As it turned out, finding a specific room in a mansion that you had only lazily explored was quite a bit harder than it was in theory. First of all, most of the rooms on his floor were actually locked. The ghost had told him that she hadn’t been in every room before, and he had assumed it was because she just wasn’t interested.

  As it turned out, she physically couldn’t go into any room that was locked. Including his own bedroom, he could have had privacy all this time, which, now that he thought about it, he had when he did take a bath. She never entered the room because he had locked it out of habit each time he enjoyed the magically heated waters.

  After checking every door on the second floor, and finding that more than half of them were locked, the ones that weren’t being either studies or bedrooms, he moved down to the first floor.

  He ignored the door below the stairs that went into the kitchen and instead went into the door that would seemingly have a hallway opposite the one that led to the grand study.

  He subconsciously also realised he would have to start using different names for all the rooms. It was hard to keep track, even mentally, of all the rooms they were going through.

  For her part, the ghost had shown him what it looked like when she tried entering a closed room, and then hadn’t said anything after that. Just following him in quiet companionship as he slowly felt some panic overtake him.

  As it turned out, the door on the right-hand side of the stairs did lead to a hallway. But a rather cramped one that was meant to be used by servants. There were not furnishings, barely even a carpet. And at the first door, he opened it to one of the smallest rooms he had ever seen.

  It had one bed against the wall, a window at exactly head height, and a small desk that shared a wall with the closet space. It was meant for someone who only spent their nights in the room and nothing else.

  He closed it and looked down the hallway, which was lit up by small windows atop each doorway. It looked gloomy and cramped, and the more he looked at it, the more he felt something was wrong.

  Mainly, it was too short. He knew how long the hallways to the grand study were, and he also knew that as he had entered it, there was a small sitting area, where he had stumbled onto the magic circle.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  But if his internal map, which he didn’t trust, was correct, he should be seeing a piece of the room in this hallway.

  Instead, after three more small rooms, the hallways just stopped at a brick wall, one that seemed oddly ominous in the gloom of the servant's hall.

  Turning back out and going through the main doorway into the hallway, the one next to the fireplace in the foyer, he started counting the doors.

  Unlike the hallway leading to the ballroom, this one had only a few doors on his right-hand side, which made him stop dead in his tracks.

  Going back to the servant's hallways, he looked at the length, and then back to the main hallway. He could have sworn he had seen several doorways when he had run this way, away from the ghost girl.

  He turned to her, still floating slightly off to his side.

  “Were there doors on this side of the wall before?”

  She bobbed up and down, putting her index finger to her mouth as she thought, “Not that I remember, this side of the mansion has always been hard for me to use. Only the binding circle ever stuck with me.”

  He scratched his chin, feeling some stubble there that pricked his hand; he’d have to do something about that, too. “So you don’t find this entire wall strange or out of place?”

  She shook her head and then tried to phase through the nearest wall. There was the usual resistance she got from the upstairs closed doors, and then suddenly, a large blue sigil lit up the entire wall.

  Before he could think of why, he grabbed her arm and yanked her back, surprised by two things.

  First, the sigil flared dangerously. It went from blue and interesting-looking to a deep, dark red that he remembered seeing in every anime he used to watch to denote danger.

  Second, despite being a ghost, her arm was solid, warm, and surprisingly soft in his grip. He realised this because as he yanked her back, she stopped floating.

  Instead, she came tumbling down into him, and they both fell against the hallway wall opposite the now fading sigil.

  He felt her weight on his chest and looked down at her face. He would have sworn she was blushing if he didn’t know any better. Slowly, he got up and, trying to be nice, he helped her up. Her hands were also soft, warm, and surprisingly small in his.

  “Uh, sorry, didn’t think, just knew you had to get away from that.” He said as she slowly started floating next to him, again.

  “Thanks.” Was all she said and he decided not to push it further. It was weird that she was able to blush. It was weird he could touch her. It was exceedingly worrying to him that he felt some joy in feeling her body against his.

  Stamping down the side of him he had long kept on a leash made of steel, he looked towards the grand study.

  “Okay, I don’t know what that was, but it seemed like something that would be around a portal room.” He said and then promptly set off towards the door.

  Deciding, almost diplomatically, that he was going to ignore the entire incident apart from the magically glowing wall.

  Thaddeus “Bennie” Poundsworth learnt on his ninth day that not only were ghost girls not the undead he had heard stories about. But they were also soft, warm, and cute when they blushed.

  Basic Sock Puppets:

  J.R. Timmerman

  Christo M

  Free Members:

  Scarlett Dawn

  Lisa M

  Author daily question: ....

  So if I eventually get comments this is where you all can find answers! Feel free to ask me ANY questions in the comments and I will choose a few to answer...

  My favourite colour has become Purple, forest green, and orange-ish