For a second, I thought he could actually see me. 

But of course he would be incapable, as I am a ghost. I thought he might as he did choose to move into this house, even after warnings from everyone that it was haunted by a malicious spirit. It was foolish on his part, as I am the spirit, but I do admire his guts. I’d imagine they’d taste as good as his cologne smells. 

What’s that he’s reading? A book on local serial killers? He must have heard the rumor that this used to be my house. It’s understandable that he’d want to know more about who he’s sharing a house with. I just wish he’d ask me instead of looking in the wrong places. 

“Anything interesting in there?” I asked.

“Who’s there?” 

“When you moved, I’d hoped that you’d be one of those with the ability to see behind the veil. However, there’s nothing remarkable about you.” I ruffled the pages of his book with a finger. 

“What was that?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“I am a very special ghost, who only has a use for special people. If you do not prove yourself, your literature shows what will happen. I floated over his shoulder to look at the pictures. 

“I did that one page, no, that one was a CIA copycat. What can I say, I’m good at what I do.”

“You’re also dead. So evidently you’re not good enough.”

What an attitude. If he truly wanted to live, he was going to have to tone it down. I picked up a kitchen knife he left lying around – really? Who would leave a blade lying around in a haunted house? – and brought it over. I waved it around close to his head and he looked up, barely avoiding my last swing.

“Why is there a floating knife right in front of my nose?”

“You need to realize that you are here at my benevolence, not through your power. When you cease to be entertaining, I’ll kill you and add your body to my collection. It’ll be so gruesome that the details will be classified.”

He scoffed. “Only the high ranking crime reports are classified.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Are you continuing this train of thought?”

He paled and opened her mouth.

“Tsk; your usefulness has ended. I warned you what would happen at that time.”

I plunged the knife into his leg.

He sobbed, as I stroked his hair. 

“There, there. You had a good run.”

I brought him downstairs to the basement, where I keep my tools, and I got to work. 

His screams pierced the air and my hands moved along his body, removing skin, hair, nails and teeth. I save the eyes for last. I brushed a hand through his hair as I whispered, “You’ve almost made it now. Just the eyes and you’ll be at peace.”

I plunged the pliers down.

A rasping noise filled the space as he drew a last breath.