Player 7 froze. His blood ran cold. "Ghost?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. The idea of encountering something he couldn't see or touch unsettled him more than any physical threat.
The darkness inside the house felt even more suffocating now. Whatever this "house sweep" was, it wasn't going to be easy—and it certainly wasn't going to be safe. He swallowed hard, pushing down the fear rising in his chest. With a final deep breath, he stepped over the threshold, into the unknown.
The front door of the house creaked behind him, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the halls, and Player 7 found himself standing in a dimly lit dining room. His breath hitched as his eyes adjusted to the strange scene. In the centre of the room stood a massive oak table, unnervingly pristine, as if untouched by the decay surrounding the rest of the hamlet. It gleamed under the weak light, its surface spotless, reflecting the faint flicker of the candles. Around the table, gothic dining chairs stood tall and foreboding, their high backs casting long shadows across the polished floorboards and gothic carpet.
Suspended above the table, an ancient lantern swayed gently, though there was no breeze to stir it. The darkness in the corners was unsettling; thick and oppressive, like a heavy fog, so dense that Player 7 felt he could reach out and touch it. It lingered, unmoving, a silent threat lurking just out of sight.
What unnerved him most, however, were the candles. The small, flickering flames seemed to shift and tilt, their movements unnaturally synchronised with his own. They followed him, almost as if they were alive. It reminded him of wild predators stalking their prey in the dead of night, coiled with tension, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Each flame felt like the cold barrel of a loaded shotgun aimed directly at him — silent, but threatening. Soldiers of flame, standing guard.
The air in the room was impossibly cold, the kind of cold that cut straight to the bone. It felt unnatural, as though the very walls of the house were breathing out fear, using it to conjure up this frigid atmosphere. Each breath Player 7 took came in shallow gasps, the temperature so low that even the flames seemed to burn cold.
It was as if the fear itself had frozen over the house, trapping everything in its icy grasp. He shivered, but not from the cold. Something else was at work here, something dark and ancient, and it was waiting for him to make his move.
A faint groaning sounded from the hallway, and as if by instinct he ran to the table, threw a chair aside and slid under the table to hide from the sinister spectre. The table was barely big enough to hide under, but it worked for the meantime. The cold floor pressed up against his body as he heard the groaning grow louder, the candles and lantern flickered uncontrollably, and the temperature began to drop further. Player 7 pulled up the UI and opened the journal. There were so many redacted entries, but one shone out from the sea of black… Ghost. He expanded the page and began to read the entry.
"Ghosts were the cursed souls of deceased creatures. Due to the fact that souls have no brain or any organs to think, they have no common sense or basic cognitive function. They rely entirely on instinct, meaning they cannot think tactically or use reason whilst hunting or combat. They just do as instinct says. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The list of ghost abilities contains a little number of factually confirmed entries, but there is an extensive list of rumoured abilities that are yet to be verified through research and study at ___________________________. The list of confirmed abilities contains: telekinesis, pyrokinesis, simple levitation, and soul damaging properties. However, the list of rumoured abilities contains: _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________. Ghosts have been known to be able to be exterminated by use of a book of banishment and a blessed cross."
The large amount of redacted information was quite frankly disturbing to Player 7. Why is there redacted information? What do they need to hide? Nonetheless, it was helpful to know what the ghost is capable of and its limitations. The ghost was now in the room, its haunting presence hanging in the air. He could feel his hairs stand on end, the longer the ghost was in the room the further the temperature dropped. He moved so that he could see from under the table, whilst remaining hidden. The entire body of the ghost was now visible, and it was a truly horrifying sight to behold. The semi-transparent figure above was slightly obscured by the fog that was slowly filling the room, but its dim turquoise glow allowed it to be seen from through the darkness. The longer he hid, the thicker the icy fog became. It was surrounded by glowing wisps of blue flame, as if the ghost itself was on fire. The spectral figure seemed to be wearing torn and shredded clothing that barely clung to its emaciated body, so thin it looked as if there was almost no flesh covering its bone. The flesh was visibly damaged and semi-decomposed, as if it had died in a fire while being attacked by a pack of wolves. Finally, with a distorted groan accompanied by a flicker of the lights, the evanescent figure left the room. As soon as it was surely safe, Player 7 slipped out from under the table, dusting himself off. Now, he just needs to find a book of banishment and a blessed cross. How hard could it be?
