"No problem, then."

Grin. "They're mostly collected down in the basement - I'd figured that was classic - and there should be some boxes you can load things up in. The river out behind the property is a good dumping ground for bodies, though be careful you don't fall in. It's faster and deeper than it looks."

"I'll be careful. Keep the door open, yeah?"

Off to collect some bodies. Ellie's a bit curious if they used to be the ghost's family or what.

Sadly, the ghost can't answer questions outside her room without something to write in. 

The skeletons are grouped, all the bones that belonged to each person laid out fairly carefully, their skulls on a little ledge above their bodies, some of what might be their belongings at their feet. This is a big basement - it probably used to be a root cellar - and there's something like a dozen skeletons, all adults. Some of the belongings look distinctly more modern than the ghost's 'been here for over a century.' The newest looks like the owner might've been from the seventies or eighties -

About when the more salacious ghost stories place an unexplained disappearance of a college-aged girl in the area, actually. 

Lots of the bones are broken, too, nearly universally the calf bones on at least one leg, often also hands, forearms, and ribs. Some broken neck and collar bones, too.

The doors are all helpfully propped wide open. 

...Was she- collecting people? Breaking a leg would be a good way of trapping someone. Wonder how she did it.

Suppose Ellie was lucky to have caught her interest in other ways, then.

She gathers up the bones and starts ferrying them out.

The house is pretty helpful! As much as she can be, at least, but she can move a broom in - and then a second broom which she animates to help sweep the little stubborn bone shards into boxes. 

It does seem like she has a much worse hold on the skeletons than everything that belongs in the house; she doesn't even try animating them. 

That's why Ellie's here.

She returns to the room after she's done.

"Hey," she says. "Thanks for doing that."

"Thanks for not breaking my legs."

Giggle. "You're interesting. And you stayed really calm even when I was being grouchy and half asleep, and you weren't a jerk."

"Those other people didn't?"

"No. Though I was also a lot grouchier right after my death - the most recent girl had been the first in a while, and I tried to make friends first. But she was a jerk and not really interesting so I had a different kind of fun instead."

She tilts her head, examining Ellie.

She crosses her arms.

"My bones are off-limits."

She laughs. "I'd never."

"Are you bothered that I killed other people?"

Shrug.

"Wasn't anyone I care about. Or knew, even."

"Good. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You haven't yet."

Bright smile. 

"Let's get working on the rest of the ritual..."

Back to work.

Cleaning was the most time consuming step. The proper ritual itself summons a heady feeling of power like nothing Ellie's ever done - she's gotten glimpses of this rush, but not the full scope of death at her fingertips.

Something shifts in the air, palpable, when the ghost's anchor snaps to the dagger sheath. Something about her shifts - not her appearance, really, or her behavior, but there's a feeling in the back of Ellie's teeth that whispers hunter, and the creeping feeling of a deep, threatening cave fades from the house. The room looks... Normal now, too, the window's constant hazy light fading to reveal the garden, the room looking merely old rather than drained. 

The knife sheath, though - it looks wicked now. 

"That was incredible."

"Yeah!!!" She laughs, twirling. "I feel so different!"

"More knifey?"

Giggle. "Yeah. And lighter."

"The sheath's a lot smaller than a house. So that... makes sense?"