscles relax. I'm five feet away from him and he doesn't know I'm here. This is the same human who's been chasing me down? He doesn't look threatening up close. His pale face is acne scarred, his hair is messy and tangled, and his eyes are swollen and dull.

Looking around, my ghostly heart skips a beat at the sight of my blanket tossed over the back of the chair. Crawling off the bed, I reach over for the throw. My fingertips ghost the fabric, and I tug at it. The throw inches off the chair, but I don't have a good grasp on it, and with a soft thump, it falls to the floor.

Well, crap.

The human jolts up. His breath hitches and he scrambles forward, reaching for something. He starts mumbling, then turns on that damn high-beam again and trains it on me.

Seriously?? The one light I couldn't turn off. This guy is a fighter to the end. If he wasn't hurting me I'd almost be impressed.

"Get that piece of crap out of my face!" Screwing my eyes shut, I tug fiercely at the flashlight in his hands; it feels like reaching into an oven. Having the drop on him gives me the advantage and I quickly tear it away from him, throwing it across the room.