2018 - One minute after the earthquake

Hayden slowly uncurled and eyed the ceiling uncertainly. When she was sure it wasn't going to fall in on her she sat up. She was nude and straddling Charles on the operating table. Nora was beside them, her dressing gown half off and her husband's hand between her thighs. Hayden dropped the scalpel she'd used to stab the doctor with. He had several wounds in his chest and was staring vacantly upward.

Nora pulled away from them and set to fixing her robe. She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened but she was coming back to herself and things were Not Right.

"Where ya going?" Hayden asked. She beckoned the blonde with a bloody hand. "Let's go again."

Nora looked at the naked woman on Charles and knotted her belt around her waist. Then she looked at the bloody mess that was her husband. He was still just laying there. Nora frowned. "You killed him."

"He can't die, sweetie," Hayden said. "We're ghosts. He'll wake up soon. Come on."

Nora blinked a few times. She couldn't focus on what Hayden was saying. Something was wrong. Something had happened, somewhere upstairs. "No. Thank you," she demurred. She turned and drifted toward the stairs. "There's something wrong. Something's... wrong."

"Mind if I go for another round?" Hayden called after her.

Nora paused to regard the pair on the table. She cared a lot less about that than she did the urgent feeling she was getting thanks to the fallen beam in the entryway. "Do what you wish." She floated upstairs.

Hayden looked back down at Charles. He still hadn't moved. She'd killed her ghostly lovers many times and they all sprang back within a few minutes, usually in just seconds. She'd never been with Charles before though so she wasn't sure if this lag was abnormal or just him. She gave him a little shake. He didn't respond. She kissed him. No reaction. She bit his lip. Nothing.

She sat up again and frowned. Then he blinked. He blinked a few more times. Then he frowned.

"You stabbed me," he accused.

She smiled. "So pop a pill." She ground her hips against his. "Let's go again."

Charles gave a lethargic shrug and reached for her. Her smile widened. She leaned in to kiss him.

...

Hayden felt guilty when she went looking for Shelly later. It hadn't occurred to her till then that the baby might have been frightened by the earthquake. But she needn't have worried. Shelly was playing ball with Beauregard. Neither seemed upset. Hayden rolled the ball for Beau a few times then collected her baby.

She carried the dusty tot upstairs and gave her a bath. Then she put Shelly in a fancy vintage dress she'd found in the attic. It reminded Hayden of the dresses the old China dolls wore. Then she went to Ben's office. She got a piece of paper and pencil and sat down on the floor at the coffee table. She put Shelly in her lap and placed the paper in front of the baby. Shelly patted it with a stiff-fingered little hand. Hayden took her other little hand and helped her hold the pencil.

"We're going to write a letter," she said sweetly to the baby. Shelly babbled back at her.

Using Shelly's hand to move the pencil over the paper, she wrote a short letter and signed it with Shelly's name. Then she turned the baby on her lap and used an ancient diaper pin to clip the note to the bib of the baby's dress. She kissed Shelly on top of her head. She put the baby on the floor with an old teddy bear and her red blanket. Then she left.

...

Shelly was still there when Ben found her a couple of hours later. His first reaction to the sight of the gray-skinned baby was revulsion. Then he noticed the fancy dress, and the blanket and toy. He moved closer cautiously. He had no idea whether the thing would attack. But the baby just sat there watching him with foggy eyes.

He crouched down beside her, curiosity growing as his wariness eased. He saw the folded note pinned to the baby's clothes. "What the..?"

He reached for it cautiously. When she didn't bite him he tugged the note free and opened it.

Hello Daddy.

Why did you want to forget me?

Why did you want to KILL ME?

I love you.

~ Shelly

Ben lowered the paper and stared at the ghoulish baby.

"Uh-uh," he said. He crumpled the letter. A cyclone of feelings tore up his insides. "No. No."

He stood up and stalked away but he stopped after only a few steps. Then he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the creature on the floor. "You are NOT mine."

The baby looked at him with those dead, white eyes and babbled back at him.

There were tears in Ben's eyes, tears of anger and doubt and shame and denial. "You're not mine! You're NOT MINE!"

Shelly had never been yelled at before. She didn't like it. She cried.

Ben felt even worse because she sounded exactly like any other baby. "No... No. You're not mine."

Unconsoled, Shelly cried even louder.

"You're not my baby!" Ben yelled through his tears. He disappeared, leaving Shelly wailing on the floor.

A few moments later Hayden came and picked the screaming tot up. She hugged her and the baby calmed down some. "Shh. Shh. It's okay. Momma's here. Daddy can't run forever. It's a small house."

...

2018 - Morning after the earthquake

Michael and Father Jeremiah sat on the edge of the boy's bed together. Michael was still in his pajamas. He hugged his stuffed dog toy, Ragamuffin. Michael didn't know what the word meant. He'd just heard Mama Constance use it before and he liked it.

"She is dead," Jeremiah explained patiently. "But she's not gone. Her body will be buried but she'll still be here, in spirit."

"Mama Constance is a ghost?" Michael asked. "Is she invisible?"

"She's a ghost. But she's very visible. She's making breakfast, in fact."

"When I die will I be a ghost?"

