In the dead of night, when every creature was asleep, Axel walked through the hallways of the Friday Mansion, clutching a flashlight in his trembling hands. His gaze was fixed on the end of the long, dark corridor. The air was cold—so cold that his breath turned into pale white mist.
"Hello?" he called out, stepping cautiously forward. "Anyone there?"
His eyes trembled as his breathing slowed. Then, out of nowhere, a loud howl tore through the hallway. He screamed, dropped the flashlight, and bolted in panic. Fear filled his eyes, his hair stood on end.
"No! No!" he cried, running as fast as he could.
Behind him came heavy breathing—deep, aggressive, deliberate. He dared not look back. It was getting closer. He could feel warm breath brush against his leg. His heart sank. It was over.
"Crap," he muttered.
Something tapped his foot, sending him tumbling down the hall. He crashed into the wall at the end, groaning in pain. The hall echoed with approaching footsteps—or paws. He lifted his head weakly, eyes widening in terror.
"No, no, no…"
He squeezed his eyes shut and crossed his arms in front of his face.
"Stop, Rufus!" he shouted.
Silence.
Slowly, he opened one eye and saw Rufus—the family's Alsatian guard dog—sitting a few feet away, panting happily. Its tongue hung out to the side, drool dripping onto the floor, eyes bright and tail wagging.
"God damn it, Rufus," Axel sighed, pushing himself off the ground. "You keep doing this."
He brushed the dust off his pajamas and glared at the dog, whose tail now wagged even faster.
"Goddamn it," he muttered. "You're loving this, aren't you?"
Rufus barked loudly.
"Shh!" Axel hissed, pressing a finger to his lips. "Terrence is sleeping. Don't wake him up!"
Rufus tilted his head, ears drooping, tongue slipping back in as he stared at Axel.
"Come on," Axel said with a tired smile. "I'll give you a treat—but you have to go to bed after, okay?"
He spoke to the dog as if it were a person.
Just then, a door swung open. Warm light spilled into the hallway, stretching long shadows across the walls. Terrence, Axel's younger twin brother, stepped out, his messy dark hair poking out from under his nightcap.
"Bro? What the hell are you doing?" he mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
Before Axel could answer, Terrence's gaze dropped to Rufus.
"Hungry again?" he muttered. "I swear, Rufus could eat a horse."
Axel let out a quiet chuckle at his brother's joke.
"Yeah, maybe. Help me get him something to eat," he said.
Terrence yawned, stretching his arms overhead before walking past them toward the stairs.
"Come on, boy," he called out.
Rufus barked and bounded after him, tail wagging furiously, paws clattering against the floor. Axel smiled faintly and followed as they made their way to the kitchen.
Terrence flicked the switch, and the massive kitchen lit up. Without hesitation, he walked straight to the fridge and opened it. The cold air rushed out, filling the room as the interior light glowed softly. He rummaged inside before pulling out a transparent, plastic-wrapped plate.
"Looks like we've got leftovers," he said, waving the plate over his head.
Rufus's tail wagged even faster, his eyes locked on the plate as he jumped excitedly around Terrence.
Axel nodded and headed to the cabinets. He reached in and pulled out a box of cereal.
"Might as well eat since I'm down here," he said playfully, grabbing a bowl from the rack. "Pass me the milk."
Terrence reached into the fridge again, grabbed the milk, and shut the door with his foot. He placed both the plate and the jug on the rectangular counter, then slid the milk toward his brother.
"Nice shot, bro," Axel said with a grin.
He opened the cereal box, poured some into his bowl, then twisted the milk cap open and filled it. The chugging sound of liquid filled the silent mansion.
"Okay," he muttered to himself.
He grabbed a spoon from the wall rack and walked out of the kitchen, heading toward the parlor. The large room was illuminated by a massive golden chandelier hanging above three brown couches—one to the right, another to the left, and one directly facing a ninety-five-inch LED TV. A center table rested on a black rug beneath them.
He dropped into the nearest couch, accidentally spilling milk on his pajamas.
"Crap," he muttered under his breath.
He wiped off the spill, leaned back, and took a spoonful of cereal. Smacking his lips, he reached for the remote on the table and turned on the TV. The sudden blast of noise made him jump, nearly spilling milk again.
"Crap!" he cursed, fumbling for the remote. He pressed the volume button repeatedly until the sound lowered.
Moments later, Terrence came out of the kitchen, covering his ears.
"What happened, bro? You almost blew my eardrums out!" he complained.
Axel glared at him. "I should be asking you that—you used the TV last."
"Yeah, but the volume was low when I did!" Terrence shot back.
They bickered briefly, voices echoing in the quiet room—until a sudden clatter silenced them both.
A small metal statue on the center table had toppled over on its own.
The brothers exchanged confused glances. Axel got up, cautiously reaching for the statue. He picked it up, struggling slightly with its weight, then placed it back on the table.
"Okay… not broken," he said aloud.
"You sure, bro?" Terrence asked.
Axel shot him a glare. "I can see, Terrence. Of course I'm sure."
He turned the statue over again, inspecting it closely—then noticed a small crack running along its side. He cursed softly.
Terrence spotted it too and smirked. "Told you."
Before Axel could respond, another voice joined in—soft and unfamiliar.
"Yes, he did tell you," the voice said calmly.
Both brothers froze. Terrence's eyes widened, and Axel stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the rug.
Before them floated a transparent girl, about their age, dressed in a school uniform. Her entire body glowed faintly blue, her feet not touching the ground.
"Hi," she said with a cheerful wave.
Both brothers screamed in unison.
"G–G–GHOST!"