Karen strode towards the door of her tenant's flat with the sort of determined gait that brooked no nonsense, while I, her trusty lawyer, followed in tow. In my humble opinion, I'd say I was a wise and learned individual who was always ready to offer counsel and guidance - In exchange for his fair share, of course. As over the time Karen had become one of my most reliable returning customer, to the point I was certain we had promoted each others number to our speeddials.

We were on a mission. There were at least three extra bodies milling about in the tenant's flat, and they were most certainly not on the lease. And thus we were determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, and I wasn't about to let a mere tenant stand in her way.

Karen banged on the door with a great deal of ire, and after a moment or two it creaked open to reveal a sleepy tenant, still in his robe and slippers. She drew herself up to her full height and began to give the tenant a proper dressing down, telling him in no uncertain terms, though civilizedly dubious, that the unit was exceeding capacity and that the extra people had to go.

However, as Karen was really getting into her stride, the tenant interrupted her. "You can see them too?" he asked, his expression of befuddlement.

I stepped forward, ready to offer my legal expertise, perphaps to help the fellow out sorting his confusion. "This is a clear violation of the lease agreement," I declared with authority. "The tenant is liable for any damages or consequences that may arise from ovecrowding. I advise you to rectify the situation immediately or face legal charges. Additionally, my client expects to be reimbursed for any extra utilities the three extra bodies may have consumed."

But the old man acted like I was chirping nonesense like a sparrow, and started flapping his hand at me as if to shush me up. ''Tell me, how do they look?''

The tenant's response caught me off guard. I blinked in surprise, taken aback by his nonchalant demeanor. "Excuse me?" I asked, not quite sure I'd heard him correctly.

Karen though, was not about to be as polite as I. However before she could unleash her fury the tenant repeated his question, "How do they look? Are they transparent, ghostly, or anything of the sort?"

I glanced at Karen, who was similarly bewildered. "What are you asking?" she said slowly, taking a deep breathe to regain composure, trying to gauge the man's state of mind. "The issue here is not how they look like."

''Child!'', the tenant raised his tone of voice, ''if they are not transparent to you then you have a much bigger problem than 3 extra freeloaders.''

"You can see them too?" Candace said, with a slight gasp.

Gary blinked. That was a new one. Much more common were excuses like "But they're only staying for a few days!" -- even though Gary didn't bother enforcing a lease's occupancy rules unless his tenant had already had guests staying for more than two weeks.

"You haven't exactly been subtle about it Cand--" he began, but the short blonde woman brought him up short by grabbing his hand.

"Come inside!" she said, excitedly, tugging his arm. He frowned, but allowed himself to be led forward. He'd seen so many of her guests coming and going that he was getting worried about the condition of her unit, and now was as good a time as any to see what the damage was.

The apartment actually didn't too bad, all things considered. That didn't change the fact that she was violating her lease by having all these guests. One of which, he noticed, was standing at the kitchen counter, chopping something with a knife. The woman looked a lot like Candace -- a sister, he guessed.

"Candace, you know the policy on people staying here if they're not on the lease--" he began, but she cut him off again, shaking her head vigorously.

"Gary, I don't have any guests!" she said, excitedly, sounding almost manic. She jerked a thumb at the other woman. "She does!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. Was she...on something? "Look, your name is on the lease -- that means that legally you're the only one allowed to stay here, and you're responsible for keeping it that way!"

"Tell her to go, then." Candace said, with a shrug.

He scowled. Now she was just being childish. Nonetheless, he turned to address her sister. "Ma'am, I don't know what Candace has told you, but she can't have people staying here long term. You and whoever else you brought with you need to go."

The woman just kept chopping.

Candace smirked. "Not so easy, huh? Here, let me try to get her attention for you."

Candace walked behind the counter and over to the stove, where she picked up a frying pan. Before Gary could stop her, she swung it at the other woman's head.

He started to shout at her to stop, but his cry died on his lips as the pan passed right through Candace's sister, then did so several more times as Candace fanned it through the air where the woman stood.

"W-what the..." he stammered, eyes bulging as Candace thoroughly demonstrated the immateriality of her houseguest.

She tested the pan on her shoulder. "See?"

