Chapter 1
Paul stays poised, waiting.
Watching.
His time would come soon. He just has to wait patiently, and-
"AHHHHHH!" A blood curdling scream rips through the house.
Paul's grotesque appearance morphs back to normal as he falls to the ground laughing. The young couple he'd scared has no doubt already made it to the front door. His moment had come, and passed with both terror and glee.
That never gets old, he can't help but think to himself. The living are so fickle. The shorter husband had no doubt been timid, but Paul expected more from the other. One would assume the boisterous Planet Fitness shirt was just a facade for the weakling millennial with little muscle beneath it.
Paul gathers himself, walking over to the window. Sara stands at the edge of the sidewalk, watching the two young men peel off. A sad look on her face for a moment. Then, as if sensing him, she turns to glare at the window pane. Paul hadn't made himself visible to her, but somehow she knows. Paul walks away from the window, entering the den as Sara enters the front door.
"Paul! Damn it! I know you're there!" Sara says angrily.
Paul makes himself visible. She'll shout till I do, he laughs to himself.
"What's up, butter cup?" Paul asks, perching on the fireplace.
"What's up? Are you serious? What do you think is up?" Sara asks.
Paul casts his eyes upwards, thinking. Well, he'd never find out. That's for sure. When someone finally banishes him, if heaven and hell exist. The latter will be his resting place.
"A whole lot of ceiling." Paul shrugs.
"You can not keep doing this! I'm already stressed enough with the wedding plans!" Sara groans.
"Oh dear, maybe you should just cancel it altogether?" Paul says, clicking his tongue.
Suddenly Paul has disappeared, his body fading out of sight in the blink of an eye. Sara shakes her head, used to his parlor tricks.
"We've been over this, I'm not dumping Ian because a ghost says so." Sara says, rolling her eyes.
Paul appears behind her shoulder, his tall frame dwarfing Sara. His short, shaggy, black hair falls into his face as he leans down to whisper into her ear. Hiding his mischievous, piercing blue eyes.
"What a shame." Paul says, causing her to jump. Then adds. "I hate to see you so... S-s-stressed."
His 'S' comes out as a drawn out hiss, and Sara shivers. She turns to face him, crossing he arms. Sara won't be intimidated by the mere lingering spirit.
"I'll have this house cleansed." Sara threatens.
"I'm a spirit, not a demonic force. Remember?" Paul laughs.
"You could've fooled me!" Sara says.
"Awe, look at you, all fired up." Paul coos.
Sara crosses her arms, showing she's not amused. Who does he think he is?
"They were a good couple! What's the problem?" Sara says.
"They were fickle." Paul says.
"And you know this how?" Sara demands.
"Because I do." Paul booms.
Sara's eyes widen in shock. Usually, Paul is very nonchalant about everything. Well, he has been since he stopped constantly trying to scare her to death at every turn.
"What do you expect me to do if you keep scaring everyone away?" Sara asks.
"That's not my problem." Paul shrugs.
"It will be when someone demolishes this house because no one wants it." Sara says.
She turns, walking into the kitchen. Paul watches her from the doorway as she gathers her things. A sad look on his face.
"No, it won't. When this house is gone, I will be too." Paul says quietly.
Sara frowns, noticing how unconcerned the rueful ghost seems. She turns around to ask him why, but he's gone.
"Paul?" Sara calls out.
"Goodnight, love." Paul says quietly.
His voice is close by, but he's nowhere to be seen. For the remainder of the evening Paul doesn't show himself. For once in the six weeks she's been showing the home, he doesn't follow her throughout the house as she turns off the lights. No, Paul is nowhere to be seen. The last lights go off, and Sara locks up.
From her car, she looks up at the house. A beautiful, two story Victorian. Her eyes don't linger on the beautiful brickwork though. They stray to the window on the far right of the second floor. The room, of a man, who took his last breath there. Killed in cold blood. Paul Lobos had died there, and had been carried away in a body bag that next morning.
Except, Sara sees the slight part in the curtains. And she knows. Paul is still there, all alone. Where he'll remain for eternity. Or, until the house is demolished. Either way, the thought saddens her for some reason tonight. He's just, lonely, she can't help but think as he drives away. That's why she amuses the creature with conversation.
At least, that's what she had thought. Back in her apartment, she finds herself longing for company. Lonely. She's lonely, too. But why? Shouldn't she be happy? Ian had proposed...
Yet once again, he'd texted her saying he'd be out late with his friends. For the fourth time this week. In the past, it had been Sara who'd stay out late. Once she'd gotten serious with Ian, he preferred her to stay home. So she had, and had lost most of her friends. What was she to do? Ian, the love of her life, had asked her to stay in. Become a good wife. And here she is. All alone.
Practically a ghost herself.
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