Chapter 12: Ghost App-titude: There's a Haunting for That
825 Words
Chapter 12: "Ghost App-titude: There's a Haunting for That"
It was a quiet morning in Apartment 3B.
Suspiciously quiet.
Which, in Jamie’s world, meant something was about to explode, whisper ominously, or try to sell him ghost insurance.
He sipped his coffee. “I swear, if one more piece of haunted furniture tries to join a union…”
> BEEP.
Brenda, the sentient toaster, popped up a slice of bread burned with the words: “DOWNLOAD THE APP.”
Jamie blinked. “The app?”
Ghostie phased through the wall wearing pixelated sunglasses and holding an iPad.
> “Jamie! Great news! We got upgraded to GhostNet 4.0! Faster Wi-Fi! More haunting bandwidth! Access to the Supernatural App Store!”
Jamie frowned. “There’s an app store for the dead?”
> “There’s an app store for everything. You just never saw it because your aura was set to ‘Basic.’ I fixed it.”
“You what?!”
> “Shh. We’re installing apps.”
App #1: Ghostr
“The Premiere Paranormal Dating App.”
The moment it downloaded, Ghostie’s screen filled with profiles like:
Lilith, 302 years undead. Likes fog, jazz, and long disembodied strolls on the beach.
“Baron Rot,” 666, professional wailer. Recently decomposed. Still emotionally available.
Ghostie giggled like a high schooler.
> “Swipe right for eternal romance!”
Jamie snatched the iPad. “This app screams heartbreak and maybe mild possession.”
> “Exactly! Exciting, right?!”
App #2: BOOgle Maps
This haunted GPS system used cryptic directions like:
“Turn left where the shadows cling.”
“Continue until the air tastes metallic.”
“If you see the screaming scarecrow, you’ve gone too far.”
Jamie tried to use it to find the grocery store.
He ended up in a forest that didn’t exist on normal maps, talking to a raccoon wearing a monocle who offered him “bargain curses.”
App #3: Hauntergram
A ghost-only social media platform.
Ghostie posted a selfie with Jamie in the background, mid-sneeze.
Caption: “Roommate caught mid-summoning LOL #LivingProblems #DeadSexy”
Jamie yelled from across the room, “Take that down!”
> “Too late. It already got 203 likes from spirits in rural Pennsylvania.”
The weirdest part?
Jamie’s phone had updated too.
Apps had appeared that he definitely didn’t install:
“Polterguy Pro: For When You Want to Haunt Back”
“Deadlines: A Scheduler That Screams When You Procrastinate”
“AfterLife360: Track your past lives in real-time!”
He tapped AfterLife360.
His screen flashed. Then:
> You were: a disgruntled scribe, a sea cucumber, and briefly a goat lawyer in 17th-century France.
Jamie turned to Ghostie. “Why would I need to know this?!”
> “Character development.”
The Trouble Begins
It wasn’t long before the apps began misbehaving.
BOOgle Maps started opening portals.
Jamie opened his fridge and nearly got sucked into a medieval marketplace where ghosts bartered for cucumbers and dignity.
Ghostr accidentally matchmade Ghostie with a poltergeist who only spoke in angry riddles and communicated by flinging forks.
Worse, Deadlines began screaming every time Jamie tried to nap.
> “SNOOZING ISN’T PRODUCTIVITY!” it yelled in demonic capslock.
Jamie grabbed a frying pan and chased his phone around the kitchen. “TURN IT OFF!”
Brenda beeped helpfully and tossed him a ghost-buster USB stick. He jammed it into the wall socket.
Everything stopped.
Jamie sighed. “Okay. No more apps. I’m deleting them all.”
Ghostie’s Intervention
> “But Jamie,” Ghostie said softly, holding his haunted tablet like a child with a dying Tamagotchi, “I’ve already ordered haunted meal kits. And I joined a ghost fitness class. And I was invited to a spectral TED Talk about toxic afterlife masculinity.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “...Did you just say ‘spectral TED Talk’?”
> “It’s real! And I RSVP’d ‘enthusiastically possessed.’”
“Ghostie, the apps are haunted.”
> “We’re haunted.”
“Okay, more haunted than usual.”
The Final App
One last app installed itself. No one downloaded it. No one clicked anything.
It appeared on both their devices, glowing faint red.
App Name: ERROR404: Who’s Watching?
Ghostie frowned. “That… doesn’t sound friendly.”
Jamie tapped it.
The lights in Apartment 3B flickered.
Brenda spun in a circle and beeped out Morse code for “Nope.”
A distorted voice came through both devices.
> “Connection established. Streaming will begin… now.”
Suddenly, every screen in the apartment lit up. The walls shimmered. Reality seemed to tilt.
They were being watched.
A glowing “LIVE” icon appeared in the air above Jamie’s head.
He turned to Ghostie. “Are we being… streamed?”
> “To who?!”
Another message blinked onscreen:
"Welcome to Deadflix Live! Watch real humans suffer in cursed apartments! Season 1 begins…"
> “Now.”
- Writer
