Even though these new people had just moved in, the house already felt more lively. Travis was one of the only permanent guests who had been sad to see the last family go, even if they hadn't been all that interesting. There was just something dismal about the empty rooms of the house, the lack of footsteps over the creaky floorboards and the deafening silence that washed over everything. Not every spirit agreed with Travis's love of the living, of course, and there were a choice few that chose to stay hidden whenever there were humans around. They were harmless; it was those who came out to play that were the ones to worry about. Spirits like Haley were dangerous and unstable. Travis didn't want to see anyone else fall victim to this strange place.

As the girl turned around, Travis hadn't noticed the picture in her hand, but the sound of shattering glass startled him. He hadn't meant to sneak up on her, but it was something that he had become increasingly good at ever since dying. “Sorry,” he chuckled, smiling sympathetically as he looked back from all of the glass on the floor. “I didn't mean to do scare you,” he explained, shaking her hand.

Crouching down on the floor with her, Travis helped to pick up the bits of broken glass. The shards were sharp and a few stuck into his fingers, but there wasn't much pain. He didn't feel much of anything anymore, and had been mortally wounded a handful of times in the house, only to get up and walk it off like it was nothing. A few cuts on his fingers in exchange for a conversation only seemed too easy. “It's nice to meet you, Gwen, and I really am sorry about this.” Travis continued to pick up the shards of glass, but he couldn't help but notice the picture. He moved some of the glass aside. “Is this your family?” He sat back on his knees and pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his hand before reaching out and wrapping it around her finger. Some pressure would stop the bleeding before she could get a bandage on it.

Perhaps the most dangerous thing about Haley was that she knew she was pretty, and that men were weak. Where there was weakness to be exploited, there was always power to be had and Haley always felt the need to be in control. Most of her short life among the living had been spent trying to stay on top—to be the most popular, the most pretty, the most fun, the most anything. It had become an obsession for her, and the blonde girl certainly wasn't one to play nice when it came to someone standing in her way. There was the time during her freshman year of college, when a senior hadn't wanted to date her anymore and Haley had slashed his tires and anonymously threatened to have his new girlfriend killed. In death, Haley actually was a killer.

However, Ben didn't need to know any of that and Haley didn't have a problem keeping it from him. It was easy for her to reign in the darkness and fool strangers into thinking she was normal. Reaching out, the blond shook Ben's hand and peered over at the CD's he was holding. “I'm Haley,” she said, walking with him toward the house. “I live next door with my step brother, Travis.” Because that was an easy lie, and something to be assumed when she was sure that her friend had already come out from the shadows. As long as Ben and his sister didn't actually go next door, her lie would be the truth. 

The blush Ben wore on his cheeks was sweet, and Haley liked him already. It never took her very long to fall for someone, and she had taken a liking to Travis in record time without even speaking to him first. The tattooed man at her side was perhaps faster than that. “You don't look like the type for a house like this,” she mentioned as she eyed his CD's once more, “but at least you like good music. Is that Journey?” She smiled and reached over to tap the side of the album. “I love them.” Her music taste was rather outdated, but Haley could still sing along to [i]Don't Stop Believing[/i] with the best of them.