Horror story

(set: $neutralClicks to 0) <audio autoplay loop> <source src="https://ovips.us.to/files/project/Song.mp3" type="audio/mpeg"> </audio> This house is all you have ever known. Its dark wallpaper, musty smell and creaky doors are your life. But you don't mind that, you are content here. It's your home after all. The leaky pipes and peeling wallpaper is all a part of its charm. A place where you can rest undisturbed forever. Or so you thought. You jolt awake to an unfamiliar noise. It sounds like a rumbling noise. It soon stops. Peace returns then. Two slams. It didn't last very long. These noises are not the familiar sounds of the house settling or pipes churning. Then a noise you had not heard before. A key turning. Something is not right. Then something you had dreaded hearing. Voices. Two distinct voices. A man and a woman. What do they want? They shouldn't be here. No one should be here. This is your home. It always has been. What do you do? [[Investigate?]] [[Close your eyes and hope that it stops…]]

You groan as you hear further chatter coming from the strangers who have seemingly make themselves at home downstairs. It’s been years since you’ve heard any signs of life in your space. People are typically too afraid to come here. No one can brave the house after the (link: "last incident")[(if: $neutralClicks < 3)[(set: $neutralClicks to it + 1)](if: $neutralClicks >= 3)[(goto: "Neutral Start")](else:)[last incident]]. You float down the long, winding corridor. The sight of the peeling wallpaper and shabby rug brings you immense comfort. This place is home. Your transparent fingers brush along the walls, scraping softly against the rotting wood. Small flakes fall onto the floor, leaving a breadcrumb trail wherever you drift to. The stairs creak as the banister tries to lean away from you. You phase downstairs, humming softly to the ambiance of the house surrounding you. Your eyes are assaulted as you gaze upon the couple interrupting your ghostly slumber. A young pair, grins splitting their faces as they gaze around your abode in wonder. You can see the glimmer of hope in both of their eyes as the two take in the surrounding space in all of its twisted, rotten glory. The sight of them turns what remains of your gaping stomach. You [[Reach out towards them, intent on forcing back through the doorway they entered from]] [[Reach behind them, slamming the door shut]]

You close your ghostly eyes, This will pass, Right? Nope the voices get louder. Surely they are just in your head, This is all some kind of bad dream. Yep! That must be it. There is no other explanation. Unless you are developing schizophrenia. No no, That wouldn't be it, your ghostly mind is far too strong for silly human mental issues. Now, to figure out how to escape this nightmare. [[Go to sleep and hope that when you wake up this will all be over.]] [[Bang your head off the wall to knock the schizophrenia out of yourself.]]

You lunge towards the couple, interrupting their incessant chatter. They can’t quite see you, you’re sure of this. You’ve spent enough time trying to stare at yourself in the mirror to know that side effect of your wretched existence. No, they can’t see you. But they can [[Hear you]] [[Feel you]]

The house shakes as you make your presence known. You force your fading fingers against the creaking frame surrounding the wood of what would have been a door and shove with all of your force. Your displeasure of having uninvited guests aids you in your fury, and the hinges scream out an unholy choir of noise, echoing your own yell. The couple jump away from the door, glancing back at one another in surprise at your small trick. Then, they begin to laugh. They begin to laugh so hard that they forget about any and all worries they had about this house. They discuss the plans they have as they walk further down your halls. The floorboards move in time with their footsteps, their feet changing ever so slightly the foundation of the house you had laid down in years past. The two talk about tearing down walls, replacing them with open plan furniture. Brightening up the place, they say. It looks like someone, or something, had died and picked the furniture out. Old-fashioned, they say. They can modernise it, they say. Revamp the whole thing, do it for less than half the cost of a modern house. The sound of their tinny voices warping your final resting place fuels the rage you had barely felt simmering beforehand. You feel a burning echoing upwards from the remainders of your soul. You need to do something now. If they like this house so much, they can stay in it. You leave the couple as they chatter away in the living room. They continue on, oblivious, discussing the many ways in which they can further strip you of all that reminds you of yourself. You haven’t thought about you in a long time. Hearing them go on as if you never even existed (link: "Hurts you")[(if: $neutralClicks < 3)[(set: $neutralClicks to it + 1)](if: $neutralClicks >= 3)[(goto: "Neutral Start")](else:)[(goto: "Hurts you")]] [[Enrages you]]