Gary's shuddered, staring at the apparition, "H-how is that...how are you doing that?"

She laughed, incredulously . "I'm not doing anything! Uo until five minutes ago, I thought I was going insane."

"So...so ghosts are real." he said, with an air of resignation. He already had enough on his plate without adding ghosts into it. Oddly, he found himself wondering if this was a maintenance issue as per Candace lease -- did he have to hire ghostbusters, or was it her responsibility?

"I thought that too, at first. But nah, I don't think so." she mused, setting down the pan, and gesturing to the incorporeal woman. "For one thing, I don't have any sisters, dead or otherwise, and my mom and grandma are both alive."

"Maybe...maybe like your great grandmother, or something? Somebody that, you know, died young?" he offered, uneasily.

"Hm...maybe, but in a pair of jeans and a tank top, though?" she pointed out. "That's not how women dressed, way back when. I don't understand how, but I think she looks like me because she is me, like some kind of...I dunno, other me."

Gary hesitantly stepped closer, eyeing the apparition cautiously. Now that he was close, he could see she was chopping at nothing.

"So this...other Candace, she can't see or hear us?"

"Nope. None of them can, as far as I can tell." she said.

They both jumped as the woman suddenly looked up at them, and Candace let out a startled squeak. But the woman seemed to be looking past them. She set down the knife, and the utensil vanished, as she walked around the counter towards the door.

"Crap," Candace breathed, letting out a sigh, as they watched her walk past, and open the door. But behind the door was another door, which remained close, and the door she opened vanished as she removed her hand from the knob. "Always scares the bejeezus outta me when they do that."

"Why are there two doors?" Gary groaned. This was getting worse by the minute.

"One for us, one for them, maybe?" Candace said. "I think we can only see ghost-stuff when there's a ghost touching it."

"I thought you said they weren't ghosts?" Gary pointed.

"I meant not like dead-people ghosts." she said, uncertainly. "But they're people who you can see but aren't really there, so it still fits, more or less."

Gary watched the Other-Candace mutely talking to the closed door, and frowned, curiously.

"Who's she talking to?"

"Another ghost, I'd assume. We can't see them because the door -- the real door -- is in the way, I guess." Candace replied.

Cautiously, Gary stepped forward, and reaching past Other-Candace, he opened the apartment door.

Gary froze, his eyes widening as he saw the apparition she was speaking to. A tired-looking woman with auburn hair, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, was talking animatedly to Other-Candace, though he of course couldn't hear what she was saying.

Candace frowned. "Huh. I haven't seen her before. Not one of other-me"s guests. I wonder who she is?"

"That's...that's my wife." Gary replied, hoarsely. "She died last year."

Martha's husband used to deal with the rentals, and she liked it much better that way. But since he had so unfairly died before she did, it was now her responsibility to tend to both the properties and the tenants.

Now, Martha had always known that she isn't exactly "good with people." She had been told by everyone that ever knew her that she was difficult, abrasive, and overall unfriendly. This last descriptive marker made her feel more proud than she let on. You see, Martha has always enjoyed arguments and overall unpleasant conversations. They make her feel a light inside her soul, like a warrior on a battlefield, two arrows stuck in them raising their sword for the final kill.

It thrilled her, the art of the argument. But, when having to conduct herself in a more professional setting Martha had always let her rabid-dog-like conversational skills run in full capacity and it had resulted in multiple firings and a few annoying court proceedings afterwards.

Martha pulled the curtain back a little more to get a better look at the small rancher-style home that was located across the street. Some part of her did love that home. She had initially picked it out for her and her husband to start a family inside. But Mark thought it was beneath him, and so he purchased the far larger and nicer home across the street and gave Martha a rather unhappy surprise when, on moving day, he blindfolded her and revealed that this hunk of junk was her "real" new home.

Martha was devastated and she chose to show this emotional distress by sprinkling little offences or inconveniences in her husbands life for the entirety of their marriage. A rock in the toe of his shoe here, a hem sewed slightly off center there, a missing sock that returned only to go missing again right away, and many other little things that made Mark begin believe he was the unluckiest man alive.

