Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Bought A Haunted House But No One Believes Me | Scary Stories

Episode Date: July 24, 2023

I'm the only one that can see them. Story from cfalnevermore Make sure to check out more of their work at u/cfalnevermore  Original Post: Why doesn’t anyone see the body in my living room!? : r/nosleep  Original YouTube link: I Bought A Haunted House But No One Believes Me.   For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Sound Effects: Freesound Zapsplat  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new scary stories, new true stories, and new creepypasta stories every day!

You saw the title? Why? I moved into this house three weeks ago, and it's my first house. I'll be in debt, paying it off for years. It came with a little surprise. I saw the thing during the damn walkthrough, like over a month ago. That probably should have registered as a red flag, but nobody else can see it. I've always had trouble speaking up.

I hate making a fuss, but the realtor cheerfully called. called my girlfriend and I into the living room to take a look at this. I stepped out of the foyer and into the living room, where I almost threw the hell up. The realtor stood there, his big rehearsed smile on his face, waving his hands around about all the natural light this room gets, seemingly completely oblivious to the rotten body he was standing over. I was two seconds away from losing my shit. Then my girlfriend, Abby, smiled and walked in, stepping right over the body like it was completely

normal. It's beautiful. If I ever move in with you, I've totally got design ideas. I just stood there, likely with a big, confused, pale look on my face. I tried to say something. All I got out was a strange questioning noise, something like, Buh? I was completely flabbergasted. After some slack-jawed silence, Abby ran up to me, once again hopping over the body.

Are you okay? You look pale. Uh, that doesn't sicken you? I asked, pointing at the moldering, slimy corpse lying face down four feet away from her. She looked where I was pointing, but then looked back, confused. Jack, the carpets aren't that bad. You don't see the body? You jumped over it. Body. She looked around the room. Her eyes scanned right over the bloody corpse. Are you messing with me? Her eyes were filled with genuine confusion, mixed with mild alarm. I was almost offended by her response. I mean, dead body that only I'm reacting to,

and I'm the one messing with people? But I like Abby. She's pretty, she's funny, she's a hard worker. I'm really happy I met her, and I really don't want to mess things up with her. We'd only been dating about a month and a half by then, so after fumbling my words a bit, I just forced a smile. Yeah, I'm just messing around. I jumped when the real estate agent sidled up to us. Do you see something on the carpets?

He squatted down, looking around where I was looking. I swear, his face was inches from the stringy, matted hair of the corpse's head. If you don't like the carpeting, I can recommend someone to change the flooring pretty cheap. Uh, the carpets are fine, but there's no corpse or anything? He gave me a weird look as he stood up. Uh, no, nobody's been murdered in this house, if that's what you mean. I eyed the grizzly remains again. You don't say.

No, sir. In fact, this house was built in the late 2000s. It's only had one owner before you, and they retired to Florida. I was pretty excited when this house hit the market. It ticks off all the check marks he gave me. Basement, gas stove, two-bedroom, three-bath, and room to grow into. He wasn't wrong. I loved the neighborhood, too.

It was only a 15-minute drive to town, 20 minutes to where I work, and it was within my price range. It was kind of perfect. I forced myself to look away from its apparently invisible to everyone but me, resident, and continued the tour. Abby smiled at me and pointed out how crazy I would be to not take this deal. So I signed the papers, and a month later I moved in. Disappointingly, the corpse was still freaking there, so it wasn't just a one-time mental break for me.

I watched in fascination as all my friends who were helping me move seemed to just gravitate away from it or around it. They acted as if it weren't even there, but still they stepped over and around it. Like, what the hell is up with that? My gaming buddy started rigging up my TV and game consoles for me in that living room. Uh, maybe gaming should go in another room? I meekly suggested. You sure, dude?

What other room? I thought you were making your office in the second bedroom. Damn it. Why didn't I wait for a three bedroom? Yeah, you're right. Abby then sat down my beloved gaming floor chair like two feet away from the rotten remains. All I could do was cringe. I don't get to play video games that much anymore. Abby stayed the night with me after we got the bed set up, so the next night was my first one

alone with it. I had my hammer at the ready because I just knew this thing was waiting for me to be alone. But it, he just lay there. After an hour of horrible tension, I would walked out and took a good look at him. I even gave him a name, Frank. I'm no expert on crime scenes, obviously, but I do watch crime shows sometimes. The dude's skull was caved in. I'd say someone wailed on his head with like a baseball bat or something. He was pretty badly rotted at this point, but luckily he wasn't covered in maggots or anything. His head had been hit so hard that it looked like one of his eyes popped out. It dangled from the the mostly rotten nerve endings of his eye socket. I almost threw up when I noticed that detail.

But what could I do? I was the only one that could see Frank, so I kind of just ignored him. Like everyone else. I thought of maybe moving him, but the thought of touching him makes me wretch. I tried poking him with a stick once. I definitely touched something, or thought I did. He's got to be a hallucination. Nobody even sees him. But then, why do people step over him? Why doesn't he smell? I'm either hallucinating, or this is a massive gaslight by all the people I know. But what the hell would they do that for? I'll be talking to my therapist about it. Can't wait to learn about how I seem to be developing psychosis. But my therapist has been a godsend and I feel pretty sick. safe telling them when something weird is going on.

Frank, you make a great listener, but you're starting to bum me out. Oh my God. There's another one. There's another body next to Frank. So I spoke to my therapist. She didn't seem to know what to make of this, but I got to hand it to Mrs. Lang. She really knows how to roll with the punches. I mean, before I was probably just like any other people.

patient. I was stressed in my early 20s. I went through a bad breakup. Both of my parents passed away, separate causes, but only like two years apart. And I just couldn't seem to get a career together. Mrs. Lang helped me pick myself back up. She helped me move on from the breakup, mourned my parents, and get to work on my career. Now here I am, with a stable job, a stable girlfriend and I even bought my own house. Therapy is a wonderful tool. But then this, whatever the hell this is, happened. I imagine it's a bit of a curveball. I stepped nervously into her office and got comfy on the couch. She welcomed me and sat down with her clipboard at the ready. So how are you, Jack? Last time we talked, you were looking into buying a house. How'd that go?

Mrs. Lang? I'm going to level with you. I'm here because I'm experiencing something very weird. Weird how. My new house has a corpse in it that only I can see. Like it's invisible to everyone but me. Oh, so not the usual then. I laughed out loud. Before we continue, what exactly happened, Jack. I told her the same story I told you guys, how I first saw the body during the initial walkthrough, how I bought the house anyway, how none of the people who have been in my house and the four weeks since I moved in seemed to even see the thing, how I'd basically just ignored it, and how just a day prior a second corpse appeared. She listened with her usual stoic face, nodding slowly as I spoke. That's definitely weird.

She stated when I was done, I'm going to ask you a few questions, but before I do, I want to assure you, I don't think you're crazy or anything. You know that, right? Yeah, I mean, I'm not sure I agree on that deduction, but you've always been on my side. Well, first off, have there been any changes to your medications in the last few months? No, I was thinking about cutting back on the depression meds, but then this happened. You didn't stop taking them, though, right? No. I know we've talked about it before, but once more there weren't any traumatic occurrences in your past, your childhood. No.

Nothing like that. Hmm. Do you believe in ghosts? I... It took me a second to answer that one. I mean, I love scary stories. I love the idea of that. of vengeful spirits lurking in our periphery, but do I actually believe in them?

I don't think so. Even now? I mean, I don't know. It can't be ghost. That's crazy. Nobody is crazy for believing something. But answer me this. In your mind, what do you think is happening to you?

That's another one that stumped me. I think. I must be hallucinating. It can't be real, right? That's reasonable. It's a very strange situation to be sure. But moving can be stressful. So can a fear of losing what you've gained. It wouldn't be that strange for you to have some sort of stress response at this time. But to be honest, I don't get that impression from you. The only thing stressing you out seems to be this new development. Do the bodies look like people you know? Frank doesn't, though it's hard to tell with his head

caved in. I haven't really looked at the second one. All I've really noticed was the torn open stomach. Well, if there's any chance there are actual bodies in your home, I'd advise you to call the police. But if you think you're hallucinating, what I think you should do for now? For one, start seeing me weekly again to keep me updated. Two, I know this sucks, and I don't think I would ever advise that a client touch a corpse, but in your unique circumstance, I think you need to prove to yourself that what you're dealing with is a hallucination. Once you know for sure, we can start working to resolve this.

But this is bringing up something we talked about before, Jack. It is. Remember how we talked about not letting things that make you sad or uncomfortable just happen. This is not the same as telling my coworker to stop asking me to cover his shift. No, and I appreciate that. But you did buy a house with a corpse in it. She had me there. I really did want to buy it.

the house. I said, and we spent the rest of the time working on me. Ultimately, I left her office with a sense of confidence. Things are going well. I'm not letting this, whatever it is, ruin all the progress I've made. The first thing I have to do is figure out what this even is. I'd also very much like to get the pair of them out of my damn living room. To do that, bought some things. I got a nice big lawn cart that looked big enough to hold two sets of remains. I got some big shovels and three boxes of disposable ponchos. I already had several boxes of rubber gloves at home. It took another four days to gather the courage to do what I wanted to do. Four days of uneasy sleep. Thankfully, I had work to distract me. During that time, I did

will myself to take a few closer looks at my roommates. Frank didn't really offer anything new. He appears to be a dude. He's dressed like an office worker, blue-collared shirt and khakis. He's got black hair. It's hard for me to tell an age or a skin color since his skin's all gray and papery now. All the fluids seem to be dried up, thank the gods. There's just some blackened gore and a greenish-brown tint to the carpet beneath him. If nobody can see him, I think I'll put off cleaning that for a while. I'm nowhere near in the headspace to scrub corpse juice out of the carpet. The new body I've been desperate to avoid. The only thing I investigated was that the doors and windows were locked on the day it arrived. They were. This thing just kind of appeared in my locked house. The only things I

really noticed were the dirty yellow top and the lack of stomach skin also the intestines just all over her lower half i'm fairly confident this is a woman's body or at least she likely identifies that way she was dressed kind of like a cheerleader her dark hair was in messy pigtails and she wore a skirt and a matching halter top both of them decorated with bright yellow and blue colors it's hard to identify any other characteristics, when she just looks like a slightly deflated corpse with only dried, ropey tissues remaining. Her head wasn't smashed open like Franks, but that doesn't help much. It just makes her face look super uncanny valley, like she's barely human anymore, just a leathery

mask sitting on top of a skull. I was going to call her Chelsea the cheerleader, but for some of her. For some reason, Tina sounds better for her. Honestly, if her corpse wasn't splayed half in my living room and half in my front hallway, I'd feel sorry for her. Frank, too, come to think of it. Observing them for the last few days has made me realize that they don't change. All the details always seem to be the same.

I don't think they're even getting more decomposed. They're just Frank and Tina. than those observations, I avoided them as much as I could, building up my courage for last night, which is the first day of my weekend. That's when I went about trying to get the pair out of my living room. First, I put on rubber gloves and made sure I was nice and safe beneath a disposable poncho, several ponchos. Then, I slowly scooted forward and tried touching Frank for the first time, I just poked him with my index finger. I most definitely feel something.