You feel an overwhelming emotion crash over you as you glide your way into what was once before your front guest room. You aren’t quite sure which emotion it is. After all, it has been so very long since you last felt one. So very long since anyone has been around in order to make you feel one. You glance around the empty room. There are spots of mismatched paint torn on the walls. The empty space where paintings used to hang. You remember long days sat by the crumbling fireplace, painting, eating and smoking. The place so full of joy and life. Days gone for so long you struggle to even remember that they existed in the first place. You fall out of that room, back into the main hall. You cannot bear to face that room anymore. You find yourself backing out of the hall slowly, slowly gliding your way into [[The dining room]] [[The bathroom]] [[The drawing room]]

You feel an anger awaken inside you. This is the first time in a long, long time that you’ve felt such a vivid emotion such as this. You feel awake, more so than you have in years, decades even. This is your house. And it will not be taken from you so easily. You muster up all the rage you have within you, feeling it flicker stronger and stronger with each sharp word emerging from the mouths of these entitled strangers. You feel warm You feel angry You feel vindicated. You gaze at the man, hearing his nonsense tumble in and out of your non-ears, burning like an acid through your mind. Your very existence shakes with fury at the thought of them taking apart your house Your existence. You focus your anger into your arms, into your being. You let out a loud wail and crash into him. He stumbles forward as the weight of your semi-corporeal arms wrap around his neck. The woman lunges backwards, yelling. He tries to yell. He fails. You pull tighter She yells He lunges He fails She runs, faster and faster, leaving everything behind He scrambles at your arms He finds nothing to hold You pull tighter He struggles You pull tighter He breathes out You pull tighter He stops. He doesn’t move again. You let him go. You move upstairs. Eventually, you hear the chatter of more people. You are too drained to go downstairs. You have nothing left. There are flashing lights outside. Red, blue, red, blue again. You hear the crack of photos being taken. Photos with a real camera. You hear crying. Crying from a being that isn’t you. You hear murmurs about ghosts, and hauntings, and renovations. You hear talk about reservations, and fear, and hallucinations. You hear claims about murder, and sabotage, and the undead. You hear the woman leave. You hear the police officers leave. You still hear crying. Time passes. You’re not sure how much. It never seems to matter-the time passes anyway whether you’re paying attention or not. You hear crying from a being that isn’t you. It hasn’t stopped. Eventually you look up. You see him. The man. He sits there, staring at you and sobbing. He won’t stop sobbing. [[He asks what happened to him.]] [[He asks why you killed him.]] [[He asks what happens now.]]

As you float inside, your mind is warped with visions of what once was. You see a barren chandelier hung limply from a crooked pole. You think back to when it was in its glory, a shimmering beast standing proudly from the roof. You look at it now in its pitiful state. Such a tall, proud beacon, reduced to nothing but cobwebs and cracked glass. It reminds you much of yourself. A husk of a being, doomed to haunt a house no one even cares for. These haunted walls are all you know, and all you’ve ever known. You feel an overwhelming numbness wash over your incorporeal form. You know that there is nothing left for you to do here. You remember nothing, and you will continue to be nothing so long as you remain. [[Shake it off]] [[Give up]]