He began to search the house, occasionally having to slip under furniture or behind a door to avoid the ghost. Eventually, he encountered a boarded up door, which had a faint green light coming from the small gap under it. This strange door peaked his interest, so he began to look around for something to smash the door down with. His lack of experience in this new world so far meant he hadn't been able to level any of his stats yet, so he doesn't have the raw strength to just tear a door down bare-handed.
After some thorough searching, his investigation led him to the lounge. The lounge was perhaps the warmest room in the house, but still cold in comparison to a regular house. It was well-lit and expansive, located at the back of the room was a large gothic fireplace. Leaning on the wall by the fireplace, long and powerful, was a sledgehammer. That was it, that was what he needed. Slowly, he traversed round the seemingly scattered furniture of the lounge. He felt something heavy hit the back of his right knee, and his entire body plunged forwards into the arm of an ancient settee with a loud crash. Struggling back up, he turned over and curiously glanced down to see what hit him, a large hunting rifle was lying on the ground. Then, the familiar frigid temperature and spectral mist began to pour into the room, followed by the disturbing, uncanny groan. He shakily pulled himself back up onto his feet, before crouching down and swiftly manoeuvring himself behind the settee in order to observe what the ghost was doing.
The ghost seemed to be aware of his presence, but not where he was located as of yet. One of the dining chairs suddenly came hurtling through the air and smashed against the settee he was hiding behind like a meteor, a couple chair legs ricocheted off the settee into other pieces of furniture and fragments of wood scattered across the room. He felt as if he was back at war, and had a bomb launched at his trench. Another chair missile was launched into the room but missed and exploded against the wall behind him. The ghost let out a horrifying, ear-piercing scream which poured more mist into the room as he felt himself become lighter, objects in the room started to hover into the air slightly. He seized the chance and flipped the settee in front of him into the air, and just as expected it slowly floated away, so he grabbed one of the broken-off chair legs and threw it at the ghost, before charging toward the fireplace. The floating effect wore off and the settee plummeted straight into the ground, filling the room with a looming cloud of dust as it collapsed upon impact with the ground. The lounge was now reminiscent of a bombsite, debris everywhere covering scattered remnants of destroyed furniture. As he reached the fireplace, he grasped the sledgehammer and sprinted towards the ghost, grabbed another chair and threw it at it, before sliding under the ghost and heading towards the boarded up door. On his way, he ducked under another incoming missile which crashed into the wall next to him, showering the hallway in debris.
Gasping for breath, he shakily raised the sledgehammer before powerfully bringing it down towards the door, smashing away the boards. Each swing was shakier than the last until all the boards were cleared, and a pile of shattered wood layed desolated at his feet. Then, with a resounding crash he forcefully kicked the door down, which flooded the room with the same green light that was seen coming from under the door. He then stored the sledgehammer in his inventory. The warning of the ghost's approach came with yet another flying chair. With this, he knew he had no other choice but to enter the basement.
The basement was alien to any other part of the house, with an otherworldly atmosphere created by the enchanted green flames flickering from the lanterns and candles that lit the room, and the towering bookshelves that appeared to stretch for miles towards the sky. Each shelf was crammed full of thousands of books, while a vast carpet of ancient brown fabric with an intricate black and grey pattern draped across the floor. In the centre of the expansive space stood a colossal round oak table, a mysterious wooden box placed at the centre, adorned with a skull upon its lid. Metal clips kept the box locked, suggesting it was meant to remain forever sealed. A simple wooden cross was lying beside the box, bearing ancient runes and symbols deeply etched into its surface. Yet, at first glance, it seemed unremarkable, failing to obtain immediate attention.
Player 7 crept forward slowly and cautiously, noticing the temperature dropping as he drew closer to the ominous box. He extended his hand towards the lid of the box, which began to freeze over upon touch. The skull adorning the lid's surface glowed a haunting green, and the metal clips sprang open. He carefully moved the chains aside and lifted the lid of the box, allowing a thick, green mist to billow out until the entire expansive study seemed to vanish before his eyes. Summoning his courage, he reached into the box and produced an ancient, black book.