There's something I'm touching that nobody else can see, and it has the consistency of dried jerky. Oh my God, I think I'm going to gag just thinking about it. Once I was used to one finger of contact, I tried grabbing Frank's arm. I was able to lift it up. I damn near barthed. It felt like a slightly squishy stick. One that was actually a human arm. Well, maybe it looked like one. I'm way too squeamish for this. So I set Frank's arm down before the hand dangling loosely from his wrist could sicken me further. Okay, I thought. I can physically touch them. There's no reason I can't move them.

So, under cover of night, I wheeled my lawn cart up onto the deck in my backyard and grabbed my shovels. A word of advice to any would be corpse movers. Don't use a snow shovel to move a corpse. I slowly worked the snow shovel under Frank's torso until I could lift him up. The way his limbs dangled, the way his head rolled unnaturally. spilling what looked like old mulch onto the carpet from the cavity in his head. The crackling sounds.

Oh my God, all of that was awful. I carried him to the back door, retching the whole way. I eased my way through my back door. I had to take it in an angle to fit him through, but then I banged his legs on the doorframe, and he spilled out of the shovel and hit the deck with a, a wet splat. The impact caused something to splatter all over my pants and shoes. I gathered him back up as best I could and heaved him into the lawn cart before throwing up over the

side of my deck. Once I finally composed myself, I started talking to Frank. I'm not really sure why. Sorry, Frank, I said, so sorry. I just, I don't want you guys in my living room. You're freaking me out. I'll bring Tina too. You guys can't be real, right. You're all in my head. I looked into the cart.

I found Frank's already smashed skull had come apart even more. Somehow there was still an eye socket with a dead, squishy looking, milky white eye looking up at me, accusingly, sorry, Frank. I stumbled away and headed back to my living room to retrieve Tina. I made sure to step over the brown spot where Frank had been. I had to gather up all of Tina's ropey intestines. I stuffed them back into the squishy cavity of her torso, which felt so gross on so many levels. I felt like I was not only defiling, but also violating a corpse. Oh God, why me? I kept muttering apologies as I worked the shovel under her and scooped her up. I carefully turned and started

heading for the back door, but then I tripped on something, something squishy. In my attempt to stay upright, I accidentally catapulted Tina off the shovel. She ended up splayed over my 90-inch TV. Her innards and a weird brown fluid spilled all over the screen as her legs dangled there, and my TV rocked from the force. After watching all that in bewilderment, I turned to see what I tripped on. It was Frank. Frank was back.

For the most part, it was. It was like I'd never moved him, but tripping over his torso jostled him just enough to make it somehow look like his flattened skull was staring right at me. So that's what I did last night. I learned the bodies won't let me move them. I spent a few hours after that in the shower and the rest of the night staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, trying to decide if I was haunted or crazy. It's about mid-morning now. I didn't sleep. Abby is supposed to spend the day with me. She's

going to try to connect her HBO Max account to my TV so we can watch Godzilla vs. Kong together. I suppose I should figure out how to clean Tina off the screen and then figure out if I can hold it together for the day. What the hell am I going to do? Oh, Tina cleaned herself off the TV apparently. That's nice. The corporation The corpses are back in their original spots. It's like nothing happened yesterday. I should move my lawn cart. The bodies are still here.

Oh, boy. Well, that was thrilling. Some shit has gone down in the last few days. For one, I think I'm in love with Abby. For two, the police showed up at my house. Third, and most alarming of all, I'm now 90% certain that the corpses in my living room aren't just in my head? All three of these things are scaring the ever-loving shit out of me. Last time we spoke, I was freaking out about how I couldn't move Frank and Tina,

as well as my upcoming date with Abby. After writing, I sprinted through the house, cleaning as best I could. I was spared the horror of having to clean guts and corpse juice off my TV, which was a huge plus. I think I stopped briefly to to plead with my spectral roommates. Please don't freak me out tonight. I'm sorry I tried to move you. Please let this date go smooth." Abby showed up a little early, but that was okay. I tried to smooth myself over as best I could, but she could tell that something was off as soon as I opened the door. Hey Jack, are you all right? You don't look so good. I might have gawked for a second, Abby isn't big on makeup, but she definitely applied some today.

She looked beautiful. Her pretty blue shirt and the makeup she'd applied really made her eyes pop. Shit, that reminded me of Frank. I don't look good. You look amazing. I was only half kidding there. I felt genuine remorse that I hadn't put in the same amount of effort. She smiled. And did I make her blush? When have I ever made pretty ladies blush? Sorry. I didn't sleep very well, or at all, last night. But come in, I've been looking forward to this all week.

The date went amazing. We popped a pizza on the oven, shared a few glasses of wine, we got her HBO account working and watched the latest incarnation of my favorite movie star in Godzilla vs. Kong. The evening was just too perfect. We struggled a bit on whether or not to open another bottle of wine, but eventually she ran out to her car and got another one. I risked a short glance over at my rotting roommates who'd been quiet spectators of the whole evening.

Thanks for keeping quiet. I whispered. Abby partially stumbled back in, landing in my lap on the couch, and she giggled up me. I thought to myself how lucky I am, corpses aside. Then she spoke, Jack, before I have any more to drink, there's something I want to say. Uh-oh, you sound serious. She playfully socked my arm before sitting up and turning to face me, looking me in the eyes. I really like you, Jack. These past few months, they've been a lot of fun. I've had some shitty relationships in the past, but I don't think I had one where I was this excited just to spend

time with someone. You're sweet. You respect my boundaries. You're self-sufficient. You put up with my bullshit and my boy band obsession. And most importantly, you're not a crazy person. That one hit me like an ice lance to the heart. All the warm fuzzy feelings that had been building almost snuffed themselves out completely. But damn it, I couldn't bring myself to speak. I finally mustered my courage. Abby, after everything you just said, you have no idea what it all means to me. You put up with my bullshit and we just click so well, but I've told you, I've struggled in the past with just letting things happen. And I have to tell you something. She cocked her head, but her face was hard to read. I might be a crazy person, I said. She laughed. What do you mean? I see a corpse.

Two corpses in this house, and nobody else can see him. Her eyes widened a bit at that. I would have stopped there to gauge her reaction, but instead the floodgates opened, and next thing I knew, I was spilling everything to her about Frank and Tina, including my grizzly attempt to move them the previous night. She listened stoically until I was finished. I was afraid to say anything. I didn't want to scare you or anyone. I have no idea what's going on, or why I'm seeing my therapist, and I'm doing everything I can to make them go away. She put a finger to my lips. I think she meant to silence me, but in the end she just stuck her finger into my gums. That's what matters, Jack. You're working to fix it. And you haven't asked me to shoulder

any other burden. I'm sorry you've had to deal with that alone. It's a weird one. Are they... are they in the room with us? Yeah. Frank is right next to my chair. She looked towards the spot. What about the cheerleader? I pointed towards the hall. She looked there too. Oh, man, that gives me chills. How could you ignore them? I just keep insisting to myself that they aren't real. Besides, I wasn't going to let them ruin the evening. She looked back at me and stared thoughtfully for a moment. Okay, Jack, so long as you keep seeing help and all, this isn't a deal breaker.

In fact, I'll be glad to support you through all this. Maybe you've got ghost. Uh, maybe. I can't decide which is worse, haunted or crazy. Whatever the case may be, you're Jack, and I still really like you. Hold on, for the sake of full disclosure, I have a confession to make, too. Oh, God, what could be worse than a literal skeleton in the closet? Living room, you know what I mean? She actually looked away from me and gave a nervous sigh before she continued. When I was in high school, I had a really bad relationship with a guy in college. He was cruel, selfish, and manipulative.

Did he hurt you? I asked after she paused. No. I got lucky. My mom somehow got the message through to me that this guy was bad news, so I sent him a breakup text and tried to just pretend it never happened. But that guy, his name Sherman, he didn't give up. He showed up at my house and wouldn't leave until my parents called the cops.

He stalked me on social media. I blocked him, and so many others that I'm pretty sure were also him. Then later on, he figured out where I went to college. Finally, after trying to corner me in a classroom, I was able to successfully get a legal restraining order. I hoped that would be the end of it, but it wasn't. I can't prove anything yet. But I've seen signs of that asshole, weird anonymous comments online, little notes and odd places.

And I swear I see him sitting in cars sometimes. He might know where I live. She was clearly upset by the time she finished. I'm sorry, Abby. That's really creepy. Yeah, well, you know now. It's something you might have to deal with if you want to stay with me. That's what sucks the most. This asshole makes me drag him through my whole life.

What do you mean if? I bought a house with corpses in it. You really think a creepy X is going to stop me? She smiled. If you're willing to support me, I'd be glad to support you too. The rest of the night was magical. I'd honestly completely forgotten about the rest of the stress in my life. At about 4.30 in the morning, we would were rudely awoken by a blood-curdling scream. It pierced our warm little bubble and ripped us awake. What the hell? Abby shouted. All I could do was make weird noises and whimper. I scrambled up, trying to figure out what to do. Uh, you heard that? Yes, someone screamed. I think someone's broken in. That hadn't even occurred to me. I just assumed Frank and Tina were punished. me for having a good time. Uh, stay here?

I'm not sure why it came out as a question. I was trying to be brave so I could heroically investigate myself, but I failed miserably. No, she replied, grabbing her keys and the pepper spray attached to them. I searched for a weapon and settled on my bedside lamp. Then I led us into the living room where the scream originated. As the bedroom door creaked open, creaked open and I stepped in. The first thing I noticed was the damn graveyard stillness of the room. With all the lights off, it was hard to see, but enough moonlight came through the windows to illuminate things.

I was in full-blown panic moat. I half expected the corpses to be standing there waiting to scream at me some more. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my ears. I scanned the room. Nothing moved. Everything was as silent as the dead, which wasn't helped at all by the dead body on my living room floor, but then I froze. Abby darted out from behind me, flicking on the lights when I forgot to and keeping her finger on the trigger of her pepper spray. I don't see anything, Jack. She turned to look at me. I imagine I looked pale and terrified. Jack, what's wrong? I, uh, I struggled to form words. Abby turning the lights on had confirmed that what I thought I saw in the dark was absolutely true.

I looked at Abby. Tina is missing. Wait, the cheerleader? I could only nod. Frank lay right where he always did, but he was alone. Tina was just gone. The spot where Tina had lay was still brown, and then I noticed another bone-chilling detail. A brown smear led from the spot and into the hallway towards the front door, out of sight.

Had someone dragged her away? I looked closer. There were these splotches, evenly spaced on either side of the smear. I stepped forward for a closer look, and if I could have gotten it. any paler I'm sure I would have. The splotches were handprints. They looked mostly human, but bizarrely thin, almost like Tina's desiccated corpse hands. I looked back at Abby.

I couldn't get another word out. What is it, Jack? She put a hand on my shoulder. It made me feel a little better. I think she crawled away. Abby's eyes went wide. She was scared too now. Why wouldn't she be? Okay. Um, where did she crawl? I cautiously approached the hall to see where the prince led. I actually did shriek then,

as I rounded the corner and spotted the figure on the ground. It was Tina. She lay on the floor, face down, which is not her usual pose, just as dead and unmoving, as she always was. The crawl stain and handprints led right to her, but she just lay there in the middle of the hallway, about ten feet away from her normal spot. Only after I'd stared for a moment. Did I realize the front door was wide open? Ah, the door's open, I said, and I found Tina. That corpse thing is freaking me out. She said, Yeah, me too.

