#phantom tickles

Lee had just come home after a long, exhausting day at work. The moment he stepped through the door, he kicked off his shoes and sighed, sinking into his couch. It was a quiet evening, just the way he liked it after a chaotic day in the office. He set his briefcase down, rubbed his tired eyes, and walked into his bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

But something felt... off.

The room was cold. Not just the usual chilly air from the drafty window, but a strange, sudden chill that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. The lights flickered above, and he shivered as a soft whisper seemed to echo through the room. Lee frowned. Was it the wind? Or... something else?

Before he could investigate further, a light, playful poke landed on his ribs. He flinched and whipped around, eyes wide, but no one was there.

"Who's there?" he called, his voice trembling slightly. His heart raced.

Another poke, this time on his side, just below his ribs. Lee jumped and spun again, but there was still no one in sight. His pulse quickened. Okay, this is either a prank, or... He glanced at the door, half-expecting someone to step out from behind it.

But there was no one.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Alright, I must be losing it," he muttered. "No one’s here."

Suddenly, the tickling sensation returned—this time, a gentle, yet persistent prod on the bottom of his feet. Lee gasped, pulling his feet up onto the bed instinctively. "Gaha!! What in the world?" he exclaimed, his heart hammering in his chest.

As he sat there, trying to make sense of it all, he felt a soft, cold breath on his neck. A shiver ran down his spine. And then—there it was again—a light tickle on his stomach.

It wasn’t a prank. And it wasn’t just his imagination.

"Who's doing this?" he demanded, but his voice had a nervous edge. "I don’t want any trouble. If you're here to mess with me, you’re gonna have to—" His words were interrupted by another burst of ticklish sensations, this time along his sides.

"Ahahha hehehey!!"

He squealed in surprise, trying to dodge the invisible fingers. The sensation was odd, almost soothing in its playfulness, but it was also unsettling. He was definitely not imagining this. As the tickling continued, his anxiety slowly began to ebb, replaced by the bizarre sensation of a weird, reluctant enjoyment.

“Okahahay!” he laughed, his defenses crumbling. "That's enohuhough!! Plehehehehease!"

But the ghost wasn’t listening. The tickling became more persistent, gentle yet relentless—poking, prodding, and tickling in all the right places. It was as if the ghost was trying to tease him, to get him to laugh. Lee couldn’t help it. Despite the fear in his chest, he burst into laughter, the tension leaving his body in waves.

"Nahahaha I cahahan't!!" he gasped, squirming and wriggling on the bed, trying to escape the playful, invisible fingers.

The ghost seemed to pause, as if waiting for a response. Lee, catching his breath, had to admit he was... enjoying this. It’s kind of fun, he thought, as weird as it is.

“Alright, alrihihihight, you’ve had your fuhuhun,” he said between laughs, trying to get a grip on himself. “I guess... I guess you're not so bad after all.”

The tickling stopped. And for a moment, everything was still.

Then, unexpectedly, a soft chuckle filled the room, light and airy, like a playful whisper in the air. Lee shivered once more—but this time, it was more out of curiosity than fear.

“Well,” he said, grinning at the odd sensation of being tickled by a ghost, “I guess we’re friends now, huh?”

The ghost didn’t respond verbally, but there was a warmth to the air around him, a playful energy that made Lee smile, even as he wiped away the tears of laughter from his eyes. And from that night on, every time Lee came home from work, the ghost was there, waiting for him to enjoy another round of playful tickles.