FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"See ya, Crisp." Someone shouted out, a single voice among a flurry of slurred farewells as a whole assortment of vampires, werewolves, ghouls and the occasional Superdog stumbled out of a once pristine home into the Halloween night.

Crisp raised his hand up and gave it a short wave to whoever was bidding him farewell. The black and white wolf was too concentrated on not falling over to look back over his shoulder towards Kevin's house. The fox had invited half the town to his Halloween bash and it seemed that half the town's adult population arrived. The town of Stowe, a small town nestled in the bosom of the Appalachians only had a population of just over five-hundred so it didn't take much to get a large percentage in one location.

There had been finger foods, chips, dip, soda, music, a rerun of a football game and of course, alcohol and lots of it. Whatever little beer Kevin had set out was gone in minutes, but it was quickly replaced by the nearly infinite supply of the town populace who seemed to pull and impressive amount of kegs out of nowhere to supply the thirsty crowd. Crisp, of course, had partaken in the liquor as well and was suffering from the effects as he nearly tripped over the lip of the curb of the street as he went to cross it.

It was dark out, and cold, forcing the wolf to pull his red and white hoodie close to his chest. He didn't dress up like many of the others. He found dressing up for really any occasion silly, even one as set into American culture as Halloween. Nope. He stuck with his usual style of red and white coat, white jean shorts and of course, his trademark red and white sneakers that had a hint of green on the tongue of the shoe which few people understood.

Soniqians often didn't wear footwear of any kind, having natural padding on their feet and often found it strange for anyone other than a human to wear shoes. Crisp on the other hand, found shoes, especially his own specially made ones that were fitted for paws and not feet, to be extremely comfortable. He wore them with pride even if it did give him a few strange glances a day.

He would need those shoes though, it was a long walk back to his own apartment that was located on the other side of town which was spread out. It was easily an hour long walk through the rapidly cooling night. Even the trick or treaters were starting to reduce in number as the children got their share of candy and sweets and were returning home to tally up their plunder.

Crisp grumbled at the idea of walking back home and looked back at Kevin's home. He wondered if he would be able to crash there for the night, but thought against it. The party had trashed the place, there were discarded beer bottles and food particles on every surface. If he went back, he would be put to work cleaning and that would take hours. Well past sunrise and Crisp needed a bed to fall into to sleep away the alcohol.

A small group of mice all shuffled past Crisp who stood on the corner of the street, supporting himself with the stop sign. They were dressed up as various superheroes and were being herded by some beat down looking father who just decided to go out in flannel. Crisp moved out of the way and ended up crossing the street and onto the sidewalk that bordered the woods. Then it hit him, he could cut through the woods.

Stowe was an oddly shaped down, looking like a crescent moon from above since a large swath of woodlands cut into the heart of the town. The woodlands were privately owned by some old family that had lived in the area over one hundred years ago and had never sold. The town grew, but it never got permission to build onto the private property and so the town grew around it with an old, abandoned house in the center.

Crisp gave the dark woods a long hard look. He was standing under a lamp post that gave off a dim yellow light. It was decorated by fake spiderwebs that were draped across its top and gave the light a fuzzy effect as the webs crossed in front of the bulb. Even this haunting light was more welcoming than the blackness of the woods that silently stared back at Crisp. Normally he would have just taken the long walk, but his booze riddled mind wasn't going as efficiently as it normally would and we really wanted to get home for the night.

He took his first step into the woods, his sneakers crunching the dead, dry leaves that had fallen down from the mix of sugar maples and white oak trees that had shed their once green leaves. Their empty branches hung overhead like fingers.

Crisp stopped and thought about how much he wanted to go waltzing through the woods just for a short cut again. It wasn't that he was afraid of the dark, it was the stories behind the property that he grew up with that scared him.

The people of Stowe had been wary of the property for a long time and many stories had been passed around from over the years. The stories all surrounded the old family that used to own the property and live in the old house in the center of it. The stories changed over time, old ones re-emerged and faded away, but there was always some story. The story that was being told when Crisp was growing up was that the family, whose name escaped Crisp's memory, had bought the property in the hope of setting up a mine. Early surveys had uncovered trace coal deposits and the town was built up and people brought in. Everything was going according to plan and it was only a matter of time before a mine was actually set up. Then, suddenly the family moved out of their house that they had built and never come back. Crisp heard that there was a murder at the house that killed many of the children there and the family had moved away to escape the memories, but in order to honor their dead children, they never sold the property.

That was the story that Crisp grew up with, from there, it got strange. People also claimed that the spirits of the children live in the woods and in the house, haunting it. The sounds of their cries and laughter could be heard at night, giggling as their spirits harassed anyone who entered the property. A few people across town claimed to have been chased away by flying debris, rocks and twigs that were thrown at them by what appeared to be no one. Others had also claimed at seeing faint glows in the distant that looked like children, watching them and following them.

Crisp told himself that it was all nonsense, that it was all just ghost stories to scare children from trying to do what he was doing. There were wild animals and some treacherous terrain like a small gully that had been carved out by a quick running creek. Just stories to keep children from hurting themselves and yet Crisp found himself jumping at a squirrel that came out from a small pile of leaves. It happily chattered at him, holding onto an acorn that it had scrounged for its winter supplies before running up a tree and out of sight. Crisp waited until he couldn't hear it anymore, jumping across the tops of the trees and chattering all along the way as it made its own way back home. He then continued farther into the woods. He knew that if he just walked straight, he would cut across the property and get to the other side, back home, in under half an hour. He held onto that thought with each step.

It was dark in the woods. There was a new moon, giving him absolutely no light once the light of the street were gone. Crisp dug into a small pack he had on his back. He had used it to carry some snacks and a few beers from home that he personally enjoyed and didn't want to share. Now it had a few glow sticks from the party. They had been handed out and used to replace the lights. People would crack them, wait for them to light up and threw hundreds all around the house, giving it a very spooky glow.

The light from the glowstick wasn't great, but it allowed Crisp to walk without tripping. It gave off a green glow that extended a few feet in each direction as he held it above his head to get the best effect. It didn't help lessen his fears, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that there was nothing to be afraid of. Already in the woods, Crisp held onto himself tightly and went further, knowing that it wasn't going to be for much longer.

It was about another ten minutes when Crisp reached the house. It was more of a mansion than a house and it was old and looked like every haunted mansion that had ever been shown on television. It was three stories tall, made of old, gray wood and had more windows than any house really needed. It stood on top of a hill and was surrounded by a large cast iron fence. Crisp needed to cross the grounds to get to the other side in any short amount of time.

The main gate to the property was wide open, the gate's hinges having rusted away due to exposure years ago. The twin iron gates that were topped off with spikes that looked like they would easily impale the wolf laid on their sides in the overgrown grass. The entire place needed a field day, the weeds were knee high and the hedges that once gave the place a nice homely feeling looked as if they had grown afros. Vines crept up the side of the house, reaching to the bottom of the second story windows that were pitch black on the inside, no shades drawn anywhere.

Crisp avoided looking at the windows, he didn't want to see a face staring back at him in any of them. Instead, he was looking up. He couldn't see the stars and on a perfectly dark night as this, the sky should have been spectacular with millions of points of lights and even the Milky Way, instead there was nothing which meant clouds and a sudden flash of light and a boom meant storm clouds.

He wasn't even half way across the lawn, pulling through the undergrowth and heading towards the rear gate before the first rain drops landed on his ear. It started as a trickle, but it was only moments before what seemed like an entire ocean fell out of the sky.

