Tia Ramelan woke up to a handwritten note taped to her forehead.
"MEETING. DINING ROOM. 9 AM.BRING COFFEE. OR ELSE.– BZ 💀"
Groaning, she peeled it off and stumbled downstairs in her pajamas, a mug of emergency caffeine clutched like a weapon.
Waiting for her was Ba'zaroth, seated dramatically at the head of the dining table, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses like some kind of cursed cruise director.
Beside him sat Lady Eugenia, DJ Deadbeat, Ellis (holding a sign that said "HELP"), and Mr. Floofers, who was gnawing on a devil-shaped stress toy.
There was also a box of suspiciously glowing donuts.
"Good morning, minions!" Ba'zaroth beamed. "Ready to expand your brand?"
Tia squinted. "I am not your minion."
"Details," Ba'zaroth said, waving it off. "Shall we begin?"
The "proposal" was an absolute fever dream.
Ba'zaroth clapped, and a miniature PowerPoint presentation floated in midair.
Slide 1:Welcome to RAMELAN & BA'ZAROTH, INC!™
Slide 2:A Joint Venture into Paranormal Hospitality!
Slide 3:A projected growth chart that looked suspiciously like a screaming face.
Tia sipped her coffee very slowly. "Explain. Carefully."
Ba'zaroth clicked to the next slide.A vision board flashed up: neon signage, viral TikToks, luxury "Ghost Staycation" packages.
"Picture it," Ba'zaroth purred. "Not just a haunted B&B. A destination. A brand. Paranormal retreats! Haunted cooking classes! Ghost yoga! Ouija board brunches!"
DJ Deadbeat dropped a spooky yoga beat in excitement.
Lady Eugenia leaned forward, intrigued. "Yoga, you say?"
Tia blinked. "You want me to... franchise the haunt?"
Ba'zaroth steepled his fingers. "Think bigger. Haunted hotels. Haunted theme parks. Haunted airlines."
Ellis scribbled frantically:"Is the pilot a ghost?"
"Maybe!" Ba'zaroth said cheerfully. "Think of the frequent flyer programs!"
Tia rubbed her temples.
"Why would you even want this?"
Ba'zaroth grinned, sharp teeth flashing. "Because chaos, darling. Delicious, delicious chaos. And also: quarterly profits."
Lady Eugenia whispered, "I could have a ghost boutique… Sell weeping mirrors…"
DJ Deadbeat was already designing merchandise.("Official 'I Got Possessed at Ramelan House' T-shirts.")
Even Mr. Floofers wore a tiny branded hat now.
They were buying into it.
Tia's stomach twisted.
Sure, expanding sounded cool. Fun, even.
But Ba'zaroth wasn't just offering opportunity.
He was dangling strings.
Strings tied to contracts, curses, and probably eternal soul leases hidden in the fine print.
She needed time.
And maybe a lawyer. Or an exorcist. Or both.
"I'll think about it," Tia said carefully.
Ba'zaroth beamed. "Splendid! Take your time. Not too much, though. There's a blood moon coming. Very synergistic for marketing launches."
He slid a glowing donut toward her. "On the house."
Tia stared at it like it might bite her.
(It winked.)
The day only got weirder from there.
The moment Ba'zaroth left, the house shifted.
Doors led to wrong rooms.
Mirrors reflected things that weren't there.
And the dumbwaiter kept delivering unsolicited cheese platters.
"Is it just me," Tia said, eyeing a plate labeled 'FROM MANAGEMENT', "or is the house... alive-er than usual?"
Lady Eugenia floated upside down, sipping haunted tea. "It feels... awake."
Ellis wrote:"Like it knows you're choosing."
Tia shivered.
The house loved her.
It wanted to stay small, weird, cozy.
It didn't want to become a paranormal amusement park.
She didn't want to lose what made this place home.
But how could she say no to Ba'zaroth without consequences?
That night, Tia dreamed.
She stood at a crossroads made of mist and moonlight.
Down one path: neon lights, endless crowds, golden coins raining from the sky.
Down the other: a creaky porch, ghostly laughter, banana bread floating gently in midair.
At the crossroads stood Ba'zaroth, juggling contracts.
And behind him—something bigger.
A shadow with a crown of rusted iron.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
Tia woke up sweating.
The house groaned softly around her.
She had to decide.
Fast.
The next morning, Ba'zaroth was waiting.
"Tick tock," he sang, tapping a pocket watch that oozed black smoke.
Tia took a deep breath.
Stared him dead in the eye.
And said:
"No."
For a moment, the world paused.
Even the curtains held their breath.
Ba'zaroth's smile flickered.
"Are you sure?" he purred. "I could sweeten the deal. Stock options. Haunted skincare line. Eternal youth program."
Tia crossed her arms. "This house is my home. My real home. Not a brand. Not a product. If you don't like it—you can leave."
Ba'zaroth laughed.
A low, dangerous sound.
"I don't leave empty-handed," he said. "There will be... compensation."
Tia stood her ground.
"Try me, velvet boy."
Ba'zaroth's grin sharpened.
"Very well," he whispered.
He snapped his fingers.
The floorboards trembled.
The walls shivered.
And somewhere deep beneath the house—
something woke up.
Outside, the first blood moon in a century began to rise.
Tia, heart hammering, squared her shoulders.
Ghosts or demons.
Tourists or terror.
Whatever came next—this was her house.
And she was going to fight for it.