Posted in #Monday, #Monday Writing, General Writing, Monday Short Tale, Mondays

Monday Short Tale: A Failed Haunting

Hey, Ya’ll! 

A bump sounded above Jan’s head but she didn’t even blink.

Another bump sounded from the direction of the stairs and she simply shouted, “Cut it out!”

When yet another thump sounded, this time from dining room, Jan simply turned up the TV volume, never mind the fact she wasn’t actually watching it as involved in her current book as she was.

She never once considered it to be anything dangerous.  In her home, regardless of where it was, bumps and crashes in other rooms were simply a part of her life. 

Meanwhile, in the dining room resided one frustrated ghost. He was stewing over hte lamp he’d just shoved off the side table, ignoring the stare of the fluffy creature he’d heard be called Snowball. 

The ghost huffed in frustation. He’d been haunting this house for decades. For years, he’d successfully run the living out of his territory.

This new woman moved in six months ago and he’d yet to even get a jump of fright from her. He couldn’t understand it. Not even his scratches on the floor in the dark of the night woke her up. These furry creatures she’d brought with her could see him, though they weren’t any more scared than she was.

He actually hated them. Any time one of them was in the room with him, they would just stare at him with their unblinking eyes. Quite unnerving, really.

He had no idea what these were or why this woman would have these creatures with her. Beyond staring at him, he’d only seen them sleep for hours at a time, eat and drink out of a couple of bowls on the kitchen counter, bat balls and mice that smelled funny around the entire house and chase things that even he couldn’t see. They were completely unproductive, unlike the dogs previous living inhabitants had had. Those had been fun to play with.

Or so he thought.

That evening, pushed to the brink by his lack of reaction, he decided to move to one of his more dangerous antics. He usually saved this trick for when he was ready to get the living out of his house. It never got them out immediately but certainly started giving them the clue.

When the woman had gone to bed, in his bedroom no less, he floated up through the floor. Once he was certain she was asleep, which took her forever with the books she was always carrying around, he picked up his pickaxe. He swung for the footboard, certain this would scare her.

He jolted, nearly dropping the pickaxe, when a horrendous yowl sounded from the white fluffy creature in the bed. He’d thought it had been asleep as well. The woman sat up at the sound, flicking on a light, looking to see what had caused Princess to make such a horrible noise. He’d never heard such a noise.

When Jan didn’t see anything, she petted Princess on the head, figuring it was another no-see-them and laid back down. She shortly dozed back to sleep.

The ghost lifted his pickaxe once more, determined to get this woman to notice him.

But before he could bring it down, Princess launched herself off the bed and at his face. He dropped his pickaxe, the sharp weapon dissipating immediately. He struggled to grab this creature and get it off his face. He fell through the wall, the living creature remaining in the bedroom. He stumbled to a stop, holding his injured face. How did that creature manage to hurt him?! He figured he was in the clear, thinking that it was trapped in the room. He’d not only neglected to realize the bedroom door was open but had forgotten there was more than one of these creatures in this house. As he turned to go down the hall, he tripped and fell on his face. He rolled over and looked down in time to see the black one of these creatures launch itself at his face. He blocked the attack with his arms and shoved the creature away.

He yelped as he felt something slice him on one leg, drawing ecto-blood, then something slice him on the other. He looked down to see the two white ones, Snowball and Princess, snarling even as they continued scratching. He dropped hte black one, still hissing and swiping, on top of one of the white ones and scrambled to his feet. He jumped the balcony, floating easily down to the first floor, figuring he’d escape the creatures for a while. Try to haunt the woman again once the sun came up.

But he hadn’t calculated for the agility and cunning of these creatures. While the black one, called Midnight, launched itself off the balcony, landing on his head, claws tearing into his skull, the other two tore down the stairs.

Yelling in pain, he got the black one off his head and even as all three bit and tore at his legs, he ran for the front door, phasing through the door, leaving the creatures inside.

He disappeared into the night, never to be seen in that home again.

Jan never knew what had nearly happened to her that night, sleeping even through the hissing, yowling, bumps and crashes. 

After all, such noises in the night were normal when you live with cats.

 -Fin

©Paula Crofoot

As one that lives with cats, while I don’t hear these noises in the middle of the night, I do have hear them all the time any other time. Well, minus the yowling and hissing, my two get along pretty well 90% of the time. There’s a reason my figurines and other breakables are no longer on tables since I’m currently living in a rental with faux-wood floors in 80% of the house. 

What did you think? Comment below if you have cats. I’d love to hear your tales. 

I promise that later this week will be a post about not only my 2020 goals, my hopes for the coming decade but also to explain the future of Simply Paradise & Haven. I totally meant to do it this last week but I’m still working to get everything organized for the next year and get back into a working mentality after the long holiday period. As I mentioned, my holidays start at October 1st and continue until the new year. I’ve spent the last couple of months amongst the holidays coming up with plans for 2020 but I still need to outline them and figure out details to make them happen. So look for that post later this week along with this week’s writing prompts. Ya’ll love those posts and I enjoy doing them so those posts will definitely continue so long as I have prompts to give. 

‘Til Next Time! 

~Paula

 

The measure of who we are is what we do with what we have.

Author:

I am me. That's the first thing I've gotta say, I'm me. I haven't let anyone change me yet and I don't plan on it. I love writing more than anything but I also have multiple other hobbies: baking, crafting, music, gardening, hiking among others. I'm not most people versions of 'normal'. But if you ask me, one person's type of normal is likely someone else's version of crazy. So who are we to judge others?

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