Crisp pulled up his hood and quickly ran for the nearest shelter, the house. He ran up the step onto the deck where it was dry and looked out into the rain.

"There's no way I'm going to get home now." He sighed and stuck out his paw into the rain. It became instantly wet and hundreds of fat rain drops pelted it. He pulled it back in and gave it a good whip to get the excess water off. "Fuck." Crisp stuck his hands in his pockets and walked around the patio since there was nothing to do but wait for the storm to pass over.

If the place looked old from a distance, then it was apparent up close. The wood groaned under Crisp's sneakers as he walked up to a flower pot that had once held what must have been a beautiful bouquet, not there was just old dirt. Crisp moved on to the door. It was a large double door made of what Crisp could only guess to be some kind of oak. It wasn't just some door that someone could by from Home Depot, it was hand carved from a single massive slab of wood. It had small intricacies that reflected an old European style and two brass knockers shaped like lions.

On either side of the door was a large window. The curtains, like every other window that Crisp had seen were open, letting him look inside if he chose to. He didn't. Instead he sat down on the wooden floor, careful of splinters, and set his back against the door. He would have waited right there for the storm to blow over right there if the door hadn't given way behind him.

Crisp let out a yelp as he fell backwards into the house as the two doors easily swung wide open, squealing like a dying pig the entire way.

Crisp became very aware of how quiet it was in the house as he laid on his back. He could hear the rain, but just a few feet inside, it was nothing more than background noise, a slight pitter patter. It was as if the darkness inside consumed the noise.

"Okay." Crisp said, almost whispering to himself. "No such thing as ghosts." His head was feeling tight, his alcoholic fuzz starting to fade from the adrenaline and being replaced by a hangover. "No such thing as ghosts. No such thing." He pushed himself up so that he was sitting up with his knees up to his chest, him facing the inside of the house. He was in the foyer. Not as elaborate or large as some that he had seen online or in movies, but still, the fact that these people could afford the space and money for a foyer was impressive. He couldn't see much detail with no lights so the wolf slowly got up. "No such thing." It was starting to work, he was getting more confident the longer nothing happened to me.

The wolf repeated it a few more times until he was convinced that his old childhood fears were unwarranted. Nothing happened to him all the way here, no thrown objects, no glowing ghosts, nothing. There was no such thing as ghosts. It was such a silly concept to begin with and now Crisp wondered how he had managed to let stupid ghost stories scare him especially now.

"Well." Crisp stood up, his shoes, still wet, squeaking on the surprisingly smooth wood floor. It should have been splintering from age, but it was smooth and had a nice gleam to it whenever a flash of lightning lit up the space. Crisp didn't think about it much, he dug out a new glow stick from his pack, the old one had died out and was discarded somewhere just outside.

With a crack, the glowstick snapped, the fluids inside mixing and taking on a red glow instead of a green one like the last one. He had grabbed a handful of them and they came in all colors. He only had three more, another green one and two blue ones. They each lasted about an hour apiece which wasn't enough. It was another six hours until sunrise, but Crisp was planning on the rain stopping. Storms like the one outside never lasted that long, they came rolling over the mountains and went on their merry way.

Until then, he had to wait. Or, explore. No longer afraid, or at least that worried about ghosts, Crisp decided that he could take some time to explore this house that everyone else avoided. It was large and old and bound to have something interesting. He didn't plan on looting anything, just see what he could find.

Deciding that it was best to work from the ground up, Crisp walked past the wooden stairs that had a thin strip of red velvet carpet running up it. Past the foyer was a long hallway that ran all the way to the other end of the building. He went to the first door on his right.

The door was oak, not nearly as elaborate at the front door with a simple knob made of copper. It was tarnished, but still in good shape. The door swung open, needing a little shove to get past the bit of rust on the hinges. It revealed a den like room with a dusty old couch made of leather sitting in the corner. There was a bookshelf against the wall and a few small tables. Other than that the light from the glowstick didn't reveal much so Crisp moved on.

The hallway itself had a lot as Crisp moved from door to door. There were paintings of a family on the walls. Some held the entire family. The father, a German Shepherd looked hard, he had a stern glare that seemed to follow Crisp wherever he went. The mother, a Black Lab, was more soft. She held a small, quaint smile on her face, but remained reserved in each painting of her. They had four children, three males, a black Shepherd and two labs along with a smaller, but older looking German Shepherd female. In the family painting, the father and mother were in the back with the children sitting in front of them, they looked well behaved. Other paintings showed the boys goofing off with each other, but never with the sister. The sister was always alone, minus the family painting. She looked to be a little older than Crisp and took on her father more with a hard glare except in one painting.

Crisp walked up to the painting that hung between two empty vases. She was in a ballerina costume, tutu and all. She was up on the toes of one of her feet, the other arched up and resting on the back of her knee. She held up her arms in a graceful arch and her head was thrown back in a perfect image of balance and control. She seemed to enjoy herself and Crisp was mesmerized by it. He looked at it until a noise from deep in the house snapped him out of his daze.

The noise sounded as if someone had moved something. Crisp passed it off as mice. In a house this old, there was bound to be some vermin around hiding from the weather that shook the house. It seemed to be growing in ferocity when Crisp looked out a nearby window.

Rain pelted at the glass, as if trying to get in. He watched it for a bit as the storm continued to rage on, lightning occasionally lighting up the woods.

"Looks like it's going to be a while." Crisps sighed and walked away to continue his explorations of the house.

The hall didn't lead anywhere until the end. All of the doors ended up just leading to various storage rooms and other lounge rooms that must have been for when the family had guests over. There was also the kitchen. The last door wasn't actually a door. It was an open arch that led straight to the dining room.

The chandelier wasn't hanging up above the grand table that stretched down to either side of the room. The crystal and metal flower that would have brought life to the room where people would have congregated to eat and socialize had fallen down and was sitting on top of the table. Crystal and bits of metal littered the floor. Unlike the rest of the house, this was the only place where there was real damage.

There was also other debris. It looked like a bed and was mostly in one piece. It was off to the side where it had either been pushed or simply fallen off the table after landing on the chandelier and the table.

Crisp walked up to the table slowly. The table cloth was torn and deteriorating, only small strands and scraps remained where the bed hadn't fallen and broken.

The wolf held up his glowstick to get a look at the chain above. There was no chain, instead there was a hole in the ceiling where it seemed that the massive object had pulled down the ceiling and the bed along with it. Crisp immediately thought that it must have been from age. The wood, although well preserved in the house, was still old and not as strong as it had been when the house was originally occupied. It could have fallen down years ago.

It had cracked the table where it had landed and there was something on the table under the chandelier where the wood seemed darker. The glow sticks colored light didn't do well to give Crisp a good look at what it was. He stretched out a hand and scratched it with his nail. The darker stain on the wood flaked and came off easily, burying itself under Crisp's fingernail. He brought it up and sniffed it. It smelled heavily of iron.

"Blood. Eww." Crisp quickly pulled his finger away from his face and wiped the dried blood from his hand onto his shorts. He regretted it when it left a maroon smear. "Dammit." He cursed. "I hope detergent will get that out." He tried to wipe the stain off, but it only smeared the blood around so he stopped messing with it before it got worse.

Crisp went back and looked at the stain. It was large and upon closer inspection showed that the blood had leaked off the table and dripped onto the carpeted floor where there was an even large stain.

