I cannot stop. I'm writing too many of these. But here we go.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
For Lucy, being dead was fun at times. She didn't remember how she'd died. She just knew she suddenly was. She didn't know if it was reversible, probably not, as it was death. But she was alone in her sprawling mansion, long abandoned and dilapidated. Teenagers often entered the house on dares, and that was when the fun began. You see, being a ghost can be boring when there's nothing to do. Sure, she could stroll in the moonlit garden, overgrown as it was, but it was peaceful.
She couldn't really leave the mansion's sprawling grounds, but the gardens and other buildings on the property made for enough room to explore.
Lucy was lounging on the stairs, folding and unfolding the hem of her dress. It was probably the dress she'd died in. It was light blue with yellow flowers, and it reached her knees. Lucy quite liked it. A noise snapped Lucy out of her thoughts.
The front door creaked open and Lucy walked on noiseless feet behind it. Two loud voices cut the silence in the old house. Male voices, loud and vulgar, spewing profanity and laughing obnoxiously. Oh, lovely. This would be fun.
Lucy slammed the door shut with a shove, and the voices stopped.
"Hey man, not funny, what the hell was that?" One of the boys asked, and Lucy allowed herself a giggle. He didn't hear it, of course, but his friend looked around with frantic eyes.
"I didn't shut it." His friend (Lucy had nicknamed him 'Idiot 1' in her head) retorted. He had a spiked hairstyle with shaved sides, his hair a dull blonde. He wore a tight shirt under the parka he'd unzipped, and jeans that looked far too tight. His shoes were a pair of those basketball shoes that looked far too big. His face was handsome, for some people, but it just looked kind of like a copy-paste of a lot of other faces Lucy had seen enter the house looking for ghosts or ghouls or cheap scares.
"Then who the hell did?" Idiot 2 snapped, and Idiot 1 shrugged. Idiot 2's hair was similar, but slightly more curly, and was dark brown. He wore a red shirt under a puffer jacket that was a hideous shade of fluorescent blue, tight jeans, and the same oversized basketball shoes as his friend was, but these were in blue. A thick silver chain hung around his neck.
"It wasn't me, Mikey, I swear."
Mikey was his name, eh? Lucy supposed it was easier to remember him if she just called him that. Less easy to confuse him with his friend.
Mikey swallowed thickly, gesturing to the staircase. "Let's go."
They walked up the stairs, and Lucy crossed her arms indignantly. They go upstairs without taking the time to explore the downstairs? She hadn't even had the chance to play the piano yet! She decided to get them back downstairs, and she grabbed Mikey's arm, focusing her energy so her hand wouldn't pass through. Mikey began to look around for what was grabbing him, and she pulled him back down the few stairs he'd walked up, wrenching him in the direction of the parlor. His friend followed.
"Mikey, where-"
"It's not me!"
Lucy was grinning at the frightened looks on their faces. They walked together into the parlor, peering around.
Lucy attempted to go past them, but her arm came out and passed through Mikey's chest, and said boy gasped. Lucy snickered. She hadn't meant to do that, but if it scared him more, that was good.
"Okay, something just touched me."
"Dude, not me."
Lucy sat down at the piano, turning the page to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and she began to play. The squabbling from the two boys died down as they slowly turned and looked at the piano. Oh, this was just lovely. Of course, all they would see was an empty bench and moving keys. It was the oldest trick in the book, but it sure was fun to pull with an audience. And Lucy liked to play the piano.
"Doug, something's wrong here."
Ah. His name was Doug. Lucy guessed she'd call him that.
Doug laughed uneasily, calling out, "Okay guys, cool prank, but you can be done now!"
Lucy allowed her image to flicker on the piano bench, and both boys gasped in terror. She flickered it again, but this time in front of them, on her feet. They screamed this time, bolting for the door. Oh no, we can't have that. She passed through a wall, making it so she got to the door first, and she used her energy to hold it closed. She watched them struggle with the knob before looking to the other side of the staircase, which leads to the kitchen. Sure, there was another door over there, but it was boarded shut, They'd never get out. Not until she was done playing with them. She wouldn't hurt them, she'd just toy with them until she grew tired of it, then let them out.
They ran into the kitchen, banging at the boarded door, and Lucy allowed herself to laugh.
"Mikey, the doors won't open."
Mikey looked at the windows, "Try a window!"
With a gleeful grin, Lucy raised a hand, and every window in the vicinity's curtains slammed shut, their locks clicking. For good measure, Lucy slammed the shutters too.
Doug gulped, "I guess not."
Mikey took a deep breath. "Maybe let's go upstairs?"
"Are you kidding?" Doug said, "That's how the guys in horror movies die."
Well, she wasn't going to kill them. Just play with them. Lucy knocked on the wall, and Doug's eyes grew. "Anywhere but here."
They went up the stairs, Mikey tucking his arm to his side this time. When they reached the landing, Lucy slammed both hands against the wall, making a loud bang. The boys jumped. This was too good. Their first stop was the bathroom.