Despite it's small size, the rancher had a beautiful interior and three rooms. It would have been more than enough room for a small family and then they could've upgraded when the other three little ones came along. But, alas, Martha never got what she wanted. She always got something, but it was never what she wanted.

And Mark had doomed Martha to a life where she had to watch other people misuse her beloved home and feel entitled to it. She fantasized about just burning the place to the ground and everyone inside.

But she would never actually do that... she didn't think.

Over the many years Martha made life at that little blue rancher as annoying and inconvenient as possible for the unlucky souls who chose to rent from her and her husband. She always started off strong with a nice dress and a batch of freshly baked cookies that she would drop off on moving day. She would play the friendly neighbor and concerned landlord to make her unsuspecting victims feel safe and happy. And then she would take off the mask and let her true colors shine brightly.

Martha liked to remember the "good-old-days" but she was nearly 70 now and her games and inconveniences were far less interesting and complex. She had gone from the perfect performer to the bitter old lady who, due to lack of creativity, chose to be simply awful to deal with and that did cause some annoyance and distress for her tenants, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying for Martha.

Martha's small green eyes darted towards a man dressed in a long black coat who was strolling down the street, pulling a suitcase behind him. Martha smiled, snapped a blurry picture on her old phone, and recorded the incident in her notebook.

Three people had arrived at the little rancher in the last few days, all of them with luggage. Martha could feel something exciting building. It had been years since she had ammo, had some good reason to confront her unsuspecting tenants.

Usually, Martha and Mark wanted the house to be rented by a family, but since a lot of people had fallen on hard times, this last time Martha rented her house to three young women who were studying at the University. Martha grinned a terrible grin. These girls thought they could just move in their boyfriends and friends without her noticing?

Martha saw everything.

With a small burst of energy Martha grabbed her walking stick and put on her best hat. Her old bones were nearly buzzing with excitement. She couldn't wait to see the look on those girls faces when she screamed at them and reminded them that only they could live there. She couldn't wait to put those good-for-nothing girls out on the streets. She hadn't been this excited since Mark fell ill and the doctor told her he was going to die.

She closed her door behind her and squinted in the sunshine. It was a warm day, perfect for a long and unpleasant conversation on a porch. Martha made her way slowly down the stairs and across the street. She had a slight limp due to a bad hip and she had to struggle a little to get up the three stairs that led to the blue door of the blue home.

Martha raised her cane and knocked loudly on the door three times.

After a moment the door opened shyly and the youngest girl with brown eyes and copper hair stood behind it. Her eyes were tired and she smiled weakly at Martha.

"Hi," she said, "Can I help you?"

"I know what you're doing in there," Martha hissed, hardly able to control herself, "I know all about it. Moving in your boyfriends and your friends. You thought you could trick me? I am going to ruin all of your lives." The girl seemed taken aback, but not because of Martha's threat and that angered Martha so she continued, "You don't think I see all the people you've had over in the last few days?!" she held up the notebook for proof, "It's all recorded in here. I just saw a man with his luggage come over. You are in breach of your rental agreement and I will ensure none of you ever get comfortable housing again!"

The girl blinked and opened her mouth only to close it and blink again. This angered Martha. She wanted to scream and fight but this girl was giving her no kindling for her fires. After another long second the girl leaned forwards, looked around as if worried someone else would hear their conversation and said in a tiny voice, "You can see them too?"

Anger erupted inside Martha like a storm crashing against the shore. So this young lady was going to play it like that? Make Martha, the old woman, think she was losing her marbles? How dare she.

"Don't play stupid with me, girl" Martha growled, "I have pictures and evidence. If you think you're being funny you are not and-" The girls eyes went wide and she put her hands up in defense.

"No," she said, "I'm sorry, I'm not mocking you. I-" she turned around, her eyes sweeping the living room before she pushed the door open more and nodded to the side, "You might as well come in."

Martha, looking like nothing more than an elderly toddler on the cusp of a meltdown huffed but took a step inside. Her curiosity was too intense and if she was inside she'd be able to spot these girl's secrets.

The interior of the home was beautiful, original wood floor, a brick fireplace. Martha sighed as her old eyes wandered around her would-be-home. She wished so badly for things to have been different. She could've found happiness if things had been different.