"Geeze." Crisp quickly backed off of the stain that he had been standing on. It looked like there had been a massive amount of blood, more than what a single person could have in their body. "Someone had a bad day." He quickly fled the room and went into the kitchen, leaving behind whatever accident had occurred there behind.

The kitchen was worse, but in a different way. It reeked horrible. At some point, the kitchen, a large one, had been fully stocked and then abandoned. The food had perished a long time ago, turning into dirt, but all of the organic matter sitting in one room left it smelling like rotten eggs.

Crisp didn't stick around too long to give it a better look. He went back out the way he went, skirting around the dried blood, down the hall and back to the foyer.

He thought about going back outside and waiting, a little sick from the dried blood. It looked as if someone had died there. It was probably the reason why the family had left the house and everything behind on such short notice. Crisp knew that he wouldn't want to live in the house after someone had died right there in the dining room. The thought of sleeping so close to where someone died, it was enough to send some shivers down his spine.

Crisp decided that it was time to give the second story a visit. He discarded his dying glow stick on the floor, telling himself that he would come back later and retrieve it. He then pulled out his next glow stick, one of the blue ones and and quickly bent it and replaced the invading darkness with light again.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the new color of light, but once it did, Crisp went up the stairs.

The second story was much like the first. There was a main hallway that visited most of the room, though this one skirted around the inside edge of the house and looped all the way around. Crisp could go either left or right down the hall or continue straight which led up to the third floor. Crisps randomly went left, looking at the new set of paintings.

There were paintings of the family again, but there was a lot more scenery paintings as well. The family seemed to like the woods since they had a large amount of paintings of the surrounding forest.

"Who would want to look at this when they can just look outside?" Crisp said as he passed another landscape painting. He didn't think he would ever understand rich people who seemed to buy the most useless things. He supposed that it was something that required him to have copious amounts of money to understand. It all came down to "if I can buy it, why not" kind of mentality. It was the kind of mentality that Crisp wished he could afford to have.

Crisp was not poor, per say. He had a job working a local clothes store, restocking, dealing with customers and just watching over the store which was owned by a friend's mom. It wasn't the most rewarding job in the world, but it got the bills paid. Plus, it was temporary. College was a huge financial drain that he couldn't keep up with so Crisp was just back home for a semester or two to save up and pay off the loans. Once everything was paid off and he had some cash in his pocket, he planned on going back and finishing up his degree. How he would have loved to have the kind of money that the people who used to live here did.

Crisp tapped on the painting with the tip of his claw, letting it swing back and forth on its nail as he walked past it and towards the first room. The painting, having hung there for so long, wasn't on as sturdy as a nail as Crisp believed.

The nail silently slid off the wall and the painting fell to the ground. The wolf jerked back when the frame broke into three pieces and the canvas that it had encased fell out and onto the ground.

"Shit!" Crisp covered his mouth in shock. "Fuck." He rushed over and stood over the broken painting. The canvas, old and frail, had ripped and there was nothing he could do to fix it. "Fuck fuck fuck." Crisp repeated as he looked over the mess.

He almost bolted and ran right out, leaving behind his case of vandalism. This was private property that he had just destroyed. He was already trespassing and he could be charged if anyone came and learned what he had done. He worried about having a criminal record. The worst thing he had on his record was a speeding ticket his sixteenth birthday. His parents weren't to thrilled at him returning home from what was supposed to go to the grocery store and pick up milk. They had sent him away so they could set up his surprise party. Friends and family were all there when Crisp walked through the door holding a small pink slip. Both sides were surprised when the lights came on.

He was grounded for a month and had to work to pay off the one-hundred and fifty dollar fine. What a great birthday present.

"They're going to skin me alive this time." Crisp bit his lower lip and thought about if there was a way he could fix it. Maybe there was a hammer and some nails somewhere. It was an old house, but not out of the question.

Crisp decided on that. He could continue to search the house, instead of sightseeing, he would look for supplies. He could patch the frame back together since it had simply fallen apart and not shattered. He couldn't do anything about the canvas that had a gash in it, but the place was old, damage was to be expected over time. Maybe an animal got at it at some point. No one would know.

The fragments were laid against the wall so they wouldn't be in the middle of the hall while Crisp went back and looked into the first room he came across.

It was a bedroom with a single queen sized bed in the center. There was a wooden dresser and a large man sized mirror. It looked like it would have been for a guest since there wasn't much in the way of personalization in anything.

A quick look through dusty drawers came up with nothing but old clothes that Crisp was afraid to touch. He didn't want to risk them disintegrating at a touch and have something else on his conscious. He moved on.

This went on for another half an hour as Crisp thoroughly searched each room. The second floor had nothing but bedrooms for both guests and the family. Crisp came across the master bedroom. It was easy to tell since it was extravagantly furnished with a king sized bed that was actually situated on a raised floor like some sort of throne. There was a walk in closet that, when opened, revealed a rather large selection of both old fashioned suits for the sir and big puffy dresses for the ma'am. Crisp admired them a little before going on to the many dressers which were filled with more practical clothes, still expensive though since there was a lot of furs and silk.

Crisp took note of all of the clothes that had been left behind. Why would they just leave everything behind like this? It didn't make sense and made Crisp wonder what had caused them to leave everything behind. There must have been thousands of dollars worth of clothes here. It was a miracle that no one had robbed the place of everything it had decades ago.

Thoughts went back to the ghost stories. It was ridiculous to think that ghost stories kept would be thieves away, they were just stories and in the end, it didn't stop him, just some random guy from getting in. If he really wanted to, he could just grab some things and go. He knew that there were plenty of people who would buy this stuff without question. He heard clothes enthusiasts all the time at work. They always talked about how modern fashion never lived up to older styles.

Crisp looked down at his own clothes. Jacket, shorts, sneakers, all red and white. They definitely didn't agree with his style and thought he didn't hear them when they spoke behind his back. His hearing was better than they thought, but he didn't care. He always caught some flak for the clothes he wore, but it never bothered him, it was who he was.

Then there was jewelry. There was a small box on one of the dressers. It was ornate with gold leaves on the side and what appeared to be a ruby on the lock. Crisp opened it up and it was completely full. Rings, necklaces, earrings, the whole nine yards of finery. They twinkled under the glow stick and it took a moment for Crisp to walk away.

He wasn't going to take anything. He wasn't a thief.

There was nothing in the room to use to fix the painting so Crisp went on.

After the parent's master bedroom, Crisp came across the rooms of the children. First was the two older males. The room was smaller with two twin sized beds that weren't made. The sheets were rolled back just like they had been for a century and like the other rooms, everything was left behind. It looked as if the brothers had been quite mischievous. There was an old fashioned slingshot made of a sturdy wood. It seemed to be a prized possession to one of the brothers since the handle was carved and the wood was stained which had protected it from rot. The rubber band looked dry and ready to fall apart so he refrained from touching it. There was also a set of tools, exactly what Crisp had been looking for. They were inside a lock box, luckily the lock wasn't there. Inside was a menagerie of tools such as pliers, screwdriver and a hammer with some rusty nails, exactly what he needed.

Crisp grabbed the hammer and nails and quickly left before investigating the room more. He wanted to fix the frame quickly and then get out. He could hear the storm letting up outside and the lighting strikes were becoming less frequent, though it was still going hard enough that Crisp would have to wait a little longer.

Going back the way he came Crisp came to where he had left the painting and he was ready to get to work, if it was still there. The painting was gone. There was nothing there, but the shadow of where it had been on the wall.

"What?" Crisp scratched his head and began looking around. Had he moved it and not remembered.

