Frank Iero, Professional Fuckup

that pic has nothing to do with this chapter i just lov it w all my heart

After twenty five years of death, doing flips over furniture got pretty fucking tiring. However, it was pretty much all Frank could do, so he practiced his triple flip off the bed, going through the floorboards and right into the living room and onto the couch. Again. This was a lot more fun the first time.

Frank sighed, sitting down on the couch without moving a speck of dust. This sucked. Where were the kids daring each other to sleep over in the scary mansion on the hill? Did they grow up? Surely there were others, right? Did no one care about the house anymore? Did his legend finally die?

Frank shuddered at the thought. There was a saying that your first death is when your heart stops beating, but your second death is when people stop saying your name. Frank suspected this second death would be when he left the house and finally went to the magical Somewhere Else that people always dreamed of.

He hated the thought of leaving; it was pretty fun to stay here, scaring off kids and watching life move on from the highest hill in town. At least, it was before someone cut the electricity in the house so the TV shut off-- and the entire dumbass teenage population apparently disappeared. Now it was pretty fucking lonely.

Frank heard the front door slowly creak open, and he quickly floated up to the second floor. Showtime. (A little weird that the kids decided to show up in the middle of the afternoon, but whatever. It was still his time to shine.)
However, instead of hushed whispers and scared, hesitant calls into the dark shadows of the house, Frank heard a guy calmly talking-- was he on the phone?? What the hell was he talking about?? Was he moving in? Oh hell no. No one moved in to the haunted mansion. No one ever dared. This guy must have some fucking nerve, stepping on Frank's turf and expecting to be able to just move in like this. Frank cracked his transparent knuckles. This guy wanted to move in here, so he was going to get the full-on creepy ghost treatment.

Frank silently crept downstairs and peeked around the corner, though no one could ever see him anyways. The guy's silhouette was carrying a box, and he quickly dropped it in a coughing fit. He sat down, turning into the soft pre-sunset glow from the window across the room.

Frank gasped. Holy shit, was this guy hot. His eyelashes were so-- and with his eyes in the light-- and his little nose-- Fuck. Frank was going to have a hard time mercilessly scaring this guy.