Abby gathered her wits before I did. She stepped into the hall and looked around. Okay, I still don't see a body, but you're right, the door is definitely open. Also, what's this? She walked down the hall as I sheepishly followed her. She bent over and stared at a white boxy thing lying under one of Tina's hands. Is that a camera? It was. I think it was some sort of hybrid of digital and Polaroid.

Yes. Shit. Call the police. Tell them you think you've had a break in. What? Why? My stalker X had a camera like this. Oh, shit. Why did Tina grab the camera?

Tina grabbed it? Her hand is on it. Seriously, call the cops and don't touch the camera. What if they see the body? I don't see it? Why would they? I almost continued to argue, but damn it, I have to stop letting things happen, right? So I called the police.

A patrolman arrived about 15 minutes later. The early morning's son was starting to come up when he arrived. He knocked on the door, shouting, open up, police. I'm pretty sure it was just in my head, but boy did he sound accusatory. I nervously opened the door for him. I'm sorry to bother you this morning, sir, but we've got a slightly unusual situation here. I understand that you called to report a break-in. Yeah, we heard a scream or something at like 4.30 in the morning?

We? Oh yeah, Abby, my girlfriend spent the night here. Abby stepped up beside me as I spoke. We went to investigate, we found the door open and that camera on the floor. I nervously pointed back towards Tina, praying the officer didn't see her like I could. All right, ma'am, can you corroborate all of that? Yeah, that's what happened, officer.

I have to admit something, though. I might have left the front door unlocked last night. I don't remember locking it after I came out to my car. You still had an uninvited intruder who screamed and dropped that camera, right? Yes, sir. The officer kept jotting things down on his clipboard. Okay, so here's the weird part. We got another call from a distraught individual a few seconds before we got yours. He claims to have seen a dead woman in this house, but he was small on the details.

I don't have a warrant or anything, but would you mind if I took a quick look around? Uh, sure. I can't even describe how terrified I was. I think the officer noticed, but Abby stayed in. nice and calm. We stayed right there in the doorway, while the officer stepped into the hall, eyeing the camera, then stepping right over Tina and into the living room. He didn't see her. I let out a relieved sigh. While we stood there waiting for a few minutes, someone started yelling. Abby, get away from him, Abby. He's a killer. I'm saving you. A man dressed in black

clothes came running up to us. Don't worry, Abby. Sherman. Abby freaking growled the name through her teeth. Stay back, Sherman. She shouted. Ah, so this was Sherman. Other than being sweaty looking at the moment, he really didn't look like a shady, creepy stalker. He just looked like some dude. Abby's shout stopped him in his tracks. Abby, the corpse. I said, Stay back, she shouted. You ungrateful bitch, I'm saving your life. What's going on up here? The officer had returned.

Sherman began shouting before anyone else could. Officer, I'm the one who called the police about the murders. Arrest him and get her out of here. Sir, I'm going to need you to calm down. Why don't you explain to us what happened? What's there to explain? The body's right. He suddenly looked confused as he peered past us into the hallway.

It was right there. In the hallway. I was just looking at it. I quizzically looked back. I still saw Tina lying there in the hallway. There's no bodies in this house, sir. It was right there. I just saw it. He moved it. Sir, he's been standing right here this whole time. Now, why don't you explain to me why you came to believe there was a body in the hallway? I... He paused. Because you broke in?

Abby finished for him. No, you left the door unlocked. You clearly invited me. No, I did not. Then why did you leave the door unlocked? You needed me to save you. I left the door unlocked by mistake, Sherman. You aren't saving me from shit.

The officer quieted them both down. Ma'am, do you know this man? Unfortunately, I was granted a restraining order against him, which he is currently violating. Is that so? Sir, I'm going to need you to get on your knees and put your hands on your head for me. Creepy Sherman didn't take that well. Next thing we knew, he was screaming about how much Abby owed him. How she was his.

How she'd been leading him on all along, Sir, stop shouting and get on your knees. But I'm saving her from him. He's not stealing her from me. He killed a cheerleader. I just stood there, with what I hope was a poker face. I'm telling you, officer, it was there. There was a dead body of a cheerleader. It chased me down the damn hole.

The dead body chased you, the officer asked incredulously. There was fear in Sherman's eyes now. He hadn't meant to say that part. I'm going to ask you one more time, get on your knees. Sherman did not cooperate, so the kind officer tasered him into submission, cuffed him, and escorted him away. Abby and I both had to go down to the station to give statements, I tactfully omitted the part about me seeing the bodies too. I'd feel worse about that, but the officer picked up the camera, Tina had returned to her old spot by then, and he found it both on and with its password mysteriously unlocked. Within his image files were dozens of images of Abby. She wasn't aware of the camera

in any of them. He'd been following her for months. The police found that suspicious enough that they searched his car and found duct tape, rags, an ether in his trunk. Who knows what that unassuming shit stain of a human being was planning to do, but he won't be able to haunt Abby ever again. There's more than enough evidence of conspiracy, along with violating a restraining order, breaking and entering, and filing a false claim with the police. I gave Abby some space, but told her if she needed me, I'd be there.

She came over a day later. She hasn't left. So yeah, it's been a hectic week. I'll be scheduling another visit with my therapist to talk about all this. I think I know for sure now, though. Sherman saw Tina when he broke into my house to do whatever it was he was going to do. He saw the same dead woman in the same yellow cheerleader outfit. He even claimed that the dead woman chased him out of the house, that he'd screamed and dropped

his camera as she crawled towards him growling. The police used that as more evidence of lying, but I don't think creepy old Sherman was lying about that. Not that I'll ever say that. It has convinced both me and Abby that what I'm not. I'm experiencing isn't just in my head. Something I can't explain is going on. There's some sort of ghost in my house. Apparently they can move more than I've been led to believe, if they so choose. They seem to have done us a favor, but I can't help feeling scared. What

if it was more of a warning? Boy, this past week has been messing with my head. Abbey Uncocombs. covered something pretty insane. First off, let me just say that things have calmed down for Abby and I after that fiasco with creepy Sherman. Sherman is now behind bars, and it's looking like there's enough evidence to keep him there and get him some therapy. I felt worse for Abby. It's got to be, I don't even know, humiliating, terrifying, enraging, all of the above? Even without the possibly saved by God? Ghost factor, having a creepy ex break into the house you're in and trying to sabotage your life. Yikes. She says she's feeling better now, especially since he's finally in prison, but none

of us are here to hear about run-of-the-mill average everyday spookiness. We're here because there's corpses in my living room that only I can see, well, at least until that stalker broke in. Abby is completely convinced that something parent- is going on. I was pretty convinced too, but I have to admit I was still resisting. He was probably on drugs. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe he knows I post online, I said. The past five days have definitely convinced me though. There's definitely something paranormal going on. First and foremost, Abby looked into missing cheerleaders in our area. Tina's outfit doesn't have a school emblem on it or anything, just a generic go-team. So it was possible it was a costume.

Abby looked into that, and she found something. In the early 90s, a 23-year-old woman disappeared. She was last seen wearing the exact same cheerleader outfit as the corpse in my living room. She'd been at a Halloween party, but here's the scary part. Her name was. Was Tina? Tina Polowski. Finding out there was a missing girl wearing the same outfit as the corpse haunting me was creepy enough. But how the hell did I guess her name?

It had to be an unlikely coincidence, right? Maybe. But then Abby found something else. She plugged in Frank to her search and found Frank Chaplin, a 32-chapplin, a 32-2-year-one. 32-year-old accountant who'd been murdered at an office party. His co-worker, known for being volatile, got drunk and angry and shoved Frank out a window. He fell five stories and hit his head on a stop sign on the way down. He was wearing the same blue shirt and khakis as the corpse in my living room. I have no idea what to make of this. Abby started asking questions about

whether or not I hear voices and such. I had to wonder myself. I mean, we've all got an internal monologue of sorts. Has mine always been mine? Here's the thing, though. I've never seen corpses before. I'm also 90% sure that I've never heard foreign voices in my head. I chose the names Frank and Tina because they just felt right. I really don't know or understand. I really don't know or understand why they felt right, though. Abby thinks maybe they reached out to me somehow. That still sounds like insanity, but who knows? To me, the most important question is why? Why did these two dead people show up at my house? Tina kind of makes sense in a ghost story sort of way. Her body's missing. She wants to be found and possibly avenged. That's a horror story classic.

But what about Frank? 13 witnesses saw his co-worker start a fight and push him out a window. The killer confessed and is now in jail. So why is he here? Hell, he was here first. Is there something he wants to tell the world? Or is there something else going on? So our research has given us some answers, but even more questions. I was interested in testing how exactly the body's work. I tried taking photos of them. In the image, I can see them, but of course nobody else can. Abby just sees carpet. Same with video. But the video did help me prove something else. I had Abby walk towards me and filmed the whole thing. I got her on camera stepping over Frank. She stared at that video for 10 minutes with her brow furrowed in intense focus. It was kind of cute. She says she had to be. no memory of stepping like that, but she clearly sees herself doing it. After that, she started walking back and forth, trying to catch herself doing it again. She even tried it with

her eyes closed. Every time she jumps or steps over the body, and every time she did, she couldn't remember doing it. I came out of the bedroom and found her trying to crawl over the spot one morning. It looked like she was about to shove her face right into Frank's back. Look, I'm on the spot. She called. Actually, you're forming a bridge over Frank. If your legs scoot forward another inch, you'll touch him. I can't. Why? Why what? Why can't you move your leg forward. I'm going to get up now. She struggled to get herself up, acting as if she desperately didn't want to touch the corpse she apparently couldn't see. That's so weird, Jack. I remember not being able to move my leg, but I don't know why. That was an interesting development. Abby has some

idea that she's trying to do something, but she can't. Of course, she's been trying to touch. them a lot, maybe Frank took pity on her. We tried a few more experiments, which were at least interesting. I tried placing a playing card on Frank's back. In theory, if Frank's invisible, Abby should see a floating card, right? Well, she saw the card, but she says it looks like it's sitting on the ground, but it didn't fall right. She tried to explain that it looks like when it hits Frank, It seems to twitch or fall too slow. She said it almost looked glitchy. I tried taking photos and a video of the phenomena, but all of the pictures came out glitched, ironically. The day after our experiments, a new corpse appeared. I really hope they don't keep showing up.

This one was grotesque. I think it's the corpse of a drowning victim. He's all bloated and swollen, like a giant pimple. I can hardly stand looking at his almost inhuman visage for too long. Poor guy. Drowning is not a way I want to go. I got my inspection of him down as quickly as I could, so I could avoid staring longer than I had to. He'd appeared between my kitchen and my living room. He looked soaking wet, but luckily he didn't seem to be leaking. Only the floor right beneath his blood. lubbery-looking body seemed wet at all. His oily, oozy, bloated-looking state almost led me to call him Jabba the hut. But that's just mean. You shouldn't mock the dead, although I would argue the dead shouldn't take up residence in your house without permission. The drowned man is Justin.

