The Uninvited Guest's Encore

The spectral inhabitants of Gloomstone Castle slumped, their ethereal forms deflating like punctured balloons. Bartholomew Bones, or Barty as he grudgingly allowed himself to be called by his spectral brethren, ran a bony hand over his hollow eye sockets. It was no use. Pip, the looney boy, was utterly, irrevocably, and hilariously impervious to their terror. He’d treated Seraphina’s bloodcurdling shriek as a delightful operatic flourish, Grumble’s fearsome roar as a hearty welcome, and Barty’s own painstakingly crafted poltergeist performance as a particularly energetic set of party games.

“It’s hopeless, Barty,” Seraphina sighed, her translucent veil shimmering with defeated glitter. She’d tried her most heart-stopping apparition, emerging from a dusty tapestry with a wail that had sent shivers down the spines of lesser mortals for centuries. Pip had clapped his hands, shouting, “Wow! A ghost ballet! Encore!” and then proceeded to try and teach her some new pirouettes.

Grumble, the gargoyle, let out a low, rumbling sound that was less of a growl and more of a mournful sigh. He’d attempted to drop a strategically placed bucket of spectral slime on Pip’s head. The boy had simply ducked, giggled, and then proceeded to use the slime as finger paint, decorating the stone floor with what he declared were “abstract masterpieces.”