Not the Haunting you were Expecting

                Steve stepped into the hallway off the bedroom. He yawned and scratched his right butt cheek as he walked. His bare foot stepped forward and slipped in a thick goo on the hardwood floor. Steve fell backwards and landed hard on his lower back in a puddle of greenish-yellow mucus.

                “Ah, what the hell,” he cried out.

                He carefully lifted himself up and turned on the hallway light. The floor was covered with a layer of thick disgusting snot-like slime.

                “What the…,” he said to himself.

                A strange laughter filled the house followed by what sounded like someone throwing up after a long party, which was then followed by more laughter, evil laughter.

                “Honey, are you okay,” asked Steve’s wife from the bedroom.

                “Don’t come out here babe. It’s ah….not…uh…safe…,” said Steve.

                Steve carefully stepped around the thick puddles and made his way downstairs. The living room and dining area were awash in greenish-yellow and brown smeared gunk. There were also empty bottles of beer and Steve’s tequila that he’d won at the bowling raffle two weeks ago was also open and empty. The cabinets were all open and there were Cheesy Snacks spilled all over the counters.

                “Oh Jesus,” said Steve as he moved toward the open kitchen door.  He slipped again in the mess on the floor but stayed on his feet.  He steadied himself in the doorway and blinked in disbelief. At the refrigerator, hovering in front of the open door was a ghost. A ghost right out of the cartoons, a ghost in a white sheet with two black holes for eyes, staggered backwards.

                “You’re… you’re outta, out of, the beer…dick,” slurred the Ghost and it vanished.

                Steve slid back against the kitchen doorframe to the floor. He made the sigh of the Cross across his chest and hugged himself. The relator told him this house had a strange past, but the price was so right he just didn’t even care. It was such a steal.

                “Holy Jesus,” shouted Steve’s wife, Miranda, from the hallway, “What is going on?”

               

                Steve stood up, steadied himself for his wife’s wrath, and went to the bottom of the stairs.

                “Honey, love of my life. I’m pretty sure our house is…haunted,” said Steve.

                “Haunted, haunted with what? This is just, just so much puke up here,” she said.

               

                Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. He remembered the Relator’s warning about the old Fraternity that used to rent the house. They got shut down when too many pledges and staff were dying from alcohol poisoning and some sort of hazing with goats. Steven rubbed his chin.

                “How are we going to clean this up, Steve,” shouted Miranda.

                “I’ll take care of it baby. You go ahead and get ready for work. I’ll… I’ll make a few calls,” said Steve.

                Miranda went to the bathroom and felt like she was in that completely illegal scene from Revenge of the Nerds when the Llamba’s broke into the girls dorm and illegally set up video cameras and started filming the female residents like some sort of deranged stalkers.  She couldn’t believe anyone in the 1980’s thought that was okay. It was such a violation of privacy. All those Nerds should have been arrested and sent to prison and then register as sex offenders when they finally were released. She cringed as she toweled off. She could swear she could hear a snicker from somewhere.

                She quickly dressed and headed back downstairs. Steve was trying to use a snow shovel to push the thick mucus off the kitchen floor.

                “I’ll be home by 7:00, all this,”  she pointed around the room “is gone when I come home or we’re leaving and never coming back.”

                “Yes my darling,” said Steve.

                Miranda left the house and couldn’t shake the creepiness of all those ghost eyes probably ogling her naked flesh. She shivered as she pulled the car out of the driveway and went on her way.

                Steve watched her pull away and he dropped the shovel. He got his cell phone and called his friend at the University.

                “It’s here Dave. Full phantasm activity… Yes… all over my damn house… it’s astounding. When can you come by because we only have until seven? Okay, okay…yeah…see you then.”

                Steve hung up the phone and went upstairs to get dressed and to rewind the home surveillance footage for Dave to watch.

                Dave rang the bell a half hour later and Steve jumped when the bell rang. He had been watching the footage of something stumble through his house, knocking things over, clumsily setting them back, throwing up on everything. He was astonished and he knew now for sure that there was an afterlife.

                “Dave, you’re not going to believe this,” said Steve as he brought him upstairs to watch the video.

                Dave pushed his glasses back on his nose as he watched the ghost. The ghost didn’t always have a form, but there was almost always a Pabst Blue Ribbon in its hand, or floating in the air, occasionally spilling a little. There was also footage of the fully formed ghost, just as Steve had seen in the kitchen, just stopping and staring off into nothing, then throwing up giant streams of puke all over.

                “This, we can’t go public with this,” said Dave.

                “What? Why not?!”

                Dave pointed at the screen as the Ghost bumped into an end table and then threw up on it.

                “I’m not attaching my name to the Vomit Ghost,” said Dave.

                “What?! C’mon man, this is definitive proof of life after death,” said Steve.

                “No, it’s proof of a dead frat boy, drunkenly vomiting on everything. That’s not exactly proof of anything other than drunken douche-bags turning into ghosts. Can you imagine the fraternities that would have ghost pledges if this video ever got out?”

                Steve sat back in his chair and thought about it. It was still proof life after death but, what kind of life was it. He looked up at the screen to see the Ghost attempting to light a cigarette on the stove, but then get dizzy, stumble backwards into the cabinet and throw up.

                “Okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the best proof of life after death,” said Steve.

                “Yeah, let’s just exorcise this joker and we’ll chalk it up to a creepy experience and forget about it,” said Dave.

                Steve nodded and followed Dave going room to room performing a blessing and the Exorcism rights.

                “NooooOOOooooOOO, BrooooOOoooOoo,” said a disembodied voice as they moved around the house.

                Dave and Steve ignored it and continued the blessings until every room was clear. The last they heard of the Vomit Ghost was a very faint, “You suuuuuUUuuuuuUUUccccKKKkkk BroooOOOooo….,” before completely training off and vanishing.  

                “I think Miranda will be happy,” said Dave.

                “Yeah, she might not turn me into a ghost now. So, I’ll see you Tuesday for our meeting,” asked Steve.

                “Yup, see you then,” said Dave.

                Dave left the house and Steve checked each room for any trace of the Vomit Ghost. He didn’t find any more puke puddles or hear any drunken stumbling.  He went to the couch and sat down. He turned on the TV and started watching a Ghost hunting show.

                “Pshht, lame,” said Steve.

                                                   HAPPY HALLOWEEN Dearest readers!