Disclaimer: I do not own APH.

,,

Ludwig hummed softly to himself, still blushing after his date, as he unlocked the front door of his house. "Gilbert, I'm home." When there was no reply, Ludwig began to worry. "Gilbert? Are you here?" Ludwig frowned. His brother wasn't supposed to leave the house unsupervised. "Gi—Gilbert!"

Gilbert lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the stairs, a pool of blood congealing around his head. "Mein Gott…" Ludwig whispered. For a moment, all he could do was stare. Gilbert groaned softly, and Ludwig's mind kicked back into gear. His phone was in his hands before he'd realized it, and his fingers were punching in three numbers.

"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?"

,,

"…and this is the last room, and you can see the backyard from the window!" The cheerful Italian realtor smiled at Matthew. "So, what do you think? Do you want it?"

Matthew looked around the cozy, two-story Victorian that he was honestly considering buying. It was near the college he was attending, and… "Why is it so cheap? I've heard some rumors about it, and I was wondering if any of them had basis in fact."

Mr. Vargas laughed nervously. "Well, about that…there was an accident here a few years ago. A young man fell down the stairs and was killed. Everyone who's lived here after that has, er..." The realtor didn't mention the fact that, at the time, he had been dating his now-husband, the dead man's younger brother.

"So people think it's haunted?" Matthew thought of his brother's fear of ghosts, his father's obsession with the occult. "I can deal with that. Is there anything else?"

The realtor shook his head hurriedly. "No, no, nothing at all! Everything else is absolutely perfect!"

"I'll take it."

,,

Gilbert scowled at the man arranging the dry goods in the cupboards. Gilbert's cupboards. Well, actually Ludwig was the only one to ever put away (or even buy) any groceries, but still, it was the spirit of the thing!

Spirit. Keeseese. Gilbert laughed mentally at his own (bad) pun. Not expecting the stranger to be able to hear him (none of the others before had) Gilbert leaned against the counter and loudly intoned, "Boo."

,,

Matthew jumped, and spun to face the intruder. "Who's there?" He demanded, kitchen knife he had grabbed from the counter gleaming dangerously.

He stared at the man lounging in his kitchen like he owned the place. White bangs fell into crimson eyes, pale arms crossed over a narrow chest, and a look of surprise that mirrored Matthew's own pulled at his face.

"Who are you?" Matt snarled, not letting his fear show in his tone.

"Y-you…you can see me?" Matthew heard a definite accent-German, maybe?-in the man's shocked tone.

"What do you mean, can I see you? Of course I can see you! Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" Matt lunged forward slightly, still holding the knife. The pale stranger cringed defensively.

"No need to get violent." The man held his hands up, as if to ward Matthew off. "It's just that no one's ever been able to see me before, is all."

Matthew frowned suspiciously. "Why wouldn't they be able to?"

"Well…I'm kind of a ghost."

"How stupid do I look to you, eh?" Matthew snarled the last syllable, effectively hiding his terror.

"You don't look stupid! I really am a ghost! Watch." The man slowly grew translucent, and he lowered his hand through the countertop. "See?"

Matthew gaped. "I…I never should have let Lars talk me into eating those brownies…Did he put acid in them or something? I thought he only did pot…" He continued rambling about his druggie friend as the ghost stared at him.

"Um, kid?" Pale fingers tapped Matthew on the shoulder. "Whether or not you're high is irrelevant to the fact that I exist."

"You just touched me. You t-touched me. I've never heard of hallucinations touching people before…" Matthew shivered. "You're real, aren't you? Alfred's not just crazy, ghosts really do exist, and I'm talking to one right now, aren't I?"

"Well, I don't know about this Alfred guy, but yeah, ghosts exist, and yeah, you are talking to one. The name's Gilbert, Gilbert Beilschmidt. Who're you?"

"I-I'm Matthew Williams. A…are you really a, a…ghost?" Matthew wrung his hands in a nervous tic he wasn't aware of.

"Sadly enough, yeah." Gilbert pulled his feet off the ground so that he hovered about a yard off the linoleum, hands resting on his ankles.

"Um, are you the person the realtor was talking about? The one who f-fell down the stairs?"

"Feli told you that I fell down the stairs? The hell?" Gilbert grew silent for a moment. "Oh yeah, I remember now. The popo never figured out what happened, did they?" Gilbert snorted harshly. "No one ever realized that I was pushed down those stairs."

"Pushed? Y-you mean you were m-m…murdered?" Matthew's eyes grew wide behind his glasses. Gilbert nodded.

"Yeah. I heard someone in the house, so I went looking for 'em, 'cause it didn't sound like Ludwig. I check the downstairs first, and when I made it to the top of the steps someone bashed my head in and down I went. I never got a look at the bastard's face, but I did hear him laughing. Everything went black and the next thing I knew I was dead."

"I-I see…"

..

Chapter One of Haunted House! Woot! This is my first attempt at writing a story with an outline, so wish me luck! Also, to all the people who read Alphabet Soup, hi!
ChiCho out!