Page 14 of Purrfectly Haunted

I make good use of the coffee machine in the staff kitchen and drink four mugs before the sun has set. Excessively caffeinated and lacking sleep, by the time midnight comes, I’m ready to throw down with some ghosts.

The staff members bid us good night, and they all enforce curfew before disappearing into their dorms. Ewan and I put on our ExorSquad uniforms, strap the guns to our belts, and find our way to the communal showers where the Urchin does most of his haunting.

This particular ghost is a trickster and he likes to make himself known, so we don't think we’ll need puns this time.

Ewan stops in the hallway, right at the boundary where the wooden floors give way to the green tiles of the communal showers. His shoulders are tense and his hands are gripping the PolterPulse.

“Hey, we’ve got this,” I say to him. "Relax."

I’m not sure why but I find his fear endearing. He really doesn’t want to be here, and yet he is. This is the purest form of bravery: doing something while being scared shitless.

He nods, eyes set on our destination.

“I won’t let the little pervert touch you this time, I promise." I wink.

This wins me a blush and a smile. Fuck, I want to taste his lips.

I clear my throat and step in the communal showers, and my shoes land in water. “What?” I turn on the lights and look down. There is water all over the floor, reflecting the glow from the sconces on the walls. “Motherfucker.” Immediately, my socks are soaked, and I make a face.

“Do you think it’s his doing?” Ewan whispers.

“Of course it’s him. He knows we’re coming after him.”

A giggle echoes deeper in the room, and hair rises on my arms.

Fuck, this is creepy. And it’s already pissing me off.

I make sure the safety is off on my gun. “Come now, little shit, we’re here to play.”

“James...” Ewan warns. “Maybe don’t piss off the poltergeist?”

I chuckle. “I thought that was why we were here.”

I kick open one of the shower stalls. Then another.

“Did you hear that?” Ewan suddenly says.

I stop walking—my shoes are splashing in the water—and listen attentively. There’s a whisper in the dark.

“...the Burning Crone?” the ghost says.

“What?”

And suddenly, the voice is right by my ear. “Are you the ones who released the Burning Crone?”

I curse and turn on my heels, looking for the Urchin, but he’s nowhere to be found. The room feels suddenly cold and the air I exhale turns into steam.

“Yes, that’s us,” I say, eyes searching the dark corners of the communal showers.

Behind me, Ewan is gripping my shirt and I can feel his hand shaking.

Another laugh echoes all around us. “The house is pleased and displeased all at once.”

The house? I think, confused.

But then my brain catches up, and a word he said comes into sharp focus: released.

“Do you want to be released from the house?” I ask. “Are you a prisoner of this place?”