The girl walked towards the kitchen and motioned towards the living room.

Unregistered Tenants

“Anthony, I need to talk to you about the unregistered tenants I’ve seen coming and leaving your apartment. You signed a lease for a studio apartment and we only allow up to one extra person living there on a regular basis, plus with the fire marshal I legally can’t allow you living with more than three people in that size of an apartment.”

“You can see them too?”

“What?”

“The others. They live within the walls of my apartment, taking on the forms of inanimate objects or strange alien beings when they come home. They only look human when they leave.”

“Just what are you talking about?”

“I’ve told them that there’s no need to assume human forms when they venture into the outside. Only I can see them, but they’re a paranoid bunch and take on people’s forms just in case somebody else has the gift. I suppose their paranoia has been proven justified.”

“Anthony? Are you okay? I can consult a mental health care official you need it.”

“We have plans. Plans that you or anybody else if allowed to see. Big ones. Oh I wish I could let you see them, you’ve been an amazing landlord. Great rent in a fantastic part of town. A steal if really. My friends - no, not the ones from the the other realm, my tangible friends - are jealous.”

“Well I’m flattered to hear that. I like to think that we provide affordable housing and terrific customer service to our many tenants. We didn’t win the best leasing managers in the city five years in a row for nothing. But as you must know- Hey, let go of me!”

“I’m sorry, I really am. But my friends - the intangible ones from another realm - and I can’t let you interfere. We have big plans and we’re just so so close. As an entrepreneur yourself you must understand.”

“I said let go. No, don’t shut the door. Ahhh!”

“Big plans. Big plans indeed. Friends, can you show her to the ritual closet? I think she’ll make a great beta tester for our first incantation.”

“Please, I’ll do anything. I won’t tell a soul. What are those? Tentacles? Please! Pl-“

“Her voice a faint muffle now. I told ya’ll that sound proofing was necessary for a ritual space in the modern world. Apartments are too cramped with paper thin walls nowadays. We’ll check back in a few hours to see if dar’goth is satisfied with his first sacrifice. How about we watch some Netflix in the meantime? I hear Physical 100 is pretty good.”

——

Thank you for reading! For more stories like this please feel free to check out /r/QuadrantNine for my past works. I recommend The Humans if you’re looking for a dialogue only story, or Pretty Eyes if you’re looking for a darker story (side note: Pretty Eyes is only on my archival website right now and not my subreddit).

Edit: if you liked this story then I definitely recommend you check out the 5000 word sequel that I wrote in response to another writing prompt titled Code Inspection. It deals with the old god, now possessing the landlord's body as he tries to build a temple to himself on top of the apartment building. It's a fun romp!

Checking the footage, I could see people going in and out of the tenants home, the way they moved was odd. There was no motion to imply that they opened or closed the front door as they were entering my tenants home. The camera angle doesn’t capture the front of the door, only the hallway, it seemed that they just walked right through. Though every time I’ve visited my tenant to remind him of rent he’s never as much as budged the door an inch to answer me.

Not one to leave the apartment either, piles of food outside, Panda Express, McDonalds, empty pizza boxes with the crusts still in them. Who leaves the crust of the pizza anyway? Pretty much a jobless lowlife for all I know. Probably a junkie who smokes up the place with the ol’ devils lettuce with a buddy or two.

“Mr. Piers, your rent is due, you’re three months late. Not to mention you’ve not paid rent for the last three months either. Do you want me to bring a lawyer? I’ve got plenty of time to spare and I can file your eviction quicker than you can order another Panda Express, and so God help me if you don’t clean up your trash on your front door, I’m really going to get pissed.”

I kicked away some boxes to make way to his door and knocked on it playfully, akin to a child desperately trying to get his parents attention. I didn’t even need the money, I just liked messing with the guy.

“Do you hear me? We need to talk right now.”

‘Piss off, get a life you gold sucking bitch. I ain’t got time for you.’

I could hear what sounded like the flicking of a steel lighter on the other side of the door. I knew it. A junkie.

“Excuse me?” I jingled the “master keys” in front of his door. Little does he know those were just my car keys and the jingling noise was from a cute little keychain I attached to it.

