The first thing they told you about my life was how I died.

The second thing? There wasn't a second thing. All I am, all I've become, is a story whispered behind a hand and quickly forgotten: Synthia, first to fall. The poor girl who met a monster in the night, unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and luckless enough to haunt her own tragedy.

Not that they mention that last part, but still, I like to dramatise my would be life.

The first to be killed by the new wave of monsters plaguing the land.

It was kind of poetic if you looked at it sideways.

I focus back on the conversation continuing in front of me, my eyes flitting between the four bodies perched at the kitchen island—my kitchen, thank you—and they talk like they own the place. But no one asked me for permission, and I am nothing if not a stickler for basic manners.

"Don't look at me, I don't even know who I had for breakfast." The twin on the right mutters, Ash.

"Who?" I shout, floating closer to the table, shoving my face into theirs. "Who?!"

"Well, one of you has to remember?"

"Not talking over me would be so polite," I mutter, ignoring the spark of frustration that shoots through me. I turn back to Ash, "Now back to the question, you eat people?"

I throw my hands up when no one answers. Not that I expected them to hear a dead girls pleas. For the whole week since they moved in - which I still don't condone by the way, they haven't heard me, so what would change it?

"You can't go around feeding on the neighbours." Lorcan, the suit, mutters to the twin that spoke.

"I didn't,"

Monsters. Of course they're monsters.

"I thought you may have been a normie, I don't like being proven wrong. Don't do it again." I say to the four of them with a huff that I know they won't hear.

But then, Caelum's head turns slightly, his gaze almost landing on me.

"What is it?" Lorcan asks, his voice clipped. Always prim, always put-together, with this I'm-better-than-you look plastered to his face.

Caelum shakes his head. "Nothing. Thought I heard something."

Me? How delightfully unsettling.

I creep closer, floating just by Caelum's ear, and begin singing, "I'm a little teapot, short and stout...". I hold my breath, even though I'm a dead girl and have no use for oxygen 

He looks my way again, and for a second—just the flicker of a moment—our gazes meet. And suddenly I'm back to that last night I was alive, with eyes locking on mine, a scream caught in my throat. But Caelum blinks, and I'm back to nothing, back to a shadow, back to the ghost of a ghost.

"We're probably haunted," one of the twins says. I think it was Ash. Although is till not sure what the damaged one's name is so I could be wrong.

"Cute." I roll my eyes, floating back a few inches. "Yes, well spotted. A gold star for you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lorcan mutters. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

I lift a hand to my chest like I'm some scandalised maiden and my jaw drops. "Excuse me?" I hover a bit higher, putting my hands on my hips. "There's no such thing as—? Are you even listening to yourself? Look around you. Old house, unexplained drafts, creepy shadows...have you learned nothing from every horror film ever?" I mutter low under my breath, mocking his words. "No such thing, please. You all reek of otherworldly beings and ghosts-" I cut off with another scoff.

But, as usual, they ignore me, continuing to talk as if my presence is as consequential as a speck of dust on the countertop. "Absolutely ridiculous. He can eat people but I can't exist on the ghostly plane?" I mutter incredulously. "That is a ridiculous notion and you need to do more research if you're  going to be living in my mansion."

I huff under my breath, "If you don't leave, we'll be living a long life together of me watching you undress - which I have only done once and it was a total accident and of you all pretending I don't exist - which is hurtful."

I throw a sigh into the universe and look around for my ghostly buddy.

"And of course he's never here when the weird shit happens." I mutter and float back to my corner of the room, continuing to listen to the conversation from afar.

A body passes through the wall to my left and I snap my head to Maxwell.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," I mutter lowly.

"Pardon miss?"

"Nothing, Maxwell." I say, drifting to face him, my back to our interlopers. "We have visitors."

Maxwell looks over my shoulder to the four monsters. "They look like they have moved in."

"Don't say that, if you say it, it may come true."

A tingle races through my body and I shudder, glancing down quickly before back to Maxwell.

"What was that?"

I jump as the sensation continues.

"Stop that it feels weird." I glare at Maxwell.

