The Hollow Ledger

LOCATION: HARROW HOUSE – STUDY, STILL CREEPY

The fire had gone out hours ago, but Gideon hadn't noticed. He was asleep in a very dramatic, vaguely uncomfortable armchair, one leg dangling over the side, and his mouth slightly open like he was auditioning for a sleep paralysis painting.

Then the book snapped shut.

SLAM.

He jolted awake and immediately whacked himself in the face with his own elbow.

"Ow—Godsdammit—what time is it?"

He blinked. The study was cold. The fire was dead. And the big evil ledger on the desk was glowing faintly, like it had something to say and wasn't waiting for permission.

Gideon groaned.

"Oh no. No. No-no. I already fought a ghost this week. And by fought, I mean screamed at it until it left out of pity."

The book opened itself. Pages flipped like an impatient librarian. And then, in neat, terrifying ink:

> ELSIRA GREAVES

Status: Unpaid

Location: Witherbridge Lane

Debt: 71 Years — Griefbound Contract

Category: Bound Spirit (Class II)

He squinted.

"Seventy-one years of grief? Who holds onto sadness that long? Is this a ghost or my ex?"

The book didn't laugh. Obviously. Books rarely did.

---

LOCATION: WITHERBRIDGE LANE – THE WORST AIRBNB EVER

The house looked like it had been built by someone who hated happiness. Its shutters were crooked, its walls looked like they'd been lightly chewed by time, and the whole thing leaned just enough to feel like a threat.

Gideon stood in front of it, holding a flashlight and exactly no plan whatsoever.

He looked down at the Ledger, which he now carried in a messenger bag that screamed "art school dropout," and muttered, "Alright, Elsira, let's make this quick. I've got leftover curry waiting at home."

As he stepped inside, the air changed. Not "uh-oh" changed—"there are dead people watching you change clothes" kind of changed.

The front room was dust and shadows. The mirrors on the wall seemed too clean.

And then she appeared.

Elsira Greaves hovered just above the floor, her face pale and sunken, her eyes full of endless sorrow. She wore a wedding gown turned gray with age and regret. Her mouth opened slowly—

And began to scream.

Not like "mildly upset ghost." No. This was full-on "being murdered in reverse" screaming.

Gideon flinched.

"Okay! Hi! Yes, I get it! You're upset! We all are! Have you seen gas prices?!"

The screaming paused.

A mirror on the far wall shattered. Something inside it... moved.

Gideon backed toward the hallway.

"Okay, so... I'm guessing the husband's in there. Cool. Totally fine. Haunted mirrors. Classic. Love that. Absolutely love that."

He reached into his coat and pulled out the silver chalk he'd forgotten he had until five minutes ago. The sigil for binding was mostly intact.

He crouched and started sketching on the dusty floor.

"Dear ghost lady, if you could just hold off on the murder while I draw this eldritch circle from memory like a D student cramming before a pop quiz—"

The mirror exploded.

A tall, faceless figure stepped out. Black suit. No eyes. No mouth. Just a presence that said, you owe me something.

The Hollowed Husband.

Gideon dropped the chalk.

"Oh come on."

---

FIGHT SCENE: SURPRISINGLY COMPETENT CHAOS

The ghost lunged. Gideon rolled—more like tripped forward, but it counted. He stumbled into a table, knocked over a vase, and flung the chalk at the spirit on instinct.

To his surprise, it hit the mark—literally. The glyph activated.

BOOM.

Light pulsed. The ghost staggered. Elsira wailed and clutched her chest.

"Oh? Oh that worked?" Gideon blinked. "...I mean, obviously it worked. Tactical brilliance."

The wraith regrouped. Mirrors around the room shivered, and ghostly arms began to reach through.

"Too many arms," Gideon muttered, "way too many arms for a marriage that ended in homicide."

He reached into the bag and yanked out the Ledger.

It opened on its own.

A phrase burned across the page:

> Invoke Balance.

"Right. That thing." He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. "Okay, scary book voice, don't fail me now."

He planted a foot on the chalk mark and shouted:

> "Debt acknowledged! Ledger invoked! Balance... or BURN!"

The floor glyph exploded with light.

The wraith shrieked and twisted, dissolving into white smoke. Elsira gasped—then collapsed, sobbing. Her form flickered... and faded.

---

LOCATION: HARROW HOUSE — STUDY, LATER THAT NIGHT

The Ledger sat open again, quietly smug.

New text scrawled across the page:

> ELSIRA GREAVES

Status: Balanced.

Secondary Note: Mirror Unsealed. Residual corruption present.

Next Debt: Pending.

Gideon slumped in the chair, shirt torn, hair a mess, and curry forgotten.

He took a swig of cheap whiskey.

"...I'm never getting my deposit back on that suit."

The fire crackled.

Outside, the rain started again.

And somewhere deep in the house, a faint whisper echoed from the Ledger's spine:

> Judgment is never done.