The boys looked into the dirty mirror, and Lucy allowed her image to flicker behind them. Doug saw and yelped in a very un-manly fashion. Lucy laughed.
"Okay, who's there?"
There was no way she was answering him. She could, but that would be no fun. So she threw a hairbrush at him. It bounced off his chest, clattering to the floor.
"What the hell is this?" Mikey squeaked, and Lucy laughed again. The boys exited the bathroom quickly shutting and locking the door behind them.
Idiots. This is why she nicknamed them Idiot 1 and Idiot 2. Did they want to be downgraded to that again? Lucy passed through the door, blowing a raspberry. They were in her mansion. They would play by her rules. And those rules were her scaring them witless until she decided to let them go.
They entered the upstairs parlor, and Lucy approached the old gramophone, cranking it. The record that was in place began to play slowly, filling the room with a melancholy waltz. Lucy hummed, allowing her image to flicker about the room as she swayed to the music. The boys grew pale and Lucy waltzed as if being led by an invisible partner. She giggled, this time allowing the giggle to be heard.
"Mikey, this was such a terrible idea," Doug whined, "I wanna go home."
"I do too, but this ghost bitch won't let us."
Lucy froze. 'Ghost bitch?' Wow, that isn't any way to treat your hostess. They'd pay for that. Lucy let out a spectral scream, and it rang through the old house. The boys screamed fearfully right back.
"Doug, don't insult the ghost." Mikey said quickly, covering his ears, "We're sorry, ghost lady! You aren't a bitch!"
Lucy stopped the shriek, smirking. Damn straight.
"So," Mikey said, his voice uneasy, "you are a ghost? Is there any way we can talk to you? We're super sorry for barging into your house."
Lucy considered his proposition for conversation but didn't feel like using her energy to create an apparition. She'd wait until he gave her a proposition to a means of conversation, just like the living always did. The "knock once for yes and twice for no" kind of stuff.
To Lucy's amusement, this was the proposition he gave her.
Mikey cleared his throat. "Are you really a ghost?"
Lucy scoffed. No duh. She knocked once to signify her answer. The boys looked comically amused and afraid.
"Lemme ask her something, man," Doug was smiling, but his face was uneasy, "A-are you a girl?"
Lucy sighed. What was this, an ouija board? Lucy had seen countless teens (usually goths or delinquents, though she occasionally got normal people) come into the house with one of those pesky objects. They were much easier to communicate with, though. Lucy knocked once.
"Will you let us go?"
Lucy rolled her eyes, chuckling. Oh, she might have let them go sooner if they hadn't called her names. She knocked twice. The boys looked at each other fearfully.
"Why?" Doug said, his voice on the brink of crumbling. Lucy laughed. Yes or no questions only, kid. She just redelivered her two knocks, grinning as she watched them recoil.
"Please!"
Can't they hear? Lucy knocked no. She did so again, this time running her nails along the peeling wallpaper out of frustration. It made a scraping sound.
"Doug!" Mikey snapped, "yes or no questions. Ghosts can't talk."
No, she could talk. She just didn't want to.
"Ask," Doug said, and Mikey did. Lucy knocked once.
"Then why the hell aren't you?"
Lucy rolled her eyes, half of her wanting to appear as an apparition and just yell at them. But she refrained from doing so, and picked up a glass from an end table next to her, slamming it to the ground. It shattered, and the boys jumped back.
"I don't think she wants to. Do you want to?"
Lucy knocked no. This was getting boring. Couldn't she just keep scaring them? No more questions. She exited the room through the wall, entering her bedroom from when she was alive. She sunk down on the bed, and she heard the boys confused shouts from the other room. They got closer and soon entered the bedroom.
"Hey, ghost lady! You in here?"
Oh, Like hell she was answering them this time. Lucy decided she'd had enough, her boredom becoming more and more grating. She wrapped her fingers around the arm of a wooden chair sitting in the corner, throwing it at the boys. It clattered to the ground, but they jumped back.
She finally allowed her ethereal form to flicker into an apparition, misty tendrils snaking around her ankles. She gave the boys a twisted smirk, and between her teeth, she hissed,
"Get out."
Screams filled the room as the boys clambered through the door, down the stairs, and slamming into the door. They tugged at the knob with shaking hands, yelping and crying pleas of apology, their voices strained with raw fear. Lucy rolled her eyes, allowing the door to swing open, and Doug and Mikey ran screaming into the night.
Lucy doubled over. She laughed until she was sure tears would be in her eyes is she were still alive, sinking to the floor. She lay on her back for a while, recovering from the bellowing laughter. Giggles occasionally emerged at the thought of their petrified faces. Oh, yes.
For Lucy, being dead was fun.
Until the day they came.
I guess this story will be more lighthearted if I add more chapters. I like where this idea is going, though. Stay tuned!
~Starry