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Description
Hannah sighed in annoyance and tapped her foot, leaning against her truck while she waited for her partners. The shadow of the house she was parked by loomed over her, the two-story building having fallen into decay years ago. With broken windows, rotting wooden boards, holes broken into the porch and cobwebs, scratches, and dirt covering the walls and edges of the building, it truly looked the part of a haunted house.

But the 25-year-old was impatient, and she was considering going into the house despite the admonishings of her partners Paisley and Stella, to wait for them. She glanced at her watch once more, then whirled around, opening her truck and reaching inside to grab what she'd need. Hannah had been hunting the supernatural for nearly three years - she could handle a little ghost by herself.

Hannah was 5'8" with long, wavy light brown hair that she usually had pulled up into a ponytail, brown eyes, and light skin with a dotting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was of average build, strong from lifting equipment around and carrying it through dilapidated buildings, though her stomach remained softer thanks to her enjoyment of chocolate.

Having been simply relaxing at home when she got the news about this house, Hannah hadn't bothered to change before hopping in her truck and driving over. She wore sturdy black combat boots, a pair of worn and ripped high-rise dark jeans that hugged her body, and a form-fitting black tank top that accentuated her curves and was cropped just enough to expose a few inches of her pudgy belly and outie navel.

Shouldering a thick, sturdy backpack and holding an iron crowbar in one hand, Hannah sent off a text to Paisley and Stella before throwing her phone back in her truck and locking the doors, then setting up the steps of the creaky old house. There was no point in waiting for their responses, which would undoubtedly be telling her to stay put and wait for them, and bringing her phone into a potentially ghost-filled abode was simply asking for it to get lost or broken.

The door was locked, but it only took a minute for Hannah to pick it using the tools in her bag. She grabbed the rusty handle and the door swung open with a loud creak, revealing a dark, cobwebbed room that was covered in dust. Hannah reached into her bag and pulled out a sturdy metal flashlight, shining it into the dark corners of what must once have been a living room before stepping inside. She let the door swing closed behind her and walked further into the house. Each step elicited a soft creak from the old floorboards as she walked past a dark, sinking sofa and into the kitchen, trying to stay quiet and alert.

A noise from upstairs caught Hannah's attention. It didn't quite sound like a noise that would come from an empty old house - it was more suspicious, and Hannah grinned to herself as she quietly turned and moved towards the stairs. She crept up them slowly, carefully, trying to avoid the creakiest boards as she made her way to the top.

She inched down the hallway, peeking into each room as she went. She kept the iron bar clutched tight in her hand. She knew from experience that if - when - she did find a ghost, the best way to banish it would be to use iron against it, and she wanted to be fully prepared. She couldn't bear the embarrassment if it turned out she was unable to catch a ghost without the help of her two partners.

Suddenly, Hannah felt something graze the back of her exposed neck, dragging along down to her shoulder and making her flinch. She whirled around and swung the bar through the air. It flew easily, not at all like it was hitting the resistance of ectoplasm that would come from a ghost.

Hannah frowned, and slipped inside the room she was standing directly in front of. Inside was a metal bed frame, completely bare. Along the wall was an ancient wooden dresser, missing some handles and with a sheet lying over the top half, likely covering a mirror. In another corner sat a wooden chair, looking slightly uneven thanks to a portion of a leg missing. Everything was covered in a sheet of dust, and the one small rectangular window only let in a small amount of light.

Hannah crept inside the dimly-lit room, glancing around warily. She felt another strange sensation, like a phantom hand on her bare shoulder, and she spun around, swinging the bar through the air again. Nothing.

With a frown, Hannah lifted her foot to take a step forward, when suddenly she went flying. Her fingers loosened on the bar and it clattered away into a corner as Hannah landed on the empty bed with a loud, "Ooof!" She blinked, trying to orient herself as dust swirled into the air around her. She was held a few inches above the ground by the springs of the bed frame, which dug lightly into her back. "What the hell?" she muttered, starting to sit up.