"It is not me, miss."

"Well then what is it."

I jump when it happens again.

I turn and stare at the person that just walked through me.

Caelum.

"I believe it is called butterflies, miss."

"I don't get butterflies." I shudder at the thought.

Maxwell only tips his head and floats off, I narrow my gaze on his back.

"I don't get butterflies, it's probably herpes or something." I look back at the man's body, "Yes, definitely herpes."

"Wait. Do monsters get herpes." I mutter to myself.

I look between the monsters in my kitchen and shake my head, "No, of course you guys don't." I look at his face, "Although you should. With a face like that we need to stop you reproducing at a fast rate, we'll be overrun by much too pretty monsters that look harmless."

Caelum continues walking, ignoring the babbling of a dead girl, uncaring of my whims.

Typical living creatures, only caring for themselves.

I huff, turning away from the kitchen and floating up the stairs to the wing of the house I've claimed as my domain in the years since I died here, drifting through the doorway to hover in the middle of the room, above the bed.

With a heavy sigh, I drift up the stairs, rolling my eyes at every creak and groan of the floorboards underfoot. No one cares, anyway. I reach the door of what I claimed as my bedroom - aptly named that because it was the last place I'd laid down before I was - well put to rest - except I wasn't doing much sleeping. Hehe.

I float above the bed, arms crossed, staring at the new sheets that have absolutely no business being on my bed. What do these people think they're doing, changing the decor like this? And worse, Caelum seems to have claimed my room as his own. This is the thanks I get for haunting in peace? That they'd move in, rearrange the furniture, and ignore my opinions on the matter?

Caelum walks through the doorway, oblivious as ever, and I narrow my eyes as he approaches the dresser, yanking a shirt over his head. He stands there, half undressed, all smug and unaware, and it's honestly offensive.

"Put your shirt back on when I'm in the room, please," I mutter, but I don't actually look away. He's broad across the shoulders, built like he's spent years training to, I don't know, wrestle bears or something. Which, come to think of it, seems about right for this bunch. My eyes drift to his nipples and I find myself floating closer.

I turn, feeling like a peeping Tom.

"I claimed this room two years ago, you can't have it." I stomp a foot like that will get my point across and turn to look over my shoulder at him.

Caelum wanders straight through me, triggering a strange little shudder in my—well, not my spine, because I don't have a spine anymore, but you know what I mean.

"Stop doing that!"

He stops in the middle of the room, his back tensing as he slowly turns his head to gaze at the four walls boxing us in, his gaze predatory.

"If you're planning to live here, we need to discuss house rules," I say. "Such as, don't redecorate and definitely don't bring in new bedsheets without consulting me first."

He doesn't reply, of course, but something like a shiver passes over him, and he glances my way, almost like he's trying to see me out of the corner of his eye. I keep perfectly still, watching him, waiting for some recognition, some proof that maybe he knows I'm here.

But he doesn't. Instead, he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes for a second, muttering something I can't make out before turning toward the door and leaving me in peace.

I huff, realising I'm participating in a losing game and drift from the room, before pouting over my shoulder at him and delivering a shudder worthy glare. "This isn't over."

He doesn't react to my Oscar worthy performance.

I float just beyond the door, my arms crossed and my mouth pressed into a stubborn line as I glare at Caelum from the hallway. How dare he move into my room, sleep in my bed, and traipse around as though he owns the place? A week ago, this mansion had been mine alone. Sure, the drafty halls and echoing silence could get a bit oppressive, but it was my kingdom.

And now he and his brood of monstrous roommates have claimed it as their own.

I lean back in, peeking through the doorway. Caelum stands there, his back still turned to me, his posture tense. His shirt's gone, revealing broad shoulders and a back marked with strange, intricate symbols. Runes, maybe, but I don't recognize them, and I spent plenty of time studying these things after my... untimely demise. As much as I could anyway, with no way to flip the pages on the book but sometimes Maxwell took pity on me.

Not that it matters. He may have the body of a warrior, but he's as irritating as all the other monsters who walk through that door, leaving murder and mayhem behind.