You pace into the drawing room, your ghostly steps making a mockery of what once used to be pitter-pattering of corporeal footfall. You take each step into the room slowly, gliding in as you once did. This room is unrecognisable. You once had stands of cards in one corner. A cello and a violin in the other, each balanced carefully upon their stands, should the need to strum a tune strike anyone in the house suddenly. Your wardrobes, your side chairs, your drawing table. Everything has rotted away. Even you have rotted away. You would take a long breath in if your form were still capable of doing so. This room was once as much of a home to you as the rest of the house was. This was your space. You look in between the creaking, gaping floorboards. You can see the rickety foundations of the house, shaking beneath your non-weight. You know that if this house falls, you fall with it. [[End it]] [[Give up]]

You embrace the numbness overwhelming you. This is what it means to be you. This is the cost of your unholy survival. Despite all odds, you remain. And you know that you have one job left to do; defend your house. [[You make your way solemnly back into the hall.|Hurts you]]

You know that there is nothing left for you here. This numbness, this wretched existence, being tied to nothing and no one, is the cost of your unholy survival. A survival which you never asked for. A survival you no longer want. You glide your way along the floor, into the centre of the dining room. You lay down where the chandelier once fell, and you begin to weep. You weep, and weep, and weep. You weep until the new owners of the house can no longer take it. You weep until nothing remains of you but your sorrow. You weep until nothing remains of the house around you but ash and rotten wood. You weep until after your sorrow is gone. You weep until you are gone. [[Start over|Start]].

You let the memory fade through you, as everything else in this non-existence does. It flitters through your hollow mind as you take a long, sweeping look around the tattered room. A room which once brought you so much comfort, now reduced to nothing but piles of rubble and broken ceramic. You groan out a loud wail. You hear the couple downstairs make a comment about the nasty draught of wind caught in the house. You hear them make plans to install fans, and vents and large windows, windows so large you’ll be able to see nothing but the outside world. Your will sharpens, and [[you make your way back into the hall.|Hurts you]]

You know that there is nothing left for you to do but this. You glide down, further and further, falling underneath the foundations of the house you belong in. A house you once loved. A house that became your eternal prison. But no longer. You focus all your remaining strength into your hands. You reach out for the final time, your arms outstretched, and you grab onto the beam ahead of you. You let out one last ghostly cry. You cry for everything you lost, everything you no longer remember. Everything that you could have been. Everything that you’ll never get to be again. And your hands touch the wood in front of you. Your hands, touching something. You smile. You cry. You push. You hear a snap as the beam falls with you As the house falls with you As the couple fall with you And then And then And then [[And then|Give up]]

You tell him you killed him. You tell him he stole your house. He wanted to destroy it. You say that you destroyed him before he could destroy the house. You tell him that you both lose, in the end. He stares blankly back at you, his eyes welled up with tears. He remembers. He stares silently at you as his tears begin to fall. He stares at you until the foundations of the house rot away underneath you. He stares at you as you lose the strength to stare back. He stares at you until time itself fades away. He stares at you He stares. [[Start over|Start]].

You tell him of your existence. Of your confusing, unwinding existence. You tell him about how you are the being of this house, and this house is who you are. You tell him with the changes of this house, you change too. You tell him that there is nothing left of you once this house goes. He looks at you, bewildered. He tells you of his existence. He tells you of his wife, and how this was their life project. How they wanted nothing more than to restore this house to its former glory. How he had heard the tale of how the previous owner had died and You cut him off there. You don’t want to hear that story. That story makes you lose yourself more and more. He accepts that. He tells you about his wife, about his hopes for the future. He tells you how they’re going to a carnival next week. He tells you about the dress she’s wearing to his sister’s baby shower. He tells you menial, trivial details. You ask him why he’s telling you this. He tells you so he won’t forget. You know he will. He tells you again and again. He tells you so many times it’s all you can remember. He tells you again and again until he starts to forget He tells you about the dress she’s wearing to the carnival He tells you about his sister’s house He tells you about everything that is not him, and never was, and never will be. He tells you until you forget he is there. He tells you again and again and again. He tells you [[Start over|Start]].