Justin felt right. Abby did some web surfing and found a just one. Taylor, who disappeared in the early 2000s a few towns away, after going fishing. He'd presumably fallen overboard and drowned in a lake. His body was never found. I noticed something interesting, though. The bizarrely pale color of the bloated papery skin around his neck showed me another clue. It's bruised. The bruising looks stretched, probably because of how bloated he has, but it definitely

looks like handprints. I think Justin was strangled to death before being dumped in a body of water. See, this sort of ghost makes sense. The world at large doesn't know how he actually died. He has a widow he left behind. People still wonder about his death. That's another classic horror story. What the hell is your deal, Frank? But anyway, Abby and I were out of ideas by then, So she called a friend of hers who came to visit us the next evening. She was a portly, energetic woman, who, just like Abby sometimes, really kicked on the eye shadow. She'd gone with like a golden rod color, and with her dyed black hair, she looked, I don't

even know. She looked unusual, but I don't mean that in an offensive way. We led her into my house, and the first thing she did was turn on a recording app on her phone, turn to me and ask, What's my name? Huh? I don't know. Abby wouldn't tell me. I asked her not to. You can guess names for your ghost. I want to see if it works on the living. So what name feels right for me? That's kind of clever, I thought. I pondered after looking at her for a bit. All I was getting was a partly goth vibe. Uh,

Lilith? She spoke into her phone. Subject's ability only seems to extend to the dead, possible indication of a locational haunting rather than a personal one. She hit a button, then smiled at me and greeted me. Not even close, by the way. It's Tiffany.

Huh. You really don't seem like a Tiffany." I have been told, so let's sit down so I can ask some questions. Do you mind if I record some more?" No. But what kind of questions? She basically had me retell the story again. She went through it with Abby as well.

The first time I saw Frank, when Tina appeared, the Sherman Fiasco, all of it. After that she went through the house with a bunch of dewhickies. that might be familiar to anyone who watches ghost hunting shows or plays plasmophobia. I thought it was all pretty neat. But despite the three specters sitting in the room with me, I was dubious about their effectiveness. She had this one thing called an EMF reader that supposedly measures electromagnetic fields. It's believed ghosts caused fluctuations. She carried it through the house, and according to her, she got no readings until she returned

to the living room where she got steady readings, whatever that means, but only near Frank. Justin and Tina had no magnets, or whatever. Next, Tiffany shined a purple flashlight over everything. It was supposedly an ultraviolet flashlight. Some people believe ghosts might leave traces. They can only be seen in UV. As the light rolled over Tina, both Tiffany and Abby, GASped. Did anyone else see that? I saw a shadow or something and a splotch, Abby replied. Me too. Jack, did you see anything? All I saw was the light passing over Tina. Tiffany kept moving the light around, trying to recreate whatever effects she'd witnessed, but she didn't see anything again. Her last gizmos were both the most dubious, and poplar.

possibly the most successful. She called one box-like thing with an antenna, the spirit box. According to her, it scans radio frequencies and allows ghosts to communicate. Why would ghost use radio waves to communicate? She also had another little thing, a little box with some knobs, a speaker, and a digital screen. Even Tiffany seemed dubious about this one. She said it was like an Avalis.

I don't know what that is, and that it was supposed to allow Ghosts to electronically speak with a digital dictionary. How does that even work? How does it choose a word? I asked Tiffany about it, and she said, Yeah, I have no idea. I think this one's bullshit too, but one time it said dead when I asked what's wrong. The couple who saw that happen are true believers now.

I'm not entirely sure it doesn't just play words at random. them, but I figured I'd bring it. For the next hour or so, we sat together in the living room. Listening to the spirit box spew a bunch of static-y electrical noise. Abby and Tiffany swore they heard things in the noise, but I didn't notice anything. The Avalis, however, might have given us something. I sat with Abby asking questions to the noisy static box. At one point, something like voices came to.

through the noise. Abbey and Tiff got super excited and started carrying the box around the room trying to get a better signal. All the while, the Avelis just spewed words seemingly at random with its loud, unnerving robot voice. Box. Here. Foliage. Fall. None of it seemed to apply to me. Out of boredom, I got up and knelt down next to Frank. This all seems like bold to me, but as I knelt there and kept asking questions, I swear the ovulus, or ovulus, I'm not really sure how to say it, suddenly became coherent. Why are you guys coming here? Escape. Escape from what? It. Why me? There was a long pause after this one. Special.

Why am I the only one who sees you? Unknown. Did I get your names right? We. Who are you? Hide. How did I? The box cut me off. It. It.

What about it? Coming. That one sent a chill through me. What is it? I never got an answer to that. The device went quiet for a few minutes, before talking again, but I honestly couldn't tell if it was responding to questions or not. Over the next 15 minutes, it randomly blurted out these words.

Special, pray, escape, assist, release, it, hunt. After that, it stopped talking altogether. We didn't get anything more from the spirit box either. I wasn't entirely convinced that Tiffany's investigation wasn't all just random. Tiffany herself seemed to feel the same. Honestly, she's pretty cool. And I need to have her over for board game night at some point, but I digress. When we finished, she sighed.

Well, as always, the evidence I've gathered just brings a whole lot of maybe rather than anything definitive. There were some interesting things, though. I'm going to review everything and do a bit of research. I'll let you know if I come up with anything. Thanks for having me, guys. I never get to play with my cool ghost gadgets." We thanked her.

That was two days ago. Two things have happened since then. Firstly, a new body has appeared. This one is downright, sinister. I first found it when I opened my oven to stick in some chicken. Sitting on the rack, in a 375 degree oven, was a severed head. It looks old. Its hair is white, stringy, and what remained of its flesh looks like burnt jerky.

Its teeth were almost green in its mouth, and with its lips decayed and peeled away, it has a constant corpse grin. It's only got one dry, dead I left. I swear the thing's always looking at me, even though I never see it move. Worst of all, unlike Frank, Tina, and Justin, this one moves. It never does it in a way that I can see, mind you. But for the last two days, I keep finding that creepy severed head in weird, random places. I walk into my living room and it's sitting on my couch.

I go to the bathroom and find it sitting on the sink. I even found it on the fridge once. I haven't noticed any pattern or anything to its movements. It just sort of shows up, always with that horrible grin and always with its dead eye fixed on me. So that's really unnerving. The second thing that's happened, Tiffany thinks she's got a working theory after reviewing her findings.

She found some noises while studying the sound. files of her spirit box recording and she sent me the files. Most of it sounded like animal growls, but there were a few that sounded like voices. One sounded like a woman saying, I'm in the woods. Another sounded like a person. I think it's a man making strangled sounds. The last one definitely sounds like a man saying get away or maybe got away. Based on this, and the device's repeated use of the words, it, special, and escape. Tiffany believes that for some reason the ghost of murder victims are getting trapped in this house because it's special.

They want help to escape. They appear to me because it's possible that I am special, to which I say, I'm not. Leave me alone, ghosts. It's not a bad theory, but I have my doubts. I think she's right about the house being special. But after this severed head showed up, I don't think it is a place the spirits are trying to escape. I think it might be, I don't know, an entity?

The reason I believe this is one more chilling detail about my new decapitated resident. I can't think of a name for it. Okay, to hell with that thing. The head is kind of an asshole and a huge pervert. I also think it's trying to kill me. I keep finding it in compromising positions with the corpses. One evening I found it sitting on the floor right between Tina's legs amid her ropey intestines angled so it stared right up her skirt.

Another time I found it lodged in the hole in her torso, staring out in grinning. like a mischievous child. Another time I found it right next to Frank's head. It looked like it was making out with the crushed remains of his skull. If I were still a teenager, and these weren't damn cadavers, I might have found this darkly humorous. Hell, Abby laughed when I told her it was snuggling with Justin's bloated belly, but as it stands, it's just freaking me out? The damn thing just carries a sinister air with it. Every time I see it, I feel it in my gut. Cold, creeping. Dread. As time's gone on, I feel like I'm dealing less with a precocious trickster and more with a psychopath, one that legitimately has no regard or respect for these spirits,

and least of all, for me. Just to make it worse, whenever Abby's over, it follows her to the bathroom or pops up when she's changing in other perverted things. I'm really glad she can't see it. I swear, it's got a lecherous look in its eyes. When it's not creeping the shit out of me, it's popping up in front of me or behind me. I swear, it's like it's trying to jump scare me. And it's working. It got me in the kitchen once and I almost fell with a big cooking knife in my hand.

I could have hurt or killed myself. I tried talking to it. What do you want? Are you trying to hurt me? Can you communicate? Et cetera, et cetera. The jerk just stared at me, grinning like some undead joker figure. Even worse, I swear it's affected the air in my house. It's freezing in there now.

The only reason I haven't turned the heater on is because it's the middle of May and I can open a window or go outside if I'm cold. I'm also poor shit. Another thing, I smell something. I swear I smell old cheese or something. It's faint, but I definitely smell it. It comes and goes, a faint sour whiff that slips in and slips out again, but it never truly goes away. We invited Tiffany out to try once more, other than the abnormal cold. We literally got nothing. No voices from the spirit box, no words, and no fluctuations from the EMF reader. It's like all the spirits here have just gone quiet.

A few nights ago, I hit my limit. I fell asleep a little early. I haven't been sleeping well. But I had an awful dream that someone was boring into my skull, I mean that figuratively, and very literally. Some cloaked figure was trying to drill into my temple with some kind of power tool, all the while, moaning let me in as it tried to force itself into my freaking ear. I woke up at 11.30, and that head was sitting on my nightstand, staring right at me,

grinning away. At that point, I was just done. I was convinced this undead miscreant was now trying to possess me thanks to that dream, and I just couldn't bear the thought of staying in the house anymore. I called Abby, who told me I could come stay with her. I grabbed some clothes, some bathroom supplies, and I got the hell out. It was about midnight when I pulled into the parking lot of Abbey's apartment building. Abby was there to greet me with a soothing hug. I just stood there, enjoying the comfort for a moment. We were interrupted by her phone buzzing in her pocket. Sorry, sometimes I game too long, so I have a midnight alarm to make sure I go to sleep. She exclaimed as she sheepishly silenced her device.

Oh, hey, a horsey. I looked where she was pointing. Sure enough, a black horse was clopping down the road, pulling a black carriage, being driven by a rider cloaked in black. Wow, that's a spooky horsey, she added. I could only agree. When the horse passed beneath a streetlight, it looked. It looked otherworldly.

Though that might have been the carriage it was pulling, or the rider holding the reins, the carriage itself looked like something out of a funeral. The wheel spokes looked like bones, which seemed silly to me. And the dark wood just looked kind of like a huge coffin. The rider was a woman. She wore a black mask over her nose and mouth. She eyed Abby and I as she rode past and even gave us a wave. She seemed polite enough, but on that carriage and wearing those robes she was wearing,

she looked like she just stepped out of a gothic novel. She also kind of reminded me of the figure from my dreams. The carriage moved past us and stopped in an intersection a few streets away. At that point that was done looking at it. Well, that was weird, I said. Think it's one of your ghost? Abby asked with a laugh. God, I hope not. I don't know how to deal with spectral horse poop. Also, you could see it too, right? Yeah, I saw the creepy horse and carriage. Let's get you inside. Maybe being out of the haunted house will do you some good. Also, have you seen your therapist yet? I had not. I keep putting off my return. return visit to Mrs. Lang, I should really go give her an update.

