Everyone within the palace walls lived a distant and separated life. Whether it was the Queen or her supposed friends, the palace residents made sure to keep themselves occupied. Four hybrids mingled about the garden, a werewolf attempted to reconnect with her old friend, and iniquitous vampires planned their next move on the rebels.
There was also the ghost who, instead of searching the Queen's mysterious relic room, was dressed in her purple silk nightgown and hovered in her room, her laptop floating just in front of her. She stared at the screen with a small smile on her face. Another ghost chatted idly with her, running a hand through his verdant curls. The ghoul was hardly listening, and he knew she wasn't because of the time she had asked to speak to him. It was a few hours past midnight and for her it meant messy hair and pajamas, and he came through.
"Spectra..." Porter drawled, a teasing grin spread across his ghostly green visage.
"I already said no," Spectra said quickly, averting her gaze.
"Come on!" She heard him laugh as he tried to sway her. "Just for the weekend."
Spectra stared down at the keyboard. "There's nothing newsworthy in the ghost world, Porter."
"This isn't about your blog," he said. "This is about spending time with me." His voice was so quiet Spectra assumed he turned down the volume or walked off. But when she glanced at the screen, he was still there, his serious expression catching her off guard.
She sighed. "Porter..."
"It's not just me, you know." He tossed a spray can of ghost paint in the air. "Kiyomi misses you, too."
Spectra racked her brain for an excuse. If there wasn't anything interesting going on, then what was the point of visiting the ghost world? But a nagging sense of guilt pricked at her, and she was at a loss for words.
Porter nimbly caught the paint can he'd tossed. Spectra watched his figure shrink into the background as he floated backward then swiveled around to face the wall. The spritzing sound of Porter spraying ghost paint was numb in Spectra's ears.
She took out her iCoffin and browsed through her photo album. Her translucent thumb stilled when she landed on a photo of a small golden idol of a man grasping two intertwined snakes. A small grin spread onto Spectra's face as she recalled following the Queen into her secret room. She cringed remembering the metallic door she couldn't phase through. The one the Queen locked. Spectra was still curious as to what was behind the door, but at least she knew what the word in the idol description, Ka, meant: life-force, a separable double; the vital spark of the soul.
Locking her iCoffin, Spectra turned her attention back to the green ghost on the screen, still spritzing ghost paint at his bedroom wall. She hesitated, debilitating over her words. "Porter... I'd like to visit, really, but this is my home and everything's here—"
He scoffed, back still turned. "Everything, yeah."
Spectra glared. "The Gory Gazette is a monster world blog, not a ghost world blog. How do you expect me to pick up on monster news if I'm not in the monster world?"
"Internet?" he replied flatly.
"You know I wouldn't let anyone else find out before me!" she yelled, startling both herself and the one across the screen, who stiffened.
Porter looked over his shoulder, more concerned than anything. His voice was low, "Spectra..."
"It's just..."
"I know, alright?" He swiftly hovered to the screen. "You don't have to come."
After a brief bit of silence, the poltergeist returned to the wall and let his ghost paint drift across the bare surface.
Spectra willed herself to speak. "I do want to see you, Porter. Really see you. But you never know what might happen."
She could practically hear his sympathetic grin. "Five years and you're still shaken up. Time flies when you're dead, doesn't it?"
Spectra faced away from the screen. She didn't want to talk about Monster High. Ever since it crashed in on itself she felt as if she took it for granted.
It's a great school. It has enough drama to keep a gossip blog running for centuries.
Now her gossip hub was gone and now she had a city—a whole city to write news for.
But it wasn't the same. As much as she'd like to claim it was her home, it wasn't.
Her home was gone.
The spritz of ghost paint snapped Spectra out of her thoughts, and a sudden grin plastered her face. "You can come!"
The spritzing stopped. "Huh?"
"To the palace, Porter!" she exclaimed giddily. "Come over!"
His brows furrowed. "I don't know... I'd have to talk to River..."
"Please," Spectra pled, her eager expression morphing into a playful one. "You did say you wanted to spend time with me."
Spectra hoped it wasn't a glitch because she could've sworn Porter's face had flushed a deep red. He hurriedly faced the wall. "What I said was for you to spend time with me but..." He cleared his throat. "Sure." He glanced over his shoulder and winked at the camera, then floated out of view.
Spectra gasped. "Oh! Porter..."
"Might wanna to take a screenshot before it fades away," he suggested off-screen.
Taking up a large amount of the formally bare wall was an intricate portrait of Spectra herself: thick, violet hair framing her face, full lips opened slightly and contrasting beautifully with ivory skin. Glimmering eyes stared back at her.
She never imagined herself like this. Even in the mirror, she didn't believe she looked so perfect.
Porter hovered back into view. "Did you screenshot it?" His tone was meek and gentle, even a little embarrassed. There it was: a faint tint of red on his cheeks.
Spectra bit her lip and did as he suggested, pressing the keys to save the rare moment to her computer. Of course, she loved the painting, but this was one of the few times she'd ever seen Porter blush. And who was she not to document it?
"...and out the window he went." Avea smiled broadly as she concluded the events of earlier that day. While she stood, the other hybrids reclined on the grass beside her. Bonita stifled a laugh and Sirena played with a piece of moss dangling off a tree branch. Neighthan sat up, his hoary skin barely illuminated by the moonlight.
"I didn't know the floor was wet," he grumbled.
Avea rolled her eyes. "Sure you didn't."
"It's not like it's the first time!" Bonita giggled, her massive pink wings sprawled on the ground beneath her. "Right, Sirena?"
