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Yukimura · 09-01-2007, 06:20 PM

Lighting leapt across the cloudy night sky as the first drops of rain began to fall. A house was hidden deep in the woods at the end of a long dirt road. Wich each flash of light, the house itself seemed to come to life, as though it were a giant face devouring the land it sat on. A yellow car pulls up slowly, coming to a stop with an unpleasant squeal. The rumbling of the engine comes to a stop for a moment as the drivers waits for his passengers to exit. They take a moment to gather themselves, and then run out at a brisk jog, hoping to avoid most of the rain. One man knocks on the door, and it echoes through the entire house. As the owner answers the door, they hear the cab behind them wail in protest, refusing to start. After a moment, the engine roars in triumph, and the cab drives off. The owner finally speaks.

"Hello. You must be the specialist I called for. Won't you and your assistants please come in."

The psychic seemed to take unusual interest in his words. The owner assumed all psychics were strange in this fashion. He led them into the living room where his wife was bringing in tea for them. She greeted her visitors and invited them to sit. After they had warmed themselves a bit, the owner finally got to business.

"I called for you because you're supposed to be the best, likely in the world. I've had many men come before you, but the ghost has been to crafty for them. Not a single one has even been able to detect it, yet I'm sure there's one here. They've all attested to that."

The psychic nodded and spoke, "There's an obvious explanation for this. Some ghosts need a particular person to exercise it. So long as that person lives, they'll not find peace until they meet it in their final conflict."

At that moment, the house roared with what seemed to be anger. The house's inhabitants shivered visibly, save for the psychic. At that moment, a fierce black dragon came tearing throug the halls, terrible jaws open to devour them all, teeth dripping with murderous intent. The psychic didn't even look up from his tea. He simply spoke the word, "Go," and took another sip. The dragon disappeared in a puff of black smoke. A cocky smirk spread over the psychic's face as he spoke again.

"I'm sure I can resolve your problem."

The man's depressed look seemed to disappear for the first time as hope entered his eyes. The psychic put a hand on his back and laughed as he spoke.

"So, could you please give my assistant's each another cup of tea?"

The hope seemed to fade again from the owner's eyes as he suspected the man of being a con artist of some sort. He sighed and signaled his wife to pour two more cups. She handed one to her husband, and they both carried them to the assistants. As the husband handed the cup over, the assistant's eyes widened. In a flash, the psychic had his hand against the man's chest.

"Don't worry sir, I'm about to earn my fee. You see, this man... is already dead. I know, because I'm the one who killed him. He had made himself invisible to me before now, but seeing you give him tea, I finally sensed his presence. He's been calling for me, hoping for a chance to exact revenge. That's the kind of scum he was. He was possessed by excessive contact with the supernatural, trying to kill me in life, and now he tries in death. But now, he'll have to move on."

In a flash of light, the man was gone and the psychic was on his way out the door. Waving and speaking without even looking back.

"This one's on the house since the fault for this haunting is mine."

(Oy, it was so short. I can't seem to find the motivation lately to write a story worthy of the topic. I'm trying to buy a house right now, and the stress is killing my creativity. I'll get back to being more regular soon though.)

09-01-2007, 06:20 PM	#23 (permalink)
Yukimura Tilted Location: At a computer, obviously.	Lighting leapt across the cloudy night sky as the first drops of rain began to fall. A house was hidden deep in the woods at the end of a long dirt road. Wich each flash of light, the house itself seemed to come to life, as though it were a giant face devouring the land it sat on. A yellow car pulls up slowly, coming to a stop with an unpleasant squeal. The rumbling of the engine comes to a stop for a moment as the drivers waits for his passengers to exit. They take a moment to gather themselves, and then run out at a brisk jog, hoping to avoid most of the rain. One man knocks on the door, and it echoes through the entire house. As the owner answers the door, they hear the cab behind them wail in protest, refusing to start. After a moment, the engine roars in triumph, and the cab drives off. The owner finally speaks. "Hello. You must be the specialist I called for. Won't you and your assistants please come in." The psychic seemed to take unusual interest in his words. The owner assumed all psychics were strange in this fashion. He led them into the living room where his wife was bringing in tea for them. She greeted her visitors and invited them to sit. After they had warmed themselves a bit, the owner finally got to business. "I called for you because you're supposed to be the best, likely in the world. I've had many men come before you, but the ghost has been to crafty for them. Not a single one has even been able to detect it, yet I'm sure there's one here. They've all attested to that." The psychic nodded and spoke, "There's an obvious explanation for this. Some ghosts need a particular person to exercise it. So long as that person lives, they'll not find peace until they meet it in their final conflict." At that moment, the house roared with what seemed to be anger. The house's inhabitants shivered visibly, save for the psychic. At that moment, a fierce black dragon came tearing throug the halls, terrible jaws open to devour them all, teeth dripping with murderous intent. The psychic didn't even look up from his tea. He simply spoke the word, "Go," and took another sip. The dragon disappeared in a puff of black smoke. A cocky smirk spread over the psychic's face as he spoke again. "I'm sure I can resolve your problem." The man's depressed look seemed to disappear for the first time as hope entered his eyes. The psychic put a hand on his back and laughed as he spoke. "So, could you please give my assistant's each another cup of tea?" The hope seemed to fade again from the owner's eyes as he suspected the man of being a con artist of some sort. He sighed and signaled his wife to pour two more cups. She handed one to her husband, and they both carried them to the assistants. As the husband handed the cup over, the assistant's eyes widened. In a flash, the psychic had his hand against the man's chest. "Don't worry sir, I'm about to earn my fee. You see, this man... is already dead. I know, because I'm the one who killed him. He had made himself invisible to me before now, but seeing you give him tea, I finally sensed his presence. He's been calling for me, hoping for a chance to exact revenge. That's the kind of scum he was. He was possessed by excessive contact with the supernatural, trying to kill me in life, and now he tries in death. But now, he'll have to move on." In a flash of light, the man was gone and the psychic was on his way out the door. Waving and speaking without even looking back. "This one's on the house since the fault for this haunting is mine." (Oy, it was so short. I can't seem to find the motivation lately to write a story worthy of the topic. I'm trying to buy a house right now, and the stress is killing my creativity. I'll get back to being more regular soon though.) __________________ Maybe the answer is in the very light reflected off our blades. Maybe that's what it means to be this creature known as samurai.