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This Old (maybe definitely haunted) House
Dec. 6th, 2020 08:39 amJoe was not a violent person by nature, never had been, but joining the military had been the only viable way out of his circumstances, and so he'd done so, like many other people did.
Joe had learned a great many things while he was in the army. Mostly he'd learned that he still didn't like violence, even despite the fact that he was, apparently, good enough at it to warrant being selected for a special unit.
Of course, selection might also have been random, none of them knew.
He'd also learned that werewolves were terrifyingly real, though not always terrifying in and of themselves. More than that he'd learned, when it was all over and he was the only one left, just the lengths that the government would go to to keep that kind of information a secret.
Which was how, at the ripe old age of thirty-three, he was a homeowner. One about as far away from Washington DC as he could get without going off the mainland, which he'd been strongly encouraged against. Mostly he'd picked the neighborhood, on the outskirts of Seattle, because he wanted to live somewhere that had actual seasons, and he'd picked the house because of the basement. Someplace he could keep himself out of trouble over the full moons.
Really the only problem with the house was that it was, in fact, already occupied. It hadn't taken him long, just the first week, to figure out that the other man was a ghost, and really he figured if werewolves were real, it only made sense that ghosts were as well. He'd learned that aside from just talking to him, one of the best ways to keep him occupied was to leave the TV on as if he was a housepet that got lonely being home alone.
Of course, there was also the issue where he hadn't actually explained about renovating the basement, not the way he had with the few upstairs changes he'd made so far, because he was supposed to be keeping the fact of what he was a secret, and he didn't know if that carried over to people who were already dead.
Though with only a few days until the full moon, and his time to come up with something, or just come to a decision one way or the other, was dwindling and he knew it, it was part of why he was as focused as he was at adding hardware to the inside of the basement door, hasps for three padlocks along with a small combination-lockbox to put the keys in. He wouldn't be able to turn the dials with paws, but would once he changed back in the morning.
Joe had learned a great many things while he was in the army. Mostly he'd learned that he still didn't like violence, even despite the fact that he was, apparently, good enough at it to warrant being selected for a special unit.
Of course, selection might also have been random, none of them knew.
He'd also learned that werewolves were terrifyingly real, though not always terrifying in and of themselves. More than that he'd learned, when it was all over and he was the only one left, just the lengths that the government would go to to keep that kind of information a secret.
Which was how, at the ripe old age of thirty-three, he was a homeowner. One about as far away from Washington DC as he could get without going off the mainland, which he'd been strongly encouraged against. Mostly he'd picked the neighborhood, on the outskirts of Seattle, because he wanted to live somewhere that had actual seasons, and he'd picked the house because of the basement. Someplace he could keep himself out of trouble over the full moons.
Really the only problem with the house was that it was, in fact, already occupied. It hadn't taken him long, just the first week, to figure out that the other man was a ghost, and really he figured if werewolves were real, it only made sense that ghosts were as well. He'd learned that aside from just talking to him, one of the best ways to keep him occupied was to leave the TV on as if he was a housepet that got lonely being home alone.
Of course, there was also the issue where he hadn't actually explained about renovating the basement, not the way he had with the few upstairs changes he'd made so far, because he was supposed to be keeping the fact of what he was a secret, and he didn't know if that carried over to people who were already dead.
Though with only a few days until the full moon, and his time to come up with something, or just come to a decision one way or the other, was dwindling and he knew it, it was part of why he was as focused as he was at adding hardware to the inside of the basement door, hasps for three padlocks along with a small combination-lockbox to put the keys in. He wouldn't be able to turn the dials with paws, but would once he changed back in the morning.