You remember being where he is. You don’t remember getting any help with it. You ignore him. You have nothing left to say to him. You have nothing left to do. He beings to wail. He wails until you can’t hear him anymore. He wails until the walls around the both of you fall. He wails until there is nothing left of him He wails until there is nothing left of you He wails until there is nothing at all [[Start over|Start]].

The man looks up as the decaying floorboards creak underneath your lack of weight. The pitter-patter of your spectral feet storm towards them. He grabs his partner and pulls her towards him, out of your direct path. You’re unable to slow your pace and you slam into the door. The hinges squeal underneath your false pressure. The two look over at you, seeing directly through your existence. They mutter incoherently to one another making sure the other is okay. They talk about the house, and how old is it. How very, very old it is. [[You know how old the house is. You remember it being built.|Neutral Start]] You glare at the two, seemingly unshaken by your display of existence. If they won’t listen, then they’ll just have to [[FEEL|Feel you]].

You sway forwards, both of your ghastly arms outreaching towards the pair. The woman looks up as she feels the air shift around your ghostly form. You watch the hair on the back of their neck raise as your pale hand creeps across their faces, gently at first. They begin to mutter to each other, one asking the other if they feel the breeze, wondering if there’s a door or a window that has been left open. You swing harder-your hand impacts weightlessly across the man’s face. He’s moved backwards, a cold impression left lingering across his cheeks. He pauses after his stumbling, granting you the chance to swing once again. You push forward, ignoring the cries of his partner reaching out to him. He stumbles back again and again. The man is swinging his hands across the front of his face, as if to bat off a pesky fly. His corporeal limbs do nothing to stay you. You are unstoppable, if you so choose to be. You…. [[Keep pushing]] [[Back off]]

You keep floating back to him, swinging again and again. You are desperate to have some connection, any connection of form. The woman leaves. You ignore her. He tries to chase after her, longing to get away from the unseen terror pursuing him. You can’t let that happen. You glide your way around him as his arms desperately claw at the empty air in front of him. He begins to shout. He curses whatever being is attacking him. He swears that he will have his revenge and that he will get you banished. He promises he knows people who can make it happen. You don’t believe him for a second. If there were anyone who could strip you from this wretched place, they would have done so already. You’ve seen the people who come in, claiming to be exorcists, or priests, or shadow-workers. No one has succeeded. You doubt they will now. He turns around, facing towards you. He cannot see you, but he can see the open door. He yells at the woman. He asks what she thinks she’s doing. She yells back that this is great content. You dislike the fact that she’s amused. You’ll give her something to be amused about. You lunge forward, tackling the man from where he’s stood idly in your way. He falls underneath the weight of your lack of a body. He struggles to get up once more. You [[Choke him]] [[Posess him]]

You take a few steps back, leaving him alone. He turns to the woman, and she chastises him. She asks if he thinks this is all a joke. He shakes his head and tells her it wasn’t him. It must’ve been the ghost. She stares at him for a moment. Another moment passes, and he begins to laugh. She hits him lightly on the chest. You hate this display. You leave the hallway where the two of them are standing, and make your way back to the attic. At least there you don’t have to hear their muttering and mumbling like a drill in your ears. As you glide upwards, towards your husk of a bedroom, you notice a small box peeking out of the corner. [[Check it]] [[Continue on]]