“Want me to come in there myself and drag your ass out?” I pretended to insert the “master key” into his lock while jiggling the knob.

‘Fine fine, fuck outta here Robert, the fuck do you want?’ He nudged open the door an inch hitting it on the frame, the door chain jangling loudly from the impact, then looked me in the eye.

“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier, the rent dumbass. Also, I can see from the camera footage that you’ve got people going in and out of your place. That’s fine for visitation hours but I’m pretty sure I don’t see them leave sometimes. That is absolutely not allowed under any circumstances, period.”

‘Shit, you can see them too?’

“Yeah I can see them. The other tenants can see them. My security guys can see them. What does that matter. The fact they show up on the camera is proof enough that you’re full of shit.” I smirked cheekily, Mr. Piers here looks like he was about to shit bricks.

‘Fuck. I suggest you get the fuck outta here Robert. I’m serious Robert. S-E-R-I-O-S.’

“That’s now how you spell serious but okay. And no, I don’t think I will.” I decided to humour him. At this point I was just taking the piss, he’s probably high as a kite anyway, this was fun.

‘Come in.’ He sounded defeated, probably from me annoying the hell out of the guy. He unhooked the door chain and invited me in.

If the outside of his home was a mess, the inside was beyond a mess. Weird drawings and symbols strewn across the walls on sheets of paper that looked like they were printed in the 1800s. At the centre of the living room was a weird circle drawn in…dried blood? It was surrounded by wax candles of varying sizes.

“What the hell did you do to my unit Piers?!”

‘Shhh shhh, shut the fuck up. I’ll show you. Take out your phone and look at the camera footage again, slowly this time.’

“What about it?”

‘Notice how there aren’t any shadows on the people walking in?’ I reviewed the footage, increased the brightness, and still couldn’t see what he wanted me to see.

“It’s in 480p, I can’t even make out a man from a woman in this pixelated crap, your point?”

He sighed, tugged my hand and dragged me closer to his summoning circle and began chanting in a language I don’t understand.

‘Now place your hand in front of you.’

An invisible force stopped my hand, slowly, something materialised and a visage of what looked like a human appeared.

“Holy shit. What the fuck?!” I recoiled backwards.

‘These are my uhh…servants. They uh…do stuff for me, keeps food on the table. They were not meant to be seen, seems I got sloppy, either that or a prick like you got a priest to live in the compound now. So…you now know my secret, I’m going to have to ask you to forget what you saw and delete all the footage. Otherwise, I’ll have to…’ He made a clicking sound while motioning his hand like a pair of scissors.

The visage followed and made an arcing slice with its…appendages.

“S-s-sure, fine. Whatever.” I stumbled backwards and ran for the door. Behind me I could hear him loudly exclaiming.

‘Don’t even bother coming next time, dickhead. And while you’re at it, turn the fucking security cams off.’

“YES, I SEE THEM MUTHA FUCKAS!!!”

“YOU THINK YOU WERE GONNA SIX SENSE ME YOU BITCH?!?!

I smack him in the face. His body laid on the floor, knocked out. I then look towards the other three.

“YALL BETTER NOT COME BACK HERE AGAIN!!”

The three run off around me, but so much anger has been building since seeing these three living there when I should of been getting paid more, I reached out and grab one of them.

The man was screaming at his friends, “Lauren! Bobby Joe Joe!! His got me!!” But they were long gone.

I turned him around and pulled out my knife. “Don’t move! I swear I cut you!!”

He held his hands up, laying on his back and started being silent. I cautiously stepped toward my tenant, but with my eye on him.

I reached to him and turned him around. “Wake up Joel!I know you’ve been letting those mutha fuckas leave here for the last three months and I know god damn well that none are on the lease.”

I press down on his throat with my foot and his eyes widen.

“I want you to hear me very clearly Joel, if I see that fucker and the other two ever back here, I swear I’ll come and-“

“FREEZE!! POLICE!!! GET ON THE GROUND!!!”

I turn around and see two police officers. Behind them were the two others that ran off.

I tried to defend myself, “Sirs, you don’t understand, this man has been letting this three-

“GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND!! IF YOU DO NOT COOPERATE WE WILL SHOOT!!