A quick scurry down to the first floor confirmed that it had not somehow magically gone down the nearby stairs and a look around the immediate area revealed nothing.

"You've got to be kidding me." Crisp grabbed his head fur and tugged on it. He tried to think of what could have happened. The thought of ghosts come to mind, but that was discarded. Ghosts weren't real. The only real explanation was that someone at the party had followed him and were trying to prank him. It had to be that. It was a large house and with him wandering all over it, it would be easy to track him around the building.

Crisp could play that game, but first, he needed to find the painting, wherever this would be stalker hid it. The best thing to do for the moment was back track so Crisp revisited the rooms he had gone to.

When looking through the drawers, Crisp had left all of them open in his rush to find a hammer. They were all closed now and everything he had moved was back in their original positions. This guy was good, he was managing to do this without making any noise.

It had to be Franklin, the sly weasel, an actual weasel, had a knack for moving around silently and was a bit of a prankster. He loved to sneak up on people whenever he got the opportunity. He had been at the party earlier and was hammered last he saw him, bumbling about and trying to dance. Crisp supposed that he could have sobered up since that was only an hour into the party which had lasted several hours. By then, he could have seen him walk into the woods and decided to scare him at some point. That sneaky bastard, it was going to be hard to find him.

Crisp snuck down the hall, hunched over. He put away his glowstick which would let Franklin see him coming and navigated by his night vision and the occasional lightning strike that illuminated the entire inside of the house. He slowly crept to each room, giving them a quick look before moving on. He eventually reached rooms that he hadn't been to before.

Next in line was the sister's room. The door squeaked when it opened and Crisp cursed as he stepped into the room. There was no hiding that, so Crisp pulled out the glow stick and took a look around.

It was a lot like the other rooms in the placement of the bed and dresser, but it was definitely a room of a teenaged girl, there was no mistaking it even if it was one from the nineteen hundreds. There were stuffed animals on the dresser and the bedding had frilly edges and a hint of pink that had faded over time. The dresser was filled with all kinds of clothes and wear from the era. Corsets, dresses, stockings and more shoes than Crisp could count. He went away from the dresser to the large closet that seemed to be the center of the room.

Being careful, like always, he opened it up revealing a slim ballerina dress. It was the only thing in there along with the matching shoes that were at the bottom. It was hung up with great care with clips to support different parts of the dress so that it wouldn't stretch at any one point. It was in immaculate condition as if someone had taken care of it. The fabric wasn't faded at all and it looked brand new.

Crisp reached out and touched the fabric. This was the only piece of clothing that he was sure wouldn't just fall apart. It was smooth, meant to reduce air friction and hug the body tightly to not impede performance. It was still rather clunky, being from a time where showing ankles was obscene. The daughter must have performed mainly for family and friends to avoid being called out as a tramp by the public. The care that had been put into this showed just how much the daughter seemed to care about this.

In respect, Crisp closed the closet. He looked over to the bed. There were pictures there, old and faded pictures of the three brothers. Three individual pictures of the brothers in very nice three piece suits with ties were on the bed. They smiled in the pictures and there were stains on the edge, small water stains that blotted each picture in random spots. Crisp left them where they were and went to the last room.

Crisp nearly walked off the ledge upon entering the room. He had nearly forgotten that this was the room with the hole in it, being directly over the dining room. The whole was large and gaping with the floorboards bent downwards. A quick peek revealed the dining room below and the mess that was there. Crisp made sure to give the hole a wide berth as he looked around the room for the missing painting.

This was the final child's room, the youngest who looked to be no older than twelve in the latest paintings and pictures. His room showed it. There was all kinds of toys from a wooden pony that seemed almost stereotypical for this kind of setting to a iron cast train set that sat off in the corner. It was sad to see that even these had been left behind in whatever mad rush the family had done to get out. Crisp still didn't understand what had happened here to make them leave in such a hurry.

There was a giggle. It was faint, but it was definitely a giggle, very child like and it came from behind. Crisp nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard it. He twisted around and tripped over one of the toys. He landed on his butt and looked up, expecting to see Franklin there with a wide grin on his face. There wasn't anyone. The bastard was playing tricks on him now.

There was another set of giggles, this time coming from deeper from the house. Franklin was moving fast and seemed to be daring Crisp to hunt him down and he was all too willing to take the bait. If he caught Franklin, the weasel would have to tell him where he hid the painting.

Stowing the glowstick away again, Crisp decided that the best way to get Franklin would be to find a place and hide. He would wait for Franklin to walk by and jump him, the weasel was always full of energy wouldn't sit still. It would only be a matter of time before the two crossed paths, it was only a matter of waiting him out.

Crisp, as silently and quickly as he could, went in search of a hiding place. It needed to be somewhere that could hide him, it was dark, so that wouldn't be hard, it also needed to be somewhere that he could see a large area or at least hear if anyone was coming since he could barely see himself. The foyer was the best place since the main hallways for both the second floor and the first floor started there and there was also the stairs that led up to the still unexplored third floor.

Crisp made his way back to the foyer. He blindly looked around for a hiding place and found one behind a small table with a vase on it. He could see, when there was lightning, the first floor below him and the hall to either side of him. He was a bit exposed where he was, but he was confident that he would be able to see Franklin before he saw him. There he waited.

There was no more giggling or really any noise as Crisp sat there, crouched behind the table, occasionally peeking out whenever there was lighting. Nothing changed and the wolf quickly grew impatient as the minutes rolled by. It quickly began to feel like he was wasting his time. Did he really need to fix the painting? Now that he thought about it, no one was going to come by and find it. No one had been around before him in a very long time and it would show Franklin if he just slipped out without him noticing. That would be funny, have the weasel run around the house, thinking that he was the better of the two without realizing that he was actually alone. That sounded better.

Crisp slowly got up. His legs were cramping at the joints from being bent and under weight for so long. He stretched them out with a groan and took a step forward. There was an unexpected tug at his foot as he took the step and Crisp went down.

"What now?" Crisp coughed. He had hit the ground hard, knocking the breath out of him as he winced at the pain in his chest. This was quickly turning into one of his least favorite nights. He looked down at his feet. Of course he couldn't see so he grabbed another glow stick, he only had the last green one after this blue one. He quickly got it going and discovered his shoelaces tied together in a perfect knot.

"When did that happen?" Crisp tugged at the laces, the knot came apart easily. There was no way he did that and there was absolutely no way that Franklin could have done that. He was a sly one, but not so sneaky to tie someone's laces together when the shoes are still on their feet. Something else was going on and Crisp was starting to get worried.

"HeeHee." The giggle again, this time very close by, coming from up the stairs to the third floor. The giggling grew distant.

"I don't know how you did it." Crisp quickly retied his shoes and got up, baring his canines. "But this isn't funny." He yelled up the stairs. He didn't care about stealth anymore. He was going to find whoever this person was, Franklin or not and get them to stop. He was sick and tired of their childish antics.

Crisp ran up the stairs, nearly tripping on the third step. He caught himself and became more enraged as he reached the top floor. It was a dusty old attic with the exposed supports overhead and it smelled distinctly of guano. The glowstick revealed that the room was filled with boxes and crates that were stacked up against the wall and around the medium sized room. There were plenty of places to hide.

"This isn't funny anymore." Crisp shouted out and raised up the glowstick. The lighting was abysmal, he could barely see anything. How he would have loved to have had a flashlight. He made a mental note to never enter another abandoned mansion without one ever again.