You lean forward, placing your being onto his chest. His breathing gets tight as his ribs feel the unseen pressure of you on top of him. He begins to yell for his wife. She is yelling at him, telling him to get up. He will not be getting up any time soon. You lean even further forward until all you can feel in the surrounding area is his soul, lying directly beside what remains of yours. He is so full of life. You’re so envious of that. You reach even further forward, covering his entire being with yours. He gasps out as your cold unexistance wraps itself around his form. He tries to speak. You stop him. He thrashes around you. She screams from behind you. You ignore her. He tries to scream. You stop him. He tries to fight back, but it’s hard to fight something that isn’t real. You make him stop moving. You make him sit up. The woman calls his name. She asks if he’s alright. You try to make him nod, but his head rolls to one side. His weight is an uncontrollable, clunky force on you. You haven’t held anything real in months, years, decades. You try again. His head rolls forward, then back again, then forward. She asks him if he’s feeling unwell. You try to make him speak. Your voice gargles out in his mouth, incomprehensible. She runs closer to him and wraps her arms around him. She tells him that she’s bringing him to a hospital. She tells him that she knew this was a bad idea. You make him wrap his arms around her. His arms flail as you do so, jerky and uncoordinated. She picks him up. She asks if he can get to the car. You try to make him speak. You fail again. He gargles out nonsense noise. She drags him towards the car, placing him into the passenger seat. You haven’t set foot outside your house in so long, in too long. You have never managed to get this far on your own. She turns the key in the ignition. She tells you not to worry, that she’ll get everything fixed up soon. Your house fades in the distance as she drives out of the garden, down the long overgrown path that you haven’t seen. She tells you that you’re never going back to that house. She tells you that it’s haunted, and that you both never should have gone there. You smile at her. You make him smile at her. You are never going back there. You are free. [[Start over|Start]].

The sound of anguish coming from her voice puts hesitation into your grip. You loosen the hold you have on his throat. He takes in a gasp of air, but remains still; unmoving, unconscious. The woman reaches around you, dropping to her knees beside his head. She’s crying. You don’t remember what it feels like to cry. She holds him gently as she speaks to someone on the phone, frantic. His face turns a pale cream. You notice him shifting slightly. She doesn’t. You watch. You hear the scraping of wheels outside, and the flickering of multicoloured lights. Red, blue, repeat. You watch. People rush inwards, and take in the scene. You step off of his body as he is placed on a stretcher. She cries as she is questioned. You watch. She can’t quite explain to anyone what happened. She tries, and tries, but no one listens. You explain. You tell them all about what happened. You tell them that you’re the being they’re looking for. They don’t hear you. You watch. He is taken away in a van. She is taken away in a different car. You watch. You watch until there is nothing left to watch. No one disturbs you again. You watch. [[Start over|Start]].

You ignore the voice. You push more. You hear the starting of a car outside. You ignore it. You push more. Your hands fade back into view as they become covered with something. You ignore it. You push more You push more And more And more And- [[Start over|Start]].

As you push your way over the crumbling threshold of what used to be a grand door, you find yourself stopping in the centre of the room. To your right there is a small, shattered mirror. A mirror which does not hang to show your reflection anymore. Or, rather, you don’t have a reflection to reflect anymore. You think back to when you would stay in here for hours on end. You picture long drawn out baths lit by candlelight. You remember warm teas, and old books placed alongside the bath table. You remember something else, tugging at the corners of your blurry mind. (link: "Think harder")[(if: $neutralClicks < 3)[(set: $neutralClicks to it + 1)](if: $neutralClicks >= 3)[(goto: "Neutral Start")](else:)[Think harder]] [[Leave]]

You waltz towards the box. You don’t know when or how it got here. You haven’t been here for a long, long time. You look placidly through the belongings in the box. Most of them look like discarded items from the last couple who tried to move in. You made quick work of them. You happen across a book in the box. A purple book, with inscriptions on it you can’t quite read. You haven’t been able to read in a long time. [[Read the book]] [[Put it back|Continue on]]

You ignore the box. You are too tired to care. You have been around so long. Once this house goes, you go with it. And the house does go. You stay in the attic as the workers arrive. You make no move to stop them. You hear hammers pounding in your head as they tear down wall after wall. You feel your mind slip further and further away as you lose pieces of the house Pieces of yourself Over and over again. You make no move to stop the painters tearing down the old wallpaper. They tear a bit of your soul out with them, Tearing Tearing Tearing more and more. You don’t have the energy to stop anyone anymore. You don’t even have the energy to be. You remember nothing You are nothing You will be nothing again. [[Start over|Start]].

