“ONWARD, MY MINION!” Ryland shouted and phased through the door, the mouse quickly followed.

  “How did you put up with him?” Steve turned to the zombie. Both enjoyed the moment of silence.

  —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Ryland and his new minion crept through the halls, spying on the various patrons. Walking into the common room, the ghost approached a group of guards. Coins were tossed onto the table as they played a round of cards. Unlike the bandits from before, these guys were playing fair.

  “Boring lot”

  Clinking glasses shifted his focus onto a new group. While they were not wealthy, the crew was dressed well. Some kind of merchant or traveling salesman.

  “Heard a bandit encampment was wiped out.”

  “Good riddance costs me nearly a quarter of my profits to hire these guards.”

  “Word is they can’t tell what got them. Lots of wreckage, and some appeared to be mauled by animals.”

  “Wolves? I’d say a half-decent crew should be able to take a pack of wolves.”

  “Ahh, most likely they got a batch of bad booze. Ambushed while drunk and now puking on Deas’ toes”

  “Still, the Mayor sent word to the main city. Something off on it, and he is requesting investigations”

  “Doubt they will agree. It’s just some bandits, anyway. I don’t want my taxes paying for that! Sides, not like some animals would attack a well-stocked caravan.”

  “Yea yea, still careful on the roads. Might be more than wolves out there.”

  Ryland took mental notes from the conversation. A royal detective would reveal that these were not animal bites but something far more sinister. Still, they would be long gone before anyone would arrive. As long as they kept the trail clean, it would become a cold case. Packing the knowledge away, Ryland decided to do what he did best.

  Leaning over, he glanced at the merchant’s key–Second floor, room three. A greedy grin snaked along his face as he turned back towards the stairs.

  “Oh…hang on” he pivoted and rushed the guard’s table.

  When the winner reached for the pool of coins, Ryland slapped the man’s face with his [Chilling Touch].

  “Oi what the hell was that!” The guard cried out.

  A few drinks were knocked over as his legs smashed on the underside. The others stared back with a look of confusion and concern. Slowly, the man rubbed his face trying to warm the cold flesh. His head scanned the crowd trying to identify the attacker.

  “You are going to pay for that right?” one interrupted.

  “What?...Oh. Sorry, I swear somebody just hit me with a spell or something” He mumbled.

  “Sure…” He snapped and the barmaid quickly rushed over with an old towel.

  Ryland left the scene laughing like a madman. Being a ghost was fucking awesome! Looking back at the mouse, the critter gave him a disapproving look.

  “What? You’d do it too if you weren’t so small”

  Squeak

  Or it tried to, instead a black ball of sticky phlegm gurgled out of its broken maw.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “That’s nasty…let’s go” he commanded, he didn’t need no stinking mouse judging him.

  The man and his mouse returned to the second floor and into the merchant’s room. He walked about the room, trying to find the stored goods.

  Snap

  A few snaps shifted his attention towards the door. Glancing down, the mouse was struggling to enter the room. Little claws pulled and tugged at the wood dragging the bulky behind through. Unlike a living creature, the threat of injury was non-existent. Even as the spine shattered and nails tore, it didn’t stop.

  “Ok, hang on buddy” Ryland reached down and solidified his essence.

  A surge of negative energy lept between his fingers and into the creature's flesh. He felt a tug at his pool of power and jolted back.

  “What the…” it was the same feeling as the ritual only on a smaller scale.

  Whatever it was, the mouse used the surge and broke through the barrier. The thing shoots out like a rocket and rolls across the floor. Moments later it smashed into the chair leg with a crunch–it’s body going still.

  “Dammit!” Ryland cursed. He’d need to get another made and somehow dispose of this one.

  Turning to the exit, the snapping sound returned. His eyes drifted back to the critter as the thing began to undulate. Bones shifted back into place while the talons regrew. It was a macabre sight as the panting mouse struggled back to its feet. Even with broken limbs, it fought valiantly. However, the tenacity won out in the end and the mouse was back and better then before. Shaking its head, it glanced back up at Ryland. Both were surprised at the transformation.

  “Yeah…I’m going to need to talk to Steve about that.”

  Ignoring the…incident, the two searched the room for goodies. The mouse squeaked in excitement whenever it found food.

  “Not food. Shinies, like this.” He pointed at a ring. It didn’t look expensive, but it would hopefully convey the point.

  Instead, it ignored the ghost and continued to chow down on the dried jerky.

  “No, Steve said to listen!” he activated his skill and forced his presence onto the mouse.

  Both got into a stare contest, a battle of wills that neither wanted to lose. One greedy ghost faced the ravenous rat. When both sides refused to budge, Ryland shifted tactics.

  “OOOK, One more big bite then shinies…deal”

  The critter shook its head in agreement and forced down a large chunk of meat. It wasn’t happy, but some battles were not worth fighting.

  “Hmm…Jackpot”

  Ryland found the merchant’s main stash. While he could see it, he could feel the gold within. Various rings and metal tucked inside a coin purse. Calling to the minion, the mouse eagerly rushed up the dresser and into the drawer. His accomplice tearing through the cotton pouch and spilling the goods within. It was a simple task to retrieve the rings, each one placed on top before diving back in for the next.

  “We gonna be eating good tonight” Ryland muttered

  Even as a ghost, he couldn’t break his rogish habits. It was such a rush, just completing a heist and spending the spoils. He’d need to get a few minion skills, this little mouse was a perfect partner. Reaching out, he tried to grab one of the glistening metals only for his fingers to phase through. His mood shifted, it was right there! Why couldn’t he just grab and go? He could do minor manipulations, why couldn’t he touch this?

  Focusing harder, he pushed nearly a quarter of his power into his fingers. Even with all that energy, the golden ring barely budged. A wave of anger washed over as he cursed. This wasn’t fair, this was his payout and now nothing. Pacing around the room, the ghostly thief brainstormed possible options. On the third circle, he caught the mouse chewing the jerky. A new idea sprung into his head and that ghastly grin returned. The poor critter sensed the mood shift and glanced up. Realizing something was going to happened, it turned and tried to bolt.

  “STOP” Ryland called

  It tried to fight, but Steve’s commands were clear. It was at the mercy of the greedy ghost.

  Oh how it wailed, how it cursed, and how it despised its master. The jewelry jingled as it shuffled across the desk. It’s neck squeezed between three separate rings, It’s tail knotted with a golden necklace, while it carried a earring in it’s maw. Ryland took a step back and giggled. It was ridiculous, the mouse was decked out in more jewels then a king. A golden critter wiggling across the floor. It’s gait awkward from the heavy weight.

  “Alright, that’s enough lets go!” Ryland gave the thing a thumbs up and went to leave.

  As he reached the door, the wooden portal swung open revealing a very drunk salesmen. Ryland paused, the merchant screamed, and the rat was confused. The drunkard stumbled forward, tripping as he reached for the adorned mouse. But the critter was quick, it dodged the giant and scrambled along the walls. Ryland pointed towards the window and the creature nodded. Scrambling up the curtains, it reached the windowsill and rushed outside.

  The merchant cried out as he rushed the window–nearly falling out as he swiped at the rat. Turning back, he started screaming.

  “I’ve been robbed! GUARDS GUARDS”

  His voice dulled as he ran down the steps and back toward the bar. The commotion woke other patrons as they stumbled into the halls. While the bulk looked toward the screaming man, Steve turned back toward Ryland. The ghost shivered. That gaze was pure hate. He felt small, worthless, and weak. He’d messed up.