Amongst the monotony of the houses stood 3295 Bolten St. Large windows that stretched across two floors allowing in all the light one could use and then some. The white stone exterior was nearly unblemished even though it was a pre-war home. That normally meant that it was bound to have been bombed at one point or another.

  Records showed that the bombing raids had taken out the entire street save for this one house. The only damage was to the roof and it was a minor affair. The house boasted for a few years the grace of being known as The Miracle home. More than 30 years later and a new neighborhood built around it taking on its style. It was lost in the woods, hard to find one tree out of thousands.

  Nate received a brief on the home from Jeb. He’d let Nate know the aforementioned info. He apologized that his research didn’t come up with more than what he’d been told. Electing to not say who was the one to inform him of the information was unnerving.

  “I wanted to start with something mild. Just a simple one story home. Amongst our selection this one just seems to drive people away. Everyone who’s lived here since the raids had felt uneasy. Couldn’t tell you a reason why, but they do. Uh, I also found that it was used as a refuge during the war. Good luck.”

  He didn’t know much. Not that Nate was going to really count on what he’d said. He was wrong from the start of it being a single story. That didn’t even account for what Nate could see. If this was supposed to be a simple house then he shuddered to think what these “choice” homes would look like.

  Partially obstructing his view of the building, what could only be described as a gelatinous mass. The thing was the size of a hill squishing and squirming around the building. Nate wouldn’t have even entered if he didn’t have an idea of what it was.

  Before his mother passed he would fill his time by biking around the town. Directionless he would follow the aimlessly wandering spirits. One such occasion had led him out of town down by a lake. A mass of what he called spirit gunk was built up there. It was calling to the other spirits in the area. When the spirit he was following entered it grew in size.

  The spirit however did not vanish or become one with the gunk. Instead it congregated its visage animatedly socializing with the others. The gunk had expanded as it did so to accidentally envelop Nate. Leading him to find out that it wasn’t harmful. At least from the limited time he was within its mass.

  Knowing the safety of the gunk he walked slowly sizing up the building. In his right hand was the still wrapped metal object. It was constantly expelling blood so the cloth was needed to prevent it from getting absolutely everywhere. To Nate it was confirmed cursed.

  With a small click the key went in and opened the front door. It revealed a quaint entryway with a small shoe and coat rack which were empty. At the end of the hall it turned left into what must be the main living room. Just before that it had a turn on the right side with a door. From the outside placement he guessed it might go to the garage.

  With a small amount of trepidation he stepped into the entry, the door closing snugly behind him. With a bit of small prayer the lights worked as he flipped them on. Yellow incandescent light bouncing around the corner, fought against the sun in the room just beyond. Venturing into the garage it was bare and plain as most would be expected to be.

  Traveling down the hall he entered the living room. Unlike the entry which still held a few furniture pieces, the living room to Nate's surprise was bare. For that matter he had still yet to see a ghost or spirit. In the last case they had been absolutely teaming within the gunk. That last pile had been only half the size that was surrounding the house. There had been hundreds there.

  He took a moment looking out the large cathedral like windows. Marveling at just how this place didn’t get ravaged in the blasts. There must have been something truly special here for nothing to have been destroyed. He only let his mind wander for a moment. He had a task to do and delaying wouldn’t put more money in his pocket.

  The stairs were to the opposite side of the living room. It was an open floor plan into the kitchen toward the back of the house. He went there first. A stove that looked out of the 90’s or even 1950’s clearly beyond the age of the house, was sandwiched between marble counter tops. A large island in the center had a small basket of non-perishables, seeming meant for whoever was to buy it next.

  He gave the kitchen a quick once over. The back door leading outside and a door to what should be the pantry off to the right. He was going to skip it and head for the stairs when he heard a soft ruffling followed by a bout of sobbing. Gripping the weapon tightly in his right hand he approached the pantry door.

  *Sniff sniff sniffle*

  Taking in a final deep breath, he steadied himself for his first ghost battle. In his mind it would be epic and worth retelling. That's what he told himself. It was all he could do to not just quit and leave everything be. Afterall he loved a good fight.

  The door was taken hostage and pulled from its home. There inside Nate met with a fate worse than death. For a spirit was a thing to be pitied.

  A small child much younger than Teddy crouched in the corner. Dark black greasy looking hair and long gown. They were crying into their hands while wailing.

  “Mommy, where are you? It's so dark here. Why won’t the others play with me? What did I do?”

  Nate’s mouth twitched at the corners. He’d been prepared for angry spirits, but an upset child. He could of course tell it was a ghost, its ethereal nature not lost on him one bit. Unsure of how to proceed given it was just a child, he thought about maybe just stabbing it there. It would get it all over then and now. Teddy’s image came to his mind and couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  “Hey, brat, do you need help?”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He’d helped only one other spirit before. It hadn't exactly gone his way. Nate’s nature to never give up easily was in the spirits favor. The small child turned to look at him. Its face did not change into a demonic grin or howl with mystical laughter. This was no trick of a demonic being.

  In fact the child looked at him with surprise and disbelief. First, looking at Nate and then all around their surroundings. Looking back at Nate he made a questioning face. Pointing ghostly fingers at himself.

  “Are you talking to me sir?”

