#ghost pred

At first you had wondered why the house had been so cheap. Yes, it was old and in need of some refurbishments, but you didn’t mind that at all. The realtor had told you that many people had complaints of noise, and other things that they refused to disclose. Yes, the atmosphere was a bit eerie, and there were some weird groaning noises coming from the pipes at night, but you could adapt.

But then it became more than just pipes. Sometimes the faucets ran with blood red liquid. The flowers out in the garden seemed to hiss and snap at you. When you got out of the shower, you’d find messages like “GET OUT” and “LEAVE” written on the mirror. There was no doubt that a previous occupant was not happy that you were here. But you didn’t care. Ghost or not, there was no way you were moving back to your dingy old apartment.

One night, you found yourself unable to rest. That eerie atmosphere had been intensifying all week, and throughout the day you felt like you were being watched, glared at. Dread slowly crept through you, fear seeping into your bones, and you couldn’t understand why.

Your bedroom door suddenly swung open. You gasped, pulling the covers up to your face, daring to peek. There was a man standing there; he had handsome, sharp features and a somewhat chubby belly. He wore a top hat that paired perfectly with his Victorian era suit, and a scowl on his face.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” he muttered, marching up to you. “But that ends tonight!” You shook your head, your voice caught in your throat. The gentleman had an otherworldly glow about him, and his hands were like a freezing mist as he grasped your shoulders, devoid of the warmth of life. “This has worked on everyone before you, no reason it should fail now.”

“W-Wait-!” you cried out, watching with wide eyes as he lunged forward, easily engulfing your head in his mouth. Unfortunately he wasn’t as incorporeal as he looked, and your hopes that you would phase right through him were snuffed out as ectoplasmic saliva dripped down your cheek. The specter kept a tight hold on you, gripping your arms as he forced your head and shoulders into his flexible throat.

You whimpered as you slid down the ghostly gentleman’s gullet inch by inch. It was now crystal clear why all the other buyers had left. You couldn’t blame them now…your panicking mind was racing. Would this angry specter have mercy on you? Were you about to be digested by a dead man? Your legs kicked wildly, but your devourer wasn’t bothered at all. He held onto your hips, his belly expanding as your legs were slurped down with frightening efficiency.

As the ghost’s belly rounded out, you found that you could actually see out into your bedroom. You reached out, vainly hoping that you could push your arm through to the outside. But your hand pressed against a gooey stomach wall, refusing to yield enough for you to break free. Your legs joined you in the slimy pouch, forcing you to curl up within. You sat in shock, gingerly pushing around. Your struggles soon picked up, intensifying with your urge not to stew within this man’s otherworldly guts.

“Why are you doing this?!” you cried, pushing against the walls of your slimy, spectral prison. “I didn’t mean any harm!” The ghost pressed down on you and scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t…You’d just be gutting our home, tearing everything we cherished apart and forcing us to endure years of our afterlife putting up with you and your rowdy activities!” he growled. He glared down at you through his clear stomach walls, making you meekly shrink back.

“N-no, I wasn’t going to do that…hell, I can’t even afford to do that…” you said softly, shivering. “If I wanted that, I would have just moved to the city. I really do like this place…”

The specter fell silent, a hand resting over your form. He mulled over your words, his harsh gaze gradually softening the more he looked over you. You seemed genuine, just confused and scared. He’d swallowed and scared away plenty of other residents, but this time guilt was starting to creep in.

“Oh…perhaps I judged you too soon…I apologize…” he said, carefully rubbing over you. “I won’t chase you out, then. As long as you don’t mind living with ghosts.” Relief instantly swept over you. You sighed, laying back within his gut.

“So…you’ll let me out?” You asked. You felt safer now, especially since you didn’t feel any tingling or other signs of digestion. It was just horribly slimy, and just a bit chilly. Not to mention sticky too…but you could actually get used to this otherwise.

“Yes…in the morning. I’ll even help you wash the ectoplasm out of your clothes,” he said. “My name is Garrett, by the way. We can talk more in the morning.” Garrett laid back, pulling the blanket up over his full belly. “I think my husband will like you.”