He looked behind boxes, trying to avoid the squeaky floorboards as he wove between crates, looking for the elusive prankster. He even went as far as opening some of them. They were filled with what seemed like supplies to start up that mine that almost became reality. There were helmets, cheaply made to save money since worker safety wasn't so much of a concern back then. Other crates had other supplies such as uniforms, more cheaply made pieces of fabric patched together and there were some tools as well such a crate full of pickaxes. There was enough in the attic to get started up until a regular supply chain could be set up. This family had been really close to opening up, and yet they didn't. More food for thought, but for later.

"Come out." Crisp demanded as he bolted around a crate. There was no one there, but that just meant that there were only a few places left to hide. He would find the culprit soon.

Crisp had cleared about three quarters of the room, sweeping from wall to wall and keeping an eye on the only exit. He didn't want the bugger to slip away when he wasn't looking. There was only the back wall left. "There's nowhere to hide." He growled and was coming up to the last set of boxes when something hard hit him in the back of the head.

His head jerked forward from the impact and he cried out. It didn't actually hurt, the object wasn't thrown hard enough to do anything but surprise him and make him more angry. "Fuck you!" He spun on his heels and picked up the object that had been thrown at him, one of the dinky helmets that had already dented from the impact. He leaned back on one foot and with a huff, he threw it as hard as he could back in the direction as he could.

The helmet disappeared into the darkness and Crisp listened for it to hit the back wall, but there was never a sound. He waited longer than what was necessary, but it was as if the darkness ate the helmet whole. Instead, it chucked it right back at him.

Crisp ducked and half dove to his right as the helmet came spiraling back at him at a much higher speed than before. It wasn't alone either. A second helmet flew past him, flicking his ear as Crisp went for cover behind box that held boots. He pried open the box, not caring about vandalism and more about hurting this person and began chucking boots back in the direction of the flying helmets.

Boots and helmets, helmets and boots, it all went flying as Crisp mindlessly began to throw whatever he could. Once the boots ran out, he threw the helmets back and the person on the other end was all too willing to return the favor. This went on for some time.

Crisp had to leave the safety of the box to get more things to throw. He crouched down and reached out to grab a helmet when a boot landed right on top of his hand. A shock of pain went up his arm as his fingers were smashed by the leather and rubber boot.

"Arrrr!" He growled and grabbed the boot instead. He reared back to throw when a lightning strike lingered a bit longer than usual. Crisp froze as he stared across the room at the culprit. There was no one there, but...

One of the helmets, full of dents and now bent into the shape of a pasta shell came off the ground, it hovered there two meters off the ground before it was launched just shy of Crisp. The helmet hit the ground and rolled to Crisp's feet. He didn't look at it, he just watched as another helmet was picked up and the light faded away.

"No." Crisp said in disbelief his hand no longer hurt. "No. No." Ghosts don't exists. It must have been some kind of trick. The flash from the lightning, it was to brief, his eyes were playing tricks on him. Another lightning flash showed the same thing. A boot went up into the air and was thrown. Crisp turned his head and the boot missed him, flying into the wall behind him. It didn't take any more encouragement to get Crisp to get out of there.

Dodging and not really dodging some more flying debris, Crisp went down the stairs as fast as he could, gliding over the steps as his feet moved as fast as he could move them beneath him. He reached the second floor where he took a moment to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest as he leaned against the wall. He looked over the railing to the first floor where the front doors were. Freedom.

He could hear the giggling as he went down another flight of steps. It was very childish and sounded as if there were more than one now. He began to panic. Upon reaching the door, Crisp grabbed the doorknob and turned it. He heard the parts all click into the rights places, but the door didn't budge. He pulled again, nothing, not even a budge.

"You can't leave yet." The child's voice called out from the second floor. "We're not done yet."

"Yes we are!" He jerked as hard as he could on the door, it remained steadfast. He went to the window, ready to break it with a nearby chair that would have been used to sit down on when putting on shoes. He lifted it up and before he could use it smash through the window, it was lifted out of his hand.

"Naughty." Another voice, older this time said. It sounded as if it was right next to him and Crisp's ear flickered and he shivered. He could just feel the breath on his neck. Maybe it was there. Maybe it wasn't.

"Naughty like this?" A third voice, similar to the second older voice said on his other side and with a small twist that Crisp felt across his midsection, his belt came undone.

"Or like this?" The young child's voice then said. They were all around him.

Crisp's button came undone and his pants fell to his knees, revealing his red with white highlights underwear. A blush came to his cheeks as he quickly yanked them back up, he swore he could feel someone trying to hold them down. He ran off, his belt flapping against his crotch a bit painfully. He went off in a random direction.

Things flew at him as he ran down the hall. Forget the painting that he broke, the others ones came flying off the walls at him with bouts of giggles. He did his best to run around them, but they still pelted him hard the entire way.

He came to a stop in the kitchen. It still smelled of rotted organic matter.

A quick look around revealed something that he had missed before. There was a trap door in the far corner. Old houses used to do this since it was colder underground and perishables could be stored there. It was probably pitch black down there since outside was starting to get a bit lighter. It was still a few hours till sunrise and for some reason, Crisp thought that the pitch blackness would hide him from the ghosts.

The trapdoor was closed shut and locked by a simple latch that Crisp nearly tore off. The wooden doors were flung aside, creating a racket and blackness seemed to exhume from the pit. Crisp would normally avoid going into black pits, but at the moment it seemed better than staying up top. He rushed down and pulled out his last glow stick that gave off an irradiated green hue.

The basement was a lot different than the rest of the house. Crisp came across a concrete wall almost immediately, he turned left and ran down a hall. He was completely surrounded by concrete walls as he ran and turned every time he came across another wall.

Eventually, Crisp stopped. He was panting, his belt still undone. He fixed that. He was alone in the dark and Crisp took the time to see where exactly he was. He looked both way, he was what appeared to be in a concrete tunnel which made no sense. What was this doing in the basement of this house? At least he couldn't hear the ghosts anymore that had been cackling the entire time he had been running, but now they were gone. He had a moment of peace and he took it.

Plopping to the ground, Crisp laid his head back against the concrete wall. It was cool against his bum and back, helping him cool off a bit after that run. He was out of shape at the moment, he had exercised in college, but now that he was back home, he had gone soft. He still had a very flattering and handsome body that had very little body fat, he just needed to get back to the gym to get some muscle on his bone. Escape and survive first.

Short break over, Crisp got back up to keep moving, though he couldn't remember which way he came from. Each way looked the same, a long dark tunnel that he couldn't see the end of so Crisp picked one way at random.

He walked slowly, not knowing if the ghosts would be attracted by sound or something like that. He wasn't going to take any chances.

A few minutes went by and Crisp came across an intersection. He could go either right or left. He debated which way to go and went left. He had no idea where he was going so it really didn't matter. This happened several more times until he came across a dead end.

He looked at the featureless concrete wall before him. He was lost in a maze. "Why is there a maze here?" Crisp scratched his head and huffed. "Nothing to do but go back."

He ran into four more dead ends before he adopted the technique of hugging the right wall. He figured that he would find a way out eventually, what he did find was a soft glow in the distance.

He barely noticed it at first, it was that faint. It was a soft blue hue that almost seemed to be a mist. It was at the end of the hall Crisp was in and around a corner. There was no other way to go but forward. He crept, almost crawled forward, hiding his glowstick under his arm. The closer he got, the brighter the glow was until Crisp was right around the corner from the source. He took a peek.