You open the book. Its pages flick to a page of its choice. On the page there is a large, sprawling symbol. This symbol is repeated again and again. You move to another page. The symbol is there. You check again. The symbol is on every page. You can’t remember this symbol being in the book beforehand. You don’t remember much at all, these days. You feel your eyes looking on the symbol, transfixed. Your vision sharpens, and you see words encircling the symbol on the page. You read them out loud. Each word comes out like a whisper in your mind, a warm hug, a fresh breeze. Reading these words feels right. You feel right at home. You feel yourself leaning into the book more and more. Your vision darkens. All you can see is the book. You begin to understand as you read further. A banishment spell. That is what they tried to do to you. Before you got rid of them. You read on. It asks for your name. You tell it you don’t have one. It takes it anyway. You read on. It asks for your soul. You tell it you don’t have much left. It takes it anyway. You read on. It asks for your hand. You tell it you can’t see it. It holds it anyway. You can’t read on. You aren’t there anymore. You are free. [[Start over|Start]].

You drift off to sleep. When you wake, the wonderful darkness of night has returned to the world and the voices have stopped. What a night to be a ghost. It's time for your nightly roam of the house. You walk out of the room and into the upstairs hall. You admire the wonderfully bleak wallpaper and dusty rug. This really is paradise… No, there it is again, Those voices. Quieter this time. The clanking of metal. It's coming from downstairs. You carefully float down the stairs. Then you sit a true horror on the eyes. A young couple sitting at a table eating a microwavable meal. You don't know what disgusts you more. The fact that a couple have seemingly moved into your humble abode or that they are eating a microwavable meal. You hate microwaves. Air fryers are clearly superior in every way. They are laughing with each other. You stand in front of the table. “Ehem-” You cough to get their attention. But they ignore you. How dare they. You shout. “Hey, Leave my house.” They continue to laugh and eat their meal. Could it be? They can't see you. You take out your trusty ghost rule book. You skim through the 765 pages and finally find you. Ghosts are invisible to all regular humans. Curses. These guys really know how to grind your gears. [[Start over|Start]].

You go over to the nearest wall and attempt to mash your head off it. Unfortunately you are a ghost so you phase straight through it. You fall into the bathtub causing the sink and shower to turn on. Suddenly the voices start to get louder. “Is the sink on?” The girl asks. Suddenly, the man opens the door to the bathroom. Both of them look around. They can’t see you. Obviously you are a ghost! Why are they here? What do they want? “The guests would not like a leaky sink.” The man says, laughing. Guests, what does he mean guests? You follow the two down the stairs and into the hall. Boxes. So many boxes. Why are they doing this? You continue to stalk them for most of the day. They unpack. And even take down some of your favourite wallpaper. How rude of them to do this in your house. You need to sort this out. [[Keep following and find out their true intentions.]] [[Find a way to scare them.|Keep following and find out their true intentions.]]

It gets late and the couple finish up what they are doing around the house and head upstairs. You follow them as they enter the bedroom above their bed is a ceiling fan. Interesting, you can definitely use this. As they lay in the bed you look around and attempt to find the switch. You find a switch next to the bed. As you attempt to press the switch your hand phases through it. Ugh the struggles of being a ghost. You try again, and again and again. Its not working. What to do, what to do…. Aha, to your trusty ghost rule book. You take it out and skim the pages looking for something that might help. Possensions, That's it. You can possess the fan and cause it to spin uncontrollable. Wow you really are a genius. You aim your hands at the fan as shown in the book and suddenly it begins to move. The couple look up at it. Amazing they are finally noticing you. They look at each other. “Jeez I think this place might be haunted” The man says smiling at his wife. She laughs. “Yeah we can fix the power tomorrow.” She responds before turning over to go to sleep. WHAT?! They don't care. In fact they find it funny. You throw a tantrum as the couple sleeps peacefully beside you. The next morning the couple continue to deface your precious home. Your trusty book must have something in here that you can do. You scroll through it during the night by morning. By daybreak you find two pages that stick out to you. [[Summon a helpful minion.]] [[Attempt to exorcise the intruders.]]

