"Ghosties (WIP)"
By BoltGreens (https://pastebin.com/u/BoltGreens)

URL: https://pastebin.com/wyHmRvJ8
Created on: Wednesday 20th of March 2019 05:58:17 AM CDT
Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 05:39:20 PM UTC


"Listen Spits, this doesn't concern you anymore, okay?"
>Spitfire looks like she wants to turn you inside out.
>"One, I told you to stop fucking calling me that. Two, it definitely concerns me Anon. This is our fucking cousin you're talking about!"
>You shake your head and throw back the rest of the whiskey.
"You should've talked him out of it while you had the chance, okay? It's not my fault."
>Man, if looks could kill.
>You stand and sigh
"Look, I'll see if I can reason with him, but I can't guarantee anything. That's as good as it gets with me."
>Her scowl softens, but only slightly.
>"Fine, but if I find out you didn't give him the chance, it'll be your head," she huffs, storming out of the bar.
>The bartender makes his way over as you sit back down, smug look on his face.
>"Woman troubles?"
>You roll your eyes, looking to the door Spitfire just left from.
"More like... family matters."
>Your gaze shifts to the bartender: your best friend and business partner Legal Acquisition.
>His steely eyes meet yours with some concern.
>"Is this gonna be a rough one?"
>You shrug.
"It's gonna be as hard as he makes it. I'm just here to stop him; it doesn't matter how."
>He nods, cleaning the glass you polished off moments ago. "What'll it be, then?"
>You glance around to the empty bar, before meeting eyes with Legal.
"Just a switch and a .45," you say, before standing. "2 mags."
>He nods, ducking under the bar-top for a moment before reappearing, equipment in hand.
>You take them and nod to him, holstering the gun in your waistband and tucking the knife into your hoodie.
"I'll be back soon. Keep the door unlocked."
>With that, you head out, ducking through the doorway and into the nearly flooded streets of Canterlot.
>You march across the street to the parking garage.
>The rain only gets heavier as you ascend to the 4th story.
>You pull out your keys and unlock the car, moving some trash before hopping into the front seat.
>You squeal out of the garage and slowly make your way to the old apartment complex.
>It's completely abandoned. Well, except for your cousin.
>You parallel park and get out, putting your hood up.
>You glance around the street.
"Probably a good thing nobody's here. I've never been a good crisis negotiator," you sigh, making your way to the front door.
>When you try the handle, the door basically falls off it's hinges.
"So much for knocking."
>You make your way into the complex, glancing around at the cobweb infested decor.
>After a moment of silence, you spot an elevator.
"Fuck it," you say trying the button.
>No dice.
"Figures," you say, shrugging.
>You slowly make your way up the stairs guided by your phone flashlight, each floor looking more ragged than the last.
>Soon, you make it to the 5th floor, where you hear a thump.
>You sigh and pull out the switchblade and 1911, checking the magazine before popping out the blade.
>Slowly but surely you make your way down the hall, the thumping repeating in a rhythmic pattern.
>Finally you stand before an old door, dust springing from it with every collision.
>You crack your neck.
"Here goes nothing!" You say, kicking in the door.
>It goes flying into the back wall of the old apartment, slamming against the wall with a deafening crack.
>It falls into pieces, revealing a body behind it.
>The body collapses onto the shattered remains of the door.
>You enter and check your corners before training the barrel on the corpse.
>Suddenly, it hits you.
>The scent.
>It's fucking horrid, and you've smelled it before.
>It never fails to make you gag, though.
>As you try to hold in your lunch, the corpse suddenly lunges at you.
>It happens all too quickly for you to react, and you're tackled to the floor.
>Your gun slides across the apartment as you slam your arm against the body on you.
>Something in your back pops when you hit the ground, causing you to groan.
>You just barely hold the gnashing teeth away from your oh so tasty face, scrambling to collect the blade only inches from your fingertips
>Your attempts seem to be in vain though. The teeth soon find a mark on your right ear.
>The pain is excruciating, and you let out a scream as you feel the tip of your ear tearing off.
>Your rage boils over.
>You feel that familiar tingle shoot through you, and your eyes widen.
>Here we go again.
>Your fingertips sharpen as your frame begins to grow, ripping your clothes.
>The feeling spreading across your body isn't really painful, it's more like the warmth of a fire on a cold day.
>Familiar and comforting.
>You slam your claw into the side of your attacker and fling him across the room with a growl.
>The body slams into the wall of the kitchen with a sickening crunch.
>You stand, your head nearly grazing the ceiling.
>You move to the body, taking a closer look.
>He's dead.
>Nothing would survive that. Not even the undead.
>You growl and sigh, slowly calming yourself.
>Eventually you shrink back down, completely naked.
"Fuck," you spit, grabbing at your newly damaged ear and looking around.
>The room is somehow more trashed than it was when you came in.
>You shake your head and groan, leaving your shredded clothes, and grabbing your weapons.
>You look back to the room one last time before you duck through the door frame.
"I fucking hate ghouls."