The Graveyard Shift

“Your turn,” Ted declares.

“No,” Jim protests, “I did it last time.”

A huff precedes Jim’s move – an eight of spades. Ted smirks, laying down his ace. While they play, dragging out their War, investigators bustle outside.

“Oh, fine.”

Jim stands with translucent limbs. Floating by the windows, he gives a ghoulish moan that terrifies today’s visitors. They scatter as Ted chuckles. Jim frowns.

“Haunting houses just isn’t what it used to be.”