The mermaid-ghost gave the others an absentminded nod, then looped around the mossy branch as if she was swimming through a hoop. "He does that a lot," she remarked and, unlike in her high school years, listened attentively.
Neighthan's blue eyes glinted with amusement. "If you're going to make fun of me every time I slip up—"
"You mean literally?" Avea cut in. "Because we all know that isn't going to stop anytime soon. I mean," she shrugged, "at least you didn't get your foot stuck in the bucket this time." She turned to the others. "This time the maid still had some water left to mop the rest of the palace with."
Bonita's laughter bubbled-over and she sat up clutching her stomach. Sirena, seeing the opportunity, swiftly glided down and started braiding the moth ghoul's long, loose, platinum-blonde hair.
Sirena was playing with the black and pink streaks of Bonita's hair when Avea noticed Neighthan left. She glanced from side to side until his tall frame came into view, a pointed silhouette enveloped in the glaring palace lights. Beckoning the ghouls over, the half-centaur glided out the garden until she, Sirena, and Bonita were directly behind the long-haired half-zombie.
Avea's four hooves landed softly on the concrete. "Leaving without saying goodbye?"
Neighthan stilled and then turned around. He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. It's getting late and I just figured I'd turn in for the night." His mouth stretched open and he let out a yawn, then he hastily walked toward the palace entrance. "Night, guys."
The ghouls shared a look, and Avea called after him, "Worst fake yawn ever!"
"My mom could yawn better than that," Bonita teased. "And she didn't have lungs."
Neighthan sighed and begrudgingly faced them. Sirena hovered forward, her black tailfin swaying as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you trying to avoid us?"
He shook his head fiercely, and the ghouls laughed.
Avea sighed. "You can't lie to us, Neighthan. We've known each other too long."
"I really just want to go to sleep, alright?" He avoided their pressing stares. "It's been a long day and I have a lot on my mind."
Avea crossed her arms and glared up at him.
Bonita tilted her head to the side like she was expecting him to further explain.
Sirena's eyes widened and she grinned as if he was about to tell a story.
Neighthan sighed. "Do you remember a couple days ago, when I saw you guys sneaking around with Spectra?" He swept his gaze toward Sirena.
"Oh!" The mermaid-ghost giggled and waved her hand dismissively then flipped back strands of her indigo-colored hair. "Yeah, I remember."
"So do I," Bonita said, rubbing her pink skeletal hand across her hoodie's sleeve. "I haven't been that nervous in while."
Avea's eyebrows arched curiously, and she prodded the ground with her front hoof.
Neighthan's eyes flicked toward her as he said, "Long story."
The harpy-centaur let out a frustrated huff but reluctantly kept quiet.
"Remember when you showed Spectra the shed?" Neighthan pointed at the small, foliage-covered building in the near distance and Sirena nodded. The gray-skinned monster stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I've known about Frankie going in there but when you brought it up like it was some big secret I was... confused. And now..."
Bonita smiled sympathetically as his words faltered. "You're on edge?"
Neighthan nodded. "I've never been suspicious of Frankie until Sirena brought that up. She never struck me as someone who would keep secrets from others."
Avea squinted to look at the building. "Why does she go in there anyway?"
"Frankie never said why," Neighthan admitted with an exasperated sigh.
Sirena's black tail fin swished at a sudden thought. "Maybe Spectra knows!"
"I don't know..." Bonita intoned. "She's been really quiet these past two days. Holed up in her room—"
"Probably updating her blog," Avea cut in, waving off the skeletal moth's explanation.
Sirena grinned mischievously. "Or she's catching up with Porter."
Avea rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You have all the right to be suspicious, Neighthan."
His eyes widened in bemusement. "I'm not trying to, Avea. I'm trying to shake this suspicion and feel like I did before. I don't want something stupid to ruin my image of her."
Avea scoffed. "Your precious queen?"
Neighthan's blue gaze hardened. "No, not the Queen. Frankie."
Avea retorted, "You act like she's perfect. We all have our flaws, even her."
A muscle jumped in Neighthan's clenched jaw. "I know. She's just been so distant lately it's hard to get a read on her." He let out a half-hearted laugh. "She talks more to her big smelly plant than to me."
Avea opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. After years of trying, Avea knew it was no use arguing with Neighthan about the Queen, even if she was against her.
The harpy-centaur tentatively reached toward Neighthan. Her gloved hand enclosed his arm as she cautiously pulled his hand out his pocket. Neighthan's eyes widened at first but relaxed as soon as Avea gripped his hand in hers. The other hybrids quickly joined in, all four of their hands overlapping. Each pair of eyes flicked toward one another in mutual understanding, and wide grins spread on their faces.
"It'll get better, Neighthan," Bonita assured, putting an end to their unspoken conversation. "Unless, um, it doesn't."
Neighthan gave the ghouls' hands a friendly squeeze. "Thanks." He smiled. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight!" the ghouls chorused.
As Neighthan moved away, the ghouls headed to the opposite direction, the facade of the palace looming before them as entered one after the other—except Sirena, who glided up the metallic staircase and phased through the door to her bedroom. When Bonita closed the door behind her, Avea was left in the hallway. The clomping of her four hooves resonated with a loud echo until she stepped onto the soft carpet floor of her spacious room. But as soon as her footsteps quieted, the sound of quick sporadic movements filled her ears. Her brows furrowed and her right ear twitched atop her head.
After what seemed like hours of standing still, Avea shrugged and closed the door behind her. The sounds were odd, like a combination of footsteps and, perhaps even, voices.
But everyone had to be in bed by now, right?
