Jackson pressed the handle of the butcher knife into Elle’s hands.
“I mean, look at this place,” he said. “It’s perfect.”
Elle shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know…”
“I’ll be living the dream!” Jackson insisted. “Well, not living, but you get it. Everyone knows you only get to haunt a building if you die horrifically in it.”
“Why not wait, like, fifty years?”
“And be an old man ghost forever? No, thanks. More tragic this way, anyway. Bet that helps. Besides,” he added, “You owe me.”
“Yeah,” Elle sighed. “I do.”
Squaring her shoulders, she started forward, knife raised.
Brittany Hause is a linguist and a member of the SFPA. Their SFF poetry can be found in Star*Line, Abyss & Apex, Asimov’s SF, and other places online and in print. They recently guest-edited an issue of speculative poetry magazine Eye to the Telescope, and they blog about sci-fi/fantasy verse now and again at specpotpourri (https://specpotpourri.wixsite.com/specpotpourri).