Hallo-Weenies

Haunted* Pt. 1

*by a very short, very angry ghost who just really hates Ouija boards

Church hated Halloween. He fucking hated it. It was this time of year that kids got the bright idea to whip out the Ouija boards, trying to summon dead ass spirits who want to haunt their houses or some shit. Nine times out of ten, one of them would move the pointer thing anyways. What was even the purpose of calling him there? Church hated it.

Like, okay, October did have its perks. For starters, it was the time he actually had the most communication with the living, being a ghost and all. That was pretty nice. He had very little memories still intact from when he was alive, and being around living people sometimes brought them back. And he really liked the smell of pumpkins, which was all over the damn place this month. So cool. October. Not cool? The responsibilities of being dead.

Every time a person put their grubby little fingers on the Ouija board, the nearest ghost was summoned. Okay, yeah. That makes sense. It just sucked that, in Church's little suburb of Valhalla, he was pretty sure he was the only dead guy who cared to stick around.

One perk he got out of that? Messing with people.

It was twenty days until Halloween when he got yet another call. Every time this happened, Church felt like his stomach was being dragged up his throat by a vacuum cleaner. This time was no different. He choked on air, as if he needed to breathe, and then suddenly, bam! He was in some random house in the middle of town. Grand.

"What do you even want?" He grumbled. Of course, they couldn't hear him. There were four kids sitting on the floor there, each with one hand pressed to the pointer thing. Church hadn't been dumb enough to mess with this shit as a kid. Like, come on. You're begging for trouble.

"Uh, dear dead guy, or something," one of them said. He wore an obnoxiously teal (aqua?) shirt, and for some reason held his head down in prayer. "Welcome to my house, I guess. I live here. It's pretty great. Bet you're glad to be in my presence. But uh, hey. Don't like, kill us, I guess. Amen." The other three nodded, one in dark blue a little more enthusiastically than the others.

That first one of the kids- okay, hold on. They weren't really kids. They were somewhere around seventeen, old enough to know better. That almost pissed Church off even more. "Okay, guys," the dude said. He had dark black hair cropped close to his head, with a darker skin tone than the rest. "We need to remember to be, like, polite and stuff. I think. Maybe. Or wait, did it say aggressive? I don't know, I've only looked this up on wiki-how once, in like, seventh grade."

"Thanks, Tucker. Nice preparation. Always great to hear you have an expert on your team," a second guy said. Ginger, curly hair, glasses. Looked like a fucking dork to Church.

"Let's just get this over with. Why can't we like, sit around and eat popcorn and watch movies like normal teenagers?" This third dude looked kinda... Hawaiian, almost? He definitely had a point, though. These motherfuckers could be doing literally anything else, and they chose to summon ghosts. Great.

"I like ghosts. My cat Apples was a ghost once. She came to me in a dream," said the fourth one. Don't do drugs, kids, Church thought to himself. Even sitting down Church could tell this guy was tall as hell. Something about him seemed familiar. Fucking druggies. There was always one of those in a group, Church would know.

"That's nice, Caboose, but we're not here to summon a dead cat. Don't think they can talk, anyway," the first guy- Tucker- said. "Alright, come on. Let's think of some questions."

"Ooh, I know. What is your favorite color?" The Caboose guy said. Church felt his face fold into a scowl. He'd came all this way for this? Who the hell cared about his favorite color? He was a ghost, for Christ's sake! At least ask about, like, ghost stuff! Or something!