There was a cub standing in the middle of a square room, his back was to Crisp. The child was in a white night gown that was stained red. He was crying.

It was the ghost. It couldn't be anything other than that, but seeing it, a small lab of sorts crying seemed to melt away any fear he had. Crisp decided to step into the room.

"Y-you alright?" He said and kneaded his fingers together.

The child stopped crying instantly, but didn't turn around. He looked straight forward and away from Crisp who could see that there were also tears in the night gown. He could see bits of ripped flesh underneath as well which would explain the blood.

"It's all their fault." The child said with a sob. "All their fault." He hugged himself, he was missing a finger on his right hand, a small bone stuck out of his knuckle. It made Crisp queasy looking at it.

"Whose fault?" Crisp was almost too afraid to ask.

The child said nothing and Crisp took another step forward and extended a paw. His fingers were right above the child's shoulder when he screeched.

Crisp jumped back and back peddled until he was up against the wall.

"Their fault!" The lab hollered and ran forward and into the wall where he faded right through it, taking all of the light with him.

Crisp clutched at his chest. He wasn't sure how much more he could take before he would just eventually keel over and die. It was a night to remember and it wasn't even over yet.

Another glow came from the room, this time it was an orange hue. "You scared him." It was the eldest voice. "You shouldn't do that." A figure, a black German Shepherd stepped out of the same spot where the smaller one had gone. He was in a more casual outfit, blouse tucked into some long pants. He was also disfigured with half of his skull imploded and his upper chest a ragged mess. He could see his unbeating heart hanging by strands in his chest cavity, it wobble every time the ghost took a step towards him. "You shouldn't do that." It repeated and lunged at Crisp.

"FuUuUCK!" Crisp ran away. He pulled out his glowstick and bolted down the same corridor that he had just come from. No way was he going to confront that monster. He took random lefts and rights.

"Where do you think you're going?" The third ghost, older than the child, but younger than last one Crisp encountered came out right in Crisp's path. He was doing much better than the others with a gnarly leg and no right arm what-so-ever. He gave off a sickly yellow hue.

Crisp skidded to a halt and turned around and ran off. He took random turns and on occasion whenever he felt that he was getting close to the exit, one of the ghosts would step out and block his path. Each time, Crisp would turn around and run the other way, making sure to take a turn that he hadn't done before. If he kept running, he would get out eventually.

There was no such luck. Crisp ran into a dead end first and with that he gave up. He gave the wall one hard punch which left a bloody splotch and fell to his knees. Crisp sunk his head between his knees and curled up into a fetal position as the last light from his last glow stick faded away, leaving no light.

"I'm going to die." Crisp sulked. "Die in some god damn haunted house." He pulled his legs closer to his chest.

"Look at him!" A voice called out, laughing.

"You made him cry." The younger voice called out.

"We made him cry." The third voice responded.

"Nuh uh."

"Yeah, huh."

Crisp looked up slowly, wiping away some of the tears on his muzzle. The three ghosts were standing there with the shortest to the left and the tallest to the right. They weren't disfigured anymore, appearing normal, but in the same clothes as before.

"We took it too far." The eldest and the tallest announced.

"I say we didn't take it far enough." The second one replied and gave a witty grin. "After this, it will be another decade before anyone comes by again."

"It's going to be so boring." The youngest whined.

Crisp sniffed. They were arguing like normal children and not killing him. "Who are you?" He asked, still keeping his back firmly pressed against the wall.

The three paused and looked at Crisp. "We're the Olsons." They said in unison.

"I'm Nicholas." The youngest waved to Crisp. Crisp didn't wave back.

"George." The second said unamused.

"Albert." The oldest finished off.

Crisp looked at them blankly and they looked back and then Crisp knew why. "Oh... I'm Crisp." He introduced himself, still unsure of what was going to happen to him. They could very easily be faking this calm and welcoming demeanor. In a moments notice they could turn on him and do horrible things. He thought of all of the cheap horror movies where ghosts and demons terrorize families and friends, possessing them or causing them to succumb to misadventures.

He could see his disappearance going on news where search parties would be sent out, only to find his glow sticks or something like that. They would hold an empty casket funeral and then some indie movie developer will base some cheesy personal camera horror on it. He didn't want to be immortalized in a film that will score seventeen percent on Rotten Tomatoes.

"What are you going to do with me?" Crisp asked.

"We're going to eat you." The youngest said and gnashed his teeth. Crisp recoiled back and he laughed.

"We're not going to do anything. We've had our fun." Albert said and pushed Nicholas aside. "You ca..." He was about to say something else when George whispered something into his ear, his grin going from ear to ear. The grin was soon passed on to Albert who shook his head, the both of them looked at Crisp hungrily. "We'll let you go." Albert crossed his arms. "If you do something for us in return."

"What is it?" He would do anything at this point to get out of this nightmare house.

The three brothers looked at each other. "To earn your freedom." George said all high and mighty. "You must do our bidding til sunrise."

It sounded innocent enough and Crisp really couldn't think of anything that they could make him do that wouldn't be worth it. "Deal." He said immediately. "Whatever, I just want to get home." Crisp stood up. "What do you want me to do?" He was eager to get it all over with.

"I do believe that you've been wanting to do something for a long time, Nick." Albert patted Nicholas on his head fur.

"Yeah." He shook his head up and down, his ears flopping back and forth. "Follow me." He ran off and into a wall before coming back and gave an embarrassed grin. "Right you can't go through walls." He took off again down the hall while the other two brothers went through the wall. Crisp followed the small pup as he led them through the maze, taking sharp turns. Nicholas had to stop several times to make sure he didn't lose his new plaything, but he never got annoyed. His tail wagged beat the air in a flurry the entire time.

They eventually reached the stairs that led up to the kitchen, turns out that every time the ghosts forced Crisp to turn around, it was because he was getting close to finding his way out.

"Why did you do this to me?" Crisp asked Nicholas, taking note of how the ghost walked across flat surfaces but hovered up the stairs, his toes clipping through them on occasion.

"Do what?" He said innocently.

"Harass me all night."

"Oh, that." He giggled that same giggle that Crisp had been hearing all night. "We don't get many visitors here, so when we do... we like to have some fun."

"You'd get more people to come if you didn't chuck things at them and scare them off." Crisp countered.

"That's no fun." Nicholas reached the top of the stairs and veered off. He took Crisp back to the foyer and up to the second story where they ended up in the female's room where Albert and George were waiting for them."

"What took you so long?" George flicked Nicholas' ear.

"Hey." He grabbed his ear. "It's not my fault he can't go through walls." He pointed at Crisp. "You know that."

George rolled his eyes.

"What are we doing here?" Crisp cut them off before they began to argue. They really were brothers. Kevin always got into arguments with his younger brother who was in junior high. They argued over everything and anything. They've gotten into arguments over who gets more ice cream during dessert to not going onto the other's side of the sink when they were brushing their teeth and Crisp learned early on that the best way to stop it was to simply cut them off and introduce a new subject which the arguing siblings would pick up immediately.

Albert answered, he seemed know exactly what Crisp had done and put himself between the two younger siblings. "It's been a long time since Nicholas has had a playmate and George and I can't keep it up." He looked around the room. "Elsa... our sister..." He paused for a moment. "She used to fill that role, but that's no longer the case, it's your job for now."

Nicholas seemed extremely excited, he could barely keep still. "We're going to play dress up."

"Dress up?"

"Yeah." He shouted too loudly for indoors.

