GHOST HUNTERS

You might imagine a ghost to be an evil presence that haunts a specific area and kills people. Well, you’re not entirely wrong. But as an expert on ghosts and spirits, I’d have to say there’s more to it.

First of all, ghosts are only evil when they want to be. If a spirit is driven by a twisted desire or a massive grudge, then they’ll be an evil spirit, seeking revenge or destruction. But most of the time, they’re just tiny nuisances in a normal person's life. How do I know this? Let me introduce myself.

I’m Florence Cunningham, a twenty-five year old ghost hunter in an age where ghosts are all over the place. You may be expecting my backstory of becoming a ghost hunter to be dark and full of emotion, but that’s kind of not the case. You see, I came from a pretty normal family, with normal parents and surrounded by normal people. It would have been entirely normal if my childhood home wasn’t right next to a cemetery. And the ghosts there loved to be annoying.

As a kid, I would always try to get a full ten hours of sleep to function throughout the day, but my room was directly parallel to the graves of a bunch of a heavy metal rock band that died a while ago. If you were wondering, no, they didn’t make music, they made a bunch of heavy, metal rocks and formed a band of people to throw them around. I don’t even think heavy metal was a genre in the late 1800’s.

But as I dozed off, the ghosts would rise and throw their stupid rocks around, causing a racket that never allowed me to sleep. The story of my life. Perhaps that was my main motivation for becoming a ghost hunter, so other little girls in the future could get a full night’s sleep without some ghosts ruining their beauty rest.

So now, I’m running my own ghost extermination business out in a small town.

Enough about the past, let’s talk about now. Or more like almost in the present but still kind of in the past.

Business was never that great, but when I did get a client, it was normally for a big job so I got enough funds to sustain myself. But that all changed when I met a kid named Spence Hunter, or should I say, when the kid stumbled into my office one day.

That day, I remember sitting in the blistering summer heat with a book in my hands and my feet on my desk. Around noon, I heard the sound of people chattering outside, but I didn’t bother to check what it was. There were a couple shuffling noises, the sound of dirt scratching, and a triumphant yell from what sounded like two people.

“Aw, man!” cried the third person, who was clearly a male. “How come I always lose?”

“Maybe ‘cuz you’re just bad at this game!” another voice teased, this time female.

“Now, what are you most afraid of?” another male voice asked. I heard the poor boy whimper.

“I’m not answering that…”

“Hey, didn’t he say something about being REEAALLLYY scared of ghosts?” the female voice remarked. I could practically hear the smirk on her face.

“How convenient, we’re right next to a ghost extermination service!” the other male noted. “He can work there!”

“All this for a tic-tac-toe game?!” the losing male wailed.

I heard the two others say something about “the best idea ever” and I heard two sets of feet dragging something towards my office’s entrance.

“Nooooo, stop!” the boy cried. “I heard that the lady running it is scary!”

Well, that was offensive. Not really. I could be scary when I wanted to. I was always told that my sharp green eyes could frighten any person or creature away. That applied to ghosts, too.

Before I knew it, the boy stumbled through my doorway and fell on his face like an absolute idiot. I quickly removed my feet from the table and closed the book, setting it beside me. His friends giggled and stood at the entrance beside him.

“Cunningham Ghost Extermination Service, how may I help you?” I asked with a cool expression, not wanting the kids to know I eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Spence here wants to be your apprentice!” the female announced as the boy who I realized was Spence got up.

I didn’t get a good look at him when he first entered, but now that he stood up, I could see that he had messy, medium-brown hair and dark-brown eyes. He slowly stood to his full height of around 5’10 and I noticed he was a lanky kid, probably pretty weak too.

“An apprentice, eh?” I leaned forward on my desk and laced my fingers. “I normally go about my jobs alone, but I guess it would be nice to have someone along.”

That was kind of a lie. As apathetic as I am to literally everything else, something inside me told me to get this kid out of trouble by playing along with his friends’ game.

“All settled!” the other boy waved to Spence. “Have fun at your new job!”

He and the girl then smiled and walked away.

When I was sure that the two had left, I said to Spence, “You know, you don’t actually have to take on this job. I was just playing along to get you out of trouble.”

Nervously twiddling his thumbs, Spence looked up at me and replied, “No, I want to do this. I don’t want to come off as a total wimp to my friends.”

That kind of surprised me. This was bravery on a new level, agreeing to do something that you’re scared of. But before I answer him, a mailman I never noticed charged into the room, startling Spence as he fell to the floor once again

“Are you Miss Cunningham?” he asked, digging through his mail bag.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” I responded. “What is it?”

“There’s an urgent letter for you,” he dug out an envelope and handed it to me. “Now, I must be going!”

He charged out the door once more and knocked Spence, who just got up, off his feet again.

I checked the sender on the letter. Teresa Gun… where have I heard that name before? My memory clicked. Teresa Gun, the inventor of guns! Tearing open the envelope, I quickly scanned the contents of the letter:

Dear Miss Florence Cunningham,

This is an urgent matter. There are thirteen ghosts haunting my manor and I can’t get them out! Please help me eliminate these spirits. In the event that you succeed, I will pay you grandly.

From, Teresa Gun

My mind did a backflip and my pupils must have expanded to about two times its size.

“Spence! You are now my apprentice!” I called out to the trembling boy.

Throwing the letter to the side, I reached into a drawer in my desk and pulled out a summer uniform from it. The outfit consisted of a short-sleeved collared shirt, a vest, slackers, gloves, a pair of goggles, and a utility belt. From another drawer, I grabbed an earpiece and marched up to Spence, dropping the clothing into his arms.

“Hu-huh?!” Spence squeaked, surprised.

“You said you didn’t want to be seen as a wimp, right?” I stuck my hands on my hips. “Well, I’ve got an important job and I want you to come along. Get changed in that room, and let’s get on our way!”

Spence broke into some weird bow and “yes, ma’am” and “I’ll get right to it, ma’am,” then rushed into the room. That marked the beginning of my first adventure with Spence, which certainly wasn’t the last.