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They Met Their End in a Reflection.

"I wasn't aware we'd even reached such a state."

"Well, we have."

"Hell. Well, what now?"

"I'll tell you what now. We die."

"Oh, come on! We die? Surely there's got to be a better solution than that."

"And what do you suggest, then? We're in the middle of a house. A haunted house, mind you. I don't even believe in haunted houses, and here we stand in the middle of one, you bleeding, me with a broken something or other..."

"Femur."

"Femur. Yes, femur. In the middle of a haunted house, bleeding and broken, thanks for the biology. Thanks."

"It's just a little cut."

"They put staples in those kinds of 'little cuts', man. Besides, my femur, remember?"

Brandon and Nate went on like this. They just kept on going. It is said that all men live lives of quiet desperation. These fellows were living it quite loudly. Something floated into the room. A distinctive 'oooooooooh' sound came from it.

"'Ooh'," Nate said. He was looking up at a ghost, a rather sad looking character with a semidetached upper cranium and a gaggle of chains around it.

"'Ooh,' that's the best you can do? For God's sake. That's pathetic. And what's with the chains? Who do you think you are, Jakob Marley?"

"Not very polite," the ghost whined. "Not very polite at all. I shall send Sebastian in here to deal with you momentarily. In the meantime, enjoy this." The ghost dropped a grouping of chains onto Nate.

"SHIT! Ouch. Get out of here before I find a vacuum cleaner and suck your ass into oblivion!"

"Hmmph," the ghost retorted.

"And tell Sebastian not to bother! If he's as pathetic as you, we'll die of boredom before fright."

Brandon gave Nate a sharp look. "Look, that one might not be much. But it doesn't seem smart to me to piss off a ghost. One's gotta figure he's got friends."

"Let's hope they have a mop."

"A mop," Brandon asked.

"Yeah," Nate said, "you're bleeding all over the floor."

Not so long and we find Nate and Brandon in one of the many hallways, Nate hobbling and complaining, Brandon bleeding. The hallway was lined with doors, all locked. Dust flew at every try on each doorknob, making Nate sneeze. Brandon stopped, tore a piece of his shirt and tied it around his arm, the bleeding now profuse. As he looked up, he jumped a bit. Around the corner, at the end of the dark hallway, a massive creature lumbered into the dim.

"Oh hell," Brandon whispered.

"What? What!" Nate yelped.

"Look. And shut up."

Nate looked and turned as pale as Brandon, as if he too had been losing blood.

"Oh. Damn.

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