Albert explained. "It's what Elsa and he did. I don't understand why he likes dress up so much, but it's what he wants."

"OK." Crisp nodded. "Sounds easy enough."

"You can say that, now just relax." Albert said and George had that grin on his face.

"Relax? What do you...AHAHH HAH" Nicholas ran right at Crisp, fading into him. It felt as if some sticky ooze was seeping into him through his pores as the pup disappeared into his body. Crisp shuddered as he felt Nicholas inside of him, an unwelcome presence just under his skin. He gagged and fell to his knees. "What are you doing?" Crisp managed to cough out, spittle spindling down to the carpeted floor.

"He wants to play dress up." George said. "Not with you, but as you."

"Just relax." Albert said, not at all worried. He was digging non existent dirt from under his fingernail. "It won't be long."

Crisp's mind became flooded with that of Nicholas. He could hear his thoughts in his head and even his voice.

"Wow." Crisp squeaked out in a high pitched voice that he couldn't control. He cupped his mouth shut with his paw, but something made him put his paw back down.

Crisp heaved once more before his muscles relaxed. He had no control over what he was doing now, though he could still speak.

"Get out of me." Crisp demanded.

"You feel funny." Another voice come out of Crisp's mouth, it was Nicholas who had settled into the new body. "I don't like these things." He wiggled his paws, showing Crisp's sneakers. "Why do you wear them?"

"They're comfortable." Crisp answered back.

"Whatever."

The two others were snickering and Crisp glared at them.

Having lost control of his body, Crisp was unable to stop himself from going over to the closet that held the ballerina outfit. He knew what was coming. "This is how you do dress up?"

"Elsa never let me touch this." Nicholas replied. It was an odd sensation having another person speak through his mouth. "She always dressed me up in her other boring clothes." His hand waved dismissively towards the other dressers. "I've always wondered what wearing this was like."

"Are you the one who kept it in such good shape?" Crisp asked and his head nodded.

"It wasn't hard and Albert helped." He reached out and grabbed the hangar and pulled out the suit and laid it across the bed where the photos were.

"What are the photos for?" Crisp asked, beginning to accept that there was nothing he could do to stop what was going to happen next.

"We died is what happened." George said very seriously. He seemed to have trouble controlling his emotions.

"If you didn't keep pulling on the chandelier." Albert scolded his brother.

"It was your idea." George snapped back.

"You kept pulling." Albert stood a head taller than his brother and used his height to his advantage to look down on him. "If you had stopped when I said so, it couldn't have fallen."

"And I wouldn't have come crashing down through the ceiling." Nicholas said as he pulled off Crisp's jacket, revealing his bare chest. Crisp could feel the slightest hint of arousal in the ghost as he took a moment to look down at the body he was possessing.

"And killed us all." Albert finished. "No one took it very well."

"Then everyone left in a rush?" Next came the pants that were kicked off to the side. Nicholas seemed fine with letting Crisp keep the shoes since there was no way he was going to fit in the ballerina slippers that were sitting at the bottom of the closet.

Nicholas tried to take off the underwear, but a quick mental slap on the wrist stopped him with a claw under the waistband. He could feel him frowning.

"Everyone left when George thought it was a good idea to appear in front of mom in the middle of the night and nearly gave her a heart attack."

"It wasn't my fault that she couldn't recognize her own son."

"They left the next morning and never came back." There was a hint of sadness to Albert's voice. "Didn't even get to say goodbye. Now we're stuck here for... I don't' know. A long time."

Nicholas picked up the suit and slipped a foot through it. It was tight, the fabric squeezing Crisp's thigh and bunching up the leg fur. He hated how the other two were now watching attentively. The suit had a tutu on it and it was meant for a female, not him.

The suit came on fast and Nicholas had Crisp do a few turns on his toes. "How do I look?"

"Ridiculous." George said.

"Elsa would like it."

"Elsa would kill me if she knew that I touched this." Nicholas grabbed at the tail hole in the back to undo a wedgie, digging a bit too deep for comfort and what was necessary.

"You happy now?" Crisp asked as he was forced to watch himself do twirls in front of a mirror. The sight of himself in the suit was ridiculous, it hugged his body tightly and it gave him a real feminine look.

"Oh, no." Nicholas said. "We forgot the stockings." He picked at Crisp's legs. "We need stockings."

"I got it." George said and rushed away and went to a dresser where he pulled out a pair of pink stockings. They looked small. Crisp hated his grin now. He was really enjoying this.

Crisp was back in his underwear and Nicholas picked up the stockings. He kicked off the shoes which laid at the foot of the bed. "Going to have to strip or the underwear will bunch up the stockings.

"Oh, no." Crisp argued. "I'm not getting naked."

"Then you're not leaving." Albert said sternly. "We have an agreement."

Crisp growled but didn't stop Nicholas from removing the underwear. He blushed when cool air hit his manhood that hung limply, it was white at the base like his tummy fur, but changed to a pink at the head. Below it hung a pair of snowy white balls. Crisp was glad he didn't have a hard on.

Nicholas slipped on the stockings without too much delay, though he could tell that he was enjoying it by the way he slowly put on a show for his brothers by sticking out his but and wagging his tail. The other two ate up the sight.

Next the ballerina suit went back on and then the shoes.

"I thought you didn't like the shoes." Crisp grinned.

"I don't, but they look funny and I want you too look funny." He said it innocently, but it still wiped the grin off of Crisp's face.

He went back to the mirror and did more twirls.

"Do it just like how Elsa did it for the picture." George was busting a gut.

"Like this?" Nicholas came onto his toes and raised his arms over his head and then tip toed around the room.

"Exactly!" George was on the floor laughing and even at one point sunk through the wooden floorboards. It was hard to remember that they were ghosts sometimes, they looked so solid and they had even gotten rid of their ghostly glows.

"Try the leap." Albert egged on Nicholas and he complied.

For a whole hour, Nicholas used Crisp's body to perform little dance for the amusement of the others. He twirled, leapt through the air with his legs splayed out and did all kinds of demeaning moves that he never would have imagined him doing ever in his life. He had a permanent blush on his face the entire time and he was so relieved when Nicholas released control of his body back to him.

"Finally." Crisp sighed. He was sweating from all of the dancing and began to take off the suit. He had enough of it.

"Oh, no you don't" George moved in front of Crisp, blocking his path to his clothes that were on the bed. "Keep it on. I think it looks quite smashing."

"I agree." Albert moved up behind Crisp, sandwiching him between the two brothers. "Nick had his fun, now it's our turn."

"I'm going to need you to leave Nick." George looked over at his younger brother.

"Why?" Nicholas became distressed and made a pouty face.

"Just go." Albert, who obviously held the most authority of the three said. "We'll call you when you can come back."

Nicholas crossed his arms and pouted. "Fine." He turned around and walked through the door and away.

"Why did you send him away?" Crisp said, afraid. Their eyes weren't meeting him, instead their gaze went up and down his body, stopping with no shame on his crotch and ass that was being prominently displayed beneath the tutu.

"Well. Even though he is one hundred and one years old... he still has the mind of a ten year old and children shouldn't see somethings." George got closer, his chest clipping into Crisp's giving him that same slimy feeling as when Nicholas pushed himself into his body.

Crisp was so focused on George that he didn't notice Albert coming up from behind enter him crotch first right in the ass. He felt the slime seep into his hole and then the rest of the ghost meld into him. It was perverse and intrusive and that got his attention long enough for George to do the same thing, except from the front.