Her breath left her suddenly as she was pushed back down by a heavy weight on her chest. With surprising speed, her hands flew up into the air above her head. When she tried to tug at them, to move them, it was as if an invisible but sturdy band was pinning them down, holding them in place. A pit grew in her stomach. Hannah knew how dangerous some ghosts could be when confronted, and this one clearly had the drop on her.

She tried to kick out, by her ankles were frozen in place just as her wrists were. And the most frustrating thing was... there was nothing there. The problem didn't even lie in the dim light of the room. There was simply nothing there. At least, nothing corporeal.

Hannah jumped when she felt, along her arm, the same hair-raising sensation brushing across her skin, leaving goosebumps behind. She took a deep breath. "I know you're there," she said aloud, feeling slightly foolish even though she knew that the ghost could hear and understand her, even if it couldn't respond in words of its own. "What do you want?"

The pressure on her wrists tightened and Hannah felt a slight breeze blow through the room. "EEEP!" she screeched suddenly, startled by a sensation on her bare stomach. Her already-cropped tank top had ridden up even further when she'd been flung onto the bed, and now it felt like something was crawling up her side, like a spider. She craned her head, but saw nothing. As she sucked in her stomach, feeling the thing continue to crawl, she realized that it was less like an insect, and more similar to the sensation of fingers slowly creeping across her belly. "What are you doing?" Hannah asked, unable to hide her panic.

The strange sensation was joined by another, crawling up her opposite side. The ghostly fingers didn't stop moving when they reached the top of her bare belly, instead beginning to move faster, dancing across her skin with light touches that had Hannah bursting into giggles before she could control herself. "Stohohohop!" she demanded, undulating her stomach and tugging at her trapped wrists. "This is insahahane, lehehet me gohohoho!"

The scribbling continued, something invisible scratching lightly at her belly as she tried fruitlessly to get away. The tickling of her belly continued, but it was like some of the fingers multiplied and broke away, and the creeping sensation moved up, over her sides, over her ribs covered by her top, to her underarms which were stretched out invitingly. Her armpits began to tingle as light scratches wiggled across the sensitive skin there. "Nohohohoho!" Hannah insisted again, tugging more frantically at her bound wrists as the tickling of her underarms slowly intensified. "Stohohop this! I'm gohohoing to dehehestrohohoy you!"

As soon as the threat passed her lips, the tickling intensified and Hannah was howling with laughter. It seemed like every inch of bare skin, from her stomach to her arms and armpits, to her neck, was being targeted by the ghost with invisible but maddeningly ticklish touches. "Stohohohohop!" she begged, unsuccessfully trying to protect her armpits, scrunch up her shoulders to hide her neck, and suck in her quivering belly. The ghost didn't seem deterred in the least by her squirming, and the merciless tickling continued.

Hannah sent a longing glance toward the iron bar, feet away in the corner of the room, before she dissolved into deeper laughter. "Nohohohoho!" she cried, sucking in her stomach in a useless attempt to protect her sensitive belly from more tickling. "Stohohohop this immediateEHEEHEEHEEHEE, NOHOHOHOHO!" Hannah writhed on the bed frame, screaming with laughter.

In the center of Hannah's soft, exposed stomach lay her outie navel, a round indent on her belly with a little button that protruded from the center. While her sensitive belly button had previously been ignored, now she could feel her navel being poked, and each touch sent a jolt of unbearable ticklishness through her. "NOHOHOHO, PLEHEHEHEHEASE! AHAHAHAHA STOHOHOHOHOP! DOHOHOHON'T TICKLE MY BEHEHEHELLY BUTTOHOHON PLEHEHEHEASE!" Hannah begged, her stomach flexing and tensing helplessly.

If anything, her words fueled the ghost. "NOHOHOHO!" she moaned, feeling tears of laughter prickle at her squeezed-shut eyes. There was a sensation like her outie was being pinched gently between fingers, and simultaneously, a feeling like small, relentless fingers were wriggling into the fold between the rim of her navel and the protruding knot in the center. "PLEHEHEHEASE!" Hannah rarely touched her own belly button it was so sensitive, and now even a few minutes of this tickling was turning out to be more than she could bear. "I'LL LEEHEHEHEHEAVE, AND I WOHOHON'T COOHOHOME BAHAHAHACK! I'LL LEHEHEAVE YOU ALOHOHOHONE! PLEHEHEHEASE!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Finally," Paisley murmured as she and Stella pulled up at the abandoned house that Hannah had texted them the address to. The petite, dark-skinned woman jumped out of the vehicle, pulling her curly mass of black hair into a quick ponytail as she did so. She'd received Hannah's message in the middle of her yoga class, and thus was wearing a form-fitting cropped t-shirt that showed off her abs and pierced navel, and leggings that hugged her slim figure.