You flick to the page showing a strange little gremlin looking creature. You quickly cite the symbols carved into the page and suddenly the room you are in lights up in red. Suddenly before you a little green frog looking creature appears. “Um hey.” it says to you. “Hi” You responded. There is a hint of awkwardness in the air. “You summoned me?” It says casually. “Yeah.Actually there are these people who, ummm, moved into- my house.” You say to the green guy. It leans back and lets out a long sigh. “...Right, Ok ok.” It takes out a pen and taps it against its chin while in thought. It lets out another sigh. “Umm…. Yeah, Yeah. Pfft.” It looks at you. “Thats not good” You feel impatient with the creature. “So what can you do?” You ask. “Yeah, not much to be honest” it says. You feel anger in you again. “Why not?” You ask with a temper. “Well you see if they legally own the deeds of the house or get a mortgage or something, then legally we can't do much” It says flatly, chewing slightly on the end of its pen. “What about illegally?” You ask desperately. “Well I can advise on illegal matters, Anyways your time is up goodbye.” The green man opens up one of the floorboards and jumps in. [[Will you continue to terrorise these people…|Neutral Start]] [[Will you accept your new housemates...]]

You flick to the page showing the exorcism ritual. You partly remember it from the last time you had to rid the house of an unwanted guest, A ghost named Davey had briefly interrupted your peace a few years ago by turning the house into a casino for the dead. It was quickly shut down after the council of goblins attempted to audit the entire establishment. Davey had asked you to exercise him so he could escape his court hearing. You happily obliged. This time would be different since there are two people to be sent back to the darkest pit of ghostland. You go downstairs to see them tearing down some more of your amazing wallpaper. You feel the hatred burning inside of you. You plant your book firmly on the floor and start to chant the rhyme to begin the exorcism. The walls begin to shake and rattle. “Whats happening James?”, the girl says to her husband. “I don’t know, Claire" He responds. Suddenly the power from the book reaches its peak and begins to pull at- the wallpaper?” All the wallpaper is ripped straight from the wall and pulled into the vortex hovering above the book. The couple looked in shock as their job was just done for them. “James… This place is definitely haunted, but it just did our job for us.” Claire smiles. “Thank you, Ghost,” James says, giving a hearty chuckle. How could this be, You have tried and failed repeatedly to try and get these nasty humans out of your house. They have only been here a day and they have already ruined your life. It's time to make a decision. [[Will you continue to terrorise these people…|Neutral Start]] [[Will you accept your new housemates...]]

You pace up and down the hall… There doesn't seem there is anything in your powerset that can banish these people. They either brush it off or laugh it off. I guess if you can't beat them, join them. You listen in to their conversations for a while. “When do you think we will list it on AirBnb”. That's it!. If this Airbnb is anything like MareBnB, A ghostly marketplace for temporary accommodation in the ghost world then they must be looking to put this house up… That means more annoyances. No, You are turning over a new leaf, you won’t let this deter you. You are going to accept them. Now as any good host would, you should introduce yourself properly. You find a piece of paper laying around. You attempt to write on it but trying to hold a pen as a ghost is harder than you remember. Eventually you manage to scribble something out. “Helo my nam es mr gost and i hep u with house ok” You pick up the piece of paper and hold it out in front of you. The woman Claire, turns around and gasps at the sight of the paper. “Um James,” she says. “I think the ghost is trying to speak to us”. James walks over to the note. “Hmm” He reads it. “Yeah well we are definitely haunted, Thanks for introducing yourself Mr Ghost” They pick up some boxes and move them into the dining room. You can't do much to help , similarly to how you couldn't do much to hurt. Now the question is what do you do now? ''Ding Dong''. The doorbell rings. The humans don't react, must be the spectral door bell. You approach the door and open it. There stands another ghost, He is wearing a lavender suit and red tie. “Hey there, Mr Ghost. I see you haven't paid your property tax.” [[Punch him]] [[Reason with him]]