No, I keep canceling. First it was Sherman, then Tiffany. Please don't stop with a therapy, okay? For some reason, that night Abby's request felt like badgering insistence. Maybe it's distress. I will, Abby. I snapped. I'm going through some shit is all. We almost got into an argument.

All I ask is that you keep going." I almost retorted, but then I stopped to think. Abby didn't have to stick with me and let me stay over. She volunteered to, even after I started getting haunted by ghosts. The least I could do was look after myself. Sorry, I snapped. I will. I promise.

She gave me another hug and we headed inside. I got to meet her cat, Whiskers, who is a mischievous but friendly little black and white short hair. He only needed to sniff me once before crawling into my lap. That lasted about five minutes. Then it was bitey playtime. Thankfully, Abby shooed him away and actually got a decent night's sleep. It was glorious. No nightmares, no tension.

None of that feeling I have of holy shit there are ghost corpses in the other room. So now here I am. Feeling a lot better. Now that I'm away from that head, whom I will refer to from here on out, as jerkface. I have no idea what to do now. I actually sat down and looked at some numbers. Selling the house and moving out isn't exactly feasible for me right now. So eventually, I need to solve this. Maybe I should just hire an exorcist. Either way, tomorrow, I'll be heading back. I do have a strange feeling of foreboding after being gone. What sort of mischief will jerkface get up to on a night when I'm not there to torment? Oh, God. Oh shit. I'm outside my house right now, just close enough for the Wi-Fi.

Things were bad enough when we woke up to find a madhouse in the streets outside. I saw a flashing light. up at that intersection where the horse and carriage was. It was a huge accident. No idea what happened, or if someone died. But it took us an hour just to leave the parking lot and drive a few blocks for breakfast. When we finally reached my house, I was hopeful. Abby and I checked it out. As usual, she didn't see anything, but oh shit, I did. The first thing I noticed when I opened the door was that I couldn't see Tina's upper half in my hallway like I normally could. There was just a dry blood stain where she usually lay. Whoa, are they gone? I ran in excitedly, with Abby close behind me. What little hope I had faded quickly. Frank and Justin are lying right

where they always were, but I couldn't find jerk face. He was nowhere to be found, until I opened the basement and turned on the light. There I found a nightmare. Dozens of bodies, all in varied states of dress and decay lay in a massive round pile on the floor, just a few meters from the stairs. Despite being just as still as Frank, I swear they were all writhing in agony. Those that had faces expressed pain or fear. They lay there, dead eyes staring blankly, Rodded hands reaching for the ceiling. Perched on top of this disgusting pillar of death

was none other than jerkface himself. I swear it almost looked like he was smirking at me from his throne. He had something. I didn't recognize clutched in his teeth. I took one second to take a closer look before I bolted from the basement in terror. It was Tina's cheerleading skirt. I have no idea what's going on in my house, but I think I need to take another day off, or ten. It's Jack. Abbey had a weird experience. She insisted on telling you all herself. Hey everyone, this is Abby.

Jack will fill you in some more when I'm done, but I have a story to tell and I'm fairly certain it's relevant. It started three days ago. Jack's been in and out of my apartment. He's afraid to go back to his house and frankly, I don't blame him. He's lucky he's cute and funny, but anyway, I still can't see the bodies in his house, but I'm pretty sure I saw jerk face. That first day, when Jack was looking in the basement, just seconds after he screamed and

bolted up the stairs, I happened to catch sight of my reflection in his shiny oven, and there was something on the table staring at me. It was absolutely hideous, and honestly it gave off the same vibes as Sherman only ramped up to eleven. It was this gross little rotten skull with this grin on its face and a girl's skirt dangling from its mouth. I whipped my head towards the table, but nothing was there. We both decided to get the hell out at that point. We passed through the hallway and again, I swear I saw a head in the reflection of the mirror on the wall.

The look it was giving me with its one eye made me very very. uncomfortable. We left and drove back to my apartment in silence. The traffic there was finally starting to clear, but it still took ten minutes longer than it should have. I asked Jack what he saw when he was already, and he told me about the pile of bodies and that Tina was missing, and that the jerkface head had her skirt in its teeth. I shuddered. I'm ashamed to say I didn't tell Jack right away that I saw the head too. I was scared. I was on board with being supportive to my boyfriend while he dealt with some shit, but now that I saw it too, it suddenly felt more real. We were both late for work that day, and I went through it in a bit of a haze. At some point,

the insidious question entered my mind. Can I handle this? It stuck with me all day. That night I got home and let Jack into my house and we tried to game a bit together. My head just wasn't in it. Jack's wasn't either. I'd kick his ass at Fortnight, but he's usually at least a decent challenge. At around 11, we were both done. I told him I needed a bit of space and that I was going for a walk. I could tell I'd hurt him.

That sucked. I didn't kick him out of the house, mind you. I just kind of wanted to be alone and grab a drink. So I armed myself with pepper spray, walked to a nearby bar, and started ordering cocktails. Before I knew it, my midnight go-to-bed alarm was going off. I was getting pretty tipsy after my third Mai Tai. I pulled out my wallet to see if I could afford another one, but before I could, someone slapped down some strange-looking coins while signaling the barkeeper.

Curious. I looked up. It was the carriage rider woman from the carriages. night before, she was wearing the same robes. She slipped off her mask and smiled at me, before pulling up a chair to sit with me. Hey, you're the carriage rider, right? She smiled and nodded. She was pretty. She had a broad-shouldered athletic build, and she looked a bit pale, but she had a smooth, girlish face and emerald-green eyes. She tucked her dark hair behind her ear as she got her

herself settled. The bartender arrived and scooped up her weird silver coins. The usual Shaley? The woman nodded before pointing to me. The bartender nodded and said, She wants to buy you a drink. What do you have? It took me a second to realize the bartender was talking to me. I might have gotten a little flustered. I've had people try to buy me drinks before, but never a lady and a mostly empty bar. I wasn't quite sure what to do. Was this flirty or friendly drink buying? Oh, I, uh, I looked at the benefactor. She leaned back, an eyebrow raised, and somehow I just

understood she was being friendly. It was still pretty strange, and normally I'd be creeped out. Actually, I was pretty creeped out, but I just didn't care enough. I wanted more alcohol. Uh, how about a Long Island? You got it, replied the bartender. Come to think of it, I didn't recognize him. He must be a new guy. The guy was so smooth-skinned, he could have been a child, but he sure was built like a man.

I shook it off and turned to the carriage rider who was eyeing me thoughtfully. Thanks, I'm Abby. The woman sort of bowed her head. In your... Was it Shaley? She nodded. Well, thank you, Shaley. I think I could use another drink.

What brings you here? She held up a finger as if to say, hold on before dragging her thumb across her neck. I noticed she was wearing a pretty black choker with some pretty designs in the leather. You... You hurt your neck? She sort of nodded. Before gesturing to her open mouth. and shaking her head.

You can't talk. She snapped her fingers and nodded. Bingo. The bartender returned with our drinks then, my Long Island, and a big pint of dark beer from my new mute friend. Guinness, maybe. He also sat down a pencil and a pad of paper for her. That was very perceptive of him, but they seemed to know one another.

I stole another glance at the bartender. I swear that guy was smooth. He could be a frickin' Tolkien elf. Shaley waved him before taking a long, impressive swig of her drink. Then she wrote something and slid her pad towards me. I read it as I sipped at my cocktail. It read, Why are you drinking alone? Oh, I'm not looking for.

She cut me off with a wave of her hand and looked at me again. Her green eyes held curiosity. Sorry, I said, I'm used to talking people out of hitting on me at the bar. She smirked and silently laughed at that. Then she wrote something else. It said, I totally get it, but you were with someone. Trouble? I sat there, trying to figure out what to say, and if I should say it.

Well, it's not that I don't like him. I want to stay. It's just we're dealing with some very... unusual drama. Shaley cocked her head, asking me to continue. I have no idea how to explain this. It's more his business than mine. She nodded in understanding before scribbling, I can handle weird. I ride in a spooky carriage. If you want, you can talk to me. I think it was the alcohol, but for whatever reason, I told her everything I knew, everything Jack had told me. How he saw things I couldn't.

How I'd seen enough that I actually believed it was real. How I seemed to inadvertently step over unseen corpses every time I'm in his living room, how we'd found names for some of them, how we tried to detect them, and communicate with them with my friend Tiffany, and how now something more sinister had arrived. Something that actively stalked his house, scaring Jack. Apparently purving on me and now eating the other spirits or something. I also mentioned that I think I can see the little jerk face too. Shaley sat drinking down Guinness and nodding thoughtfully.

Who knew? Mute people make great listeners. I think I might be a shitty person. Finally, I sucked down the last of my cocktail and finished spilling my guts. I handle this? Having a human stalker was bad enough. Can I handle getting involved with a ghost stalker? Out of nowhere, the smooth-skinned bartender appeared. He set another drink down, a delicious-looking, frosty, strawberry dackery, with whipped cream and everything. On the house. May I be so bold as to offer a few words?

If you're giving me this delicious thing, you can say anything. Well, not anything, but, you know, yes, you can talk. He chuckled at my slightly tipsy response. That should be your last, I think. But based on what I heard, there's no shame in leaving if you feel overwhelmed. He stood by you when your ex broke in, sure, but that doesn't mean you owe him. But here's the thing. It doesn't sound like he wants you to owe him.

And it sounds like you don't want to leave. even if you did. The man had a voice, like musical honey. I let his words ring in my ears as I pondered them. Maybe I'm tipsy, but I think you're right. Thank you, smooth, honey-tongued stranger. You are indeed tipsy, but that's okay. No more after that one.

I took a long swig of my delicious daquery, giving myself a brain freeze naturally. Before turning to my silent companion, she was busy scribbling something. I tried to lean over and read, but she covered it up. So I sat, sipping my sugary drink. When it was all gone, I'd made up my mind. Jack's the great guy. I'll stick with him.

I just, I hope the creepy head thing isn't always part of the package. Shaley looked up at me and smiled. She tore a scrap off her pad and scribbled down. It won't. How do you know? You some kind of severed head expert? She shrugged and looked away in an exaggeratedly embarrassed manner, as if to say, maybe.

She scribbled down one more thing. It said, Give this to Jack. It will help you both. She slipped a folded-up paper into my palm, then gave my hand a brief squeeze before getting up and walking out the door. Her exit was very abrupt. Why don't I walk you home?

It was the smooth man. I trusted him to be a gentleman, but I have no idea why. What about the bar? It's been closed since eight. I've just been hanging around. I... What? Don't worry.

The bar keeps have been paid. Let's get you home. He calmly guided me through the streets. Thankfully, I wasn't so drunk I was stumbling or anything, but it was nice to not have to walk home alone at night. When we reached my building, he took his leave. Will you make it up the stairs? I'm not that tipsy.

By the way, that was the best dacery I've ever had. Brad, thanks. But what's your name? I turned to him, and he was just gone. There weren't any trees nearby, and there's no way he made it around the corner that fast. That was pretty creepy, so I hustled inside and got into bed. The next morning, Jack and I talked about everything that happened, and I confessed my love for him again. He just hugged me. We read Shayley's note together, It was cryptic, to say the least. This is what it said. Jack and Abbey.

