Page 72 of Knot Baked Out For This
Can't breathe. Can't think. Can't?—
"Hazel?"
Levi's voice cuts through the panic, distant at first, then closer.
"Hazel, where are you?"
I try to answer but all that comes out is a whimper. Pathetic. Weak. Everything Korrin said I was.
"Keep talking," Levi says, his voice calm, steady. "I'll find you. Just make any sound."
I manage something between a sob and a word.
Then he's there, warm presence in the dark. He doesn't touch me, doesn't crowd, just sits beside me on the dirty floor, close enough that I can smell honey butter cutting through the basement must.
"Power went out," he says conversationally. "Whole block, apparently. Mrs. Chen's probably having a clipboard emergency."
He doesn't ask why I'm on the floor. Doesn't ask why I'm shaking. Just sits there, talking about nothing.
"You know what's weird about ghosts?" he continues. "The sheet thing. Like, you die and suddenly develop a textile preference? Was there a meeting? Did all ghosts vote on sheets as the official uniform?"
A laugh bubbles out through the panic, watery but real.
"And why white sheets? Why not patterns? Florals? Imagine a ghost in paisley. Very non-threatening. 'Oh no, it's the ghost of someone's grandmother's guest room!'"
Another laugh, stronger.
"I'd be a plaid ghost," he continues. "Really lean into the Pacific Northwest aesthetic. Flannel ghost. Probably carrying ghost coffee. Haunting artisanal bakeries."
"That's... that's ridiculous," I manage, voice shaky but working.
"Ridiculously brilliant. I'm trademarking it. Hipster ghosts. It's gonna be huge."
My breathing is steadier now, the panic retreating to manageable levels. The darkness is still there, still pressing, but Levi's presence makes it less suffocating.
"Want to hear my ghost impression?" he asks.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope."
He starts making what I assume are meant to be ghostly noises but sound more like a congested seal. Then he startssinging—if you can call it that—"Monster Mash" in a key that doesn't exist in nature.
"Stop," I gasp between laughs. "That's so bad."
"I was working in the lab, late one night," he continues, somehow getting worse. "When my eyes beheld an eerie sight—that's you, by the way, you're the eerie sight?—"
"I hate you."
"For my monster from his slab, began to rise?—"
"Levi!"
"And suddenly to my surprise—HE DID THE MASH?—"
I'm laughing now, real laughing, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. The darkness is still there but it's just darkness, not a prison, not a punishment.
"THE MONSTER MASH?—"
