Quarantine Monster Short: Paranormal Prankser

 Sharon sighed in disgust as she took in the kitchen. Every cupboard and draw was wide open. “When did Peter start leaving the kitchen like this?” She glanced upward toward his second story office, shook her head, and started closing everything.

Three weeks into the pandemic lockdown, and it was the longest uninterrupted time she and her husband had ever spent under one roof before. All of the little irritating things he did were starting to increase in annoyance. Sharon took a few deep breaths to quell the rising anger, refilled her water bottle, and headed back up the stairs. “Peter, next time you open every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen, can you please close them when you’re done?”

“What?” Peter yelled through the open door but didn’t look up from his computer.

“Close stuff when you’re done in the kitchen.” Sharon repeated as she passed the doorway.

Peter jerked back when the overhead light went dark. “Hey!” He glanced up at the intact bulb, then over to the switch. There was just enough light streaming in from the hallway to see it in the off position.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Why’d you turn off my light?”

“What?” Sharon yelled from the bedroom.

“Why’d you turn off my light?”

“I didn’t touch your light!”

Peter rolled his eyes and slowly got out of his chair, stretching out the kinks with a groan and toddled over to flip the light back on. “It didn’t just shut itself off and she knows I can’t work in the dark. It hurts my eyes,” Peter muttered as he retook his seat.

The ghost in the doorway threw its hands in the air. “Come on! What do I have to do to get you people to react?!” It pulled the office door shut with a slam.

Peter jumped. “Dammit, Sharon! Why’d you do that?” he yelled.

“I didn’t touch your light! You don’t need to slam your door about it!” Sharon’s voice grew louder and faded as she passed the door and went back downstairs.

Peter harrumphed and put on his headphones, hoping some music would help him get some work done.

The ghost poked its head through the door to glare at Peter before following Sharon to the first floor. It watched her bustle around, moving laundry from the washer to the dryer, pick up forgotten dishes in the living room, and load them into the dishwasher before starting out. She pulled the trash bag out of the can and headed out to the garage.

Opening the cabinets and drawers in the kitchen hadn’t been enough to spook the humans. Peter and Sharon had always managed to blame the ghost’s tricks on each other but never confronted each other so they hadn’t figured out that it was something else causing the turmoil in the house. When they started spending all of their time at home, the ghost hoped they were finally going to figure out it was there but they somehow still managed to blame the other for the ghost’s pranks and it wasn’t happy about it.

The ghost wandered over and opened the dryer just enough to stop it but not enough that the door was visibly open. It also knocked the broom over so it fell across the garage door. Now, if somebody tried to come in through it, the broom would wedge against the washer and the door wouldn’t open. The ghost headed back to the kitchen, thinking that doing the drawer and door trick a second time might be enough to send Sharon and Peter over the edge. It also dumped most of the milk down the drain, leaving a tiny bit left in the carton, and put it back in the fridge.

The ghost strolled around the ground floor, looking for more tricks to play on the couple. When it couldn’t think of anything else to do, it headed for the stairs. Just then, Sharon tried coming back into the house from the garage. The door hit the broom and caught, slamming the broom into the washer with a lough bang.

“What the hell? Peter!” Sharon yelled.

The ghost smiled and continued up the stairs.

Peter walked through the ghost on his way to the kitchen and shuddered at the sudden cold spot the ghost created. He heard the banging coming from the laundry room and went to investigate. Seeing the broom across the door, he reached for it, right as Sharon tried opening it again, effectively pinching his fingers.

“Dammit, Sharon, hold on a minute!” He growled as she shook the pain from his hand. He cleared the broom and opened the door to glower at his wife who matched him glare for glare.

“Why’d you lock me out?” Sharon yelled.

“I didn’t lock you out! The broom was blocking the door. You probably knocked it over when you went out. Be more careful.” He stomped out of the laundry room. “Speaking of careful, I think you broke my hand.” He walked into the kitchen for ice and noticed everything open. “What’d you do in here?”

Sharon followed him in and her mouth fell open. “You opened everything back up after I yelled at you for doing it earlier?! Was this what you were doing while I was locked in the garage?”

“Why would I do any of this?” Peter asked as he shoved things shut on his way to the freezer. The no-slam cupboards and drawers denied him a satisfying slam, increasing his irritation.

“I don’t know! Why do you do anything?” Sharon screeched as she stomped up the stairs, only to discover the ghost had been busy.

There was toilet paper all over the upstairs, like somebody had grabbed the end of the roll and just wondered room to room, leaving piles and trails where they went.

“Peter!” Sharon screamed.

Angry grumbles accompanied Peter’s heavy footfalls on the stairs. “What now?” He stopped, just behind Sharon, his mouth hanging open at the sight. “How did you have the time to do this? You just got up here,” he marveled.

“I didn’t do this!” Sharon growled, turning on her husband. “You did! We can’t waste toilet paper like this. There’s a shortage! Roll this back up!”

“You think I did this?” Peter was stunned.

“Well, it wasn’t me! Who else could’ve done it?!”

“Finally!” The ghost crowed in victory as he slammed every door in the house shut.

The couple screamed.