You've fallen into an otherworldly situation. Your house is warded against some things, but not others. Some sought sanctuary within. You can see them. That gave them hope and even strength, but their strength drew in the others. One managed to slip past the wards. It's dangerous, but it can't hurt you while it's incomplete. Gold will ward it off, but you have to expel it.

You don't have to do it alone, but it'll cost something, something precious to you. You'd be wise to find the names of the rest of the dead in your home, also totally unrelated. You two make a really cute couple." The note ended. I'm not sure what to make of any of this, the disappearing bartender, the mute carriage rider with the weird coins, the fact that I apparently wandered into a closed bar and nobody noticed. It's all very strange.

Accepting the ghosts was tough enough. Were those two people human? Jack again. I'm not sure what to make of Abby's tale either. Not that I don't believe her. I've got a teleporting head on a throne of dead people in my basement. A weird trip to the bar is nothing. I'm more interested in how this Shaley seems to know about any of this. Is she really trying to help? What if she's setting a trap? And what does she mean by a price, something precious? I don't know. I appreciate the advice we've got. gotten and I'll see how jerkface reacts to gold.

But Shayley sounds a bit Faustian. Up yours, you little shit. Okay, Shaley was right. Jerkface is afraid of gold for some reason. I think we got rid of him. Screw you, you little spectral asshat. Now I can fix my basement window and put my house back together and figure out what to do with all these corpses.

With all that said, let me back up. It's been about a week since Abbey's trip to the bar. Neither of us have seen the mysterious rider or carriage since then. I did some digging. Our region doesn't have horse-drawn carriage as an attraction. In order to ride a horse-drawn carriage, you need to register for various things with the city, and nobody's on file. So either Shayley is something otherworldly, or she's riding illegally. I suppose she could be both, too. Either way, it's kind of sketchy. All the same. We took her advice. Abby lent me some gold jewelry of hers. I put on all the rings in the gold necklace chain before returning to my house once more. Even though I went in in the morning on a

bright sunny day, it was downright eerie in there. The door creaked ominously as I pushed it open and stared into the darkened halls. It was cold in there. I could actually see my breath in places. The bloodstains on the floor didn't help either. I made my way into the living room, where I discovered that Justin had now vanished, leaving behind a black substance in the carpet. Frank was there, but he looked even more dead than usual. I actually stopped to take a look, because I could just see that something was different. He looked more decayed. Pieces of him were missing, mostly the skull fragments. Was jerkface actually eating him? Abbie put a hand on my shoulder, which gave me a bit more courage. I made my way to the basement and I threw open the door.

A blast of even colder air hit Abby and I. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Okay. You want to wait here? No, I'll come with you. You feel that, right? The cold? Yes, but something else. Also, that smell. Old cheese? Yeah. Does it always smell like that? Not at first. It's gotten stronger.

It's freaking me out that I can sense it more. I put a hand on her shoulder and hoped it was as really. hoped it was as reassuring as hers was. Me too. You still don't see Frank. No. Your carpet looks completely clean to me. I really wish I knew why only I can see these bodies, but she can sense jerkface.

Jerkface is something different. We steled ourselves and descended into the dank cold of the basement. The pile of bodies was right where I left it. And there was jerkface, sitting on top, but he wasn't grinning this time. His dried lips had somehow curled into an angry snarl, and his normally milky white eye now possessed an oversized black pupil that fixed itself on me. A few things happened next. First, Abby grabbed hold of my arm and let out a cry of fright.

I see it, Jack. I see the head. She called as she clung to me. Then jerkface did something I've never seen him do before. He moved. It was subtle. The pupil in his eye shifted focus from me over to Abbey. I saw the movement clear as day and I almost jumped out of my skin.

I tried and failed to be brave. I stumbled back away from the horrid thing that was now breaking its own rules. Somehow I managed to hold up the hands wearing all the gold rings, and jerkface's beady eye flitted back to me, and I swear it's scowl intensified. After a few tense moments, Abbey nudged me, and we both took a step forward. Time to leave. I managed to stutter out. Jerkface remains still, aside from its eye, which flitted around like a buzzing fly pointing

from me to Abby, to the gold rings, and back to me again. I summoned up my courage and took another step forward, and all hell broke loose. Abby and I both watched in fascination and horror as the severed head we called jerkface lifted itself into the air, its mouth dropped open to silently scream at us for a moment before it sailed around us. up the stairs and out of sight. The head flies, Abbey said in disbelief. After a few moments of silence, I winced when I heard a crash from upstairs. We both ran up and found the rotting head, sailing around like a caged animal, smacking

into walls and furniture and knocking over pretty much everything. It broke vases, it knocked over my shelf of video games, and most of the same. egregiously it destroyed my little shrine to Godzilla I've amassed a decent collection of figures of the big guy and not all of them were plastic when I watched the Godzilla coffee mug crashed to the floor and shatter it was the last damn straw for roughly a quarter of an hour I chase that little asshole through my house trying to force it away from valuables and hurt it out the window naturally it refused to leave or

Maybe it couldn't. Abby opened the front door and all the windows she could, but it refused to fly through them. Somehow we ended up chasing it back downstairs where it opened the door to a closet with its teeth and sailed inside. I ran in after it, then breathed a sigh of relief. Jerkface was gone. There's a small basement window in this closet, and it had been shattered.

whatever reason, it didn't mind exiting through this one. By the look of the water stains and glass on the floor, this window had likely been shattered for a while. I have a feeling this is how Jerkface got in the house in the first place. Somehow I hadn't noticed one of the windows was broken while I was mowing the lawn for the past three weeks. To be fair, it's obscured by a window well on the outside. But anyway, the point is Jerkface left the same way.

I shut the door to that closet and left the gold chain on the doorknob. I hope that's enough to keep that little asshole out. The effects of him leaving were immediate. First off, the cold throughout the house began to dissipate. I could literally feel the warmth coming back. Secondly, the pile of bodies scattered themselves. Most of them were kind enough to lay themselves out in the basement. But a few appeared upstairs with Frank.

There are some pretty grotesque looking figures. Some are broken, some are burned, some aren't much more than bones. One poor guy had a freaking pole through his skull. I spent some time looking at them all. In total, I have 15 bodies in my house now. I think I have names for all of them, but Abby and I still need to confirm them. Finally, Justin and Tina are back in their old places. As weird as it sounds, I'm kind of glad.

They look like they've been through the ringer. Tina's skirt is back, but it definitely looks like an animal had been chewing on it, and she just looks greyer, more desiccated. It's hard to explain. I'm not saying they look like they've decomposed more. That would actually make sense. I'm saying they look less. I don't know. I honestly don't know what jerkface was doing with these souls.

We spent the rest of the day picking up the mess jerkface made of my house. He broke several picture frames, a bunch of dishes, and he knocked the two or three plants I have over. I panicked a little when I couldn't find the centerpiece of my Godzilla shrine. It may not seem special. It's just an old cheaply made plastic Godzilla toy. His eyes are crudely, painted and his lips are red for some reason. But that shitty little toy with a broken tail is my oldest toy. I had it back in grade school. I found it across the room with a plant on top of it. You'll pay for that one, jerkface. A few days later, my house was back in order. Well, aside from the corpses. Abby got Tiffany to help us do some research. We've confirmed names for most of the bodies in my house.

Thomas Jane, a stockbroker who'd been hit by a car after he stumbled out of a party. There's Genevieve Williams, an engineer who'd left a party only to be killed by her own boyfriend in a drunken rage. There's Decker Bentley. Another stockbroker who'd left a party and crashed into a fence after swerving to avoid a drunk driver. That's the guy with a pipe through his head. There's more, but I don't need to list them all. There's only one thing all of them have in common with a possible exception of Justin. And that's that they were all at, or leaving parties late at night before they died. Most of them are from nearby. Only three died out of state, and all of them were only in the next state over. Some are murder victims. Some aren't. Only Tina and

Justin have any mystery to their deaths. Frank is the most recent. He died only two years ago. The oldest so far, died in the early 90s. Other than this, nothing new has happened since we chased out the jerk. I've gotten my window replaced, and then I hung the gold chain to the side of it. Tiffany has come over to try her ghost tools some more. She says she's got some interesting readings. But we've talked, and we've all agreed that somehow, jerkface was at the center of this. Tiffany came up with a working theory.

First off, we know that Jerkface is afraid of gold seems to collect the dead, and as far as we know, it's just a severed head. The fact that my house prevented it from entering got Tiffany thinking. She brought over a metal detector and started using it on the walls. She found something in a spot where we're pretty sure there aren't any vents. She then unscrewed a power outlet and fed one of those little cameras on a tube into my wall. We found the bottom of some sort of metal object seemingly nailed to the wooden beams. She determined that it was an iron horseshoe.

According to old Irish and Celtic legends, iron repels fairies. So it was customary in some places to hang a horseshoe on the wall to prevent any mischievous entities from entering. Apparently, the previous owners were a superstitious group, lucky for the first me. So, jerkface is some sort of Celtic fairy being, but Tiffany got it nailed down further. According to old legends, anyone who heard the wails of a banshee would be visited by a coach, pulled by a black horse, driven by a rider without a head. This being carried a human spine in one hand and its own severed head in the other. Its face was a man. was hideous, with a grin that spread from ear to ear. They collect the souls of the dead

and carry them away in their coach. They call this being the Doolahan. Innocence could sometimes encounter this being, if they were out on the roads at midnight. If they encountered it, they could drive it away with gold, which would make it disappear. But those foolish enough to watch it for too long were in danger of having their eyes whipped out by the spine they carry or having a bucket of blood thrown at them. From here on out, I'll be assuming that jerkface is a Doolahan, or at least the head of a Doolahan. But where's the rest of it? Those bits about the creepy coach and black horse, those sound more like Shaley, but she still has her head, or at least we think so. Abbey now believes that

choker Shaley wore could have been keeping her head on, like that one old story about the woman with a ribbon around her neck. Abby pointed out that every time she saw Shaley, it was midnight. Is Shaley also a Doolahan? What are a pair of Irish death fairies doing in Middle America? What is jerkface doing to these souls? It doesn't seem like he's taking them anywhere. They're all from relatively close by, and why does Shaley seem to want to help? Well, an old friend just came to visit. I was distracted from my writings by a frightened squeak from Abby. She was pointing out the window behind me. I turned my head, and there was jerk face, a few feet away, perched on the ledge outside my window. His grin was wider than ever.

I sat there aghast as that horrible eye flitted between us. And then, long, spidery fingers, literally made out of only bone and gristle, lifted the top of the skull up. A figure that apparently had been squatting down on my freaking azaleas rose to its feet. It had to be six and a half feet tall, and that's without a freaking head. It wore dark, ratty leather that failed to cover the fact that the body beneath was mostly rotted meat and bone, yet somehow it cut a hulking and imposing figure. It raised up the head we called jerkface so it could continue to ominously stare at us.

Hey, guys, I think I found, oh my God, Tiffany said as she entered the room. It seemed she could see the headless skeletal revenant outside my window, too. Seconds ticked by intense silence, and slowly the window began to fog up as if it were icy cold out there. Soon we can only barely make out that horrible grin. Our hearts leapt to our throats when we saw the thing move. Then something touched the glass. It was the creature's finger.

