Shortly after high school graduation, my grandmother died. She left me a LOT of money. I decided to buy this house. It was cheap, and in need of some work, but it was full of potential. It was an old Victorian with a history of people moving in and out of it rather quickly. But I didn't care. I had enough money to buy the house of my dreams at eighteen, so I did it. With all that money, I also decided to take a year off before college. Discover myself, all that bullshit.
I found out rather quickly why the house was purchased and sold so many times. I moved into the house in September four years ago, and that Halloween, it happened for the first time. I had been to a Halloween party with a few of my girlfriends. None of had boyfriends, so we all just dressed up in slutty costumes, and flirted shamelessly with every good-looking vampire and well-built mummy at the party.
I was a little tipsy when I got home, but not too far gone. I took off my cat ears, and flopped down on my bed wearing my black bodysuit and fishnets. I was sobered up very quickly when the light in my room went out, and I felt a hand fondling my breast. I jumped up quickly and flipped the lights back on. No one was there.
I decided that perhaps I was imagining things, or more drunk than I'd thought. I went into the bathroom, and drew a hot bubble bath. As the water filled my claw-foot tub, I washed the cat makeup off of my face at the sink. While I was leaning over, splashing my face, I felt a hand grabbing my ass. I whipped around and again no one was there.
At this point I was rather frightened, more about my mental health than anything else. I looked in the mirror, and saw my pale face looking back at me. My dark hair contrasted against it strongly, and I smiled thinking what a cute cat I must have been. The mirror was steaming up from the hot water, and I saw a heart drawn in the steam. The smile fell from my face as I stared at it. A line was being drawn through the heart as I watched. As a "v" shape transformed the line into an arrow, I buried my face in my hands.
I looked back up, and the mirror was normal again. Steamy, but without any weird drawings. This can't be happening, I told myself. It simply can't. I'm dreaming. Or maybe hallucinating. That's it, I decided, someone slipped me something at the party, and it was making me hallucinate. I just need to getting into the hot bathwater, and let the effects wear off.
I took off my clothes and sunk into the water. The hot water felt amazing. I leaned back against the tub, and closed my eyes. I breathed deeply, and thought about the party that I'd been to. A better-looking than usual Austin Powers had fingered me in a dark corner. I'd sucked the big black dick of a guy in a hobo outfit. I wished he would have fucked me, but it didn't go that far. One of my cat friends had also made out with me, and we fondled each other's tits for awhile. A very good party indeed. I got wet just thinking about it.
Then I felt something. Something was playing at my pussy lips. I jumped a little, but not out of the tub. I reached down. Nothing was there. I replaced my hand to the side of the tub, where it had been. What could be happening here? The thing, which felt very much like a finger returned to my pussy lips, and slid up to my clit. It rubbed my clit slowly, and I let it. It felt so damn good! I didn't care what kind of crazy shit was going on; it felt so fucking good.
I pressed my crotch more solidly into the force that was pleasuring it. The "finger" rubbed my clit until I was blinded with ecstasy. I felt an orgasm creeping towards me at an agonizingly slow rate. I needed to wrap my legs around someone, to press my body into someone. But I was alone. So I climaxed wildly, flailing about in the water, as my pussy thumped savagely with intense pleasure. Once this incredible, yet maddening feeling passed, I slumped into the tub weakly. I closed my eyes, and waited for my breathing to return to normal.
The following morning, I woke up feeling very strange. I took me a moment to remember the events of the previous evening. What was that? I asked myself again. The only thing that made any sense at all was the obvious. It had to have been a ghost. It would explain why people moved in and out of here so often. I was never a believer in such things, but now I was reconsidering. It was either believe in ghosts or resign myself to being insane. I chose the prior. I headed to the library immediately. Librarians are always of help in these situations on television.
She was a big help in reality, as well. Marilyn showed me the microfiche files where I could find newspaper articles. Her face lit up when she heard what I was looking for, "You're the girl who bought the Archer place?" She asked excitedly, "We don't need to look that up. I can tell you anything you need to know about that place!"
"Tell me everything," I said to her. Marilyn proceeded to tell me that a couple, Cal Archer and his lovely, deaf wife Laura were the original owners. Twenty years after they died, sometime in the sixties, the scandal came out. Apparently, the room that I was just storing stuff in at the time was the room they shared. The room that I sleep in was where Cal entertained his nightly guests. They'd lived in the house together around ten years when Laura somehow discovered his infidelity. She killed him on Halloween night of 1949. Laura went insane shortly after that, and killed herself in the asylum that she'd been sent to. I don't know how the whole town came to know all of this in such detail, but it seems everyone knows about it. The realtors keep selling the house to ignorant out-of-towners who don't know the house's history, or that no one stays in it for long.
"Why did you come looking for information anyway?" Marilyn asked.
"Well, something happened," I paused, and looked into the young librarian's innocent face. I'm not a trusting person, but I decided to trust her with my secret anyway, "Last night, the ghost of Cal Archer…" It was harder than I'd expected to say the words.