You feel the memory of something pulling its way to the forefront of your missing mind. You know you have forgotten it before. You do not want to forget again. You think as hard as you can. You don’t remember when thinking became difficult. Was it decades ago? Or centuries, at this point. You’re not sure. You remember how you came into being. It hurts you to remember. It has hurt you to remember for as long as you have been. At the beginning, there was pain. A bright, blinding flash of pain, directly to the back of your temple. But before that. [[Before that.]]

“I know I haven't paid for it but a new opportunity has arisen” You gesture to the folks behind you. “These people are setting up an AirBNB for this very house and it has given me the idea to set it up for MareBnB, Both Ghosts and Humans can stay here as they please.” You tell the agent. “I see, and you will be given a percentage of the earnings?” He asks as he inspects the interior of the manor. “Sure” You say reluctantly. “Very well, work away” He leaves satisfied. You go to your room upstairs and begin to set up the house on MareBnB on your ghostly laptop. You set up the house and its rules. “No Goblins” is listed first and foremost. You can't have any of them showing up again. Over the next few days your human associates sort out the house and you begin to get your first visitors. Both Ghosts, Ghouls and Humans. You watch as the house begins to rocket up the charts on both AirBNB and MareBNB. YOu fancy yourself quite a good host. The human guests love the haunted vibe the house has and the ghosts are really enjoying getting to view human culture during their stay. You are making a very good income off the place even though 15% is going to a random government agent. You feel satisfied. Maybe these people moving into your home was actually the best thing to ever happen to you.

You ball your fist and punch him in the jaw. “Woah you wanna fight motherfucker?” He asks, rolling up his sleeves. He hits you back. It knocks out one of your teeth. You get into a fighting stance. “How is this for property tax” You yell before hitting him kicking him in his knee. He falls backwards and you seize this opportunity to jump on him. He blasts you off of him and flees the premises. You go back inside to see James painting the walls, He is painting them cream, Not ideal but it could have been anything else so you are happy enough with this. Over the next few hours and days you watch as the dreary house you live in becomes quite bright and lively. You can't really help them but you can observe. As you watch them laughing and spending time together you can help but actually start to like them. Maybe this isn't so bad after all… Suddenly in the middle of the night you hear the spectral doorbell ringing. You go down to investigate. As you open the door you see 43 angry goblins scattered around the front driveway. A bag is placed above your head. Everything goes dark and you feel yourself being loaded into the back of a van. After a very bumpy and uncomfortable ride the doors of the van opens and the bag is ripped off your head. You find yourself in the Ghost World in front of the main court. The department of post mortem justice. You are dragged into a courtroom. “You stand before the honourable judge Bill, You are being charged with abuse of a government agent and refusal to pay taxes. How do you plead?” [[Guilty]] [[Innocent]]

You plead guilty. “Excellent , We sentence you to six centuries of labour in the spectral mines. Take him away” The bag is placed above your head and you are sent to the spectral mines where you live out the rest of your days. [[Start over|Start]].

You plead Innocent. “Interesting…… Anyways we sentence you to six centuries of labour in the spectral mines. Take him away” The bag is placed above your head again and you are sent to the spectral mines where you live out the rest of your days. [[Start over|Start]].

Before everything, there was warmth. And love. And light. Before everything, you had a house. A family. Long, drawn out baths. Rose petals in the water. Fantastical feasts with food you can only dream of seeing now. Hours and hours of leisure, of luxury. Ended by one misfortunate strike. Ended by one quick blow in a fit of anger. Ended with you, stuck here, solemnly. Ended with you trapped here for eternity. But no more. You see the memories laid out before you. You remember what it was like to see, taste, feel. You remember what it was like to be alive. But you are no longer alive. And it is about time you got to rest. The End. [[Start over|Start]].