The ghost followed. It didn’t make a sound, merely floated at a pace that was just a bit faster than walking, its long cloth-like robes fluttering in an invisible wind behind it as it trailed after me. Still, that look on its face, of indescribable rage and anger never faded, and the soft white glow of its eyes locked onto me and didn’t let go.

  I ran back through the cra the wall, then back down the passage. I hoped that it wouldn’t follow, but that was dashed when first a hand, then an arm started to push through the wall. The ghost glowed faintly, especially where it hasing through.

  Still, the motion slowed it down.

  “Rarr,” Bonsey said as I stumbled past him and into the office. Something, I needed something to hurt the ghost. I ran out with a bottle of wihat flew through the ghost’s form and smashed against a wall uselessly, the stick--once a chair leg--that I threw did the same.

  I looked around, then picked up Bonesy’s head. “Bite him!” I said as I flung the skeletal head at my adversary.

  Bonesy ‘rawred’ as he flew through the air, then, muy surprise and that of the ghost, the skeletal head ped down on the ghost’s face. “Rarg, ragr, rarre,” Bonesy said as he chewed.

  I stared, then it clicked. Bonesy was magic. Magic worked on ghosts. It was all rather obvious.

  Running into the barracks, I passed the beds and moved into the bathroom. The showerhead glyph was stu a metallic basket above, ohat wasn’t meant to be pried out of the wall, but I had desperation on my side. It came off with a g and ch, leavih a rusty metal basket and a magical, faintly lumi stone in it that was still dripping water onto the ground.

  The ghost had freed itself from Bonesy’s mouthy grasp but not without suffering from my boney friend’s cruel ministrations. There were tears in its ghostly form, and whitish vapour out of it.

  I edged closer to the ghost, hoping to slip by it, but the evil-no-good monster blocked my path and spread its arms out as if to give me the deadest hug ever.

  “I’m sorry!” I said as I held the showerhead before me. “I just wao say hi.”

  The ghost didn’t care, he, it, just advane.

  I clocked it in the jaw with my magical showerhead.

  The ghost wavered in the air, its face distorted, the auro pain for a moment before returning tenfold. It swiped at me, but I ducked and moved so that a bed was between us. Its swipe cwed through the mattress with ease.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said again as I moved up to the ghost and swiped through its entire body with the shower head from head to crotch. There was some resistance... then nothing.

  The ghost split apart, both halves smoking as it turned into a fine white dust that spread across the floor.

  I sneezed.

  Ding! gratutions, you have murdered ‘Sentinel Ghost of Threewells by Darkwood’ Level 1! Bonus Exp was granted for brutally killing a monster above your level!

  “M-murdered?” I repeated before I tried to grab the box. “That wasn’t murder, it was self-defence! Self-defence! Where’s my jury of peers?”

  “Rar?” Bonsey asked.

  “You don’t t.” I snapped back; then I regretted it. Bonesy had helped a lot. “Sorry. I’m a bit stressed.”

  I brought my showerhead with me as I moved around, now vigint for any ghosts. The Sentinel Ghost hadn’t seemed all that good at guarding really, but maybe there were more and maybe they patrolled. I would have to sleep with one eye open.

  Still, I had learned a few important lessons:Ghosts weren’t magic resistant at all.They were also scary.Bonesy’s bites were serious busihis pce robably called Threewells by Darkwood.A level one ghost was nearly strong enough to end my adventuring career.

  I o hurry up and level up. Get out there and face the music. Find mhosts and murd-- se their poor souls.

  Yup.

  That’s what I o do.

  “Hey, Bonesy, you wouldn’t mind if I ed up around here, right? Right, of course not.” Grinding a skill was also a perfectly valid way of spending my time, of course. It was a nice, soothing a and it in no way reminded me that I had almost turned into a ghost myself.

  I started with the papers, moving all of them to the chest in the barracks that looked the least worn. They might end up staying dry for longer in there, in case anyone ever wao read them. I inteo go over them myself, but I would them outside for the light and.... Later, maybe.

  I used the broom and mop as makeshift dusters and ended up sneezing up a storm as the room filled with age-old clouds of dust. By the time I was done and my sneezing fits stopped, I was greeted by a floating box.

  gratutions! Through repeated as your ing skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!Rank E is a free rank!

  A free rank? I thought about my ing skill, and low and behold the menu for it appeared.

  ingRank F - 100%The ability to . As this skill rises in level your ability to will improve!This ability is ready to rank up.

  Do you wish to increase ing to Rank E?

  “Sure?” I tried.

  gratutions! ing is now Rank E!

  I bli the new box and reopehe skill to see the ge.

  ingRank E - 0%The ability to . Your profid instincts for liness have improved! faster, better.

  “O-kay,” I said. That was nice, I supposed. I hoped that ing was one of those skills that was versatile. I had to my clothes too at some point, and maybe take a shower ter. Still, the progress was nice. I swept all the dust I had kicked up into a pile, then used a file folder to scoop it into one of the chests that was now a garbage chest.

