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"Can you say creepy?"
Mitchell chuckled but had to agree. This was a poster child for 'haunted house' if he'd ever seen one. The estate agent may believe a quick clean, fresh coat of paint and new carpets would pull this place together, but there was obviously something much deeper and more entrenched here. They were surrounded by decay, grime and debris, and a stagnant heaviness lay in the air. But the three of them were clearly more beggars than choosers, and this was their last resort.
He moved into the next room, the staircase making it look like a displaced foyer, leaving George alone with the agent to hopefully keep her occupied with sensible questions for a few minutes. He picked his way through the detritus toward an old, soiled armchair at the foot of the stairs.
"Annie?"
"Tell me you don't actually expect us to live here."
She popped into view just in front of him, arms crossed, disapproval and disgust etched on her normally bright face.
"This is the last one on the list. If not here, then where?"
"That first place wasn't too bad."
"Yeah, if you don't mind living with a colony of rats."
"That house near the river?"
"Impractical for George's time of the month."
"He could start using the woods again."
"We all agreed. Right now that would be much too dangerous."
"I don't want to share."
"Share? What are you ..." Mitchell's voice rose slightly in frustration as he walked away from her. "Where are we supposed to go? I know this place is a pit. Other than not falling down around our heads, it doesn't have any redeeming qualities whatsoever."
"Hey!"
Mitchell whipped around and saw Annie pointing accusingly toward the wardrobe. "I don't want to share," she growled, pulling the door open to reveal a young man crouching inside. He stood abruptly, knocking most of the hangars onto the floor.
"Who the hell are you?" Mitchell shouted, jumping back slightly.
"Mitchell?" George's tremulous voice trailed in behind the estate agent who'd just rushed into the room.
"Is someone in here?" she asked, quickly scanning the space.
"Only me." Mitchell turned his 100-watt smile on her. "I was just thinking aloud, arguing with myself."
"Arguing?"
"Yeah, you know. 'Who are you to be so picky!' That kind of thing," he replied, steering her out of the room while giving George a pointed look to stay and sort this out.
George, Annie and the man in the cupboard stood looking at each other for a long moment, George's mouth working to form words that wouldn't come out.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Annie jumped in, motioning vehemently toward the floor. "Get out of the wardrobe."
The man cautiously stepped out into the room, dragging his hands through his hair before folding his arms then quickly shifting to clasp his hands behind his back to keep from fidgeting. He had an angular face, looked to be in his 20s, and was dressed in boardshorts and a t-shirt as if he was spending a day at the beach.
"Hey."
"Uh, yes, hello," George replied. "Who are you?"
"I'm Luke, and you?"
"I'm George, this is Annie, and our friend is Mitchell. Um, been dead long?"
"George!" Annie snapped. "So, Luke, why were you hiding in a cupboard?"
"I like cupboards."
"Are you saying you were just hanging out in there? For fun or something?"
"Maybe he was looking for Narnia." George giggled, then stifled it with a cough when Annie glared at him.
"I like to organize them. Keep 'em tidy."
"Oh! Like you and tea, Annie."
"That's nothing like making tea."
"It's another home-y kind of thing, what your mum might do for you. Is that like a ghost trait or something?"
"Anyway, just now you weren't de-cluttering, you were hiding. Why?"
"I knew you were a ghost the minute you came in so I dove in there. Didn't really want to talk to someone invading my home. But how come they can see me?"
"Well, Mitchell's a vampire and George is a werewolf. You know, supernaturals."
"You're joking." Luke gaped at George. "For real? Every full moon and you go all ..." He flailed his hands around his face for a minute then turned his fingers into claws and howled.
"Yes, that's exactly what it's like," George deadpanned. "God, we have seriously strayed off topic here. We are planning on renting this house so we need to work out some kind of arrangement."
"What if I don't want you here?"
"Sorry, but we are not going to pass on a house because the resident ghost wants to live there alone. And Annie, before you object, we don't really have a choice. It's this place or a bus shelter; take your pick. We're just going to have to cohabit for a little while."
Annie and Luke looked at each other for a minute, quietly and deliberately assessing the other. Mitchell stepped back in, looking over his shoulder to make sure the estate agent wasn't following.
"So are we square here?" he asked, looking from one to the other.
"It might be nice to have company for a change," Luke said, "people to talk to."
"And maybe we can help you cross over," Annie added. "Figure out your unfinished business."
"I've run out of ideas, but it's worth a shot."
"George?" Mitchell clasped his shoulder and gave him a little shake.
"Yeah, it's good. Luke doesn't seem like a bad guy. Although, I'm not sure how you could accurately assess that in five minutes."
"I'm not going to kill you in your sleep, George."
"Thank you, that's very reassuring."
"What do you think, Mitchell?" Annie asked, crossing over to him.
"Well, we're out of options so I'm easy. Besides, what's one more ghost around the house."
"Well here we are. One big happy family." Annie beamed, bouncing a little on her toes, all the while thinking if she said it enough, eventually it would be true.