Trick-Or-Treat!

"We'll be heading in now, so watch your step."

Ookami led the way up onto the Japanese-style porch. She didn't take her shoes off, and she hoped Konata had enough sense not to either.

She pushed open an old screen door, one that the rice paper had already fallen off of. "This is the living room," she said, gesturing around. The furniture, which was European in nature, was still there, badly water-stained as it was. The only thing that seemed unharmed was a portrait over the mantle, a large painting of an older man in a kimono.

"This is the former owner of this building, Tokiko Keichiro," she said. Then as the script said, "Perhaps if we're lucky, we'll be meeting him tonight." She hardly sounded thrilled, though. She honestly didn't believe in any of this.

"He was certainly distinguished," the baron commented. "I wonder if he really is haunting this place."

The baron's ears flicked around. All the strange noises. "They aren't rodents, too loud for that," he commented. "It sounds like a person."

Ookami shrugged. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she had her metal cat-shaped gloves. They would be safe if someone was trolling them. "None of this is faked," she said, pulling her gloves out and putting them on her fists.

"In American horror movies, it's often the funny guy first," the Baron mused, "then the otaku. The second to last is usually the one who almost figures it out, and then the sexiest woman usually survives to be traumatized and to tell the story to others, lending the movie 'credibility' of some sort when they say 'based on a true story.' That, and they don't want to kill of the person all the viewers are ogling."

At Rika's words, the Baron looked at her curiously. "Those are most certainly not our footsteps," he said, confirming what she'd postulated. "They're coming from down the hall."

Ookami went to the screen door separating this part of the building from the others and through it open. No one was in the hall. There was no sign anyone had been. "Looks like it was our imagination," she said, turning back to the others.

No sooner had she turned her back on the hall did she feel something's icy breath on her neck. Reflexively she swung her fist at whatever it was breathing on her. It passed through an icy spot in the air, but met no resistance. She spun around again, but still no one was there.

Doing her best to keep her composure, she said, "Was there something behind me just now?" Her voice didn't waver. The only way someone could tell she was frightened was the sweat dripping down her face, but as she wasn't facing them, no one could see.

"That, and it's a Japanese sliding door," the Baron pointed out. "I don't think the wind could slam those."

"The house could be at an angle," Ookami said, hoping that was the case. "If the sliding door's at an angle, it could close on its own."

"We ought to stick together," the Baron advised before anyone could head off on their own. "It might go well for the Scooby gang whenever they split up, but that's a cartoon about a talking dog."

Ookami had to agree with the cat. There was safety in numbers. Especially as this didn't seem like a prank set up by the club that had hired her. She pulled out her flashlight and flicked it on. "Stay close. Hopefully you all brought flashlights of some kind?"