Slowly, it began dragging its finger along the surface of the window. It created a scratching sound like stone as it moved. I think it really is all bone. Finally, I realized it was writing something in the fog. It wrote backwards in English so we could read it from our side. Words won't keep me out forever. The souls are mine. Give them to me and you won't see them or me ever again. Otherwise, face my...

There was a pause before the scratching finished with... Oh! It concluded this by underlining that last line several times. The thing is kind of dramatic. But I guess you can be when you're a six-foot headless zombie monster. I'm 90% sure that if I give it the bodies, how the hell would I even do that? It would just try to kill me anyway. I don't think I should trust it. But all I really want is for my house to be a damned house where I can settle in, build

a happy relationship with my girlfriend and just live my life. If it's the truth. This could all be over. But I don't think I can do it. Tina saved us. But I think Abby, Tiffany and I are going to talk this over. Why did I just ignore this? I could have just waited another month for a different house to come up.

Shit, I just let shit happen. Even when I know it's going to hurt me, I should really make an appointment with my therapist. Spare a thought for Shaley the Doolaham. She's a quiet lady. who opted to do very lonely work. She has a long trip home ahead of her. I don't think she likes humans very much, but that doesn't stop her from doing her duty. I wish her the best, and I hope my old friend keeps her company. If you see her, try not to stare. It's not safe. Things came to a bloody crescendo three days ago, but now things are winding down. I'm still coming to turn. I'm still coming to

terms with all of it, Abby has decided to move in with me when her leases up. She started slowly moving her stuff over. Whiskers likes it here. He sniffs at the place where the bodies were. I wonder if he can sense something. But I'm way too far ahead of myself. I should tell you all what happened. After Jerkface arrived with his threat, Abby, Tiffany and I discussed what we should do at length. We all considered, but in the end, rejected him. that thing's proposal. Whatever it was doing to these bodies, it was definitely having a negative effect on them. As much as I want them all gone, I'm not giving them to a monster. Based on our research, they were just regular people. Saints and sinners alike. Jerkface made it clear. It

had little regard for them other than, as it said, those souls are mine. But once we'd made that decision, The next one was the hard one. What do we do? Tiffany slept on my couch that night. I wouldn't want to go outside after seeing that thing either. The next day, we all had to call off work. I looked out the window and found that jerkface never left. It stood there in the middle of my backyard with its head under its arm, staring in at us.

For some reason, I was the only one that could see it. Abby and Tiff saw it before, but not now. It just stood there, barely moving. The sunlight made parts of its meaty hide glisten. Scared as she was, Tiffany was excited. I've spent my whole life hoping for a hint of something supernatural. I'm a skeptic, but I don't want to be a damn skeptic. I want to find ghosts. You've got one. I just need to record it. Somehow. I couldn't blame her. If this shit was happening to me, I'd find it fascinating too.

I let her set up a camera that pointed a jerk face and then walked her to her car. She drove off for supplies. She was back a few hours later with more recording devices. I ran out with all the gold on me to help her, and when we got back, the jerk had vanished. The flowers might have worked, Tiffany said. She guided me to her trunk. Hey, Marsh marigolds. They're supposed to keep the fay away too.

I can't say for sure if it was the flowers that scared off the jerk, but I wasn't going to turn down the extra protection. We put them under my windows. All three of us spent the rest of the day going over everything we knew. We were trying to prepare. We just had no real idea what we were preparing for. The corpses just lay there, as devoid of answers as ever. I went into the basement and just shouted at them for help. You know, Tina managed to move when she wanted.

Why can't the rest of you help? After a minute of that, I burst out laughing. It was all pretty absurd. Here I was, yelling at the bodies only I can see, about pulling their weight in the fight against the magical headless, death fairy that runs from shiny objects. This is my life now, because I didn't have the guts to say no when there was something weird about a house. As I sat there stewing, for just a second I swore I felt something. It was the same sort of feeling I got. When Abby laid a comforting hand

on my shoulder, it was apologetic, thankful, sympathetic, and almost sheepish all at once. I didn't feel it physically, but I felt it all around me at the same time and then it was gone. Was that just in my head? Or were the spirits here telling me, sorry, were putting you through this? Why am I certain that most of that feeling came from Frank upstairs? Before I knew it, night had fallen, and suddenly everything became eerie and foreboding again. It was a warm summer evening, but all the same a cold mist seemed to rise from the earth. It curled around bushes, cars and mailboxes, and made pretty much every innocent shadow

briefly look like a prowling monster. We ate dinner in silence and kept an uneasy vigil on both sides of my yard. At some point past ten, the power to the whole freaking neighborhood went out. Oh shit. Abby, Tiffany and I set it together. I used my phone's light to seek out my candles and flashlights, but before I could find them, a sound like the crack of a whip came from somewhere outside. It was followed by the sound of a pot shattering.

We heard the crack again, then again. Many more times all around my house. I think it's attacking the plant pots, Abby whispered. Even if it kills them, it can't get in, right? I said back. The legend says no, but I honestly don't know. It's a legend. Who knows what's true and what isn't?

Tiffany replied. We cowered closer when we heard the whip crack once again. Can we call for help? Abby asked. We all scrambled for our phones, but like every horror man, movie ever, even with 5G and a solid plan giving me unlimited access data, all of our phones were mysteriously non-functional. There was nothing any of us could do to contact the outside. You gotta be kidding me. That thing's like a hundred years old. How the hell does it know how

to interfere with cell phones? Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it just affects things like this, Tiffany suggested. hours. Whatever was outside kept cracking its whip, keeping us nice and terrified. It stopped breaking pots after the first ten minutes. After that it seemed to just be smacking at the walls. I think it's trying to knock the horseshoes down," Tiffany stated. What can we do? I asked. I don't know. I found myself staring. At Frank and Tina, I remembered how I felt in the basement. I also remembered how quickly jerkface ran when I brandished gold at him. No more letting this shit happen, I thought.

Abby, give me the gold. Please don't go out there. I have to. I could have avoided all of this if I just said no when I saw the body. But then they wouldn't be getting your help. I quiet you. I'm having a personal epiphany. I'm not letting this jerk tear my house apart. It's afraid of gold, right? If it starts swinging its whip at me, I'll come back inside. Jack. I didn't let her finish. I became every male cliche ever as I grabbed up the gold jewelry and charged outside to face my oppressor. Listen, jerk, this is my house. You aren't welcome here. And I'm not letting you abuse the ghost either. I stepped off the back patio with my gold-clad hand held as high as my pride.

Jack, Abby whispered from behind me. Shaley said it couldn't hurt you while it was incomplete. That means it can now. Get back inside. Oh shit. That's a good point. Were the thoughts my brain was putting together, but before they even finished, I was face down in the dirt with the back of my head throbbing in pain. Something had hit me hard

enough that I saw stars. I managed to roll over and caught a brief glimpse of the silhouette on my roof. A massive, headless humanoid, squatting down like an animal with a bony whip in its hand. Its head was tucked under its other arm. The gleam from some Eldridge light shimmered off its one eye, making it glim. limer in the darkness. It raised its arm, preparing to crack its whip across my head again, but Abby came out of nowhere and threw something at it. Whatever it was caused the fiend to scramble away, tripping over itself as it went. Abby squatted down to help me up. I shook off my days as best I could and scrambled to my feet. Before we could make it back to safety, the ghoul

dropped in front of us, cutting us off. Get to the front!" We heard Tiffany yell from behind the thing. We bolted as quick as we could. I felt the wind of the whip, and I heard its thunderous crack from inches away from my head as I rounded the first corner. I've never run like that in my life. Abby rounded the next corner first. I came tearing around it seconds later, only to find the fiend leaping off the roof landing on my girlfriend. I didn't think. I kept my momentum going and screamed at the top of my lungs as I barreled right into it. It felt like running headlong into a brick wall, but to my credit, we both rolled away from Abbey. I don't know if anyone else has thrown themselves at a decaying body. It's not something I would recommend.

The outside was squishy, disgusting, and stank of moldy cheese, but the base beneath that may as well have been a pylon. The only reason it moved away was the gold on my hand. It scrambled away from me, trying to regain its composure, while Abbey and I half crawled, half ran, towards the front door. We were so close. Tiffany threw open the door to let us in, But that thing, it moved with unnatural speed. It appeared on the porch and kicked the door closed. I heard it smack poor Tiffany in the nose. Abby and I plowed into the outside next.

Then a bony hand grabbed my shirt and effortlessly lifted me off my feet. I didn't have time to struggle. It hurled me onto the lawn. The wind got knocked from my lungs. A few seconds later, Abby was thrown. own on top of me, emptying my lungs again. I think she elbowed me in the head a second later as she tried to get back up. I was pretty out of it by then, so out of it, that all I really noticed was that Abby's hip was vibrating. Is that her phone? It must be midnight, I thought. Then I got

distracted again. I heard a friggin' horse. I finally shook myself out of my stupor and gazed back towards the road. A familiar coach sat at the end of my driveway. I watched a pale, almost luminous figure leap off of the driver's seat. I looked back at our attacker. He'd stopped his assault. He held his head so he could stare at the coach. Even in the dark, I saw its horrible grin begin to fade. The pale figure strolled up the driveway and stopped to bend over and lift me up and place me back on my feet. Abby gripped my arm. I glanced towards her and saw she was smiling. Before I could stop her, she said, Shaley, you're here. Help us. We'll pay. Shaley grinned and nodded, never taking her eyes off of the undead jerk.

Silently, she pointed towards my house. She didn't need to say anything. I knew what she meant. Abby and I bolted inside and spent the next ten minutes gasping for breath as we watched events unfold outside. Before anyone says it to me, I'm going to go ahead and admit that going outside was a really stupid thing to do, and I'm very, very sorry. I gasped as we glued ourselves to the window.

Abbey's only response was a light smack to the back of my head. Shaley and Jerkface stared each other down like a pair of cowboys about to duel. Despite standing a foot taller than her, without a head, Jerkface actually appeared worried. I was musing on this. When suddenly both of them moved, Jerkface raised his arm. to crack his whip at Shaley, who responded by ripping off her cloak and hurling it at him before darting away. The garment threw off his aim and distracted him. He finally tore it away and charged after her into the dark. You think she can beat him? Tiffany asked. I mean, she's not falling apart like he is,

Abby replied. True, but he's huge. Also, who is she? Is that Shaley? Yeah. Why is she helping us, I wonder. I told her we'd pay, Abby said. Wait, you told her you'd pay her what?

I don't know. Abby replied. The color drained from Tiffany's face. You agreed to something with a fay without knowing what it is. Yeah, we needed help. She just said it would be something precious. Abby, that could be anything. She might make you pay with your life or Jack's life.

Abby went pale then. As did I. The terrified silence hung in the air before it was shattered by the crack of whips somewhere in the distance. The two beings battle seemed to take them all over the neighborhood. We only caught glimpses of them in the darkened streets, a shadow here, the sounds of a whip or glass shattering there, and at one point a car alarm went off somewhere in the neighborhood. Guys? I asked after a tense 15 minutes. They both looked at me. I can't believe this is real. Maybe it was my head wound, but I was having some sort of existential crisis.