Stella climbed out from the other side of the car. The 5'9" blonde shielded her eyes against the sun and frowned up at the creepy old house. She had been on her way home from a lunch date, and was perhaps the least appropriately dressed in a flowing, sleeveless blouse, a mini skirt, and high heels. "No more messages from Hannah?" she confirmed. Paisley shook her head, and Stella sighed.

"Of course she'd go in without us," she muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Who knows what's in there too-" Stella paused, her words fading off as she cocked her head.

"What?" Paisley asked, grabbing an iron bar from the backseat and tossing another one to Stella, who caught it easily. She slung a bag over her shoulder as Stella's frown deepened.

"Do you hear that?" she asked. Paisley paused, and listened carefully. It was difficult to tell through the slightly blowing wind, but from the far side of the house, it almost sounded like someone... screaming, or crying, or laughing, or all three.

Paisley and Stella exchanged a glance, then darted into the house without another word. The noises grew in volume after they stepped through the front door, and as the quickly climbed the stairs the sounds became more clear, and Paisley gripped her bar more nervously. That was almost definitely Hannah's voice, and it... sounded like she was laughing desperately, though Paisley couldn't think of a single reason why.

Stella pushed open the door to the room where the noises were originating and they both stood in the doorway, blinking. Hannah was writhing around on an empty bed frame, laughing uncontrollably. It looked as though she were struggling to move and sit up, but there was... nothing holding her down. She appeared to be alone in the room, and Paisley could not have been more dumbfounded.

"What the hell?" she asked, looking around the room, then back at Hannah.

Hannah's eyes snapped towards the door, widening at the sight of Paisley and Stella. "THEHEHE GHOHOHOST!" she screamed through her laughter, "IT'S TIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHE!"

Paisley barely had time to take in her words, blinking incredulously, before she was blown across the room, landing on the ground with a loud thump. She was barely able to keep hold of the bar in her hands, but managed, and held it in front of her as she gathered herself. Almost immediately afterwards, Stella was shoved to the ground as well, although she swung her bar as she fell and they all heard a sound like nails scratching a chalkboard. "I hit it!" Stella shouted triumphantly, though she soon screeched and scrabbled at the floor.

For a moment Paisley was uncertain what the hell was happening, but when she noticed Stella's heels thrown to the side and the way her friend was kicking out, she deduced that the ghost was tickling her as well. With Hannah still writhing and laughing on the bed and Stella quickly dissolving into helpless giggles of her own, Paisley slowly stood, eyes darting across the room. She stayed perfectly still for a minute, then darted over the Stella, swinging her bar and feeling it hit the ghost, as though she were pulling it through quicksand. Not wanting to give it time to regroup, she then swung the bar again, this time directly over Hannah. She hit the ghost again, and with a soft whine, everything went quiet.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The tickling stopped abruptly, and it was only then that Hannah realized there had been wind swirling through the small room. She'd been so distracted by the tickling that she only noticed when it stopped. She was almost overwhelmed by the way everything happened all at once; the room went quiet, her stomach and underarms and neck were free of touches, and the heavy pressure pinning down her arms and legs disappeared.

Hannah had to gasp for breath before she was able to slowly sit up. Paisley was standing in the center of the room, looking shaken but alright, while Stella was still sitting on the floor, rubbing at her bare feet.

She flinched when Paisley, suddenly, swung the iron bar towards Hannah and pointed it at her. "Never," she said threateningly, looking fed up and annoyed, "go into a hunt without at least ONE of us with you."

Too exhausted to even blush in embarrassment, Hannah could only nod. "Deal. Let's just get out of here."

