Our destination was a run-down house under construction.

“This is our destination, cat-creature?” I asked, feeling confident enough to actually use my voice.

Yes, it thought back, still enjoying— evidently— using its mind voice. I hope that the rumor mill is true. If so, we will be in luck.

Once again, I could have asked about what it meant by ‘luck,’ but I did not. Again, pointless questions when you didn’t even know, fully, whether you were going insane; sure, the creature perched on my head had said otherwise, but that is just the sort of thing that a hallucinogen-monster would say, yeah? I was just hear for the ride.

Entering the downtrodden house that had seen better days— and which might see those better days considering the construction— I kept my eyes peeled. I didn’t know what I was looking for but seeing as how the events of the night included huge and sentient donut people and a part-cat, part-butterfly creature, all heralded by a substance that I ‘smoked,’ anything could happen; who knows, maybe I was about to come face-to-face with some kind of spider or cobweb demon. Anything could happen.

You mortals and stories, let me tell you, the creature said as we were exploring the house room-by-room.

“Oh, then why don’t you tell me?” I asked, getting a tad tired of it speaking lowly, but most of all cryptically, about my kind . . . mortals?

Stories. Rumors. I thought a ghost gaggle might be here, but so far I am disappointed.

The idea of meeting a ghost was fascinating to me. Normally, repulsive, but tonight? Why not?

“Come out, ghostie, ghostie, ghosties!” I shouted. “We won’t hurt you— promise!”

Keep your silly voice down, mortal! the cat-creature shrilly snapped at me.

I shrugged and continued my search. Our search. But it was hard since I did not know what I was looking for vis-a-vis ghost aesthetics. Such ignorance being the case, I just started talking to the cat creature as I searched.

“Do you have a name, cat-creature? Or am I just to keep calling you cat-creature?” I asked.

I felt a rumbling in the creature’s belly. No idea if that rumbling was a good or bad sign at me asking it for personal details. Heck, maybe it was just hungry. I was hungry. But, finally, it responded, “You can call me . . . wait, what is that?”

I sighed; so close, so far to something like a normal conversation. I twisted my body to see what the cat-creature had seen.

As usual, it took me a moment. There was only a faint shimmer at first, but as my eyes adjusted to the vague outline in a manner not dissimilar to adjusting to the dark, I saw the humanoid form slowly become better, more detailed. But then like an background to foreground fade in a movie, it reached its zenith and remained semi-translucent, never solidifying more than its current wispy form.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Look at us!” the cat creature said, this time aloud, its screeching tone actually shaking the walls, if only just.

By now, I was looking with rapt intent. My angst about the cat-creature’s name, gone. Was this entity before me a legit ghost? It certainly looked that way. I was thrilled. This ghost meant that something more was out there and that the crazy in the world wasn’t just the irrational talking chip bag and sentient donut trooper. Actual ghosts and ghouls from urban legends existed. The proof was right in front of me.

“Look. At. Us!” the cat-creature on my head repeated, this time with emphasis. But to me, the creature said mentally that this is the issue with ghosts, you really, REALLY have to force them to acknowledge you. Self-absorbed creatures these ghosts are.

I did not know how to respond to that . . . when it comes to the supernatural, I have no biases. Hard to do when you are only now discovering that there are things to have biases against!

Another few repetitions and with the cat-creature shoving itself into the body and past of a ghost, and they got the message. One of the ghosts— I know could see that there was several phantoms— cocked its head like a dog and moaned.

Classic ghost bullshit. This moaning crap is what they do when they don’t know what’s happening and are trying to scare off mortals. Posers.

“FOR THE LAST GODFORESAKEN TIME— LOOK. AT. ME!” the cat creature screamed with thunder causing several pieces of construction equipment to fall over.

Reluctantly, the ghosts did finally stare away from me and at the cat-creature. And the moment that they saw the creature, everything changed.

“Sorry, mi-lord, you know how these things a-re: humans first, primacy se-co-nd,” one of the ghosts said as if that solved everything. But what threw me off was their pronunciation: their ghostly wailing was a thing, like in the movies, but these ghosts wailed through emphasizing certain parts of speech. It was like somebody yelling parts of a word as they spoke. Very weird. Made me think of the ghosts in a child-like way, which was even weirder considering they were ghosts.

“My associate and I need to get deeper into the city. The harbor. Can you get us there?” the creature asked.

“Felix . . . these t-hings do n-ot happen easil-y. Gentrification has f-ucked and destroyed man-y of our ha-unts,” the ghost replied with a sadness in its voice I was not prepared for; but no more so than hearing a ghost talk about gentrification. What was happening?!

“Ugh, fine . . . get us the closest you can to the Waystone,” the creature said.

The ghosts did not say anything. Several of them began to muddle around in a corner of the room and moan more than usual. Gradually, I saw the shadows thicken— for lack of a better word— and become something more than shadow, like a rich fog one might see on a lonely London night as Jack the Ripper stalks his prey.

“As p-er the a-nci-ent covenant, no chaaaaarge, Feli-x. But p-lease under-stand this could chaaaaaange in the future . . . “ one of the ghosts said while out of sight and in its more cliched protracted wailing manner.

“Yes, yes . . . but if you could help me more and—” but as he spoke, Felix, as his name evidently was, was cut off by a ghost.

“Take your tunnel. Leeeeeave!” a wailing voice said before leaving.

And just like that, the ghosts were gone. And I knew that they were gone since the room felt lighter; in fact, until they left, I had no idea how heavy their simple presence made a room. It made me think of the other times in my life where I was uncomfortable in a place and whether those times was just because of me or because of unseen specters. I guess I would never know, but it was still fun to think about for—

Enough daydreaming and ghost speculation, mortal, let’s get a hopping! God, it’s like you have ADD or something. Get on through that tunnel before it evaporates! As the cat creature spoke, I stopped my train of thought and mindlessly obeyed. I felt a bit ashamed for letting my mind wander, but I was determined to make up for it with willful concentration. So, without thinking and with conviction, I stepped through a portal to the unknown.