Finally, the large Victorian that sat at the end of Fair Banks lane had finally come into new ownership. The old house had sat vacant for the last six months, and fallen into foreclosure once again. It was a habit with the property where owner after owner was either run off in the middle of the night, or was suspiciously killed in one way or another. There had been many investigations held, but the LAPD had always come up short, ruling the deaths an accident and assuming the unpaid bills were the result of reckless owners. Little did they know that the stories about the house were real, there were ghosts that roamed the hallways, malevolent spirits that frequently did harm and any real estate agent with half a brain should have known better than to bring a client in for a walk through.

Somehow, in spite of its bloody past, the house had once again been sold. There was a flurry of paranormal activity inside from the spirits within, always happy to have new humans to play with. The sounds of doors opening and closing, the echoing of footsteps across the bare wooden floors remained unheard by the workers outside. The men were merely waiting to start their day, to unload the large moving truck that most of them were currently leaned against. As soon as the doors were opened, all activity would cease. Most spirits didn't like to give themselves away so quickly.

Most spirits, however, weren't Travis Cray. He had only been dead for a few years, but he was still unaccustomed to his new form and longed to walk with the living once more. Being stuck inside the house all day, every day—with the exception of Halloween—had grated on his nerves since the day he had become trapped. It was strange being a ghost, feeling alive but not being able to connect with anyone or anything who wasn't exactly like he was. That was why he was always the first one to come out, pretending to be the next door neighbor in order to continue to grasp at the fleeting sensation of his own life. He knew, of course, that he didn't belong there anymore, but it never hurt to try.

“Someone's here,” Travis announced, looking down at the street from the second story window. A black jeep had just pulled up, and a man had gotten out. It was safe to assume that he was the owner, and sure enough, the doors to the manor were soon unlocked. The movers began to make their way inside, depositing couches, chairs, televisions, and many, many, brown boxes labeled with various rooms in mind. The spirit activity ceased as it always did, but Travis hung around. He, like all of the other ghosts in the house, appeared when they wanted to, and could easily be in a crowded room and still be invisible. He was very interested in the new owners and wanted to know all he could about them. 

In the living room, Travis was busy looking through a box of books with the intention to take a few of them for himself. He loved to read, and it was one of the only things to do in the house. Consequently, the basement now housed a great number of stolen books and Travis had been adding to that collection ever since his death. Still invisible, he looked over when he heard voices and was surprised to see a girl standing in the doorway. Moving closer, he watched as she, apparently Benjamin's sister, hugged her brother. She certainly was a pretty girl, perhaps a little young, but she was full of life and Travis was already drawn to her. 

As Ben left the house, going out to his car, Travis followed Gwen along, watching as she intrusted the movers on where to put things, and then picked out her room. He continued to follow her, silent as ever as she explored the house and when it was time, he ducked around a corner and became visible once more. Straightening out the shirt he had taken from the son of the last owner, Travis knocked on the wall behind Gwen. 

“Hi,” he smiled, always friendly. “I'm Travis. I live next door, I just thought I'd come introduce myself.” He held out his hand to her, hoping she would shake it and that he hadn't frightened her by his sudden appearance.

Just as Travis had been watching the scene take shape, Haley Ryan had been as well. New owners weren't exciting to her, and it was often that she would stay hidden for weeks at a time, not wanting to bother with them. It was only when the humans annoyed her, did she come out to play and even then, it was to scare them into leaving the property for good. Not since Travis had Haley encountered a human she liked so much, and the poor man hadn't even owned the house. She still remembered seeing him, thinking how unstable that ladder looked beneath his feet, and he had such a nice smile that the blonde girl wanted to see it all the time. It had only taken a little kick with her foot to send everything crashing down to the floor, but the way in which Haley got her friends was a secret—one that was meant to be kept.

It wasn't only Travis who had been watching from the window, and Haley had been curious about Benjamin from the moment he stepped out of his car. He was different looking, much younger than the previous owners of the house, and she wanted to know more about him. Already in the back of her mind, the blonde girl could tell that this one was special. He was more special than Travis had been.

As the movers went all over the house, Haley did some inspecting of her own. She walked around Benjamin's office, looked through his papers and over his pictures, trying to get a feel for who he was. Getting know someone was difficult for her, but she had a trick up her sleeve, and Haley was able to watch as much as she wanted, hear whatever she wanted and then work that information back into a future conversation. She faked it like the best of them, and even had in life as well. Just because she had been murdered, didn't mean that her skills had all gone to waste.

Fluffing her blonde tresses in the bathroom mirror, Haley quickly slipped down to the backyard. She walked around the side of the house, making it seem like she had come from the next house over. Ben was at his car on the street, a place that Haley was physically unable to go, so she hung by the front gate instead and wore a friendly, slightly flirty smile.

“Hi there,” she grinned, tilting her head as she looked at Ben. “I wondered when someone was going to buy this place.” She hadn't, actually, and the only previous perk to having humans in the house was furniture. It was much easier to come out in the open when there was something to sit on.