Ghost Hunter: CyberNerf (Alternative Draft)

Chapter 7

The attic? He had forgotten the house even had one. He had promised himself never to go up there again on any of his hunting jaunts.

He looked sheepishly at the screen. The instruction was clear. No chance of playing hooky now. He wanted nothing more than be a member of the elite ghost-hunter team.

Could he talk to one of his sisters about lending him a hand? No one cleaned or repaired anything up there, except maybe once a year, if they got around to it. No one had bothered with the attic even during the large-scale cleaning of the house after they moved in.

He knew he was going to have to do this chore all by himself.

He walked quiet as a mouse into the foyer with a toolkit clutched to his chest. It was a Saturday and everyone besides his father was home.

As he was about to cross to the stairs, his little sister Joan came wailing from the rear of the house. Ned quickly swerved the other way, whistling aimlessly, and stopped near the large cupboard under the stairs.

"Mommy! Jeff threw Mona away!" Joan clamored.

Ned's mom saw her little daughter stamp her feet in frenzy. "Alright now, don't worry about Mona. What did Jeff do with her?"

"He threw her up into the tree!" Joan hollered.

Ned spied from his place near the stairs.

"Tell your brother I want to see him in the kitchen right this minute," mom ordered.

Joan marched triumphantly past a soundless Ned back the way she came. Mom also cleared out toward the kitchen. Ned saw his chance and climbed the stairs.

On his way up he felt like someone was walking behind him. When he turned to look, there was nothing there but closed chestnut-colored doors and the motes floating in the thin October daylight seeping into the hallway.

In the dimness of the narrow passage leading to the knee-wall door, sudden pain made Ned cringe as he pulled his small flashlight out. His head had squarely bumped against the rafter low above him.

"Dangummit my jumpin' pants!" he groaned, rubbing the top of his head.

His finger found the tiny switch on his light and the small door ahead was smacked center with a cookie of brightness. His hand traced the beam over the scrawl on the door. The light flickered out but it was enough for him to know what it said.

Been a long time coming, Ned

Catch yourself with a real ghost yet?

"Jumpin' gummit! I made sure I charged you up," he spat, nervously slapping the flashlight with his hand. It came on again but the letters were gone.

He felt something coil up fast inside. There was still time for him to turn around if he chose. Swinging the light up to the truss ceiling and back down, he made a slow sweep all over the door but the scrawl had vanished. Fear whispered into his heart.

A year ago, when he had gone exploring right after his family moved in, Ned had been dumbstruck by the attic's size. The far corners were almost invisible and he had felt the shadows tremble in the low eaves.

Later, he had sworn to Jessie he felt the thick air poke the scruff of his neck like it had grown a finger just as he exited this same knee-wall door. "I know you like exploring, Ned. Don't scare yourself with something that would only stop you from making the most of your time," Jessie had said, attributing the experience to the richness of her young brother's imagination.

Yet he was here once again, and something was waiting for him behind that shut door.

As he was about to push the little door in, it swung open itself. Welcome!