Father Jeremiah tousled his hair. "You're not going to die for a very long time."

Michael sucked on his lower lip. Then: "Is she still going to take care of me?"

Jeremiah nodded. "She and I both will. She has a thing called a will that names me as your legal guardian in the event of her death. But she isn't going anywhere."

The little boy made a funny face as he mulled that over. "Does that mean you're my daddy now?"

Father Jeremiah blinked a few times. "I.. well. Yes, I suppose it does. But it won't change things at all. Mama Constance will always be your Mama Constance."

"I'm hungry. Can we have breakfast now?"

"Yes, we can," said Jeremiah. "Let's go see if Mama Constance needs help setting the table. But remember: She still doesn't really understand she's dead yet. It may take her some time. We'll have to be patient."

Michael nodded and crawled out of bed.

...

2018 - Two days after the earthquake

It was early evening when Billie Dean's taxi pulled up outside of Constance Langdon's house. She'd given that address to the cabbie to avoid questions about her business at Murder House. The driver set her suitcases down beside her which pulled her attention off of the two houses long enough to pay him. She smiled and thanked him. As he drove away she looked at the homes again.

To her eyes, Murder House had always been shrouded in darkness. The negative energy was impossible for her to miss. That miasma had grown during the time she'd been away. It had spread so far, the Langdon property had also been overtaken by the darkness. It covered both homes in a thick fog that pushed at the boundaries of reality on all sides. The seething mass engulfed the two properties and had the electrical charge of a pending monsoon storm.

Billie Dean had never seen anything like it. It made her nervous. But this was no time to show weakness. She had work to do. She picked up her bags and toted them up the sidewalk. Entering the fog was like stepping inside Murder House. It had the same cloying, unclean feel to it. She had no doubt that it was from the same source. But what had caused it to spread so far?

The medium carried her bags to the front porch where she set them down and took a moment to straighten her twill skirt and blazer. Then she rang the bell.

A man answered. Billie Dean could see him as other saw him but she saw more. She saw a shroud over him, a separate seeming that enveloped him like a dark aura. His eyes were as black as night, deep as infinity. Large black raven's wings were folded close to his sides. He was beautiful and frightful to behold.

"Angel," she whispered in awe.

"I beg your pardon?" Father Jeremiah asked.

Billie Dean blinked and the vision faded. "I'm sorry," she smiled. "Hi. I'm Billie Dean Howard. Is Constance home?"

The man looked uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off when Constance crowded in.

"Billie Dean!" she said with a broad smile. "You didn't tell me you were going to be in town! Jeremiah, this is Billie Dean. She's an old friend of the family. Billie Dean, this is Father Jeremiah. He's Michael's live-in tutor and caregiver."

Billie Dean's smile evaporated the moment she laid eyes on Constance. She knew instantly that the woman was dead.

Constance didn't notice her stare. "Well, don't just stand there! Come inside. We'll have some tea. Jeremiah? Bring her bags in, would you?"

The blonde woman breezed away from the door. Billie Dean looked quizzically at the priest who gave her a small smile. He stepped out onto the porch and waited for her to enter before bringing her luggage in.

"So tell me," Billie Dean asked as she followed Constance through the house to the kitchen. She moved slowly, taking in the feel of the house. "What happened?"

She made her way into the kitchen where Constance was putting the kettle on. "Did you hear about the quake? It opened a sinkhole in the back yard next door."

Billie Dean circled the table, eyes on the woman at the stove. "I meant what happened to you."

Constance turned a little to look over her shoulder at her friend curiously. "What do you mean?"

The medium pressed her palms together. She'd seen this sort of confusion before, in others. "Honey, you're dead."

Constance's smile dissolved into a frown. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm as alive as you are."

Billie Dean crossed the kitchen to stand right before her friend. "No. You're not." She locked eyes with Constance and reached to take her hands. "I know a spirit when I see one. They look different to me than the living. I'd never confuse a monkey with a human... or a human for a spirit."

For the first time since the earthquake Constance's confidence wavered. Father Jeremiah and Michael had both been acting very peculiar but what didn't make sense to her she didn't pay attention to. She had known Billie Dean for years and trusted her. But she didn't want to believe what the medium said.

"But that can't be," said Constance, bewildered. "I'm in my house."

Billie Dean squeezed her hands gently. "I don't know what's going on but there's a very dark energy over this place. Whatever has a hold on your old home has followed you here."

"I put the bags in the guest room," Jeremiah said as he came into the kitchen. "I don't know how long you're here for but I can take the downstairs couch for now."

The two women looked over at him and he got the impression he was interrupting something.

"I'll just-" He motioned over his shoulder in the general direction of the front room.

"No," Billie Dean smiled. She put a manicured hand out to him. "Stay. There are things we need to discuss."

Author's Note:

Some might say Ben's reaction to Shelly is harsh. I say it's a positive sign that he didn't try to kill her on sight.

In the show I noticed that some of the ghosts' more prominent character traits got even stronger after their death. Hayden got hornier and angrier. Chad got more obsessive over the house and cleanliness in general. Nora can't stop thinking about her baby. It'll be interesting to see what parts of Constance's personality magnify...

Check out my Profile for my playlist. Next chapter: Monsters love to scare kids.