TWH: Word Prompt Challenges

Haunting the Hampton House

The prompt: A werewolf, a witch, and a walking corpse

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Elliot and Frank sort of saved one another. Long story, and neither can be relied upon to tell it well in its entirety. Each claim the other brought them back into the world, back from the brink. Maybe both are right. Maybe neither.

If you'd asked him, Frank would have said he was doing alright for himself. Wasn't a happy existence but he was getting by. El knew him for what he was the moment she met him - and how she came to be there was a fabulous story, one that tended to change every time she told it. This week's iteration was that she blew into town in a swirl of sage and spices and saw him right off, the werewolf living smack in the center of the little town, and absolutely damn miserable about it. Furball's logic was to hide in plain sight, even if the small town smells filled his head and left him with migraines.

[Oh and don't get them started about how long it took to solidify their friendship. Or the decision to refurbish the old Hampton place before moving out there. Nobody has the time for that rambling story. Condensed version: elbow grease, far too many cleanses, etc etc blah blah blah. Point is he stopped walking around with his shoulders hunched forward like he was waiting to fend off blows, his face scrunched into a scowl, and she was able to utilize one of the many rooms for her late night festivities - and they still had room to spare.]

Everything was going real well until she found the corpse. Stashed where he was, condition he was in, phases of the moon... someone had put two and two together and was trying to frame Frank. Not on El's watch. Nope. Nuh-uh.

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He doesn't much like the idea of her playing around this time of year, especially in these critical few days, but her impulsive streak is not something to be reckoned, or reasoned, with. She's a witch and she does what she likes.

"They thought they were gonna get away with it." Ellie hasn't stopped moving, or talking, since laying the poor soul out on the table. Tall and weighing deceptively more than you'd think - of course dead weight always did - the man took up the entire length of the extended surface. She has her head tilted to one side, looking down at the bloody mess like it's something else entirely. Being fair, Frank's come back to the house looking similarly worse for wear. "Stuffing him down there like that. Lucky for him, I noticed. Lucky for us, I'm a witch!"

Frank restrains himself at the last second, only emitting a half snort.

Ellie jumps into a sudden flurry of movement. "This is fabulous. Oh, oh, I'm so excited!"

"We have a dead man in our den and you're... excited." Frank can't decide if it's amusing or frightening, or a blend of both. "When that smell sinks in..." He wrinkles his nose for a second to accompany his words of warning.

"Ah," she waves a bundle of spices in his direction before dropping them on the tabletop near the dead man's shoulder, spying something else she needs to collect for whatever task has her suddenly grinning. "But he won't!"

"He won't?"

"Nope. Won't be dead for much longer, either."

Frank stands up a bit straighter, eyes going wide. This is where her impulsive streak gets dangerous. "El, you can't be serious!"

She gives him a distracted nod, her mind whirling fifteen steps ahead of where they are currently. "I've always wanted to try. You don't just come across bodies you want to reanimate every day of the week. Well..." She blinks, turning to him and offering up one of those sharp smiles that raise his hackles, "Most people never do, but we're not most people, are we?"