Ghost were hard enough to accept, but these two things, this is not the world I thought I was living in. We'll get through this. That was comforting, but it wasn't the point. Even if we do, they'll still be out there. It's really hard to accept that the world is far different than you think it is, actually slumped away from the front window and sat between Tina and Frank. This shit's crazy. I whispered to nobody in particular.

I got a response this time. The same sensation from the basement, just a feeling. Empathy, sorrow, and a new one, I can only describe it as the desire to fix. Imagine you just heard a passionate speech from a reformed inmate who planned to make up for all of their mistakes. Furthermore, imagine you aren't skeptical about how serious they are. If you can imagine that feeling, that's basically what I felt. Then, I suddenly knew what I had to do. I got up and ran to the other room, lighting the way with my phone. I grabbed the list of names we'd made of all the ghost in my house. I scanned through it. Some of them

were wrong, or at least spelled wrong. For some reason, I knew that mattered. I ran into the basement. I looked at every corpse until I was sure I had their name right. Abby and Tiffany screamed above me. Apparently jerkface had reappeared. I kept working. I heard whips cracking outside. I think I heard one of my windows break, but I ignored that. I had to be sure the names were right. Finally, I I was sure. I ran up the stairs. Jack, I think the rotting one is winning, Abby said fearfully. Have you seen Shaley? I replied. She's with her carriage right now. She looks hurt. I don't see jerk face. Abby, I 100% promise that I will not make a habit of charging into danger. I get it if you aren't okay with this. But there's something I have to do.

Once again, I sprinted out the front door, ignoring any cries of protest. I flung it closed behind me and bolted for the carriage. I used my phone's light to find Shaley. She was a mess. Her hair was wild. She had lots of bruises and two deep gashes, one on her arm and the other across her cheek. She was startled by me when I approached, and she almost attacked me. She had a whip made of a human spine, just like jerk faces.

I knelt down next to her and shoved the paper into her free hand. It's their names, I said. A small, almost mischievous smile appeared on her face. Next thing I knew, Shaley was on her feet. She leapt inhumanly high, landing on top of her carriage. I watched in horrified fascination as she casually pulled her own head right off her neck, her choker marked where it left. She held her own cranium, high above her shoulders, and some kind of transformation occurred.

Shealy looked human before, but now her pale flesh almost literally glowed. Her eyes turned black, and her face was her face. became a grin almost as wide and horrific as jerk faces. Looking upon her now, it was clear that whatever she was, it wasn't, and had never been human. And then she spoke, well, her severed head spoke. Her voice was like thunder. Franklin Chaplin. The sound was deafening. She paused for a few seconds before starting again. Tina Polowski. Another pause.

Justin Taylor. She kept going. She spoke a name. She paused. And she spoke another name. I watched her. It was hard to take my eyes away. Then I remembered. I shouldn't be watching. The Dalmahans attack people who watch, so I looked away. And I looked away. And And I found jerkface right behind me. How is something so big, so quiet? Whatever damage he'd done to Shaley, she'd given back to him threefold. The bones in his chest were cracked.

He seemed to be missing a leg, and the ratty leather he wore was even more shredded. He appeared to have lost his whip, but that gave him a free hand. He used it to reach out and grab my gold hand with an icy, cold grip. I was helpless. He raised his head with his other hand to point it at me and stare hatefully. He straight up bludgeoned me with his own severed head. I went out like a light. I was only dimly aware, but I could still hear Shaley's voice reading off names. A crushing weight came down on my chest. I opened my eyes and jerkface had his knee on me pinning me down. He raised his arm up. I could see triumph in his eye. He was going to kill me and punish me for ruining

whatever he was doing. But then a bloated pair of arms wrapped around that arm and yanked it back. In shock, Jerkface dropped his head. His body struggled against his assailant, but then another leapt on him. Then another. I squinted. Something didn't seem right. about the people jumping on him, they all looked rotted, like zombies. More arrived, and soon I couldn't see anything but a tangled mass of rotting flesh. Someone's arms reached under my own and dragged me away from the tangled mass. Soon, I was looking up at a cloudy night sky. I tried to look over at my savior and found another ghoul staring back. One, with a familiar head wound that made it look like half his head was gone.

I finally snapped myself out of my gaze and looked up. Frank gave me a nod. Then Tina, who crawled next to him, set her withered hand on my own before they both advanced towards the struggling pile of the dead. All of the bodies that had been lying, motionless in my house, were now attacking. It didn't matter how withered or broken they were. They crawled, shambled, and dragged themselves towards jerkface and swarmed over him. I looked up at Shaley. She'd finished her list. She spoke again. Your times came long ago, but first, take back what is yours.

The ghost redoubled their efforts and the headless revenant disappeared beneath their clawing rotten hands. I looked away. My head was throbbing from multiple blows. I wondered briefly if I had a concussion. When I looked back, the corpses were gone. In their place were very normal-looking people. A young man stepped towards me, smiling as he reached down and he helped me to my feet. I recognized him by his office where, sorry for the trouble. Thanks for your help. You're Frank? Yeah, I can't tell you much. He glanced up at the specter that was Shaley, who kept her head held aloft, watching things play out. I know you probably have a ton of questions. All I can tell you is that that thing captured a bunch of us after we died. It's been feeding on us. It's also been trying to force us to

have a party. I'm not sure what it thought we could do while, you know, dead. It wanted to have a party? I asked incredulously. Yeah, I don't get it either, man. So it went from party to party? Looking for dead people? Yeah. Like I say. I don't get it either. Frank replied. Did it have a horse and coach? Nah, I think that's not his job anymore. We were interrupted when Shaley cracked her whip. Well, hopefully this one isn't planning on abusing us too.

Time for us to go. Sorry for bum it in your house. It was the only place he couldn't find me. I guess I'll go. be dead now. I watched with a sentimental pang as Frank waved goodbye and stepped inside Shaley's coach. All of the ghost stopped to thank me before following him. Tina gave me a hug. You're a good man. Keep being good. My body's buried in the northern part of the park. I was killed by an obsessive stalker. They'll find all this.

evidence they need in Wesley Benson's trailer. I'll do what I can. Thanks for protecting Abby and I. I really hope you guys work out. You're super cute together. She kissed my cheek before hopping into the coach. Next came Justin. He shook my hand.

Thanks, man. I honestly don't know who killed me. I was attending a get together with friends. It grew into a party. I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to be on a business trip. I didn't want my wife to know I was a screw-up, but I never meant to leave her alone. They'll find me at the bottom of the lake. I'll see what I can do.

I'm sorry you died. One after another, they thanked me and stepped aboard. How they all fit in there is a mystery. I'll just assume it's a magic coach. When they were gone, I looked around for any sign of jerkface. His body had vanished. I did, however, see his head. It lay there on the ground, staring up at me.

The crack of a whip made me jump out of my skin when I looked at jerkface again. His remaining eye was gone. I looked up at Shaley, who still had a mischievous, demonic grin on her face. She spoke one more name. Once the name was spoken, she casually put her head back on her neck, and soon a relatively normal woman stood in place of the insidious being. She hopped off her coach and grabbed up the jerk's head by his stringy hair before tossing it unceremoniously into her coach. Then she turned, and stared at me. The clouds finally parted, and we got just enough moonlight to illuminate us. Even

in her human form, I found myself terrified of her. Will... Will they be safe? I asked. She answered with a shrug. Is it over? Abby called. Mostly. But we have to pay, I replied. Abbey and Tate. Tiffany arrived on either side of me. Abby handed Shaley, a pad of paper, and a pen. What do we owe you? I asked. The grin she gave us was downright sinister. She took the pad in paper and wrote something precious to you. I'm not giving you my girlfriend, I said. I honestly don't know if I was kidding around or not. She wouldn't take Abing, would she? Just to build on my anxiety, she put on an exaggerated pouty face, at least I hope it was exaggerated. She then scribbled,

not like that. Getting beat up made me cranky. I'm really glad I didn't let it get the best of me. I had a thought. I ran inside. It took a good five minutes to actually talk myself into it. When I came back outside, Tiffany raised an eyebrow at me, but Abby seemed to understand. Shaley. This is Godzilla. I held up my cheap old toy. He's been with me since grade school. When I was little, he saw many battles, and he always came out on top, but sometimes he needed help from my stuffed dog. He's seen me laugh. He's seen me laugh. He's seen me cry. He's seen me when my family fought. He's seen me when my family was at their happiest. I'll never forget him. He's precious to me. But you saved our lives. Is, is this what you

meant? Shaley had cocked her head, listening to me, introduce my cherished old friend. When I finished, she reached out to take him. I admit, I was slow to hand him over. She held the beat-up, faded old thing in her hands and closed her eyes. After a few seconds, a smile formed on her face. I recognized it. That was the same way I used to smile at him. She opened her eyes then and wrapped Godzilla in her arms in an affectionate hug, just like

I used to. She almost appeared to be laughing. She took him and set him on top of her carriage alongside the driver's seat before turning back to us. She handed Abby the notepad back and curtseyed before climbing onto her carriage. Payment accepted then, Tiffany asked. I think so. I'm going to try and take a picture. at least of the carriage. The second the words left Tiffany's mouth, a sudden splash of something warm and gooey hit her square in the upper body, splattering droplets all over us. Shaley, bucket in hand, wagged her finger at us. Then she sat down, grabbed up her reins, and rode away. As soon as she was out of sight, power to the neighborhood returned. That's when we realize the bucket of

fluid Shaley had thrown at us had been freaking blood. Tiffany wasn't thrilled. As far as spooky things go, that was it. It was over. Tiffany used my shower while Abby and I just sat together. According to her, she and Tiffany hadn't seen any dead people. They'd seen little lights that Tiffany called orbs come spilling down the hallway and straight through the front door. I could do was marvel at how much space my living room seems to have now that there aren't three adult corpses sprawled across it. The bloodstains are gone too. Police were all over the place the next day. Shaley's battle with jerkface caused all sorts of damage all over the neighborhood. Nobody found blood. Lucky for us. I told the cops, I thought I heard my plants being broken,

But I didn't see who did it. I had to lie about my head wound, too. I think they bought it. They'll likely have more questions at some point. There's a lot of speculation. Some people think they saw hooligans running around. Some say there was a horse. Many heard something like the crack of a whip. Oddly enough, nobody reported a thunderous voice calling out the names of dead people. The official police statement, his been that it was likely a group of teenage vandals. Thankfully, insurance is taking good care of me and everyone else in the neighborhood. My windows got fixed, and I got a generous bit of cash to replace any damaged goods.

Abby asked me how I felt about her moving in when her leases up. So whew! Yay us! Sadly for Tiffany, none of her recording devices picked up anything useful. The best she got was a sound clip of the whip-cracking. Any time either of the beings was there, the image just glitched. She says she isn't mad, though. Seeing it for herself was all she needed.

I think we'll have her over for dinner sometime. Like I said at the beginning, spare a thought for Shayley the Doolahan. I think she followed jerkface all the way from Europe. She saved a couple of random humans, and the only thing she asked for in return was a cheap Momeno to make her feel a little less lonely. I'm Jack, and I guess I see dead people, and occasionally the ones that collect dead people. I have to just live with that. I'm left with a lot of uncertainty and the dread that comes with wondering what else

is out there? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to keep ignoring the fact. that the hospital I work near now has a bunch of silent residents that spend the whole day just staring at me.