048 - slasher
Jeff looked into the mirror. Only his own reflection was staring back at him. So why was he so intensely certain that he was not alone in his room?
The feelings had first come over him shortly after moving into his new residence at 643 Washington Place. There had been rumors that the house was haunted, and Jeff suspected that this was perhaps the reason he was able to secure such a great price. The residents of this town had always been a pretty superstitious bunch.
Jeff never had such qualms, though, so he gladly accepted the incredible bargain and moved on in. Almost immediately thereafter, weird things started happening. Things Jeff couldn't quite explain. Doors opening themselves, food disappearing, and mysterious noises.
He was willing to chalk it up to the fact that he was new at living here. Perhaps he had the left the door open, and just forgot. And he had just misplaced the food, it was possible. Or perhaps he never had it to start with, after all he didn't exactly keep detailed track of how many pop tarts he had left. He was just certain that he had more than the amount left now. Well, almost certain.
The sounds were probably just the wind. Or perhaps there were some vermin scampering along hidden, tiny passages within the walls. Jeff figured that would certainly account for the missing food, as well.
So he put out traps, and tried to be more aware of what he had left opened and what he had closed. Time passed. The traps laid empty, the wind had not been particularly strong, and Jeff had taken to counting his pop tarts. Weird things were still afoot.
Jeff was reluctant to do so, but on the advice of a friend, he finally decided to consult a psychic, one by the name of Madame Goiselle. She was supposedly highly respected in her field, although admittedly Jeff knew very little about said field. She assured him that she could find out what was happening in his dwelling.
Jeff invited her into his home on the day of the appointment, and immediately, as she crossed the threshold, Madame Goiselle came alive. "Oh, Jeffery," which was not his name, "There is certainly a spirit living in this house!"
She was delighted. Madame Goiselle set up her seance equipment on Jeff's dining room table, and soon the seance itself was under away. Jeff watched on apprehensively as the woman did her work.
"I'm getting a feeling of...a lost soul. A lost soul that has been confined in this house for too long, Jeffery." She smiled, looking up at Jeff. "He wants to talk to you, Jeffery. Would you like to?"
"Um, sure, okay." Jeff paused. "Uh, ...hello? Mister spirit?" he said cautiously.
"Hey Jeff, what's up?" said a loud, booming voice, seemingly coming from plain air. Jeff was somewhat startled, but Madame Goiselle was unfazed. "I don't know? What's, uh, up with you?"
"Ah you know, nothing special. Just hanging around as usual," the voice responded.
"Um, who are you? Why are you haunting my house?"
"Me? I'm a volcano spirit, Jeff. I thought you knew that."
"Volcano spirit? What? And how would I know that?" Jeff wondered. The voice answered him. "Yeah, I'm the spirit of a dead volcano. You know, all volcanoes have spirits. But when our lava stops flowing, I believe as you human calls it, we go 'extinct,' then the spirit is free to roam the earth."
"So why here?" Jeff asked.
"Seemed like a nice place. Why, you got a problem with it?" the volcano spirit asked. "No," Jeff responded meekly. "Not really. It's just..."
"Yeah?" The volcano spirit asked.
"Could you stop eating my pop tarts?"