Description
Hannah sighed in annoyance and tapped her foot, leaning against her truck while she waited for her partners. The shadow of the house she was parked by loomed over her, the two-story building having fallen into decay years ago. With broken windows, rotting wooden boards, holes broken into the porch and cobwebs, scratches, and dirt covering the walls and edges of the building, it truly looked the part of a haunted house.

But the 25-year-old was impatient, and she was considering going into the house despite the admonishings of her partners Paisley and Stella, to wait for them. She glanced at her watch once more, then whirled around, opening her truck and reaching inside to grab what she'd need. Hannah had been hunting the supernatural for nearly three years - she could handle a little ghost by herself.

Hannah was 5'8" with long, wavy light brown hair that she usually had pulled up into a ponytail, brown eyes, and light skin with a dotting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was of average build, strong from lifting equipment around and carrying it through dilapidated buildings, though her stomach remained softer thanks to her enjoyment of chocolate.

Having been simply relaxing at home when she got the news about this house, Hannah hadn't bothered to change before hopping in her truck and driving over. She wore sturdy black combat boots, a pair of worn and ripped high-rise dark jeans that hugged her body, and a form-fitting black tank top that accentuated her curves and was cropped just enough to expose a few inches of her pudgy belly and outie navel.

Shouldering a thick, sturdy backpack and holding an iron crowbar in one hand, Hannah sent off a text to Paisley and Stella before throwing her phone back in her truck and locking the doors, then setting up the steps of the creaky old house. There was no point in waiting for their responses, which would undoubtedly be telling her to stay put and wait for them, and bringing her phone into a potentially ghost-filled abode was simply asking for it to get lost or broken.

The door was locked, but it only took a minute for Hannah to pick it using the tools in her bag. She grabbed the rusty handle and the door swung open with a loud creak, revealing a dark, cobwebbed room that was covered in dust. Hannah reached into her bag and pulled out a sturdy metal flashlight, shining it into the dark corners of what must once have been a living room before stepping inside. She let the door swing closed behind her and walked further into the house. Each step elicited a soft creak from the old floorboards as she walked past a dark, sinking sofa and into the kitchen, trying to stay quiet and alert.

A noise from upstairs caught Hannah's attention. It didn't quite sound like a noise that would come from an empty old house - it was more suspicious, and Hannah grinned to herself as she quietly turned and moved towards the stairs. She crept up them slowly, carefully, trying to avoid the creakiest boards as she made her way to the top.

She inched down the hallway, peeking into each room as she went. She kept the iron bar clutched tight in her hand. She knew from experience that if - when - she did find a ghost, the best way to banish it would be to use iron against it, and she wanted to be fully prepared. She couldn't bear the embarrassment if it turned out she was unable to catch a ghost without the help of her two partners.

Suddenly, Hannah felt something graze the back of her exposed neck, dragging along down to her shoulder and making her flinch. She whirled around and swung the bar through the air. It flew easily, not at all like it was hitting the resistance of ectoplasm that would come from a ghost.

Hannah frowned, and slipped inside the room she was standing directly in front of. Inside was a metal bed frame, completely bare. Along the wall was an ancient wooden dresser, missing some handles and with a sheet lying over the top half, likely covering a mirror. In another corner sat a wooden chair, looking slightly uneven thanks to a portion of a leg missing. Everything was covered in a sheet of dust, and the one small rectangular window only let in a small amount of light.

Hannah crept inside the dimly-lit room, glancing around warily. She felt another strange sensation, like a phantom hand on her bare shoulder, and she spun around, swinging the bar through the air again. Nothing.

With a frown, Hannah lifted her foot to take a step forward, when suddenly she went flying. Her fingers loosened on the bar and it clattered away into a corner as Hannah landed on the empty bed with a loud, "Ooof!" She blinked, trying to orient herself as dust swirled into the air around her. She was held a few inches above the ground by the springs of the bed frame, which dug lightly into her back. "What the hell?" she muttered, starting to sit up.