  The spirit asked half to Nate and half to itself unbelieving. Nate smiled softly, nodded and then repeated himself.

  “Do you need help?”

  He emphasized the you part, to make it clear who it was he was speaking to. With a start the child stood slowly and inspected Nate up and down. It didn't seem to make up its mind from the inspection.

  “How can you see me? Aren’t you alive?”

  “No idea. And yes I am.”

  Nate answered with a patient smile. If this went well maybe he wouldn’t have to fight. That would be better wouldn’t it? He questioned himself at his desire for battle, but focused on the child.

  “Do I need help? Yes. That's it, you can help me. The other spirits left me here and ran off. How mean just because I lost the game of tag.”

  His eyes grew watery and puffed up a bit as if to begin to wail once more. Nate without much thought took a step forward and took the child's hand. To both of their surprise he could hold it.

  “Can you take me back to my mom? She’s up there but the stairs are scary.”

  With a kind smile and a new worry of the coming steps Nate took the child's hand. Leading the child toward the steps. They were a light brown wood like the rest of the first floor. Nails jut from the wall where pictures of families once hung, now left abandoned.

  “So we just head up and then you’ll be back with your mom?”

  Nate asked still with the kid's hand in his.

  “Yeah, stairs are so scary.”

  The two ascended and as Nate braced himself. The child’s body shook with each step. Once the last step came and went they stood at the top, his gaze landing on the child. Nothing had happened and yet he had acted so afraid. His previously unsteady demeanor now vanished, a bright smile crossed his face. Rushing off toward the back of the house, Nate lost track of him.

  “He just has a fear of steps?”

  Nate whispered to himself in disbelief, a ghost afraid of stairs. It felt odder to him then even the events of the past few days. Trying to shake off the weird encounter, he began to look through the rooms. Yet, no more ghosts were to be found.

  Down the hall of the open balcony looking down on the living room was the master bed room. The same place that the child had slipped off too. Having found nothing else of note he made his way there.

  Unlike the rest of the house which was in relatively good condition the door hung loose previously broken. With little effort he shifted it to the side, entering to find what he’d expected from the start. A throng of spirits. Only now with the door moved he could hear the voices of chortles and cacophonously held hundreds of conversations at once.

  None of the hundreds seemed to take notice of Nate. It was very probable that they thought him unaware. That was except for a child who was pulling over a voluptuous woman who was dressed like a Nun. Long golden hair that mixed with the unseeable nature of spirits and the kindest of smiles. She must have been the mother that the child spoke of before.

  “Hello, sighted it seems you have helped one of my flock.”

  Her words echoed through the whole room. The others grew quiet listening intently. The only one seemingly uninterested was the child. He was in the middle of looking at other ghosts and sticking out his tongue. Supposedly those who’d left him down stairs.

  “It is nice to meet you. I was only doing what I felt was right.”

  Nate smiled wide, he found he was having a harder and harder time taking his eyes away from the Nun. A small amount of doubt filled his body. Was she doing something to him? Spirits weren’t necessarily meant to be trusted so easily.

  “Fear not child. I simply thank them for your grand help. What could I do to repay this hefty favor?”

  Her sweet voice rang out once more, he squinted his eyes with suspicion. He hadn’t done much, just helped the child ascend the steps. With a quizzical face he responded.

  “I don’t know if it's that great a help but if you could do something for me it would be nice.”

  “If it is within my power.”

  “I was asked to clear this home of spirits or, at the very least make it livable once more. Do you think you could find that acceptable?”

  At his words the smile which had hung on the Nuns face which was of the constant but un-genuine kind shifted. A true smile blossomed on her face as she stared at his eyes, she seemed to glow bright.

  “You know not what you have done. Yet, a simple task is asked in return. Knowledge of the beyond is often outside one's grasp even to one with sight. My flock was readied long ago, only one who had been lost. As it is no favor I shall grant you more than you need and no less than what is sought.”

  Nate made a confused face and the woman giggled. Her whole body moved in a laughing fit as if she’d seen the funniest thing in the world. The child at her side smiled, the room began to feel warm.

  With a blinking light the spirits one after another winked out of existence. A small spark travelling toward the ceiling and further out into the cosmos. Each person gave Nate a smile and departed. At the end only the child and the Nun remained.

  She approached him and found he could not move. At some point she’d transfixed him in place. He hadn’t realized till that moment, she was tremendously tall as if she filled the entire room. No as she drew closer she filled the skies and pulled it down.

  They were outside the sun swallowing clouds and drifting pieces of the night. Just beyond where she tore the world asunder was the end. Deep within that place where none are allowed the spirits traveled.

  Her lips touched his forehead and he was awake once more. How he ended up asleep he knew not. What he could remember was the ever expanding sky, the dripping stars and the suns all consuming rays bleeding into the cosmic darkness.

  Looking around he was in the kitchen on the ground outside the pantry, the door closed. The gunk which acted as almost a filter in his vision was no longer drifting in the air. Blinking slightly he reviewed his surroundings and opened the pantry door.

  There was no child. Out into the living room he looked toward the steps. Those too had gone. The windows in front did not stretch to the second floor simply encompassing the first floor wall. There was no second floor.

  He reached up and touched his forehead. On his fingers was a small amount of lipstick.