The little girl, though angelic in appearance, had only ever known a life with ghouls, phantoms, and other creatures that lurked in the blackest part of a bedroom when the flame on candles were blown. She, like her mother before her, was born on All Hallows’ Eve. In keeping with the covenant, a part of her spirit belonged to them, and they loved her as much as any haunt could love.
At night, after a book, a lullaby, and a kiss, her father and mother would dim the lights and close the door. It wasn’t long til the creatures appeared to delight the girl with flames dancing on walls or juggling bones dug up from the yard. The ghosts would swing from the chandelier and sing upbeat melodies about witches meeting their untimely ends.
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