Haunter's Estate

Chapter One

     Konnor munched on his dumpster donut halfheartedly but thoughtfully.  He'd by some miracle managed score himself a metal shipping container for shelter, but if he couldn't find a place that would let him work, he'd still be saving up spare change and eating dumpster food for the rest of his life. Even if he still had the saved-up allowance money from his last foster home, he really wanted to save that for emergencies. As it was, he was lucky none of it had been stolen in his nearly three years on the streets.
The sound of claws on metal ticked up to him. He offered a piece of the plain donut to the small, sniffing creature beside him.
"Hi, Scraps," he said, petting the scruffy little dog without looking at him. "Where'd you go off to? Finding some girl dog to fuck?" The small canine ate the piece of donut and gave a half bark.
"What?" Konner asked him. "I wasn't joking." He would've bet money the dog got more action than he'd ever get. Scraps barked again, a real bark this time. Konner reached out to pet the dog, but Scraps jumped away and barked again.
"Do you want me to follow you?" Konner asked. The dog barked again, trotting out into the night, his bright green eyes the only thing to tell Konner where he was. A light rain began to fall as he followed the little canine. The two walked for several minutes, Konner with no idea where the dog was leading him, until a large structure began to come into view. 
     "Not here, Scraps," Konner told the canine.  "Anywhere but here."  The dog had led him straight to Haunter's estate, a mysterious, odd-looking mansion that had appeared at the edge of town a few weeks before.  He'd heard rumors around the streets that the owner was some kind of magic practitioner who snuck around at night looking for animals and people to do who-knows-what to.  Konner wasn't sure how true the rumors were, but he didn't exactly want to find out. 
     The manor itself looked to be at least four stories tall, not including the taller tower at one back corner and the reptilian stone legs at the corners.  The deep stone porch appeared to go all the way around the manor, and the giant upside down dirt pile underneath seemed to suggest a large basement.  The mansion itself was also stone, except for a large glass extension that appeared to be a greenhouse of sorts.  There was another extension on the opposite side of the building, a large garage, maybe.  Konner wondered if there was a backyard or if the ground the house stopped at just became the yard wherever the house settled. 
     Scraps chose that moment to run full speed up to the curved front steps and dashed up to the double front doors. 
     "Scraps, no!"  Konner yelled, running after him.  The front staircase was lined on either side with orange jack-o-lanterns, each with a different face and flickering with a strange green fire inside.  Konner counted twenty-eight as he reached the stairs, one on each side of the thirteen steps and one at the corner of each railing that touched the ground.  Scraps disappeared through a plastic pet flap at the bottom of the left door as he climbed up. 
     "Come back here!"  Konner tried the doors but found them locked. 
     "No entry without an appointment," a crackley voice beside him sternly spoke.  Konner looked and found a bench with two chairs and a small table set up in front of one of the front windows.  On the bench sat a man-sized scarecrow in dark blue overalls and an orange, brown and red flannel shirt.  Its burlap sack head was turned towards Konner, the face annoyed under its black cowboy hat. 
     "But my dog went in there," Konner protested. 
     "You heard me," the scarecrow folded its straw arms.  "No appointment, no entry.  Haunter isn't in, anyway." 
     "But I need to get him before he causes trouble," Konner argued.  "I don't want my dog knocking anything over or getting hurt."  The scarecrow stared at the young man for several seconds before huffing.  There was the sound of a deadbolt unlocking and one door creaked open a few inches. 
     "You have sixty seconds," the scarecrow told him grumpily.  "One minute.  Get your dog and get out.  If you're not back on this porch after time's up, I'm locking you in.  Then you get to deal with Haunter when he gets back."  Konner rushed in and immediately began looking for the little black canine. 
     "Scraps!"  He called urgently.  "Where are you, you naughty dog?"  A short bark came from a short way down the front hall.  Konner followed it to find what looked like a large living room.  In front of the huge fireplace, snuggled on the carpet enjoying the crackling green flames lay Scraps. 
     "Come here, you," Konner walked over.  "We need to leave."  The dog watched him approach, but just before Konner reached him, Scraps jumped up and dashed away again. 
     "Now's not the time for chase!"  Konner followed the fast little creature.  "We need to get out of here!"  But Scraps didn't seem interested in leaving.  He ran away from Konner several more times, completely ignoring the open front door.  Konner tried to herd him out, desperately wanting to avoid a meeting with the owner of the manor, but the dog was too smart to fall for it.  Suddenly, the scarecrow's face appeared in the living room fireplace. 
     "Ten seconds," he warned, and began counting down. 
     "Scraps!"  Konner growled, but the dog just wagged his tail and ran again.  The door slammed and the lock clicked into place. 
     "Too late," the scarecrow said mischievously.  "Time's up!" 
     "Damnit, dog!"  Konner sank onto one of the couches, his head in his hands.  "Look what you got us into!"  Scraps finally seemed to realize Konner was stressing and walked over to put his head on the human's lap. 
     "No," Konner said.  "I'm not petting you.  I'm mad." 
     "Haunter's gonna be mad when he gets back and finds you two," the scarecrow chuckled darkly.  "That should be interesting!"  His face disappeared from the fireplace, but Konner could hear him laugh to himself outside.  Konner let out a huge sigh and huffed in frustration.  All he'd wanted was a nice night watching the stars and falling asleep to the rain, but now he was stuck here awaiting the return of the mansion's owner. 
     "We're in trouble now, dog," Konner said, gently pulling at the tuft of fur at the top of Scraps' head.  "Any ideas?"  The dog just tilted his head and looked back at him.  Konner sighed again, looking around the room trying to at least find something to do.  He spotted a large metal ring filled with wood beside the fireplace.  He stood and walked over, picking up a piece of wood and placing it on the slowly-shrinking fire.  The flames grew and the scarecrow appeared again. 
