HIATUS, POSSIBLE DISCONTINUATION - Whispers of a Ghost

Chapter I

Dream was excited to move into a new house. It was bigger, a lot bigger, than his last one and he could invite his friends over whenever.

It was a fairly nice house. There was a small porch, and when you walked through the front door, you walk straight into the living room. The TV was to the immediate right, coat hangers on the left. The living room was smaller, but comfy. It had a loveseat up against the wall opposite the TV, and a chair next to the window at the side of the room.

After the coat hangers, is the archway into the dining room, which connected to the kitchen. In the kitchen, there's a door that leads to the side of the house, where the driveway is.

Walking through the front door again, straight ahead is a staircase to upstairs, where there's two guest and a master bedroom. Each bedroom has a personal bath, for convenience. There's also one bath next to the stairs, on the first floor.

Dream shut the front door and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He likes the old, rustic floors and old fashioned lights. He sort of brought them up to date, but made sure they still looked older. As long as everything matched somewhat.

"Alright, Clay, what now?" He asked himself in a murmur. He decided to go and lay in his bed. It was about 6:30-ish, and he'd had lunch/dinner with Sap earlier.

As soon as he walked into his room, he felt a chill run down his spine. It was a noticeable difference compared to out the door; it may be a draft from one of the windows, or just that side of the house. It was nearing the end of summer anyways.

It felt so thick in the room. Like he could breathe, but his chest was being compressed. It confused him, but he brushed it off.

He lay down in his bed, relaxing, thinking. He started to feel drowsy, dozing off, but before he could fully fall asleep, he heard the wood creak. His immediate thought was that the air had either cut off or on, but then it happened again and there was no explanation.

To that he opened his eyes. He still felt groggy, and he couldn't see well in the growing darkness. The only light in the room was the dying light from outside.

He felt like he should reach for the lamp on his nightstand, but he didn't... want to. He didn't want to have to. He wanted to name a logical, rational reason to the creaks in the floor, so he could go to sleep without being freaked out his first night.

It was stupid anyway, the way he was acting. He had never believed in ' ghost stories ', and still doesn't. They're so out of this world, they're almost impossible to believe.

Therefore, there was no reason he should be feeling the way he was in the house. Therefore, he should be fine and continue trying to fall asleep.

But there it was again.

It was closer to him. Closer to the bed.

It was almost like someone had walked across the floor towards him, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

It had also gotten noticeably colder in the room, making him shiver when he pulled back the blankets, sitting up and slinging his legs over the side. He stood slowly, testing the floor. There were no creaks. So, he didn't understand what made the floor creak if he couldn't make it creak.

He took a step forward, this time faster to test the floor again. Like the last, there were no creaks. It confused him to no end.

There was a creak behind him.

He whipped around, but there was nothing there, nothing to see but his bed and the old floorboards.

And then, as soon as it had come, everything seemed to go back to normal. The room went back to a reasonable temperature, everything stopped creaking, and he felt exhausted. He got back in bed and went to sleep.