Her breath left her suddenly as she was pushed back down by a heavy weight on her chest. With surprising speed, her hands flew up into the air above her head. When she tried to tug at them, to move them, it was as if an invisible but sturdy band was pinning them down, holding them in place. A pit grew in her stomach. Hannah knew how dangerous some ghosts could be when confronted, and this one clearly had the drop on her.

She tried to kick out, by her ankles were frozen in place just as her wrists were. And the most frustrating thing was... there was nothing there. The problem didn't even lie in the dim light of the room. There was simply nothing there. At least, nothing corporeal.

Hannah jumped when she felt, along her arm, the same hair-raising sensation brushing across her skin, leaving goosebumps behind. She took a deep breath. "I know you're there," she said aloud, feeling slightly foolish even though she knew that the ghost could hear and understand her, even if it couldn't respond in words of its own. "What do you want?"

The pressure on her wrists tightened and Hannah felt a slight breeze blow through the room. "EEEP!" she screeched suddenly, startled by a sensation on her bare stomach. Her already-cropped tank top had ridden up even further when she'd been flung onto the bed, and now it felt like something was crawling up her side, like a spider. She craned her head, but saw nothing. As she sucked in her stomach, feeling the thing continue to crawl, she realized that it was less like an insect, and more similar to the sensation of fingers slowly creeping across her belly. "What are you doing?" Hannah asked, unable to hide her panic.

The strange sensation was joined by another, crawling up her opposite side. The ghostly fingers didn't stop moving when they reached the top of her bare belly, instead beginning to move faster, dancing across her skin with light touches that had Hannah bursting into giggles before she could control herself. "Stohohohop!" she demanded, undulating her stomach and tugging at her trapped wrists. "This is insahahane, lehehet me gohohoho!"

The scribbling continued, something invisible scratching lightly at her belly as she tried fruitlessly to get away. The tickling of her belly continued, but it was like some of the fingers multiplied and broke away, and the creeping sensation moved up, over her sides, over her ribs covered by her top, to her underarms which were stretched out invitingly. Her armpits began to tingle as light scratches wiggled across the sensitive skin there. "Nohohohoho!" Hannah insisted again, tugging more frantically at her bound wrists as the tickling of her underarms slowly intensified. "Stohohop this! I'm gohohoing to dehehestrohohoy you!"

As soon as the threat passed her lips, the tickling intensified and Hannah was howling with laughter. It seemed like every inch of bare skin, from her stomach to her arms and armpits, to her neck, was being targeted by the ghost with invisible but maddeningly ticklish touches. "Stohohohohop!" she begged, unsuccessfully trying to protect her armpits, scrunch up her shoulders to hide her neck, and suck in her quivering belly. The ghost didn't seem deterred in the least by her squirming, and the merciless tickling continued.

Hannah sent a longing glance toward the iron bar, feet away in the corner of the room, before she dissolved into deeper laughter. "Nohohohoho!" she cried, sucking in her stomach in a useless attempt to protect her sensitive belly from more tickling. "Stohohohop this immediateEHEEHEEHEEHEE, NOHOHOHOHO!" Hannah writhed on the bed frame, screaming with laughter.

In the center of Hannah's soft, exposed stomach lay her outie navel, a round indent on her belly with a little button that protruded from the center. While her sensitive belly button had previously been ignored, now she could feel her navel being poked, and each touch sent a jolt of unbearable ticklishness through her. "NOHOHOHO, PLEHEHEHEHEASE! AHAHAHAHA STOHOHOHOHOP! DOHOHOHON'T TICKLE MY BEHEHEHELLY BUTTOHOHON PLEHEHEHEASE!" Hannah begged, her stomach flexing and tensing helplessly.

If anything, her words fueled the ghost. "NOHOHOHO!" she moaned, feeling tears of laughter prickle at her squeezed-shut eyes. There was a sensation like her outie was being pinched gently between fingers, and simultaneously, a feeling like small, relentless fingers were wriggling into the fold between the rim of her navel and the protruding knot in the center. "PLEHEHEHEASE!" Hannah rarely touched her own belly button it was so sensitive, and now even a few minutes of this tickling was turning out to be more than she could bear. "I'LL LEEHEHEHEHEAVE, AND I WOHOHON'T COOHOHOME BAHAHAHACK! I'LL LEHEHEAVE YOU ALOHOHOHONE! PLEHEHEHEASE!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Finally," Paisley murmured as she and Stella pulled up at the abandoned house that Hannah had texted them the address to. The petite, dark-skinned woman jumped out of the vehicle, pulling her curly mass of black hair into a quick ponytail as she did so. She'd received Hannah's message in the middle of her yoga class, and thus was wearing a form-fitting cropped t-shirt that showed off her abs and pierced navel, and leggings that hugged her slim figure.

