#vss365 Very Short Story

The mansion creaked in a way that said the cobwebs had evicted all the more interesting signs of being uninhabited. Pat and the Gang started recording, their parents were both in the audience and most of it, if their upfront hopes for prosperity failed there was always posterity on the backside.

"This is Ghostwatch coming to you live from The Unspoken House and we want to know.... Are you a believer?"

A tremendous crash sounded as an apparition wafted up through the floorboards and a comfortable panic settled over the Gang. They took their cue from Pat, who wasted no time on deliberation or sensibility and instead threw the microphone and bolted. Between the great racks in the library (so bookish the innuendo was lost), bouncing through the ballroom (too airheaded to appreciate itself), and finally roaring out the front terrace (who finally appreciated a funny name) they ran before pausing in a panting mass.

A button nose led a face with wide, if partially transparent, doe eyes through the door and the cutest ghoulie the Gang ever saw (though they'd never seen one) said, "I'm a believer; do you believe in yourselves?"