"Hoh." Crisp gave out a gasp as he felt both of the ghosts slip into him and their bodies twine with his own. He felt warm and cold at the same time and strangely aroused. His hands went to his crotch and gave himself a squeeze. Crisp then realized that it wasn't him doing that but one of the ghosts who was horny and giving him an erection that pushed out against the fabric of the ballerina outfit.

"It's been so long." Albert said and a hand began to push aside the crotch fabric and the stocking to reveal Crisp's rock hard member that sprung out. "So very long."

"Too long." George said and began to run a closed fist up and down Crisp's shaft. They all three moaned both verbally and mentally and one of them, Crisp couldn't tell which one, laid them down on the bed, pushing aside the clothes and the pictures.

They continued to stroke Crisp's cock, letting the pre that was forming dribble down onto his hand and even onto the ballerina costume where puddles began to form.

Though Crisp had been off put at first, he couldn't help but enjoy the sensation of having someone jerk him off with his own hand. It was as if someone else was doing it, but they really weren't. It was very arousing and being in the same body, they all shared the same kind of feelings and emotions. Whenever one of the brothers moaned mentally, Crisp couldn't help but moan as well.

Fingers came up, wet with pre and one of the brothers sucked on them. It was a little bitter and left an aftertaste, but that on top of the smell got Crisp even more aroused. A cloud swept over his head as the fingers then found their way under his tail where they slid between his cheeks.

"Uhhg." Crisp groaned as he was forced open by his own fingers. The other hand kept stroking himself off. The fingers dig into him, finding his prostate and rubbing against it, pressing and kneading it with the rough pads of his paw.

"Fuck." Albert moaned with Crisp in unison. They could all feel the climax approaching, that tense feeling at the base of the spine, tingling and growing stronger.

A second finger was inserted, forcing its way in and stretching Crisp out even more. Red pain flashed in his vision, but he couldn't do anything to stop it and he actually didn't want it to stop.

"Almost." George whispered and began to furiously stroke Crisp's rod that might as well have belonged to the ghost at this point, he was just along for the ride at this point.

Crisp's back arched when he climaxed and he thrust into his paw as a wave of euphoria swept over him, quickly followed by a searing sensation of pleasure that rocketed down his cock, traveling with the first jet of cum that shot into the air. It hung there for a moment, a white glob of Crisp's seed before it came back down, landing right on his chest. This was followed by a second and a thirst spurt of cum that painted Crisp's chest, even hitting his chin as he looked down to watch.

Albert took control of the paw that was furiously stroking his prostate, sending spasmodic sensations through him and making the orgasm all the more powerful. George on the other hand... kept stroking off Crisp, not letting his used up cock deflate. They were going for a second round.

It was here that they ghosts let their guard down and suddenly Crisp got a look into their minds.

"George." Albert groaned.

"Keep it down." George shushed Albert. The image was fuzzy but as the two brothers took control of Crisp, he got a clearer image of their minds. George was leaning over Albert, his hips pressed tightly into his ass. They were fucking each other. "Don't want to wake mum and dad." He ground his hips forward and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Harder." Albert reached down and grabbed a hold of George's hips and pulled him as far as he could into himself. His pleasure became Crisp's pleasure as he both felt the cock buried in him and the ass that was being buried at the same time.

George pulled back almost entirely before he shoved himself forward hard, slapping into Albert who groaned.

"I'm serious." George leaned forward and slowly pulled back out and thrust into his older brother again. "If mum and dad wake up, we're going to really get it."

Albert didn't seem to care, he used his hands to guide George in and out of him, his own cock raging and throbbing with pent up pleasure. Pre was drooling out of the slit, water falling down and getting into Albert's mature crotch fur.

George on the other hand was serious. He grabbed a pillow and slapped it onto Albert's face who obediently bit into it to muffle his groans.

Happy now, George leaned forward and took hold of Albert's hips and rolled his hips, pistoning his cock into Albert's ass. In and out, it made a lewd squelching noise as pre lubricated the hole.

Crisp groaned out loud. The other two didn't seem to know that Crisp had access to one of their most private memories, they were just happy with the new source of pleasure that was allowing them to keep masturbating. After decades of going dry without any physical pleasure, they would ignore the end of the world if they could.

Back in the memory, Albert's fingers brushed up through George's leg fur, feeling the muscles tense and relax. Crisp could feel it on his own fingers, the sensation getting lost with that of his cock and prostate. He was almost ready to blow his second load.

A hand clasped around Albert's smooth pink flesh, sending small electric shocks that Crisp's mind had a hard time processing. So much was happening at one, so many feeling and sensations, all of them were so good. The hand caressed the cock gently, a claw teased the wet hole at the top, prodding in and out of it as the palm ran up and down its length.

George was getting tense, both in the memory and in real life as he pounded his brother thoroughly and his hand went up and down both length with a sense of urgency.

All three of them, in all forms, yelled out to the heavens as a multitude of climaxes wracked Crisp's body all at once. He felt every single one send seizure like jolts and spasms. His legs kicked out and flayed as all of his muscled tensed and relaxed, trying to play out both his real orgasm and the orgasms in the memory. Claws dug into mattresses, fingers tensed and pulled at fur, more hot cum was shot across chests and into orifices, Crisp couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. He couldn't think straight until the real orgasm faded and the memory went away with the last image being that of George fallen over Albert, embraced in a warm hug.

"I think we can go again." Albert said, Crisp wasn't so sure.

Hours later and seven orgasms later, they finally stopped. Crisp was a wreck, his arm was so tired and his ass was so sore. His chest was completely covered in cum, ruining the ballerina suit entirely. Nicholas probably wasn't going to be happy about that. The bedding was torn up from his claws that dug into the bedding. Everything was wrecked.

Even the ghosts in their ethereal like states inside of Crisp were exhausted.

"You did good." George said to Crisp who physically could not respond. He was too drained in every way that the ghosts had a hard time moving his limbs. The last two orgasms had taken half an hour apiece, but they had managed it when Crisp had dug back into the memories of the ghosts. It turns out that they had a very intimate relationship that had started very early on. Crisp didn't necessarily agree with the brothers having sex on such a regular, almost nightly basis, but it had helped him get through the night.

Crisp managed to turn his head to the side to look out the window. The sun was rising and as the first rays of light seeped into the room and laid their warming beams onto Crisp, he felt them fade away until he had full control again. He had held up his side of the bargain and they kept their own word.

The wolf took a moment to regain his strength before he got up and off of the bed. The bedsheets clung to him as dried cum glued him down. He peeled the blankets off and then the ballerina outfit. Other than his hands and the bottom of his chin which was crusty with a disturbingly thick layer of dry and half dry cum, Crisp was pretty clean. He was sweaty and needed a shower, but he felt somewhat refreshed as he pulled on how own clothes and put the ballerina outfit back into the closet. He felt guilty ruining it like that even though it wasn't his fault, it really was a nice outfit even if it was meant for a girl.

He walked over to the door and saw that it was slightly ajar. Nicholas, the little bastard had watched them for who knows how long. He shrugged, there was nothing to about it now.

Slowly on legs that were like jello, Crisp walked to the front door that had been sealed shut hours before. It opened easily and Crisp breathed in the fresh smell of morning dew. The sun was shining bright and there was no sign of the massive storm from the previous night. It was a beautiful day.

Crisp slowly walked down the main steps and out of the broken gate. He turned one last time to the house, no longer afraid of looking into the windows that stared blankly back. He wondered if anyone would notice if he was away from his apartment tomorrow night.