“Guys, please don’t be so-

My ears start ringing and for some reason I am besides Joel.

I start feeling a pain in my stomach and reach my hands towards it. My hands feel warm and wet. I look down and see my coors light shirt was red.

Everything just slows down. I had one office over me, saying to himself “please don’t die” while the other office still pointed the gun at me. I start to feel my eyes heavy and lastly hearing the silent faints of my tenant.

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Part I: Working in the courtyard of his father and step-mothers apartment, Jimmy felt a tickle on the back of his neck. Looking up at the balcony to his step-brothers apartment he saw a strange elderly woman looking out. "God-dang it. Not another one. I told him he couldn't sublet any of his rooms. He's getting the family rate what more does he want?"

          By the time Jimmy had stomped up the stairs, the balcony was empty once again. He banged on the door. "Jack? For f's sake open this door! I am only going to give you one more chance." When there was no answer he left in a huff.

          Jack heard Jimmy yelling and peeped around the corner. He saw Jimmy leave. He knew he was late with the rent. But he was a little afraid to get near anyone living.

          Again Jack looked around the corner and mentally scoped out the path to his front door. He didn't want accidently touch anything that might get called back from the dead. And he made doubly sure the crazies from the cemetery weren't lurking around. His trip home took over an hour because of those idiots. Once more Jack checked out his route to his apartment and looked down at his hands. He rubbed them together anxiously. Yesterday after having worked all day with metal-handled tools he'd forgotten his condition and put on his leather gloves. After carrying several trash bags out to the dumpster ,he noticed a trail of blood drips leading from the shed to the refuse bins. Looking down in horror he saw his gloves were oozing blood. In a panic he threw them off. The gloves tore themselves apart at the seams. The pieces spurted blood and writhed on the ground. Running to the shed he started a fire in the burn barrel, got a metal shovel and tossed the gory leather chunks in the fire. He wondered how in the hell he was going to explain all this to Jimmy.

After a mad dash he gratefully closed his door. By putting plastic bags on his hands he fixed himself a meal. He wasn't sure what fresh fruit and vegetables would do, but after the gloves he wasn't taking any chances. For dessert he got himself a beer and sat down on the plastic covered couch. He used to hate the plastic but for last week he loved it. Jack took a long deep drink. Why did this happen? Why does it feel like I am being punished? Finishing the beer in a swallow he turned on the TV. It was a show about fantasy mages and wizards. Right. If they only knew. It was not two minutes before he fell asleep. As he slept a figure formed from a gray fog into a discrete character. It was an old lady in 1950's dress. She floated about the apartment before stopping next to Jack. She smiled lovingly down at him. It was at that moment there was a furious banging the door. "Jack, this is Jimmy. I know you are in there. Buster we have to talk. NOW! Jack groaned and started to snore. The ghost lady stood calmly and watched him sleep. "Alright." Jimmy said, "Enough is enough." Using his pass-key Jimmy burst into Jacks' living room. "Hey stupid wake up! Who the hell is the old broad?" While Jimmy was yelling at Jack another older person, a man, materialized next to the lady. He too was dressed in 50's attire. The two ghosts smiled at one another. At last Jack woke up. "What? Huh? Jimmy what do you want? Jimmy pulled his half-brother up by his collar and pointed to the two old people standing in the living room clear as day. "I told you, that you cannot sublet any of your rooms. How do you not understand that?" Jack looked at the quaint old pair, one of them looked familiar. "Mrs. Carstairs? Is that you?" She twinkled at him. "Yes Jack it is." Then she gestured to the ge1ntleman next to her, "Jack I want you to meet my husband Peter." Peter nodded at him. "Glad to meet you young man. Thank you so much for taking such good care of our resting places..." Jimmy interrupted him. "Jack. I don't care what you did for them. They cannot live here." Jack shook his head and looked at Jimmy like he was seeing him for the first time. "You can see them too?" Jimmy groaned. "Yes fuck nuts I can see them. And I will tell you something else, smart guy. I have seen at least five other people looking off your balcony." Jack stood up. "Five!? Five more? What?" At this moment five more ghosts floated into the living room from the balcony. They glided up next to Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs. One was in colonial garb and a another man had an enormous afro and was wearing psychedelic bell bottoms, Mrs. Carstairs squinted at Jimmy. "Peter I think that is Edna's boy, Jimmy-Joe. Don't you?" Jimmy's eyes bugged open wide and in a complete panic was soundlessly opening and closing his mouth while he jabbed his finger at their ghostly guests. Jack let out an frustrated sigh, sat down and buried his head in his hands. Mrs. Carstairs looked at the other ghosts and they nodded, so she floated forward a few paces nearer to Jack and Jimmy."Boys, I, we, understand that this must seem odd to y'all. But Jack took such beautiful care of our sacred resting places that we wanted to reward him." "So you made me a necromancer?" Jack asked in exasperation through his hands. Jimmy piped up. "Why couldn't you have let him win the lotto or something?" Mrs. Carstairs looked kindly at the pair ,"I am sorry, but we can't do anything about things like that." Jack stood up and faced the group. "Ok. So why me? And why now?" he pleaded. Mrs. Carstairs and the rest of the ghosts became agitated. "Jack do you remember those awful mages who chased you?" "Yes. Why?" "Well," she paused ,"We are all bound to them through the demon Cernat. They use our energy to do evil." A young girl ghost pushed thru the others."Mr. Jack. Those men do bad, terrible things. They hurt us. Please help us." The big black man with the afro chimed in. " Dudes are not righteous man." Mrs. Carstairs grasped her hands in front of her chest and pleaded- ,"Jack, if you help free us, we will remove the gift of necromancy." Without hesitation Jack responded ,"YES!" Jimmy looked at him ."You are nuts man.