     "What are you doing?"  He asked from the crackling fire.  "Why did you feed me?" 
     "The fire was dying," Konner answered.  "No one told me it would feed you." 
     "I'm a nature being with flame oriented abilities," the scarecrow said grumpily.  "Of course putting wood on the fire fuels me."  Konner shrugged. 
     "Nobody told me," he said again. The scarecrow sighed grumpily.
"You'll already be in hot water when Haunter gets back," he said. "You'd be wise not to do anything else to piss him off." With that, he disappeared again, leaving Konner alone with Scraps. He walked over to what looked like a pile of thin paperback books or thick catalogs sitting on a small table between the woodpile and a comfy looking wing chair. He straightened the pile as he looked at the covers so it wouldn't topple. He turned the spines to face outward so the titles could still be seen.
Konner had learned over his time as a foster child not to explore too much in a new house, but if he was going to be trapped here, he might as well walk around a little instead of sitting and waiting. He walked into the next room, which turned out to be a massive kitchen. The first thing he saw was the huge sink with a week's worth of used dishes, utensils and mugs sitting in it, waiting to be washed. An idea hit him then: if he could prove himself useful, maybe Haunter would allow him and the dog to stay without issue. Konner walked over to the sink and, not seeing a dishwasher, washed the dishes off. Drying them off with a hand towel hanging from one of the two large wall ovens, he looked in the cabinets only long enough to find which ones the dishes lived in. 
     Konner then noticed some wet spots on the floor where Scraps must've shaken off the rain and where they'd both left footprints.  He found some paper towels and cleaned up the spots.  The flooring was apparently easy-to-clean vinyl tile that only resembled a dark wood, so it didn't take him long.  Konner and the dog had somehow managed to avoid most of the area rug in the living room, but the few puppy prints on it also came up nicely.  Apparently, Haunter liked easy maintenance.  Konner wiped off both his sneakers and Scraps' paws before sitting back down. 
     A large grandfather clock in the entryway chimed midnight as the front doors opened and someone walked in.  Konner had thought about holding Scraps when Haunter got back, but the dog was squirmy and sniffy and he ran right to the doors as the homeowner entered.  He barked several times as Haunter stopped in the entrance. 
     "Mortimer," Konner guessed that was the scarecrow's name, as Haunter had semi-yelled irritatedly toward the closed doors.  "What is this?" 
     "Its human calls it a dog," Mortimer appeared in the fireplace for a third time that night. 
     "It's what?"  Haunter sounded like he couldn't decide whether to be angry or confused.  "Mortimer what did you do?"  The homeowner had followed the dog back to the living room and found Konner. 
     "Hi," Konner kept a calm, neutral tone, but Haunter still lifted one corner of his upper lip and growled, showing a long canine tooth. 
     "He wanted in to catch the dog," Mortimer explained as Haunter's odd, violet colored eyes flared with an angry fire.  "I gave him one minute, but he failed so I locked him in until you got back."  The scarecrow was clearly proud of himself, but Haunter looked like he was still trying to figure out how to feel. 
     "Does he have a name?"  Haunter finally asked.  Mortimer didn't answer, but Konner looked from the tall young man in front of him to the dog. 
     "Are you asking about me or the dog?"  He asked.  Haunter showed his tooth again, but didn't growl this time. 
     "Both," he finally answered monotonously.  His chin-length, fluffy black hair fell almost in his eyes as he looked down at Konner seated on the couch.  A cowlick at the top of his head stuck up almost like a shark fin. 
     "The dog is Scraps," Konner answered civilly.  "My name is Konner, with a 'K'." 
     "I didn't ask for the spelling," Haunter said tensely.  "You're aware of who I am, aren't you?" 
     "You're the guy who owns this house," Konner answered.  Haunter barely seemed to move, but in about one second or less, the point of a long, thin, green blade was about half a foot from Konner's face. 
     "I'm the half-vampire, half-mage hybrid monster hunter who's spent most of my life training to take out the most dangerous beasties," he said in a warning tone.  "I could end you in half a second if you even thought about trying something funny."  His sword swung around to point at the pile of catalogs and magazines on the table. 
     "Did you touch those?"  He asked.  Konner nodded slowly. 
     "They looked like they were going to fall over," he explained carefully.  "So I fixed them." 
     "He also cleaned the floors and washed the dirty dishes," at this point, it didn't surprise Konner that Mortimer knew what he'd been up to.  The scarecrow clearly acted as some type of security monitor, so he guessed any room that could have a heat source, the being could see what went on.  "He also fed me."  Haunter's eyes narrowed. 
     "Why?"  He asked.  Konner shrugged, trying not to seem desperate or spooked. 
     "Because," he said.  "Just because."  Haunter sighed, seeming to resign himself to something he wasn't entirely sure about. 
      "You stay in this room tonight," he told Konner.  "You sleep on that couch you're sitting on.  If you need to relieve yourself, you use the powder room at the other side of the entrance.  Am I clear?" 
     "Yes," Konner wasn't going to argue with a warm, comfortable sofa.  He take it over his old sleeping bag at the shipping container.  As long as his small backpack and the dog were there, he would be okay.  Haunter lifted the top of a square ottoman and pulled out a dusty blue throw blanket that was all but thrown at Konner.  The other young man put another log on Mortimer's fire as Scraps settled on the rug. 
     "Keep an eye on him," Haunter told the scarecrow as he waved his hand, causing the overhead lanterns to dim to almost nothing.  Konner took off his sneakers before lying down on the couch, the rather large throw covering him nicely.  He heard Haunter's footsteps walk away as he closed his eyes.