closed with @benjaminrook​ at the fisherman’s house. time is fake. don’t worry about it
It had been a calm day and was shaping up to be a calm night. Perfect for spearfishing lessons, and swimming, and now that night had fallen, verifying just how haunted it was. Lily smiled as she lit one of the healthier-looking candles, their only source of light besides the moon.
The house groaned and her smile widened just a little bit. She turned toward Ben. Most of the house had been cleared out, stripped even of sheets and curtains, leaving behind furniture too large to carry and the map that was tacked across the wall, peppered with marks. The high tide had come in already, and they had about several hours until low tide started.
“There,” she said, walking over to the bed—sheetless, pillow-less, mostly just a mattress—and putting the taper on the end table next to it. “Now we’re not completely in the dark. You think we’ll meet any ghosts?”