Part II: Dressed in black jeans and hoodies, Jack and Jimmy, with their ghost crew watched as the red demon Cernat materialized within a glowing salt pentagram. Jimmy held the only yew they could find, a decrepit old Christmas wreath. It still had tinsel and green ribbons wrapped around it.

          Mrs. Carstairs directed them. "Boys, Jack will have to place the yew bough in the salt barrier. And when it starts growing, the yew will dispel the binding force, the demon will dissipate and we will be free."

          Approaching the chanting mages Jack could feel waves of energy pass thru him like a heavy bass beat.

          Suddenly Cernat screamed, "Interlopers! They are here to destroy us. Stop them!"

          Under three dark hoods, three pairs of glowing yellow eyes looked toward the group. In a barely human voice the lead mage growled, "I can hold the the spell. Stop Jack!"

          The apprentices flew at them like two huge bats. Jimmy ducked and tripped one. It careened into a stone wall not to rise. The second one caught Jack in a bear hug. Jimmy slid the wreath up his arm and threw himself on top of the mage holding Jack.

          The trio stumbled toward the glowing pentagram falling only a few feet away from it.

          The ghosts wailed.

          Jack yelled to Jimmy. "Hold the wreath in the salt then take my hand."

          Then as Jimmy grasped Jacks hand, he became as stiff as a board, his eyes rolling back into his head. Yet, he held firm onto Jack and kept the wreath in the salt.

          The ghosts all gasped and pointed.

          The wreath was slowly growing. It was pushing the salt apart.

          Cernat opened its mouth in a soundless shout. But the remaining mage threw its head back and let out a soul rending scream.

          As the yew twigs grew and strengthened, the salt fully parted. The demon exploded into darkness. The mages collapsed. Their robes deflating into dark piles.

          Jack sat up to see his ghosts floating around him. They were clapping and cheering.

          "Jack you did it. You saved us. "Mrs. Carstairs gleefully told him.

          "Thank you. Thank you. Mr. Jack."

          "Power to you brother, power to you."

          Jack smiled. "You are welcome. But a deal is a deal."

          "Yes of course. Close your eyes." They all said in unison.

          Jack felt a shock wave pass thru his body. When he opened his eyes. He was alone. Jimmy was still holding his hand and the wreath.

          He stood and pulled Jimmy to standing.

          Puzzled Jimmy looked at the fresh green wreath in his hand and asked him. "Dude, what are we doing in this creepy place?"

          Jack laughed. "You really don't want to know."