A Fuckton of Polygrumps

Ghoul Grumps: House Guest

Synopsis: Arin moves into a ghost-infested house similar to the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World. He meets several 'happy haunts' that inhabit the building and actually learns that not all spirits are bad. Except Ross. Ross is bad.

"Fucking luggage," Arin groaned, gritting his teeth and yanking his suitcase up the concrete stairs that led to the mansion. "Goddammit-"

He finally managed to get up to the final step after an embarrassing amount of struggling. He dug around in his pocket for the house key and examined the front door carefully. There was a terrifying golden knocker in the shape of a lion's head on it, covered in dust and cobwebs. He shuddered and pressed the skeleton key into the lock. The door flung open with a horrifying creaking sound.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there?"

He dragged his suitcases inside, the old wooden floors creaking with every step he took. He took a deep breath, convincing himself that he'd just been jittery because he'd been up all night. That's it; over-tiredness. The sound of odd laughter joined the chorus of squeaks from the floor.

"Hello? If there's anyone here, you better show yourself! Don't be an asshole...please?"

He left the luggage at the front door and continued venturing into the mansion. He'd inherited it from his grandparents, who wanted him specifically to have it...for some fucked up reason. So, here he was; moving into this creepy house that could probably hold a dozen people in it. It felt incredibly empty and cold, windows letting in an eerie sort of grey light due to all the dust and cobwebs that covered them.

He took hold of the grand banister made of polished mahogany wood. Even covered in dust, it was shiny and splendid. He stepped up the stairs only to feel something trip him. He looked around, brandishing the skeleton key he had. The laughter rose again and the lights began to flicker on and off.

"Show yourself! I'm not afraid to fight you!"

"What a fucking idiot," a voice replied with contempt, tugging the key from Arin's hand.

"Who's there?"

"I'm Satan!"

"S-Satan?"

There was another eruption of laughter. The voice wasn't particularly deep and the accent was eerily Australian. That voice was taunting and teasing him.

"Knock it off," a gentler male voice chided, lifting Arin to his feet. "Poor guy's probably horrified."

"You're no fun, Dan," the other voice hissed, yanking at Arin's hair.

"He probably can't even see us yet! Don't be cruel, dude."

A warm presence washed over Arin as the kinder voice spoke. It was smooth, gentle, and almost inviting. He felt his body move from the staircase as if in a trance and lurched towards an old mirror that hung from the wall. The golden border was still in perfect condition and Arin found it enticing to look into it. Behind him, a tall man with long curly hair stood. The spirit had an eerie green glow around him, but he seemed kind. Suddenly, the name Leigh Daniel Avidan appeared over the taller ghost's head and Ross O' Donovan above the other's.

"Drug overdose in 2004," Dan murmured with a shrug. "I mean, that's what did me in."

"I was murdered," the other voice chimed in, taking the form of a shorter pale ghost with light brown hair. "See?" He persisted, pointing to a gaping hole in his stomach.

"I can't imagine why," Arin muttered sarcastically, turning to see specters. "Anyway, how come I can see you guys now?"

"The mirror is fucking weird," Dan replied with a shrug. "But anywho, wanna see the rest of the mansion? It is your home now, after all."