Stella climbed out from the other side of the car. The 5'9" blonde shielded her eyes against the sun and frowned up at the creepy old house. She had been on her way home from a lunch date, and was perhaps the least appropriately dressed in a flowing, sleeveless blouse, a mini skirt, and high heels. "No more messages from Hannah?" she confirmed. Paisley shook her head, and Stella sighed.

"Of course she'd go in without us," she muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Who knows what's in there too-" Stella paused, her words fading off as she cocked her head.

"What?" Paisley asked, grabbing an iron bar from the backseat and tossing another one to Stella, who caught it easily. She slung a bag over her shoulder as Stella's frown deepened.

"Do you hear that?" she asked. Paisley paused, and listened carefully. It was difficult to tell through the slightly blowing wind, but from the far side of the house, it almost sounded like someone... screaming, or crying, or laughing, or all three.

Paisley and Stella exchanged a glance, then darted into the house without another word. The noises grew in volume after they stepped through the front door, and as the quickly climbed the stairs the sounds became more clear, and Paisley gripped her bar more nervously. That was almost definitely Hannah's voice, and it... sounded like she was laughing desperately, though Paisley couldn't think of a single reason why.

Stella pushed open the door to the room where the noises were originating and they both stood in the doorway, blinking. Hannah was writhing around on an empty bed frame, laughing uncontrollably. It looked as though she were struggling to move and sit up, but there was... nothing holding her down. She appeared to be alone in the room, and Paisley could not have been more dumbfounded.

"What the hell?" she asked, looking around the room, then back at Hannah.

Hannah's eyes snapped towards the door, widening at the sight of Paisley and Stella. "THEHEHE GHOHOHOST!" she screamed through her laughter, "IT'S TIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHE!"

Paisley barely had time to take in her words, blinking incredulously, before she was blown across the room, landing on the ground with a loud thump. She was barely able to keep hold of the bar in her hands, but managed, and held it in front of her as she gathered herself. Almost immediately afterwards, Stella was shoved to the ground as well, although she swung her bar as she fell and they all heard a sound like nails scratching a chalkboard. "I hit it!" Stella shouted triumphantly, though she soon screeched and scrabbled at the floor.

For a moment Paisley was uncertain what the hell was happening, but when she noticed Stella's heels thrown to the side and the way her friend was kicking out, she deduced that the ghost was tickling her as well. With Hannah still writhing and laughing on the bed and Stella quickly dissolving into helpless giggles of her own, Paisley slowly stood, eyes darting across the room. She stayed perfectly still for a minute, then darted over the Stella, swinging her bar and feeling it hit the ghost, as though she were pulling it through quicksand. Not wanting to give it time to regroup, she then swung the bar again, this time directly over Hannah. She hit the ghost again, and with a soft whine, everything went quiet.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The tickling stopped abruptly, and it was only then that Hannah realized there had been wind swirling through the small room. She'd been so distracted by the tickling that she only noticed when it stopped. She was almost overwhelmed by the way everything happened all at once; the room went quiet, her stomach and underarms and neck were free of touches, and the heavy pressure pinning down her arms and legs disappeared.

Hannah had to gasp for breath before she was able to slowly sit up. Paisley was standing in the center of the room, looking shaken but alright, while Stella was still sitting on the floor, rubbing at her bare feet.

She flinched when Paisley, suddenly, swung the iron bar towards Hannah and pointed it at her. "Never," she said threateningly, looking fed up and annoyed, "go into a hunt without at least ONE of us with you."

Too exhausted to even blush in embarrassment, Hannah could only nod. "Deal. Let's just get out of here."