"The Book of Banishment"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the symbols engraved into the delicate surface of the wooden cross begin to strangely glow too. This was apparent to be a blessed cross. With this, Player 7 picked that up too, and stowed both items in his inventory, then proceeded to return upstairs, radiating with a newfound confidence and bravery, ready to finally confront and exterminate the horrid ghost that was lurking within this damned house.
As he arrived atop the staircase, the ghost seemed to have moved rooms. With this, he got another notification:
"Journal Entry 'Ghost' Has Been Updated"
He opened it, to see the full unredacted journal entry on the ghost enemy type.
"Ghosts were the cursed souls of deceased creatures. Due to the fact that souls have no brain or any organs to think, they have no common sense or basic cognitive function. They rely entirely on instinct, meaning they cannot think tactically or use reason whilst hunting or combat. They just do as instinct says. They also have been observed to have occasionally followed orders from what seems to be a "higher power", but this is a very rare occurrence and nobody has ever been able to explain how this came to be, but there are rumours that there may be a sort of ranking system with ghosts, perhaps with a monarchy of some kind. But yet again, there is no concrete evidence to confirm this due to the fact that upon death, the remaining ghost should have lost all ties to its old self and simply roam aimlessly, killing on sight or haunting its place of death. The list of ghost abilities contains a little number of factually confirmed entries, but there is an extensive list of rumoured abilities that are yet to be verified through research and study at The Blackshade Institute. The list of confirmed abilities contains: telekinesis, pyrokinesis, simple levitation, and soul damaging properties. However, the list of rumoured abilities contains: the ability to freeze the essence of fear itself, the ability to transfer people to the realm of shadows, the ability to conjure things from the shadows, complete soul manipulation, shape shifting, and basic reality warping. Ghosts have been known to be able to be exterminated by use of a book of banishment and a blessed cross."
He could sense a strange presence in the dining room, all the way from the kitchen. It must be the ghost, he thought to himself, was this due to the Book Of Banishment?
So, he slowly made his way round to the dining room, taking a mental note of the temperature changes, carefully looking around for any flying objects or any other signs of ghost attack, until he finally arrived at the dining room door, closed and standing sentinel.
He grasped the doorknob with a newfound courage pumping through his veins, and flung the door open. The ghostly figure hovering above the dining room table turned its grotesque head to face him, and he produced the Book Of Banishment from his inventory. The magical power within began to flow up his arm, pulsating in his now glowing nerves and veins. As he then gripped the cross, the room went dark and all he could see was the ghost, highlighted in green. He raised the cross above his head, and the book flung open to a page containing a banishment spell described in detail written in an unknown language, long lost to time. He lowered the cross and pointed it directly at the ghost. The cross' runes began to glow brightly, flooding the room in the same green light. Ropes of ethereal green smoke began to bind the ghost as he chanted in the ancient language written in the book. He had never spoken this language, he didn't even know what he was saying, the words just seemed to be flowing out of his mouth. He felt that he was saying the right things.
More and more coils of ethereal rope shot out of the table as a pentagram seal of light formed in the table, and before the ghost could lash out and set itself free, it was too late. The binding was complete, and the ghost was sealed, violently yanked out of the air and plunged into the pentagram. A bright light flooded the room, blinding him. As the light dissipated, the ghost was gone.
Lying strangely at the centre of the table, as if manifesting from thin air, was a curious dagger. Despite not being able to pinpoint the exact reason, the dagger gave an ominous and cursed feeling. With caution, Player 7 slowly approached the table, closely eyeing the dagger's unusual aura, menacing presence, and the faint, dim purple flame that clung to its blade. Upon reaching the table, he gingerly took hold of the handle. A peculiar sensation rippled up his arm, prompting him to quickly store the dagger in his inventory. There was no time to mess around with cursed artefacts.
Once the cursed dagger was in his possession, Player 7 wasted no time in making a beeline for the house's exit. He didn't want to take any chances by staying in that sinister place even a moment longer. But then, a thought occurred to him; the rifle in the lounge. Should he have retrieved it? Would it be of use? However, the mere thought of holding a rifle again, reminiscing depressingly about his traumatic time in the war, sent chills down his spine. He ultimately decided against it, hurriedly leaving the horrible house behind.