  Then, out came the showerhead and mop and bucket. The spray was... weak, and my mana ticked down fairly quickly while using it, but it still gave me enough water to start scrubbing the floor.

  An hour had passed, maybe more, before I g my skills page again.

  ingRank E - 06%

  So, about five pert for one room. Which meant... not much. Slower than Rank F, which wasn’t too surprising. Shrugging, I looked over the office area. It was far from perfect. There were wet streaks on the ground and I couldn’t do anything about the broken furniture, but it looked like it had been aba year instead of a decade or five ago.

  Oh well.

  The barracks were , thehroom where I pinched my nose and wished for a nice pair of tex gloves as I ed around the wooden trine hole. At least with the passing of decades anything... biodegradable, had rotted away to nothing.

  I wiped the sweat off my brow and looked over the newly ed room. There wasn’t much I could do about the mattresses, though I had found ohat was filled with a slightly less moldy filling. If I really o sleep here, I could use that bed. Maybe.

  Shrugging, I turned my efforts to the floor above, though there was little I could do in the armory except smash the wood into kindling and stack it ly before mopping up the floor.

  ingRank E - 14%

  I stared at the skills page for a while, then dismissed it. The sun had passed its zenith and was falling now, the skies not yet turning the yelle of mid-day, but approag it fast. That was fiotally okay.

  I wasn’t afraid of the dark.

  I was afraid of the ghosts living... unliving in it.

  “Oh boy,” I said. ing was all well and good, but all I was doing reparing a nice spot for my body to y. That, and I was hungry. The lukewarm water from the showerhead was handy, but it wouldn’t fill my tummy up. “I need a on,” I said.

  I turowards Bonesy. The skeletal head was resting on one of the desks, mouth w to chew through a piece of rotting wood with wet, mushy noises.

  “Any ideas?” I asked the head.

  “Rrr.”

  “Yeah. I ’t exactly stick the shower head at the end of a stid call it a mace. Your head would be a much better on.”

  I blinked.

  There was some twine ying around, and cloth that could be used as rope. There was even a broken spear from the armory, more of a length of wood with a metal cap on the end than anything else, but it was usable.

  I got creative!

  Nearly an hour and two almost-chewed fier, I had a brand neon!

  “Wraare!” Bonesy said from his pce of pride at the end of my spear. The shaft was stuck through the hole for his spine and into his braincase, and I'd ed him in strips of cloth to keep him from rattling around. I didn't want to blind him, though, so I left a gap for his glowing eyes to gre out of.

  “I shall dub this on... The staff of Bonesy! No, that’s silly. The Ghostbuster? The boick? The boner club?” I flushed. “Not that st one.”

  “Rrrr,” Bonesy agreed.

  Thus armed, I prepared myself to explore once more. My trusty showerhead in my haversack, my Bonesy sti one hand and all my prayers in mind as I stepped out into the fading daylight.

  No ghosts in sight.

  I moved slowly around the buildings again, tiptoeing as quietly as I could while taking iown. The homes were in rough shape, but could probably have been renovated and repaired with a bit of love and care. I bet there was a Carpentry skill out there somewhere.

  As I rouhe er, I took in a little pza with a few smaller homes and a big stone well in the middle. There were more homes than I had initially realized, maybe twenty or twenty-five in all.

  It wasn’t until I was nearing the main road that I saw the sed ghost.

  This one looked rather pitiful, floating o the ground, its cloth-like flesh... stuff, all torn up. It seemed to be moving around in a big circle at a slow, shuffling pace. I didn’t want to fight it, I really didn’t.

  “Hey there, Mister Ghosty,” I said.

  The ghost's floating stopped and it slowly turowards me. Its dull eyes searched around then locked onto me. It frowned.

  “I don’t mean any trouble,” I said before raising both hands up in surrender.

  The ghost charged.

  Well, charge implies rapid movement. The ghost shambled forward like a pstic shopping bag on a windless afternoon. “I’m sorry.” I said as I bo on the head with Bonesy.

  The ghost hit the ground and sort of spttered into dust.

  I sneezed again, then looked around to see if anyone or anything had heard. There was only a new box to greet me.

  Ding! gratutions, you have plotted and successfully carried out the homicide of ‘Sentinel Ghost of Threewells by Darkwood’ Level 1! Bonus Exp was granted for killing a monster above your level!

  “No,” I squeaked before my hand spped ay mouth. “It wasn’t homicide, I swear,” I said.

  “Rrre,” Bonesy accused.

  “No,” I squeaked again.

  Looking down, I noticed a bit of cloth left on the ground, cloth that shimmered lightly. A poke with my foot didn’t do anything except move it about. I carefully picked it up. A loot drop? Iing it revealed nothing, but it did shimmer with a certaihereal quality. I slid it into my haversad picked my Bonesy stick up again.

  There were ghosts around, and no telephoo call the Ghostbusters, which left no o little old me to take care of things.

  I whimpered.